An Interview with Daniel Umemezie

The 2026 Final Thursday Reading Series starts on January 29 at the Hearst Center for the Arts with a special event featuring the Cedar Valley Youth Poet Laureates, Lamya Pratchett (2024) and Daniel Umemezie (2025). Umemezie was also recently named the Midwest regional winner and will compete for the national title this spring. The Final Thursday Reading Series takes place at the Hearst Center for the Arts in Cedar Falls, Iowa. 

There will be an open mic at 7:00 p.m. (bring your best five minutes of original creative writing). The featured reading starts at 7:30, and it will also be simulcast on Zoom. Click to register for a link. 

Interview by Jim O’Loughlin. 

JIM O’LOUGHLIN: How did you start writing poetry?
DANIEL UMEMEZIE: I started spontaneously, really. I wrote a poem for a children’s day celebration when I was about 10 years old, and ever since then, I have written. Between the years, however, I had a hiatus from writing. This coincided with moving from Nigeria to America. And then I had a class with Michelle Rathe, and she convinced me to start writing again, and I owe a lot to her. The amount of growth I have had in the past years due to writing poetry has been nothing short of staggering, and I am constantly amazed at the way poetry impacts others around me, as well as the way my poetry has impacted people around me. I think it would be an understatement to say, "I am in love." 

JO: What stood out about your experience with the Iowa Youth Poet Laureate program?
DU: The biggest thing for me was the plethora of opportunities it brought and the chance to connect with other youth about poetry as a tool for change. I often encountered poets working in different modes, which complicated my understanding of how poetry operates formally and its many forms of impact on the world and society. 

JO: What tips do you have for writers who are just starting out?

DU: First, learn to cut everything you love that doesn't serve formal necessity. The hardest discipline isn't generating material, it's recognizing when your most compelling lines are decorative and when that beautiful metaphor is functioning as evasion rather than precision. Secondly, study formal constraints not as an exercise but as growing commitments. Don't adopt voice as persona or code-switching as decorative alternation between registers (some examples). Commit completely to what a given constraint reveals about the territory you are trying to explore. Read widely, not just to imitate techniques but to understand how formal innovation functions, noticing things like how structure enacts rather than describes meaning. Try to develop your own formal ideas before worrying too much about publication or audiences, and accept that your weakest work will come from inconsistency of execution, not lack of capability. The work will then be maintaining commitment when it would be easier to accommodate. Lastly, recognize that poetry isn't just self-expression; it's a world, a reality. Write realities into existence, and don't forget to have fun and play. 

JO: What hopes or plans do you have for the future (as a writer or in general)?
DU: I’ll always write, in some shape or form. But I want to major in aerospace engineering and minor in creative writing, continuing to write poetry, and eventually writing a poetry book and a memoir, maybe.

New Semester, New Poster!

 The Spring 2026 poster is set. If you want to get Zoom links for all the live featured readings, CLICK HERE.

An Interview with Adrianne Finlay & Rachel Morgan

Adrianne Finlay & Rachel Morgan

The November Final Thursday Reading Series takes place one week early due to Thanksgiving. It is a special “Sudsquicentennial” event as part of UNI’s 150th anniversary celebration. Authors Adrianne Finlay and Rachel Morgan are also the proprietors of Semisweet Soaps, an organization that sells handmade soap to raise money for type 1 diabetes research. The evening will feature artisan soaps combined with short literary pieces. In-person attendees will receive a free sample of their work (as supplies last), and other Semisweet offerings will be available for purchase. 

The Final Thursday Reading Series takes place at the Hearst Center for the Arts in Cedar Falls, Iowa. There will be an open mic at 7:00 p.m. (bring your best five minutes of original creative writing). Finlay and Morgan takes the stage at 7:30. The featured reading will also be simulcast on Zoom. Click to register for a link.

Interview by Jim O’Loughlin.

