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Author Statement
I’ve come to think of this collection as a love letter to all the things that hurt and haunt me. I don’t know if I realized it at the time, but writing these poems was my attempt to understand how certain ghosts—past, present, and future—impact and inform my day-to-day happiness.
3 Questions
Mia Herman
INK: What most inspires you to write?
M.H.: It’s the need to make sense of myself and my experiences. Even as a little girl, writing was my go-to way of dealing with big feelings. The other day, I found my kid chewing on a crayon (welp!), and after brushing all the blue from his teeth, my first thought was, “There’s gotta be a poem in here somewhere.” It’s instinctive, you know? Like a reflex. I can’t NOT write.
INK: What does your writing routine look like?
M.H.: Some days I can carve out an hour early in the morning or late at night. But I’ve got two little kids so mostly it looks like five minutes typing in the notes app while waiting in the school carpool line. Or scribbling on the back of a recipe card while cooking for Shabbat dinner. Sometimes it’s just a word or phrase on voice memo while I’m grocery shopping. Basically, my writing routine is as fickle as my toddler. 🙂
INK: Name a favorite poem you feel everyone should read and why.
M.H.: “The Raincoat” by Ada Limon punches me in the gut every time I read it. She guides you toward the revelation of the last few lines with such gentleness and grace! I can only think of a handful of other poets who can do the same. (Linda Pastan and Yehoshua November are two that come to mind.) And the closing shift in the speaker’s perception of her lived experiences is so magnificent. Reminds me that at any given moment, I can shift my own perspective. Choose to see things differently. I can be kinder. More grateful. I can grow and evolve at any point.
Q&A with C.W. Bryan
C.W. Bryan: There are several biblical allusions in your book, even from the very first poem in the collection. Sarah and Abraham, the Book of Genesis, Adam and the garden, capitalizing “He” and “Him” in certain places. I really enjoyed the context they added to your poems. Can you speak a little bit about your relationship to these allusions or the inspiration behind them?
M.H.: As an Orthodox Jew, I was raised on these biblical stories. There is a Hebrew saying ma’aseh avot siman l’banim which basically means that we should learn from–and draw inspiration from–the experiences, actions, and words of our ancestors. So my faith is ever-present in my writing. It shapes the way I think and speak, and the way I interact with others. Judaism is the lens through which everything in my life comes into focus–including writing.
C.W. Bryan: I feel like you have a very specific relationship to the titles of your poems. They all do so much work outside of the simple labeling of the poem. I particularly enjoyed Nyctophiliac, Adam, and [insert title] as examples. These titles do so much work for the poems themselves and I would love to know more about your thoughts on what titles can do for poems, or what yours do specifically.
M.H.: I tend to think of poems as little paintings so, for me, titles are kind of like custom frames. With every piece, I try to choose what will best serve my art. Sometimes I’ll need something simple and sturdy, something that quietly supports an already-big-and-bold poem. Other times I’ll focus on texture or nuance, a title that adds dimension or humor to the lines below it. I actually really love this part of poetry! It’s exciting to take a step back, look at the entirety of a poem, and figure out what kind of “frame” is going to make it shine.
C.W. Bryan: The tone in which you write reminds me at times of Billy Collins or Mary Ruefle. The poems you write are clearly so personal and reflective, and about powerful topics. I find the juxtaposition of comedy and trauma to be insanely effective in this collection, particularly in “What People Whisper.” Is humor the natural way for you to express grief? Or perhaps just one of many?
M.H.: Wow, what an honor to be mentioned in the same sentence as Billy Collins and Mary Ruefle! Whew, that is very kind and generous of you. Humor is definitely one way I handle trauma and grief. It’s a coping mechanism of sorts. A way to make the heaviness of life a little lighter. Mostly, though, I think my instinct is to turn inward when there’s sadness. To sit with my grief. To handle it on my own. That probably stems from living with chronic pain for so much of my life. I’ve gotten very used to masking it, to putting on the proverbial poker face. But hopefully, I was successful in balancing the humor and heartache here!
