After many years of trying to save the world, Tamara Best fled to the woods of Eastern Ontario to raise vegetables, children, and (occasionally) a ruckus. You can read more of Tamara’s poetry in The Waterwheel Review, Sparked! Literary Magazine, NonBinary Review, Queer Toronto Literary Magazine, a recent anthology with Caitlin Press or watch a video produced by Shatterbox Theater.
Their poems “The Land Between” and “I’ll find, etc.” appear in the thirty-fourth issue of Touch the Donkey.
Q: Tell me about the “The Land Between” and “I’ll find, etc.”
A: “The Land Between” came from the prompt ‘Bridges’ for a publication last year. I wrote three totally different pieces, but none of them were accepted. So, I kept submitting them. Now, “The Land Between” has a home, and a second piece will be part of a microchapbook this summer. Speaking of home, I live in the “Land Between”, which forms a geological bridge or belt across Ontario. I hop on and off this bridge every time I go grocery shopping, it’s a very abrupt shift of terrain.
I wrote “I’ll find, etc.” with Touch the Donkey in mind. Last summer I met Khashayar Mohammadi through a reading we both presented at. Kess was very generous and gave copies of Sister Language to a number of people, including me and my little local library! After reading the book, I found your interview, and I knew that I wanted to submit a response here. The title is a quote from Christine Baille’s poem “The Cause! The Cause!” I imagine it enacted on stage like a soliloquy, but it could also be called a manifesto. Perhaps I will memorize it to recite whenever I’m asked why I take words apart and put them back together again?
Q: How do these pieces compare to some of the other work you’ve been doing lately?
A: I’m getting a kick out of the word lately because it was only a year ago that I had my first official ‘publication’, though I actually first started writing and performing my poetry 30 years ago… so really, everything that I have in my bio seems to have happened quite suddenly. However, having embraced being a poet-of-place: a resident of “The Land Between”, similar elements of rural experience are in my most recent writing. Especially since I’ve been working on publishing a full-length manuscript called “History Lessons”, which has allowed me to combine my interest in the past with my interest in nature.
Although I was inspired to write “I’ll find etc.” in the immediate and unfiltered style of Christine’s writing, it isn’t unusual for me to play around with different forms. If anything, I typically do something little bit different in every poem. I swear, I try to write narrative poems sometimes, but inevitably I start mucking about with something or other. Format, syntax, and especially vocabulary. Cutpasted for my own use. In this case, I wanted to find the reasons, so it’s a satisfying feeling to have embraced my intuitive thoughts and feelings. I don’t typically write about writing, so it was a challenge to avoid automatic clichés with the figurative wording, and more of an artistic risk to send in for review. Since this is the most abstract piece that I’ve had published, I’m particularly interested in hearing feedback about it.
Q: You mention you see yourself as a poet of place. How do you see this manifesting itself in your writing?
A: I noticed that a large percentage of my successful poems have been about my ‘neighbourhood’: the aforementioned first publication The Snake Fence (nominated for a Pushcart Prize), a recent piece in an anthology Worth More Standing, an upcoming piece with Untethered Magazine, and of course “The Land Between”. At first, I wondered if it was just a coincidence, but then I remembered my high school poetry teacher* telling me “your work is best when you combine concrete situations with the philosophical” so I’ve decided to lean into it. The reality of rural living is that you spend a lot of time by yourself, driving the same back roads, pondering the same questions, so it makes sense that these tableaux would become anchors for me. Perhaps this would happen wherever I lived, but I feel that Hastings County is especially ripe with potential stories.
As a descendent of settlers, I am profoundly grateful for this land that I inhabit. I grew up volunteering at a pioneer village and doing military re-enactments. Though I stepped back from these activities for many years to reconcile the narrative I had learned, I’ve gone back to being a volunteer at a local historic site. This site is particularly interesting because the last descendent to live there was a Spiritualist, a Poet, and a veritable mine of inspiration. In any case, I think it is important for the stories of what we call Canada to be shared by those who are mindful of colonialism and its devastating impact, rather than leaving them to be lost or worse, half-spoken.