JIM O’LOUGHLIN: Can you explain how you two decided to start Semisweet Soaps and what your work with it has entailed?
RACHEL MORGAN: After my son was diagnosed, I read a lot of medical literature about diabetes, and started a blog, called Semisweet. Adrianne had been making soap for a little while, and encouraged me to try it. We’re both creative people: writers, knitters, so soapmaking was another natural creative project for us. One Saturday morning, Adrianne said, “Hear me out…” She pitched using the Semisweet name, combining forces, and making soap to sell, so we could donate the proceeds to type 1 diabetes research. In 2015, we hosted our first open house, and now it’s 10 years later, and we’ve donated over $8,000 to type 1 diabetes research. Specifically, we’ve donated to Beta Bionics; Breakthrough T1D (Formerly JDRF); Spare a Rose, Save a Child; and Faustman Lab

ADRIANNE FINLAY: I started making soap in 2013 when my wonderful mother-in-law declared Handmade Christmas, which is a great idea. The only trouble was, it was declared in November, so I only had one month to figure out a handmade gift for everyone in the family. I made a few rules for myself regarding this task: the gift had to be consumable, it had to be useful, and it couldn’t look like it was made by a drunk monkey. In my search, I stumbled on handmade soap, something that felt both useful and luxurious. And yes, that Saturday morning I texted Rachel and said, “I have a really good idea…” Then I walked over to her house with my “hear me out” pitch. 

JO: It wasn’t the plan when this event was scheduled, but, appropriately, November is Diabetes Awareness Month. What should people be more aware of when thinking about diabetes?
RM: My world was rocked when my son was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at 3 years old. T1D is an autoimmune disease, and there is no cure for it. To stay alive, folks with type 1 diabetes have to do the job of a pancreas, which means regulating their blood sugar with either sugar or insulin. In someone without type 1 or 2, your body keeps your blood sugar between 70-140. Numbers below 40 could mean seizure or death, and numbers above 200 could mean damage to the eye, kidneys, and circulatory system over time, or acute coma and death if the numbers are high enough. Basically, if you have type 1 or know someone who has type 1, these realities are always in the back of their mind. This is to say nothing about the price of insulin, one of the ten most expensive liquids on earth. I have so much to share about T1D history and advocacy, so ask me out for coffee and we’ll talk.
AF: I’ve learned a lot about type 1 since Rachel’s son was diagnosed. Our kids have all grown up together, and we even live across the street from each other, and I’ve witnessed the challenges faced by the parents of a kid with type 1 and the challenges facing the kids themselves. If we were going to be making and selling soap anyway, it was important to me that it be for a good cause. 

JO: Can you describe the soap-making process for both of you?
RM: One of my favorite kinds of soap to make is castile soap, which is a very mild soap made from 100% olive oil, and it has to cure for an entire year before it’s used. At a minimum, cold processed soaps take about 4-6 weeks to cure, so before we have a soap sale, we have to plan ahead, and getting some of the ingredients, such as lye, can be difficult. Once we have everything, it’s a process of exact measurements, temperature monitoring, and basically mixing lye water into a combination of oils and butters, then pouring soap into molds. My favorite time to soap is in the fall, when the temperatures and humidity are lower.
AF: Rachel’s castile soap is great. It’s probably the most gentle soap out there. The process of soap making isn’t complicated, but it does require care: goggles, thick gloves, even closed-toed shoes. When my kids were smaller, I’d make sure they were out of the house before soaping, both because of the caustic smell of the lye and the danger of it. Now, I’m a little more comfortable with it all and enjoy the focus it requires and the satisfying results. A little lye water and some oils and, through the magic of chemistry and saponification, a whole new compound is formed: soap! It’s pretty pleasing. 

JO: Okay, you knew this question was coming. You are both creative writers. Is the soap-making process at all similar to the work you both do as writers, or is it wholly unrelated?
AF: As a writer, I think one of the reasons I like soapmaking is because it’s satisfying in a completely different way. I like baking too, and that’s similar. There’s no revision in either process: the final product is what it is, and it feels clear and straightforward. Not a lot of subjectivity, unless I guess we’re picking which scents we like best. It can be fulfilling, as a creative person, to do something that, while it does require attention and focus, does not need the analysis, judgment, and intuition that is essential to creative work. Kind of like giving my right-brained self a rest.
RM: Well, there’s math and chemistry in soapmaking. In writing, a great portion of the process is revision. If I’m working on a poem and an ending isn’t working out, I can put the poem away and come back to it later for revision. So much of soapmaking is very specific: measurements of lye, water, butters, and oils. Also, in cold process soapmaking, it’s done at a certain temperature, which you have to monitor. If the chemical process goes wrong, there aren’t revisions, like in writing. 

