In conversation with – Pierre Minar

Was there an incident or story behind this poem (Dear Dad, published in Roots, Issue 1 of Temple in a City literary journal)? 

I’m adopted. I don’t really look like my dad at all. I suppose if you just saw me and him you could conjure a second parent in your mind that would produce me, but it would take a lot of imagination. And yet throughout my life people have off-handedly told me, “you have his smile.” And they’re right, I do. I like to think it’s because a small child learns by imitation; he sees an expression and makes the same expression. I learned to smile by seeing my dad’s shy sheepish grin. It reminds me that the disconnectedness I’ve felt from my family is not (necessarily) because I’m adopted; everyone is their own person, separate from their family. Likewise, anyone can be deeply influenced, shaped, and share lineage with someone through loving them.   

Describe your writing process. Are you a planner or a pantser, do you prefer to write in quiet or amid noise, do you write most effectively when you are working through a pain or sorrow or when calm and happy? Do you start with wisps or fragments or have a general sense of whole structure before going in?

I heard a lecturer say once that he doesn’t write, he takes notes and then edits. That’s my process. Especially with poems, something will arrive fully formed in my mind, usually makes me shiver a little, and I’m filled with an urgency to get it down. This initial idea usually goes into a notes app on my phone. Later, when I have time, I play with the words used to express it–my friends often hear me report I’ve been “tinkering” with my poems like Godfather Drosselmeyer in his workshop by candlelight. My poems take a long time to finish even though the initial sensation or kernel came immediately. Writing is putting words to universal feelings derived from specific, relatable experiences. Noticing the experience is the first step. Choosing the right words is the second.  

Even very successful writers get a lot of nos and discouragement. How do you deal with rejections? 

It is very hard, especially because I am still near the beginning of my poem-writing season. Mostly, I try to remember the first part of this question, that “even very successful writers get a lot of nos.” I also try to separate “no” from “discouragement.” Some of the most encouraging feedback I’ve gotten has been soft rejections or rejections with favorable comments. Those have often led to correspondence and relationships that later resulted in a “yes.”

For writers struggling right now with doubt, worry about being good enough or even the purpose of writing, what would you tell them?

Find other people to workshop with. 

There’s a lot of talk about reading for pleasure, with many not able or willing to do that. What has reading given you? If you were in a public service announcement for reading for fun, what would you say?

This question makes me weep. Reading has given me an entire universe of references, and a language for making peace in a fractured dissonant world. As a pre-teen, feeling isolated, detached, unconnected, discovering fantasy worlds like the Redwall or Tolkein set me to enjoying how vast our imaginations (with a little help from good writers) can help us to see the world around us as more coherent and beautiful, even in its misery. You can’t get that from your phone, you just can’t.