*Luciano Iacobelli
Q: With a handful of poetry and fiction publications over the past few years, how do you feel your work has developed? Where do you see your work headed?
A: I finished the first draft of my manuscript right as covid was breaking out. Until that point no one knew that I was compiling it, so I’ve kind of fumbled through this emergence period. Without a writer’s group or regular open mic session to help me incubate, I was compelled to find writing and mentorship opportunities wherever I could find them. In doing do, I’ve pushed myself to take risks in ways that I might not have encountered otherwise. At first I was trying to regain an edge that I’d lost; now I have a résumé of experience.
Experience is very important because without it, my manuscript won’t have an audience. I’m itching to get it published of course, but I need to focus on individual publications in order to accomplish that goal. Chapbooks are a good stepping stone, so I created a shorter version of my manuscript – probably the opposite of what ‘usually’ happens but I had over a hundred pieces to whittle down – the best of the best, as it were. Beyond that I’m curious what themes will start to emerge in my writing, but I see my work getting stronger. I see myself doing readings on a book tour (nerves notwithstanding). And if look far enough, I see myself making an impact.
Q: How does a poem usually begin for you? Are there particular works or authors in the back of your head as you write?
A: “I’ll find etc.” is an exception for me in that it was inspired by a specific author and specific poem. I read a lot, mostly non-fiction, but rarely poetry. If anything, I might use a rhythm or cadence from song lyrics. The tableaux I mentioned is a good way to describe how poems begin: a moment that I can study from all angles. I’m not sure if these tableaux happen because I’m trained as a performer or if I am drawn to performance because of some innate ability, but a poem is really just a kind of monologue/dialogue.
But what is the reason, the cause? Sometimes these moments are like a photograph. It flashes and I’m able to hold that image. Often the thought is so fleeting that it gets lost aka forgotten. The poems that get written are most likely ones that become stuck on repeat in my mind; a record skipping over and over. An earworm. Perhaps annoying, but useful! Other poems are more intentional, and are constructed purposefully. Looking at these patterns, I see that there isn’t really one “usually”: sometimes I use a given prompt, other times I spew out a stream of consciousness and pick through what emerges, often I’m simply a conduit for a message out of the ether, and every so often I reach back into my memories for something that I can work with. I will posit that this flexibility is a bane against the dreaded Writer’s Block [cue dramatic music].
Q: Finally, who do you read to reenergize your own work? What particular works can’t you help but return to?
A: Bruce “Utah” Phillips is technically considered a folk musician, but he wrote and performed many stories, songs, and poems. I first heard one of the albums that he and Ani DiFranco created in the mid-90s and consider him to be a hero. His work mostly centers on the labour and anti-war movements in the United States. He’s a combination of funny, poignant, and thought-provoking. The video in my answer to question 5 was inspired by the following lyrics from “Natural Resources”:
You are about to be told one more time that you are America’s most valuable natural resource. Have you seen what they do to valuable natural resources?! Have you seen a strip mine? Have you seen a clear cut in the forest? Have you seen a polluted river? Don’t ever let them call you a valuable natural resource! They're going to strip mine your soul. They’re going to clear cut your best thoughts for the sake of profit unless you learn to resist, because the profit system follows the path of least resistance and following the path of least resistance is what makes the river crooked.Ha! It has only been in the last two years that I’ve made a point of sitting down to read poetry. I suppose I’ve done everything backwards? I worried that I would be influenced too much; partially that I might accidentally copy something, but also that I would start to over-think comparisons. I wrote a manuscript first, then started publishing, and now it’s time for that new energy. It took me a while to find something that challenged and charged me. Every time I read Lake Baptiste Ungenders Me by Cassandra Myers, I’m stopped in my tracks.
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