JO: What do you like best about soap making?
AF: I think I can answer this for both Rachel and me. Each of us loves engaging with the community and seeing the people we’ve known for years as well as anyone new who comes to buy our soap, and we love that it’s all going to fund type 1 diabetes research. We hold an annual Semisweet Holiday Open House in my home before the holiday season. We have snacks and socializing, and people come to buy our products. Not just soap, but lip balm, lotion, sugar scrub, and more. It all makes fantastic holiday gifts and stocking stuffers. No one is unhappy to receive a beautiful, locally made product that goes to a good cause. We welcome everyone, and if you’re interested, we’ll be at 519 Iowa Street in Cedar Falls on Sunday, December 14th from 1:00 - 6:00 p.m. Stop by, we’d love to see you!

An Interview with Ted Morrissey, Brady Harrison, and Grant Tracey

The October 30 Final Thursday Reading Series features a live recording of the podcast A Lesson before Writing with co-hosts Ted Morrissey, Brady Harrison, and Grant Tracey. Morrissey is the author of numerous books, including the award-winning novels Mrs. Saville and Crowsong for the Stricken, and the publisher of Twelve Winters Press. Harrison is a scholar of Western American literature whose creative work includes the books A Journey to Al Ramel and The Term Between: Stories. Tracey is the author of the just-released novel, A Shoeshine Kill, the fourth book in the Hayden Fuller Mystery Series, and Fiction Editor for the North American Review. 

The Final Thursday Reading Series takes place at the Hearst Center for the Arts in Cedar Falls, Iowa. There will be an open mic at 7:00 p.m. (bring your best five minutes of original creative writing). The featured reading/podcast begins at 7:30 and will also be simulcast on Zoom. Click to register for a link.

Interview by Faith Okon. 

FAITH OKON: How did you three decide to start this podcast? What keeps you coming together for these conversations?

TED MORRISSEY: I know it was my idea or at my instigation, but I’m not exactly sure what got me thinking about it in particular. The three of us got together in the same physical space the first (and only, so far) time in Albuquerque, for the Southwest Writers Conference (in 2021, I think, or 2022) and had a blast talking about writing and books, etc. So doing a regular podcast would give us the opportunity to get together (remotely) and have those same kinds of conversations. I delayed starting it for a while because I thought I’d need special equipment, and software, and know-how. But then we started doing Zoom readings to launch books, and I realized we could use that technology to do a podcast. At first, I thought we’d just do a YouTube-based podcast, but some early watchers encouraged me to expand to other platforms, so I added Spotify and Apple Podcasts. I really enjoy our conversations and look forward to them every month.

BRADY HARRISON: The podcast! When Ted proposed it, I thought, sure, why not? What could be better: we get together once a month to talk about books, writing, publishing, journals, teaching, and more: what’s not to like? I look forward to catching up with Ted and Grant, and I especially like the old school, DIY feel of it: we have a topic in mind, but we also let the conversation go where it will, and we don't worry too much about tech or glam. (Grant and I were raised on punk, and back in the day, he used to invite me to sit in on his punk rock radio show, “The Spirit of ‘77,” and it feels like we just picked up where we left off: talking about the things that matter to us.) What I like most about the podcast: being in community with Ted and Grant and our listeners.

GRANT TRACEY: I just love hanging out with the guys and talking art. In the past few years, I’ve delved into writing a series of crafting crime articles for the North American Review’s Open Space platform, and when we get together, it expands my base of knowledge for future articles and helps me appreciate the work editors do. From both Ted and Brady, I’ve learned to have a greater appreciation for experimental literature and works that demand a lot from their readers. Brady’s new novel, A Journey to Al Ramel, is absolutely amazing, and it works on two levels: it’s accessible storytelling and has a sturdy adventure plot line, but it’s also rich in meta detailing, allusions, and connections to other works. And Sean Flynn shows up. How cool is that? 

