Q&A with Pam Parker, Co-Editor of DONE DARKNESS

“This is how you find her: / hands clamped around the broom handle / like a bulldog’s teeth, / working the far corners of the room / till the dust spins around her….” ~ from Jennifer Highland’s “Sonya Sweeping” in DONE DARKNESS

Recently, I spent a weekend on a retreat with a group of ladies, and I reflected on many things, one of which was my experience with depression. I’m a functional depressive; when it hits, I ride low but not too low. Still, it hovers in the background even during a good stretch, so that–I realized when I was away–I wear it like a badge, one identifier among many: Christi, the Mother; Christi, the Writer; Christi, the Depressive. Silly, I think. But in the next breath I wonder, Who am I if I’m not sunk or on the verge?

41lzLZqECyL._UY250_To answer that question is a journey in itself, one that begins in recognizing depression does not have to define me and that, even when the low feels much like how Jennifer Highland describes it above, with my hands clamped around it “like a bulldog’s teeth,” it’s a quiet fight I don’t face alone.

Pam Parker and Kathy Lanzarotti have co-edited DONE DARKNESS, curating the work of eighteen authors who write about the quiet fight: depression and the life beyond. Today, Pam talks about the anthology, and I’m offering a giveaway. Drop you name in the comments for a chance to win a copy of DONE DARKNESSNow, welcome Pam Parker!


CC: This is a unique anthology on the topic of depression in that it includes not only personal essays but short stories and poetry as well. What sparked the idea for this book, and what was your biggest challenge?

71Aw8dRqWlL._UX250_PP: I’ve had personal experience with depression, as many of my family and friends have had too, so certainly that played a huge part in the choice of subject. I also believe strongly in the power of literature and art to build empathy. Without building empathy, we can not hope to continue chipping away at the stigma surrounding mental illnesses.

There were a number of challenges with creating the book, including my extensive traveling in the first half of 2015, but for me, I think the most difficult thing was having to reject a large quantity of wonderful pieces, simply because they really weren’t the right fit for the final book. That hurt. (Can you even imagine having to send rejection letters to folks who had submitted for a book on depression?)

CC: I’ve edited a few tiny anthologies and know these kinds of projects can be labors of love. When you envision DONE DARKNESS in the hands of readers, what do you hope they will discover?

PP: I hope they will find voices, feelings and stories to connect to and gain understanding. Maybe they will think of a friend or a relative who has struggles and gain some patience! More than anything, I hope they discover ways to spur conversations when they have concerns — about themselves or others.

CC: Instead of dividing the book into poetry, nonfiction and fiction, the collected works fall into chapters of Morning, Afternoon, or Evening. What is the significance of those chapter headings? 

PP: I had in mind Shakespeare’s “All the World’s A Stage,” speech and the seven ages of man. Since depression can affect anyone at any time in life, we used the times of day to parallel the seasons of life. So, in the morning section, we have some important younger characters and a mother coping with post-partum depression. Afternoon represents the longest season of life — prime and middle-aged — whatever words we want to attach to it. Evening represents the senior years and end of life.This was one of the most difficult aspects of the book to finalize. We wanted to stay true to that concept, but not be beating folks over the head with it. I didn’t mind at all if many people didn’t truly understand the decisions for the divisions.

CC: Neil Gaiman says, “The one thing that you have that nobody else has is you. Your voice, your mind, your story….” What advice can you offer for writers (or readers) who desire to share their story but don’t know where to begin?

PP: Stop worrying about where to begin and simply begin. Put the pen to the paper, the fingers to the keyboard, whatever works for you and start. Absolutely nothing happens when you spend all your time trying to figure out where to begin. People have to determine what is stopping them from starting and for so, so many writers I’ve known, it’s that “where to begin” question. Most writers will admit that the “first beginning” of a final piece, is often absent from the final piece or has been moved elsewhere. So, if it’s no longer in the piece, did it matter? Of course! It got the piece started. Without it, there would be no final piece.

Pam Parker’s short fiction, poetry, and essays have appeared in numerous print and electronic journals, including Potomac Review, Grey Sparrow Press, The MacGuffin, and more. She is a regular contributor to “Lake Effect” on Milwaukee Public Radio. Her work has earned accolades from the Wisconsin Broadcaster’s Association, Wisconsin Writers Association, and the Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters. She makes her home in Wauwatosa, WI with her husband, though her heart is often in western Massachusetts or Glasgow, Scotland. To read some of her work, find links at pamwrites.net.

Don’t forget to drop your name in the comments for a chance to win a copy of DONE DARKNESS! Deadline to enter the giveaway is Tuesday, February 23rd, at noon.

