Monday, July 10, 2023

The 40 But 10 Interview Series: Miriam O'Neal

 


I had decided to retire the literary Would You Rather series, but didn't want to stop interviews on the site all together. Instead, I've pulled together 40ish questions - some bookish, some silly - and have asked authors to limit themselves to answering only 10 of them. That way, it keeps the interviews fresh and connectable for all of us!


Joining us today is Miriam O'Neal. Miriam’s work has appeared in LA Review of Books, The Galway Review, North Dakota Quarterly, The Waxed Lemon, and elsewhere. The Body Dialogues (Lily Poetry Review Books, 2020), was nominated for a Massachusetts Center for the Book Award. Her first collection, We Start With What We’re Given, (Kelsay Press) came out in 2018. She also is a 2019 Pushcart nominee was a finalist for the 2019 Disquiet International Poetry Prize, and the 2020 Princemere Poetry Prize. A portion of her translation of Italian poet, Alda Merini’s, Rose Volanti appeared in On The Seawall. She hosts a monthly reading series, Poetry the Art of Words, in Plymouth, MA for poetry, flash, and short prose. Her current writing projects include translating a literary guide to Venice (In the Footsteps of Writers), a long essay on the life of British artist, Elizabeth Rivers and her time on the Aran Islands in Galway, and a new collection of poems in the voice of Lot’s wife. Her most recent collection, The Half-Said Things was published by Nixes Mate in April, 2022. See more at miriamoneal.com

 

 



Why do you write?  

 Writing is a way of being for me. So, I’d say, when I write I know I exist.


What’s something that’s true about you but no one believes it?

I am not afraid of the dark, nor was I as a child.


What’s your kryptonite as a writer? 

There’s a committee in my head that still doesn’t get that I am a writer. They took up residence during my adolescence and have refused to move on. Eviction hasn’t been entirely successful. They move on for a while but circle back now and then. Sometimes, when they show up, I kick them into the basement and lock the door to get things on paper.


What’s the best money you ever spent as a writer?   

Any time I can spend $ on travel, I will. My first trip to Italy changed my perspective on both myself and how I wrote, because I found myself writing to describe and to connect rather than only introspectively. I had always thought I wanted to go to Poet’s Bay on the west coast of Italy, do the whole Byron/Shelley tour, but ended up choosing Puglia, the heel of the boot on a flight of fancy (I wanted to sleep in a Trullo!). It turned out to be the best choice for me and I’ve returned there many times. Virgil had a farm in Puglia and his ‘Georgics’ are based, in part, on the farming life (and the farming gods of course) of that region. So many lovely rabbit holes to fall down there! I completed a manuscript of poems that are in conversation with Linda Gregg’s beautiful book, In the Middle Distance, during my last, pre-pandemic visit to Puglia.


If you could spend the day with another author, who would you choose and why?

What on earth would they do with me? If I could spend part of a day with the poets, Linda Gregg, James Wright, or Virgil and just compare notes on our impressions of various kinds light on the Adriatic, and then pick capers from the caper bush beside the trullo I stay in when I go to Puglia and watch the sun disappear behind the hill, that would be nice. I blame the aforementioned committee for my hesitance to take the whole day.


What are some of your favorite books and/or authors?   

For that old time religion, Virgil and Ovid; the former’s Georgics, the latter’s poems in exile. Poet Linda Gregg is a touchstone for me. Her gaze is direct and her heart is forgiving. Her images arrest the eye. I love Joy Harjo’s clear and encouraging voice. Ross Gay’s intelligent joy. Natalia Ginzberg’s sorting of rich, tiny details. Italo Calvino’s stories always convince me to suspend my disbelief. Poet, Alda Merini’s surrealness wakes me up.


What are you currently reading?    

I’m reading one hundred visions of war, by French writer, Julien Vocance, translated by Alfred Nicol (Wiseblood Books, 2022). It’s a collection of haiku Vocance wrote in response to his experiences in World War I. So, a Japanese form in the French language translated into English, expressing a universal horror. Also a collection of translated Italian short stories edited by Jhumpa Lahiri. In different rooms at different times of day.


What’s the single best line you’ve ever read?  

So far it’s one from Ranier Maria Rilke: “This is the crux of all that once existed/ that it does not remain with all its weight,/ that to our being it returns instead,/ woven into us, deep and magical:”(Edward Snow, trans.).  I know that’s 4 lines, but it’s one sentence that invites us to imagine how to live with what we’re given in life.


Do you read the reviews of your books or do you stay far far away from them, and why?

Few reviewers review small press collections of poetry, so I don’t have much to stay away from. So far, my few reviewers have been complimentary.


Are you a book hoarder or a book unhauler?

If you saw my study today, you’d say I am a book hoarder. But that’s because you didn’t see my study 6 months ago. It’s a cyclic process for me.

 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Miriam O’Neal’s The Half-Said Things is a book both meditatively considerate and bitingly eloquent. These are domestic poems on the of wilderness, poems from empty rooms in crowded houses, poems delighting in language and ripe with depth. “So I take my missing with like a parting/ gift of roses” she writes, reflecting lyrically on life and death from a calm, wisely wary place of earned experience, strength and knowing acceptance.

                                        —Stephan Delbos, Poet Laureate of Plymouth, Massachusetts

 

buy a copy here

 www.miriamoneal.com

www.amazon.com


No comments:

Post a Comment