FO: Throughout your discussions on the podcast, you’ve covered a wide range of topics related to writing and literature. How do you decide what themes to focus on for each episode?
TM: I select the featured story that we do in each podcast. Often times, though, I have in mind something Brady brought up or something Grant brought up in a previous episode, and that leads me to select this story versus that story. In the days leading up to a recording, one of us may jump on our text thread with an idea that we may want to talk about. Sometimes we actually get to that idea, but many times we don’t. The conversation just veers off in a certain direction, and we go with it. I teach creative writing for two different universities (undergrads for one, MFA students for another), so I’ll come up with ideas I want to talk about based on things that come up in my classes. Both Brady and Grant have a wealth of teaching experience, so I’m always curious how they might respond to a particular issue. In sum, the featured short story we’re going to talk about (recently published in a lit journal) provides some structure, and we have a vague idea of things we might want to address. But really, it’s free-flowing, and we never know for sure what we’re going to talk about. We never run out of things to say; we always have to cut off the episode.

BH: It’s just as Ted says: in the days leading up to the podcast, we’ll text back and forth: we should talk about X, or Y has really been on my mind of late (as I’m wrestling with a story or working on a novel or getting ready for classes), and we fire ideas back and forth and we sometimes get to them during the podcast and often we don’t. I like the energy of the conversation and the way things take on a life of their own. We have scores of topics we’d like to discuss about writing and writers and publishing and idea leads to idea—half the fun for me is how much I learn from our conversations. Most of all, I hope that our listeners get lots of ideas and practical advice about writing and publishing.

GT: I’m always blown away by what Ted and Brady have to say about the featured story for each podcast. They’re so smart and kind and empathetic to the work. And their genuine excitement creates an energy ball that we all toss around the room with vigor. It’s very cool. I always come away a richer man for having the conversation. I’d call our talks structured improv. We have a format, we have an opening topic, and then we riff. Sometimes, alas, I jump the gun and start talking about the featured story ahead of scheduled programming (because there’s something in the craft I want to get on Front Street and explore), much to the consternation of the fellas. LOL. 

FO: Have the discussions you’ve had on the podcast impacted your own writing or creative work? If so, how?

Ted Morrissey

TM: I find our conversations very stimulating. I get ideas for things to read and writing techniques to experiment with. Also, I’m forced to articulate things I have in mind but have never really fully grasped myself. Thinking through concepts and sharing them with these guys helps me to make those concepts more concrete and more useful. One specific example: I have a poetry collection coming out in 2026, and I thought about including a glossary with the collection. So I asked Grant and Brady what they thought: yes, glossary? No, no glossary? We had a really fascinating conversation about the pros and cons, and Brady and Grant came down on opposite sides of the question. Their feedback was really helpful (I’ve decided no glossary).

BH: Great questions. Just as Ted says, I learn from our conversations all the time. Every month, I get a chance to listen to really experienced writers talk about craft, and how to shape scenes, and how to handle dialogue and showing versus telling, and so much more. More, and as Ted also says, our conversations force me to think through and articulate (on the air!) my own practices and approaches and ideas. When I’m working on my own stuff, I often think: how would Ted handle this? How would Grant? I get to learn from deeply experienced and extraordinarily well-published writers, and it’s all for free! Best of all, it encourages me to keep evolving: we all have different approaches and philosophies, and I’m absorbing ideas and strategies all the time.

GT: Ditto to what Ted and Brady said. I’ve learned to have a greater appreciation for complex, experimental work. Moreover, Ted models, in my mind, what a good editor should be. If you like the work, publish it. Enter into the editorial process, but don’t hijack it. Respect the work and approach what you’re going to publish with humility, aligning yourself with the artist’s vision. In terms of my own writing, I learned that less can be more. By that, I don’t mean minimalism; I mean don’t try to create uncertainty for the sake of placing the readers in uncertainty. In my fourth Hayden Fuller novel, I got a little carried away with em-dashes at the end of every paragraph of dialogue, and I used free indirect discourse a bit too freely. I didn’t see my own flaws, but during one podcast, I went on and on about how I like the featured literary story for that week and how the writer mixed vivid prose with complex characterizations. The prose was clean, easy to follow, but dynamic. A few days later, Ted contacted me and said, kindly, “About that—your stories want to reach the truck drivers and the literary-minded, and I’m afraid they’re going to be confused by all the literary pyrotechnics on display and give up. I’ll publish the book as it is, but I want you to think about it.” I took the note, thought about it, and, in a final pass through of A Shoeshine Kill, made several changes for clarity. I think it makes the book much better. 