Q&A with Shann Ray, author of AMERICAN COPPER

“Daily, men descended into the earth, going where no man belonged, taking more than men deserved, their faces wracked with indifference, their hands dirtied with soot from the depths of the mountain.” ~ From AMERICAN COPPER

On Tin House, Dorothy Allison writesAmerican-Copper-cover-3 that, “Place is emotion. . . .Place is people.” Shann Ray is an author who masters this theme in much of his work. His debut novel, AMERICAN COPPER, is a story in which characters are tied greatly to the Montana frontier by industry, birth, or ghosts from their past.

In the very first line of AMERICAN COPPER (quoted above), we are carried into the heart of the landscape as well as the story of Evelynne Lowry and her father, Josef. Along with Evelynne and Josef, Ray introduces us to William Black Kettle (a Cheyenne), and Middie (a bull rider and fighter who longs for a sense of home), and he spotlights a difficult truth: all men hate; how they respond to this hate is what determines their end. Here is where Ray shines, as his writing pulls at the reader to find compassion for even the most violent of characters.

I have hosted Shann Ray before and am honored to have him visit again to talk about AMERICAN COPPER. I’m giving away a copy of his new novel as well, so drop your name in the comments by Tuesday, December 8th, for a chance to win.

Now, welcome Shann Ray.

CC: You live in Spokane, Washington but grew up in Montana, and much of your writing focuses on or is set in Big Sky Country. What is it about Montana’s landscape that inspired you to write this story about Evelynne Lowry and the men who surround her?

Shann-5colorvestSR: So good to be with you here at your marvelous site again, Christi! I do love Spokane, and I’ve loved teaching leadership and forgiveness studies at Gonzaga University for the past 20 years, but my home of soul is Montana. 

I wanted to write a love song to Montana, to those resplendent landscapes, to the rivers, the sky, the stars, and to the people.  I hoped to honor the great women of my life, my mother, my grandmother, my wife and three daughters.  I know some great women!  These women have formed me, made me more compassionate, a deeper man, a better man, and hopefully a man they feel deeply loved by… a man who is a reflection of the fierce, courageous, and artistic ways of living they embody.

In Montana’s landscape, I do think of the land and sky as feminine, as a place of great beauty, as well as a kind of power that can never be controlled, and that calls to us in a beloved way to become more true to one another, and more willing to sacrifice on behalf of the beloved.  I’ve lived throughout Montana, from the Northern Cheyenne reservation in the Tongue River country in southeast Montana, to the high plains north of Miles City, to the heart of the Beartooths and the Crazies, massive mountain ranges that touch the sky.  I’ve spent time in the far wilderness of the high country, walked within the rivers fishing, and grown quiet in the darkness watching the stars.  I’ve traveled the world, through Europe, Asia, and Central America.  I’ve never found a place more beautiful than Montana.  There is something elemental about being anchored in beauty, or Beauty.

My heritage is Czech and German and a mix of other tribes.  My time on the Cheyenne rez was a time when my heart was changed for the better by so many Cheyenne friends.  These things anchor us to one another, and though I doubt many things and doubt the existence of an afterlife, I hope in it as well, and I wonder, and this is something that continues to anchor me as a writer and more importantly as a husband, a father, and a son. Anchored in what the Czech presidents Masaryk and Havel might have called ultimate Being.  Our own being, individually and collectively, anchored in ultimate Being through our experience of this in everyday life, especially in the context of the wilderness that exists around us, within us, and between us.  That wilderness can be fraught with racism, genocide, and the farthest reaches of human evil.

Often, throughout human history, we descend into our own worst sense of humanity.  And yet, we also rise.  In this context ultimate violence can be transcended by ultimate forgiveness, by ultimate restoration, and ultimate atonement.  American Copper, set in the beauty and violence of the Montana landscape, asks questions of those ultimate concerns, about desolation and hope, about despair and consolation, and finally about love.

CC: The characters in AMERICAN COPPER are rich in truths as they push their way through heartache or disappointment towards redemption–for some, in money; for others (though I suppose for them all, really) in love. And even in the most violent of men, like Josef & Middie, we find reasons for compassion. Writing stories, mining the history of our characters, is a process full of twists and turns, many that even the author can’t anticipate. As you wrote about Josef and Evelynne, or Middie and William Black Kettle, where there any surprises that unfolded onto the page? 

SR: The surprises of life and art, both for shadow and light, and for that elusive middle or balanced ground of well being, give me joy as a writer, and help me seek to open the characters more so that we can meet them on more intimate levels.  There are so many twists and turns, I agree!  Add to that how many revisions each set piece of a novel goes through (for me it is hundreds, and I love this slow meticulous and detailed process of patience with prose, narrative arc, character development, and the rise of the novel’s interior movements toward cohesion among chaos).  Then add in the ways my writing mentors and friends’ reads of the early novel help it come to a more full place.

