An Interview with Suzanne Richardson

I met Suzanne in graduate school–she was a year (and a generation) behind me and started out with an emphasis in fiction but soon expanded her studies. I remember one conversation we had. She was complaining about the “old dudes” in her fiction workshop. How they were dismissive of her (and the younger writers).  And I said, “Suzanne, those old dudes are the same age as me!” and she said, “But you’re not like them at all!”  I think I fell a little bit in love with her in that moment.  She’s one of the most well-read people I know and has incredible insight and talent.  She’s published in all three genres:  fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction.  Those old dudes could have learned something…  I know I’ve learned from her and appreciated her critique on much of my work.  I had the pleasure of doing my dissertation hours with her.    

PLUME:   When did you know you were a writer?

SR: I think I knew when I started writing stories for school and other kids liked hearing them. I used to bring stories I’d written for show and tell instead of objects. To me, even as a child, writing was something to be shared. My favorite part of every school day was when teachers would read aloud  to us from a novel. I remember rushing in from lunch, sitting on the carpet, feeling excitement just to hear a little more of whatever book we were reading together. l I was lucky enough to attend a school that really encouraged self-expression at an early age. I took journal writing classes all through middle school and learned about consistency–how writing every day could become not only emotionally satisfying but that you filled pages of a book and that book became the book of your life–days weren’t just passing, you were filling up pages, and that seemed purposeful. As a teenager I became more interested in poetry. I read as much as I could get my hands on. I would go to the used bookstore near my house and sit in the poetry section reading. I found writers that way: Erica Jong, Adrienne Rich, Anne Sexton, Sapphire, Sylvia Plath. I also was reading classics in school; Shakespeare, the short stories of John Cheever; Baudelaire; Rimbaud.  It all became an inspirational soup. I consumed texts at school and texts at home. It was all encouraged. My parents never denied me a book–any book I wanted to read they helped me get a copy. I also learned to use writing to get me through difficult experiences. At fifteen, I was devastated when I tried out for The Crucible and got call backs for Abigail Williams, but my best friend got the part. Not only that, my crush was playing John Proctor. They had many late night rehearsals together, grew feelings for one another, and began dating. I felt very sad and betrayed; writing got me through that experience. I remember not being able to eat, but I could write, and that felt like a kind of nourishment. We’re all still friends now, and I find it funny that something like that could have been so formative; but it’s the first time I remember consciously writing myself out of a hole.

PLUME:      Where do you get your ideas?

SR: I get inspiration from sensory experiences. Things I process through my senses seem to be most inspirational; music, art, touch, sound, taste. My process is different depending on the genre I’m writing in. If I’m writing fiction I’ll normally start with a voice. It will come to me while driving, or in the shower, and it will just start speaking. The voice will begin telling me a story. Poetry will start with a line, or a few words; sometimes an image. This stuff comes when taking long walks. These words and images of course come from my life or things I’ve seen, experienced, heard, or read. Recently inspiration came from conversations I was having so I asked permission to use some of the conversation and person said, “yes.” When writing nonfiction it’s very much about if I’m ready to write it. I have many experiences living inside me and more recently I’ve been less ready to share things. In my twenties I think I found a lot of freedom in exposing my own experiences but looking back I didn’t always render them with enough nuance. In my mid-thirties I have a different perspective. I want to be really careful that I’ve looked at my own experiences enough before I send them out. When I write nonfiction or fiction I usually always end up writing the climax or most important/emotional scenes first and then I build around them. Those are the things that come most vividly to me. Once you have something down it’s easier to build around it.

PLUME:    Where do you write?