Brady Harrison

FO: What have been your favorite episodes or topics to discuss? Looking ahead, what are your plans for the future of the podcast?

TM: The only episodes that have been themed have been our October episodes, which have a Halloween-inspired theme. We talk about Gothic books, movies, and techniques of writing Gothic fiction. It’s a howling good time. Otherwise, we don’t have themes for our episodes. We talk about whatever comes up. In March, we’ll be at AWP in Baltimore. It will be the first time for Twelve Winters to have a booth at AWP. We probably won’t record an episode while we’re there, but we’ll interview various writers and use that material for bonus episodes (which we do from time to time).

BH: Agreed: I love the Halloween episodes. I often teach a course on the Brontës and the Gothic, and I can’t wait to talk about Gothic fiction and frights with Ted and Grant. More broadly, I also really enjoy discussing the stories that Ted selects. We cover a range, from very traditional to experimental, and some we love, and some we like less, but whatever the case, we dive as deeply as we can, in the time available, into the thematics and craft of each story. And, for the record: there’s a lot of truly astonishing work going on out there, and we’re glad to do what we can to spread the word.

GT: I love talking hockey, whenever we can talk hockey. 

Grant Tracey

FO: Is there any question I should have asked but didn’t? If so, can you ask and answer it?

TM: I talk to my students about the importance of writers having a community—other people who take writing and publishing as seriously as they do. Quite honestly, Grant and Brady are my community. They’re really the only people in my life who have such similar interests and experiences that I know they can relate to my goals and aspirations, my frustrations, my little victories. Their souls tick to the same rhythm, the same vibrations as mine, and that’s really important. I’m delighted to be their publisher but even more so to be their friend and colleague.

BH: Absolutely: why won’t Ted let Grant and me talk more about hockey during the podcasts?! (Just playin’, Ted! Grant and I grew up in Canada, so we come by our love for the game quite honestly.) I’ll close by agreeing with Ted: what’s best about the podcast, and working with Twelve Winters Press, is the community: we love books and stories and we love talking about writing and publishing, and we’re on each other’s side: I can’t wait to hear what the guys have been up to since we last met and to hear more about their ongoing work and publications and more. We may never be famous and rich, but we do get to do what we love, and I hope that that shows in the podcast. To quote Austin Powers, it’s all very groovy!

GT: I really love these guys. It’s a treat to get together and rap. I think we’re all simpatico, kindred spirits. We care about art, each other, our students, and all those aspiring writers who are tuning in. We respect and listen to each other (we don’t always agree), and I learn something from every episode. And I think we’re all humble. We talk about the need for writers to have rhino hide to keep going, and I think that’s our goal: inspire others to keep going, keep writing!!

An Interview with Monica Roe

The 25th anniversary season of the Final Thursday Reading Series continues with young adult novelist Monica Roe. Her novels include Air, the Wilderness Ridge series, and Thaw. Support for this event comes from the Ila Hemm Visiting Author Program. The Final Thursday Reading Series takes place at the Hearst Center for the Arts in Cedar Falls, Iowa. There will be an open mic at 7:00 p.m. (bring your best five minutes of original creative writing). Monica Roe takes the stage at 7:30. The featured reading will also be simulcast on Zoom. Click to register for a link. 

Interview by Sheila Benson. 

SHEILA BENSON: I am fascinated by the many, many hats you wear. Can you talk about how your public health hat and disability inclusion hats influence your author hat? 
MONICA ROE: What a great question. Public health and disability inclusion advocacy evolved pretty organically from my early days of clinical practice as a physical therapist. Both look at the overall health and well-being of broader populations of people, including factors which may (or may not) adversely affect access to services, education, jobs, social integration/engagement, and quality of life as a whole. Being rural-born and raised, I found myself naturally drawn to rural and remote area clinical practice—in Alaska and elsewhere—which further led me to consider how factors such as disability, geography, rurality, and socioeconomic status present both unique challenges and opportunities for anyone who exists within those intersections. As for my writing, I think I finally realized that I tend to do my best work when I write what I know—which seems to have led me down a path of writing real stories for real kids doing real things in real places. While I never set out specifically to tell a "rural story," or an "inclusion story," or a "public health story," somehow those bits and pieces of all my experiences and interests always seem to thread themselves into my work in unexpected ways! 