As for specific surprises, it was not until late in the work that I felt Josef’s character moving more toward naturalism and a vast understanding of Nature alongside his capitalistic and charactistic darknesses.  I also did not see Evelynne fighting him so fiercely until her strength of soul became more apparent to me.  With William Black Kettle his joy for Evelynne, so effusive and generous, surprised me.  And with Zion, I thought he might be less afraid of women, but at each turn, his fear cast him into an abyss from which he found it hard to recover, though I see him as one of the most courageous of all for his martyrdom in the end with the Blackfeet man.

Mentors, revision rounds, and more and more reading all develop surprises in me that are triggered each character.  All this helps me try to generate a multi-layered foundation of compassion for each of them.  Human complexity has such refreshing beauty.  Even our evil, though it is deplorable and it harms us so very much, can with grace become a conduit toward the most profound truths of love and humanity.  We see it all over the world: The Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa, the restorative justice practices in Colombia, the reconciliation ceremonies led by the Cheyenne over the Sand Creek Massacre, and the Nez Perce over the Big Hole Massacre.  Love is quieter, but I believe, more powerful in the end.

CC: One of my favorite essays of late is Brian Doyle’s “Sensualiterature” on Creative Nonfiction, where he talks about the way writing lights up our senses: “the curl and furl of paper, the worn and friendly feeling of pocket-notebooks” and “the dark moist smell of ink and the rough grain of dense paper.” What is it about literature, the reading or writing of it, that pulls at you?

SR: Brian is brilliant!  How true, and how good it is to hold a book in your hand that you know will change your life forever.  With certain authors for me this is a certainty: C.D. Wright, Michael Ondaatje, bell hooks, James Welch, Toni Morrison, Leslie Marmon Silko, these and many, many more.  I carry those books like precious stones in my hand.  I harbor them in my coat pockets, and find places of solitude so I can disappear into those books, I savor and cherish them, and read them again, and I plan dinners where we can all talk about them and how they transform us.

Yes to the curl and furl, yes to the warm and friendly!  I carry small sheaves of paper with me wherever I go, sometimes pressed into a book, sometimes folded into a pocket, and I write poems or prose passages on them and collect them and try to revise them a thousand times to see what shape they might take.

The whole process is like body-floating in the Yellowstone River in southwest Montana outside Livingston, no life jacket, no innertube, no boat, just your body floating the river a mile at a time, completely absorbed, in love with the body of the world.

CC: I love hearing what other authors are reading these days. Are there any books you would suggest (or insist) we pick up sooner than later?

SR: Oh my goodness, these recent ones have just about taken the top of my head off: Lila by Marilynne Robinson, Coming Through Slaughter and The Collected Works of Billy the Kid both by Michael Ondaatje, Deepstep Come Shining by C.D. Wright, The Ploughmenby Kim Zupan, and Citizen: An American Lyric by Claudia Rankine.

CC: Now that you’ve transitioned from your more recent book of short stories to this novel, what bit of wisdom can you pass on to other writers who are moving from the short form to long?

SR: Stay the course.  The long form is also intricate and precise in it’s way.   There is a temptation to let things get looser, to not pay as much attention to the prose or the depth of the tapestry you are creating, but stay the course and tighten it down to its most refined and beautiful form.  Each of the books listed above have done just that, and my heart feels better for it.  Thanks Christi, for how you inspire us to read and to live, in deeper ways.

Poet and prose writer SHANN RAY’S debut novel AMERICAN COPPER is published by Unbridled Books and renowned editor Greg Michalson, formerly of the Missouri Review.  Shann’s collection of stories American Masculine won the American Book Award and two High Plains Book Awards, for Best Story Collection and Best First BookAmerican Masculine was selected for the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference prestigious Katherine Bakeless Nason Literary Publication Prize and appears with Graywolf Press. A licensed clinical psychologist specializing in the psychology of men, he lives with his wife and three daughters in Spokane, Washington where he teaches leadership and forgiveness studies at Gonzaga University.  

Visit Shann Ray’s website to read more about his books. And, don’t forget to drop your name in the comments for a chance to win a copy of AMERICAN COPPER. Deadline to enter is Tuesday, December 8th, high noon.