SR: I write at my desk at home.  I also write at my desk at school. In graduate school I wrote a lot in cafes and food establishments. I don’t do that as much anymore because I have dog with anxiety and spending lots of time away from her isn’t good for her. I had a favorite cafe here in Utica but it’s been closed for a few months. I’m hoping it reopens soon because it feels like a safe writing space has been ripped away! My writing process is more about carving out the time, and less about where. I will write in a notebook if I don’t have a computer with me. I’ve tried not to attach my writing to any particular place because it’s so important now to do it at all that being particular about a place seems like a hindrance to my process and I just can’t afford any reasons not to write.

PLUME:     Do you have any writing rituals?

SR:   I’ve actually tried very hard not to have writing rituals. I do try to write every day and that’s the only ritual. I noticed if I have superstitions or rituals it can become an excuse not to get the work done so I try not to have any. One ritual I’ve tried not to be too obsessive over is listening to music when I write. I like to listen to one song on repeat–for however long I’m writing and in some cases that’s been multiple hours. I’m not sure what it does, but it helps especially for prose. I used to do this in college when writing my dissertation. I think that’s where it started. Taking walks every day also helps. That’s something I’ve only recently started to realize was linked to my creativity.

PLUME:  How supportive is your local community for writers?

SR: I’m not totally sure how to answer this question. I think there is a large music and food scene in Central New York, but the writing scene really leaves something to be desired. The cafe that recently closed had open mics every Thursday and I loved attending, but since it’s shut down I haven’t been going out of my way to attend open mics. Even those open mics (which are supposed to be for just poetry) in recent years have gotten taken over by comedians wanting to practice material or songwriters who perform music during the writing open mic. We also don’t have a local bookstore. This seems symptomatic of a community that hasn’t yet learned to words on their own terms. I host a reading series and it’s a challenge to get people to attend–even though it’s free and high-caliber, relevant, writers routinely perform. I think this community has a different relationship to books and words than the one I grew up in, which sometimes makes me feel very lonely, and other times makes me feel very unique.

PLUME:    What are some of your self-care practices?

SR:  Therapy, daily walks, and I recently have started forcing myself to read for pleasure at least twenty minutes a day. I used to not allow myself to read anything that wasn’t part of my teaching during the semester and I think that’s a huge mistake. Allowing myself to read for pleasure even just twenty minutes a day has allowed me to feel less like I’m on an island of work that I can’t get off of. It also makes me feel like I’m able to keep somewhat current on books coming out. I used to let stacks of books pile up for a break and then beat myself up if I didn’t through all of them. I think this practice has been the best recent one I’ve adopted.

PLUME:   What is your favorite book about writing?

SR:  This is a tricky question. I actually generally don’t like books that are consciously about writing. I’ve read a bunch and often found they didn’t quite read all the way true to me. I realize that doesn’t mean they aren’t for others, and I’ve taught quite a few books on writing because I think they work for my students and that’s important. Ones I’ve used with success are; Janet Burroway’s Imaginative Writing, Bret Anthony Johnston’s Naming The World and Other Exercises For the Creative Writer, Elizabeth Gilbert’s The Big Magic, Mark Strand and Eavan Boland’s The Making of a Poem: A Norton Anthology of Poetic Forms, and Aristotle’s Poetics. My favorite book on writing is probably Melville’s Moby Dick. The white whale melts into a good metaphor for writing a book.

PLUME:     What are you currently working on?

SR: This very second I’ve been writing poems again. They stopped coming for a while, and now they are coming again. I’m also working on a monster essay that maybe needs to be split in half soon. Recently, I’ve been sitting down to write and I’m not sure what genre I’m writing in and that does happen but usually by a certain amount of pages I’ve figured it out. With some things I’m working on the distinction between poetry and CNF has not emerged. So I’m writing hybrid suddenly which is very scary. There are no rules for that so it feels very open and also very frightening. I’m also always working on larger memoir project I’ve been toiling away at for years. I’m getting to a point where I need to make some serious decisions about that manuscript. I may need to scrap it and start fresh. The work, is the work, is the work. It comes and it goes and I am still here receiving it. So, hooray for that.

Suzanne with her dog, Rosie