SB: You split your time between Alaska and South Carolina, which is also fascinating. What brought you to both places? 
MR: Straight-up wanderlust. :) I wound up in Alaska about a year after graduating from physical therapy school. While I originally went with the intention of paying off my student loans (plenty of people don't want to work in AK in the dead of winter, so it can pay rather well), I soon fell in love with the place and ended up spending the vast majority of my clinical career practicing in small, off-road communities all over the state. South Carolina happened just as randomly. Four years into my Alaskan career, I asked my (then) travel recruiter to please send me someplace warm—just for one winter. I ended up working at a tiny, rural hospital in the center of South Carolina and enjoyed myself so much that I decided to stay for an entire year (just to see if I could commit to one job and one place for that long). Just as I was about to head back north, I ended up meeting my husband-to-be. Over the years, we've gone back and forth between AK and SC, with a couple of segues down into southern Belize for variety. We're currently based in SC, due to some extended family needs, but travel back to AK when we can and are always ready for the next adventure. 

SB: You keep bees! What brought you to beekeeping? Has beekeeping worked its way into any of your writing, and if so, how? 
MR: We stumbled into beekeeping by accident over ten years ago when we stopped by an educational booth at the South Carolina State Fair. We were immediately hooked and promptly joined our local beekeeping association to learn more. We have had as many as 24 hives in the past (that lasted exactly until we became parents, ha!). In this season of life, we generally keep about 3-5 hives at any given time, leave most of the honey for the bees to enjoy (we do take a frame or two for ourselves, of course!), and offer educational outreach on a local level from time to time. Honey bees are a lot of fun to work with and observe, and I find their strongly female-driven hierarchy wildly fascinating. Bees do find their way into my writing on occasion! For example, in Air, Emmie's best friend, Alejandra, is an aspiring beekeeper. I have a few bee-specific book ideas floating around in my brain, which hopefully may take shape for future projects—stay tuned. :) 

SB: How do you see your writing positively impacting rural health and rural spaces? Feel free to wax eloquent about all things place-based here. 😀
MR: The places that shape us can have such a profound impact upon who we are, how we engage with the world, and how we view ourselves. For rural communities--who are often either absent from or misrepresented by more dominant cultural narratives—I think that having authentic, nuanced, sensitive, and engaging portrayals of their daily realities can hold so much value. In my opinion, we need so many more writers from rural backgrounds working in and contributing to the publishing and storytelling world. Our numbers are slowly growing, but the needs are great. and many aspiring rural writers face unique barriers-—on multiple levels—to being welcomed into those spaces. I don't have many lofty views about my potential broader impacts as an author—imposter syndrome is real, y'all, and deep down, I'm just a kid from dairy country who somehow stumbled her way into this world and is figuring it out as she goes! But if I were to hope for my books to achieve only one thing, it would be for them to encourage kids of all abilities growing up in rural spaces to see and believe that their stories—and the places that shape them—hold value, beauty, and a whole universe of potential. 

SB: Finally, it wouldn't be an interview with me if I didn't ask about pets, specifically dogs. Do you have any dogs? Wish you did? 
MR: I'm not actually much of a dog person by nature! That said, my dog-adoring husband and daughter have brought me a long way since my single days of only keeping pet reptiles. We currently have two dogs running around our place, and I'm reasonably fond of them both. 😉 Sally, our elderly border collie, is far too smart for her own good, chronically anxious, and can be counted upon to ignore at least 75% of the directions I give to her. To counterbalance Sally's high-test nature, we also have Drumstick. Drummy is a corgi/fox terrier mutt with the ears of a fruit bat, the legs of a dachshund, the heart of a lovebug...and a very uncomplicated brain! Pretty much the only thing that ever upsets her is being left out of anything fun. 

Hoing & Hileman at FTRS

 

An Interview with Bao Phi

The 2024-25 Final Thursday Reading Series concludes with poet and children’s book author Bao Phi. Phi is the author of the poetry collection Thousand Star Hotel (Coffee House Press) and the children’s book A Different Pond (Capstone Young Readers), a Caldecott Honor book. He is also a performance poet who is a two-time Minnesota Grand Slam champion and a National Poetry Slam finalist.

