Women Who Write: Sandra Vallie

I first met Sandra when she attended DimeStories, an open mic event –for 3-minute stories read by the author– I run in Albuquerque (and beyond). Then she signed up for my Writing Through Grief workshop. We discovered we had a lot in common, including sharing a birthday. We also had cancer in common: her husband, my sister. We also discovered our shared love for Bloody Marys– I found a true friend. Sandra is also an excellent writer and I look forward to reading her book when it is published, and I look forward to her moving back to Albuquerque one day.

PLUME:     When did you know you were a writer?

SV: I knew I could write when I was 11 and wrote 2 things – a poem when JFK was assassinated and something that was published in a national church youth magazine. And for years that’s how I saw it – that I could write. And I’ve written things for years – all those journals on my bookshelves and files full of bad poetry are proof. It’s only within the last few years that I’ve realized I’m a writer, and that’s why I go crazy when I’m not writing: putting words on paper, rearranging them, going to readings, editing, reading books.

PLUME:   Where do you get your ideas?

SV: The news, although if I try to write “about” them, it’s a bad thing. Life, and coming at those ideas head-on isn’t much better. Things I read and see – The Trust in God Deli in Newark, New Jersey is in an essay. There’s a phallic stone water tower in Ypsilanti, Michigan that I have to  put in a story some day. When my husband was in the hospital for 28 days and close to dying for many of those days, I wrote emails to my family that were actually pretty funny and interesting. I started to use those as the framework for some essays I wrote and most of them are gone. My brother told a great story about seeing a snake swimming in a swimming pond he’d built in the woods on his land on a mountain in Tennessee, and how he “went in after the copperhead.” What a line. What a thought. What a fool. 

PLUME:  Where do you write?

SV: At an old oak table in front of a window that faces Turtleback Mountain. I’ve also got a couple of horizontal surfaces off to the side where I try to keep my stuff sorted. Right now It’s a couple of piles of filing, a couple of old journals I was referencing for current work, some local poetry journals I picked up on my last trip to Albuquerque and, for some reason, an insole to a boot that’s up at my son’s house. 

PLUME:   Do you have any writing rituals?

SV: After circling around a while doing all those chores that just can’t wait, when I don’t forget I will light a candle in a terrific votive I got at RioBravo gallery here in T or C, turn on some music, and – and this really isn’t pandering – spritz some of Plume’s Be Here, Write Now. It reminds me to breathe for a few minutes. 

EDITOR’S NOTE: didn’t even ask her to talk up the spitzer! LOVE knowing it’s doing its job

PLUME:   How supportive is your local community for writers?

SV: A few years back, I found a lot of activities supporting writers in the community – readings, publications, a couple of Meet-Up groups where I connected with some writers I worked with for a few years. Then life happened and I wasn’t able to participate for a bit. Watching things from T or C, it looks like there’s a lot going on in Albuquerque and I’m excited to be moving back so I can be involved again. Maybe even find a way to create some opportunities. I enjoyed being a co-coordinator of a reading series in Ypsilanti, Michigan a very long time ago.

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

SV: Beer at a sidewalk table at Truth or Consequences Brewing. Inside it’s just beer, not self-care. Tea, the thing I do to make it (ritual sounds too grand but the process is calming). Soaking in the hot springs tubs at Riverbend Hot Springs. The pools sit above the Rio Grande across from Turtleback Mountain. My favorite time is early in the morning in the winter, watching the creatures in the river and on the far bank through the mist of the hot water meeting the cold air. 

EDITOR’S NOTE: beer at a sidewalk table IS self-care

PLUME:   What is your current or one of your favorite book about writing?

SV: They’re not so much about writing; I did find one of them reading a book about writing recently. They’ve both reminded me to loosen up my writing. One is A Postcard Memoir by Lawrence Sutin. I don’t know how many times in the past few years I’ve picked that up. The other is Mary Robison’s Why Did I Ever. I read she wrote it on index cards. For me, it’s a real lesson in telling a story in the empty spaces between what she chose to put on the page. 

PLUME:  What’s the best advice you’ve ever received about writing (or your writing specifically)

SV: I read something years ago – I think it was from a Detroit writer when I was still in Michigan – that she wrote whenever she had a minute – in a grocery line on the back of the grocery list, waiting in traffic – she was a single mom also working outside the home and if she waited until she could sit down at the table by the window, light the candle, all of that, she would never write anything. Also, revise, revise and revise some more. It scares me when I read some of the stuff I thought was done – and good – a few years ago. Oh, and learn when to walk away. 

PLUME:  What advice would you want to share with a fellow writer?

Writing is a practice; treat it and yourself with respect and compassion. The time to write is never going to be “right.” You’re the only one who can sit yourself down in the chair, where ever it is. Figure out what gets you to that chair: setting an appointment time with yourself? Getting out of the house? Practice actively naming yourself a writer. Don’t be ashamed to say it – challenge people who say you’re writing for therapy. Writing doesn’t mean publishing – although it’s wonderful when it happens if that’s what you want. Figure out your distractions and learn to walk away from them. Pay attention to what’s around you. Read everything. Try writing new and different things, especially things you’re pretty sure are going to suck, and let them teach you something. Don’t beat yourself up if you don’t write today. Set out to do it the next time you wake up. Wow – I wish I’d learned this stuff years ago. I hope I remember it. PS – have a sense of humor about it all.

PLUME:    What are you currently working on?

Three things – a collection of essays and short pieces about the few years during which my husband was diagnosed with cancer, got sicker and died, and the time after; something (not sure what it is) about what was going on in my extended family during that time, including my mother dying, that was originally background in the collection until I held my breath and cut it; a piece about finding the road home that originally came from a writing exercise I was trying: 250 words, 3 prompts, and a New Mexico location (or news story, or person). After a frustrating week of trying to cut 150 words, I let myself realize that I hadn’t failed at writing a 250 word piece, but was managing to cut to shreds something longer that I think could be pretty good.  

BIO: Sandra Vallie is a writer and sometimes poet currently in retreat in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. She received a Bachelor’s in English from Eastern Michigan University and started Master’s programs in writing at EMU and Naropa University. She learned a lot from both of them. Sandra taught writing at Washtenaw Community College, was a cofounder of the Granite Line reading series in Ypsilanti, Michigan and a founding member of the Albuquerque Ink Slingers. Mas Tequila Review, the Malpais Review and Adobe Walls are some of the journals that have published her work.