INTERVIEW: Sheryda Warrener

Sheryda Warrener, a finalist in PRISM international’s poetry contest last year, is a graduate of the MFA program at UBC and the author of “Hard Feelings,” a collection of poetry released by Snare Books in 2010. First-year MFA student Leah Horlick had an opportunity to ask Warrener a few questions about writing, travel, the ordinary, and the remarkable.

LH: I was fortunate enough to hear you read from your new book, “Hard Feelings,” at Green College this fall. The poems in this book have a strong sense of place, rooted in locations ranging from Japan to New Mexico. What was the process of creating this book like for you?  What is your writing process like when you’re traveling?

SW: My process goes something like: walk around and look at stuff, take notes, find the idea with the most momentum, go with it, think about it, make a poem, edit the poem, leave it for awhile, come back and edit, show it to a couple of friends, edit it again and then leave it alone. Hard Feelings was written over about 3 years, with the majority of the poems coming out of the time the UBC Creative Writing MFA allowed me. Then, after the program, when I had enough distance from the manuscript, I felt like I could get at the work more objectively and make it a better book overall. I would think: This can’t change anymore! And then it would change. The editing phase is crucial for me. I’m not the kind of poet who has a poem after a couple of drafts.

It’s harder for me to take notes when travelling than when just wandering around Vancouver. That little interruptive voice in my head says, You’re not going to write that down, are you? It’s not until I’m home, and that shift in perspective from familiar to new experience to familiar again occurs that I can make some sense of the details I’ve held onto.

LH: Is there a place you haven’t traveled to yet that you’d like to write about?

SW: There are lots of places I’d like to travel to. I’ve never been to New York, and imagine there’s lots to write about there (Ha!). I like Joan Didion’s descriptions of L.A., would like to see the light for myself. But I’m also a sucker for nostalgia, so find myself just returning to the cities I’ve already visited to experience them all over again. It’s not only travelling that offers that fresh perspective. Going to an art exhibit, talking with good friends, reading, watching stand-up comedy: any experience that offers insight is enough to inspire me to write. I also don’t ever plan what I’m going to write about. I take what I can get!

LH: In the first section of your book, “Ordinary and Remarkable,” I’m fascinated by the piece “It Was Always Autumn” — as a newcomer to Vancouver, I’m still waiting for the snow to fall! I’d love to hear about the moment when you notice an ordinary detail that could become a remarkable poem.

SW: I used to think it was the ordinary that struck me as remarkable, but now I’m intrigued by the idea that right now, with everything moving so very quickly around us, what we once might have been stopped in our tracks by has turned into something exceptionally ordinary. Now we say So what? in passing. We’re excited by an idea for about a minute, and then want something else. I try to slow down and take it in before whatever it is that caught my attention whirs by, or, even worse, disappears.

LH: The final section of your book, “Last Door,” contains ekphrastic poems discussing the life and work of painter Georgia O’Keeffe. Could you tell us a bit about how her work has influenced you?

SW: I was immediately struck by what O’Keeffe wrote about her own work more than the art itself. She had a true fiery nature, working against the artistic and marital conventions of her time. I was so mesmerized by her that I took an impromptu trip to New Mexico to see the light for myself, the desert. I flailed there, which was the point, now that I look back on it. Quotes of hers would float all over the first (dozen) drafts of Last Door. In the editing process, it became clearer to me (thanks to some excellent mentorship) I had to make the voice mine.

Now what inspires me is her commitment to her own obsessions: her paintings of doors and patio spaces were seemingly relentless subjects for her, and I like this idea. I’m not sure we have the same freedom as writers – do we write the same poem over and over? Yes, probably. But do we get into trouble for it? Sometimes. I’m learning how to handle my own obsessions from O’Keeffe.

LH: Are there other artists (visual or otherwise) who have influenced your poetry?

The conceptual photography of Sophie Calle, Rineke Dijkstra’s portraits, Jeff Wall’s digital compositions, the colour & light in a Stephen Shore photo, Cindy Sherman’s Film Stills. Photography gets me in a way other art-making doesn’t. I think what strikes me most is the balance necessary in the making of a photograph between immediacy, tenderness, insight. That’s hard to do, revealing how one thinks about the world in a meaningful way while attempting to connect with an audience or viewer. That’s the ongoing challenge.

LH: You graduated from the MFA program at UBC in 2008. What advice would you give to current students? What was one of the most significant things you learned during the program?

SW: For me, the time I could dedicate to my poetry and to building the discipline necessary to really commit myself to writing was the most worthwhile aspect of the MFA program. I would recommend making the appropriate use of that time. I would also say Take risks! Be Brave! The requisite cross-genre writing is good practice for finding a voice & style you can call your own. Build a community; developing relationships with good editors & readers goes a long way. And then, of course, don’t take it too seriously. It’s a funny business, writing. Just go with it.