The Final Thursday Reading Series takes place at the Hearst Center for the Arts in Cedar Falls, Iowa. There will be an open mic at 7:00 p.m. (bring your best five minutes of original creative writing). Bao Phi takes the stage at 7:30. The featured reading will also be simulcast on Zoom. Click HERE to register for a link.

Interview by Maeve Miller.

MAEVE MILLER: In Thousand Star Hotel, you explore your experiences as a Vietnamese American, addressing issues of racism, violence, and discrimination. What role do you see poetry playing in challenging societal prejudices, particularly regarding the “invisibility” you reference in your poems?

BAO PHI: I believe all of us need to contribute to changing the world and engaging in dialogue with the tools we have and in the arenas we operate, and poetry happens to be mine. And not by accident: I come from a big, economically poor refugee family. Poetry is an inexpensive art form, generally speaking, and I gravitated towards it both for those pragmatic reasons and because of the freedom of form it offered. Because poetry doesn’t have a huge readership in America, I don’t know if it’s the most effective tool to mitigate invisibility, to be honest. But for what it’s worth, I came up through spoken word, and there’s something to the urgency and the audience-building capability of that art form, especially in the late 90s through the early aughts, that provided an opportunity to communicate your ideas to broad swathes of the community. And it helped that a lot of spoken word artists came from various historically marginalized, systemically silenced communities. 

MM: Your book also contains powerful reflections on fatherhood and raising a child. How has being a father influenced your poetry and perspective?

BP: I didn’t really write biographical poems until I became a father. My first book was largely made up of persona poems. When my partner and I at the time decided to have a child together, we went to a lot of meetings with doctors, care practitioners, doulas, and midwives. I remember going to a meeting where we went through a questionnaire. It asked if anyone in either of our families had survived war. And it really struck me. Although I was just a baby during that trauma, there were studies that suggested that though I may not have conscious memories of it, it's in my DNA, and I'd pass it along to my kid. So I felt like if something were to happen to me, what would my kid have to try and understand that chunk of them that they inherited from me? So I started writing more poems that leaned biographical.

MM: Parents shape our lives and our worldviews in one way or another. Your parents’ experiences as refugees often come up in your poems here—I’m remembering “Frank’s Nursery and Crafts,” “To Combust,” and “Lead,” to name a few. How do you approach writing about trauma that is both personal and intergenerational?

BP: Very carefully. I’m protective of my parents and my kid for very different reasons. There are multiple tensions I hold when writing these poems: how will my parents, who don’t have any power or influence in the American court of public opinion or the literary world, be perceived and subsequently treated? Is what I’m writing useful to anyone, or is it poverty porn, or trauma porn? There are a lot of tensions that, I think, any writer who chooses to explore personal experience has to reckon with. 

MM: As a spoken word artist who also publishes written poetry, how does your process differ when writing for the page versus the stage?

BP: There isn’t a difference. I approach both the writing of the poem, and then the reading or performance of a poem, as craft. When I choose to read a poem on stage or on a recording, each poem requires a different approach, a different energy. I write the poem first and worry about the performance later. But I want to emphasize that the reading of the poem is also craft. It’s labor, it’s practice. 

MM: You’re also a children’s book author whose work includes the Caldecott Award-winning A Different Pond? Can you talk about that process and what makes it similar to or different from writing poetry?

BP: It’s similar in that the art form itself lends to brief and dramatic form. You’re looking to condense. It’s different in that you don’t have to rely solely on your words. There are some things the illustrator can do for you in collaboration. For instance, in my newest book, there’s a part of the story where I want a character to reflect on their past. In a poem, I’d need to do that in verse. But in a picture book, I can make a note that I want the pages to convey a certain set of ideas, and the illustrator and I can collaborate on what those actual images can and will be. In my picture book, A Different Pond, I wanted to convey that the fishing trips the father took their kid on was more about feeding the family, and survival, more than sport. And that sometimes that was desperate and counter to the law. Instead of needing to either explicitly explain that, or figure out a poetic way to say it, the illustrator simply drew a sign on one of the pictures that read “No Trespassing.” These are great questions. Thank you!