Poetry in two languages: Q&A with author, Margaret Noodin

The old ones tell us, “live as you are named.” / We sense the truth in our bones / if we listen.
~ from “Listening” in Weweni by Margaret Noodin

Last weekend, I attended the Mount Mary Publishing Institute in town, and during a workshop with Bridget Birdsall, I wrote a six-word memoir–not an easy exercise, but nevertheless, here’s mine: Mom, too introspective, my best feature. Introspection sends me down a rabbit-hole of worry sometimes, but it also adds layers to the understanding of myself, others, and the world around me. “Live in the layers, / not on the litter,” as Stanley Kunitz writes.

weweni_0Layers of understanding and meaning are at the heart of Margaret Noodin’s new book of poetry, Weweni. This is a unique book as each poem is written first in Anishinaabemowin (the language of ‘the People of the Three Fires’–the Odawa, Potawatomi, and Ojibwa”) and then in English.

I can’t speak a word of Anishinaabemowin, but I appreciate the complexity and art of the language. As Noodin writes elsewhere, “[Anishinaabemowin] words stem from the center, the way stories say life began with a spark of light and earth and was made from a speck of dirt. Meaning radiates from a central spoke of action, and diversity of interpretation is important.” I also fell in love with several of her poems as translated into English.

And, I fell in love with the cadence of Anishinaabemowin when I heard this traditional song, called “Nindinendam (Thinking),” sung by Margaret herself on Ojibwe.net:

 

Margaret Noodin teaches American Indian Studies at the university where I work–the day job has its perks, meeting professors who you discover are amazing poets as well as great teachers. I’ve read two of her books so far, and I’m thrilled to host Margaret here to talk about Weweni and her writing. As is my custom, there’s also a giveaway. Drop your name in the comments below for a chance to win a copy of her wonderful book of poems (winner will be chosen on Tuesday, October 6th).

Now, welcome Margaret Noodin!

CC: I should begin by asking you where you are from? Then, how does the word “Weweni” translate into English?

noodin_margaret_600MN: I am originally from Minnesota and have taught Anishinaabemowin in Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota.  I grew up in the Lakota part of the state in a town called Chaska, but my own relatives are from the St. Cloud area.

Weweni is a word we use to wish one another well and hope they are able to “take care” as they move along their journey in life.

CC: Your book offers readers a unique look at poetry as each poem is printed in Anishinaabemowin and in English. What do you hope others outside of the Anishinaabe culture will take away in reading these poems?

MN: I hope they will become curious enough to visit www.ojibwe.net and listen to the language, maybe even try saying a few words and thinking about the ways those sounds fall together so differently than English.  I also hope the translations help students confirm their progress and inspires readers to become students of the language.  Perhaps even a few other poets will try writing in Anishinaabemowin.

CC: In another book you recently published, Bawaajimo: a Dialect of Dreams in Anishinaabe Language and Literature, you explain that the Anishinaabe people are “a ‘woodland’ culture” as much as a community tied to the waters of the Great Lakes. You say, “One does not move from the mutable seas to the stationary pines without traveling the land between,” meaning perhaps that it’s impossible to separate the land from the language. Many of your poems, such as “Bizindamaang | Listening,” illustrate this idea. When you write your poems, are you inspired first by the language or the landscape around you?

MN: I am inspired by the systems all around us – water systems, forest systems, the way swamps evolve over time, all of the life that constantly changes and recharges everything that is connected.  I suppose, ultimately, all the old stories about “mishomis-giizis” and “nokomis-dibiki-giizis” (the sun and the moon) are at the core of it.  The fact that all of this life is happening across vast distances and inside tiny molecules reminds me of the way we put sounds and meaning together to make words that allow us to actually communicate ideas and perceptions to one another.  None of this is new, but taking time to notice all the influences of the universe certainly leads me to write.

CC: How does poetry influence other areas of your life, creative or academic (or vice-versa)?

MN: Building words and making connections is essential for using Anishinaabemowin and is the central approach to many of my poems. They often begin when a sound or piece of meaning echoes across a story or song into a topic I wasn’t expecting and I find myself wanting to follow the thread to see where it leads.  As a member of  women’s hand drum group I am always connecting moving  between poetry and lyric verse.

CC: Who is another poet or Anishinaabe author you would recommend (or insist!) we read?

MN: Kim Blaeser and Heid Erdrich are two poets who have worked with me to create poems in both Anishinaabemowin and English.  Each of them has a strong poetic voice readers might like to experience.  They offer different views of the land and history.  Jim Northrup is another writer who connects Anishinaabe language and culture to the land and seasons in his stories.  His book, Walking the Rez Road, weaves poems and stories together in a way the blurs the definition of each genre.

Margaret Noodin has a PhD in Literature and Linguistics, an MFA in Creative Writing and is Assistant Professor of English and American Indian Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. A contributor on Ojibwa.net (a website dedicated to saving the language), she is also the author of Bawaajimo: a Dialect of Dreams in Anishinaabe Language and Literature. 

~

Don’t forget: leave a quick comment for a chance to win a copy of Weweni.