The Lost MiPO Interview

It's not really lost, but here's some of the things from my interview that made the cutting room floor. The exchange was from March 3 - 14.

Q: So, Ms. Livingston, what made you turn to the dark and seedy world of poetry and what and how inspired you to turn to the black magic of it? I heard once that long ago, poets were seen as witches.

A: I didn't grow up intending on writing poetry. As a child and a teenager I had no interest in it (aside from nursery rhymes, come on, who hasn't done a little Mother Goose in her youth?). When I started college I had every intention of going legit and studying professional writing but the first week I was there I met an upperclassman on the corner of Morewood and Fifth avenues. We were waiting for the WALK signal and got to talking. She explained that creative writing was much cooler to major in because there were less sucky required classes. I was 17 and overwhelmed and figured less sucky classes was definitely the way for me. Still, I had no intention of pursuing poetry. I was going to live an honest life and write a novel. My sophomore year I took my first fiction workshop. I never met any poets who were witches, but as far as I'm concerned my first fiction professor was a witch. She gave me a C on a short story that I considered brilliant and I freaked. I cried in her office and later that evening I wrote her a demented letter demanding an A. Basically she told me to suck it. I tried to take my complaint up the ladder in the department and they told me to suck it too. I was forced to suck it. The following semester I took a poetry workshop with Jan Beatty. I didn't consider my attempts at poetry brilliant so my precious little ego could bear the criticism. Also, Jan was supportive and encouraging and generally open. She made me want to learn and read poetry. You could say I was sucked into it. Poets were the only ones willing to take me in. I was desperate and young and had no place else to turn. That or become a history major.

Q: I think more poems need to be written about Michael Jackson and Tonya Harding. You?

A: I want to see more poems written about Jeff Goldblum.

Q: That's funny. I agree. Sometimes I wish I was a different kind of artist other than a writer. If you weren't a writer, what kind of artist would you like to be, or would you even like to be an artist at all, Reb?

A: Sometimes I wish I was a doctor and able to improve and save people's lives, but would never have survived the first year of pre-med, let alone medical school. I don't have the stomach for that kind of thing. Often I faint when my blood is taken. If there's a needle scene in a movie or on TV, I have to close my eyes. In other artistic pursuits, I wish I could sing well, but I'm flat and off-key. I wish I would have stuck to my violin lessons instead of quitting in sixth grade and wish I would have learned piano and guitar. The truth is that all these things wished for are hopeless causes so I try not to spend much time wanting what will never be achieved.

Q: So share with us when you find the time to write?

A: I used to have a very flexible schedule. I ran my small jewelry business from home with my priority always going to my writing and editing the online poetry journal, No Tell Motel (www.notellmotel.org). So I'd write whenever I had an idea. Sometimes that meant one draft per day and sometimes it meant one draft per week. Those days are over now that I had my son in February. I'm still figuring out how I'm going to balance things, at this writing he's not quite three weeks old. So far when he's been asleep I've been using that time to work on No Tell or write in my blog or read other poet's blogs and online journals. That is when I'm not trying to get a little sleep myself or catching up on Dr. Phil. I have yet to write a poem since his birth, only a few notes and lines. While I'm anxious to get back to business, I'm not rushing myself. I recently figured out a way to get some reading done. In the middle of the night when he's especially fussy and needs to be held I take a book off my towering stack and read poetry to him. It puts him to sleep and makes me feel like I'm being somewhat productive at 4 a.m. I'm extremely sensitive about "motherhood" hijacking my life. Probably excessively so. Obviously there comes along a change of priorities and focus when one becomes a parent, but I don't want it to mean I'm less devoted to my writing or poetry in general. Many female poets that are presented as role models were either childless (or "crazy") that I chose not to use them a guide on how to conduct my own life. Instead I look towards contemporary poets who are close to my age, mothers of young children and manage to be productive writing vibrant, vital poetry. Two that immediately come to mind are Jennifer Michael Hecht and Kirsten Kaschock.