An interview with Shazia Hafiz Ramji

Shazia Hafiz Ramji’s first book, Port of Being, is forthcoming from Invisible Publishing in fall 2018. She is the author of the chapbook, Prosopopoeia (Anstruther Press, 2017), and her poetry and fiction are forthcoming in Best Canadian Poetry 2018 and The Humber Literary Review, respectively. Shazia is an editor for Metatron Press and Canadian Women in the Literary Arts.

How did you begin writing, and what keeps you going?

I'm not sure how I began writing, but I constantly remember writing when I was young, even though I didn't think of it as "writing" at the time. I remember writing stories between sets of Apogee racing games on my first computer and writing poems in front of the TV. I used to love animals, like many kids, and I remember being overwhelmed by beautiful and sad things, which moved me to write. To be honest, I think writing was like a tic. I remember being hyper aware of the seemingly small moments of sadness and awe and the complexity of things. In many ways, I'm still motivated by nuance and complexity. On good days when I feel strongly about my work, I'm almost always motivated by loneliness – to try to reach another person out there. That doesn't always mean that the writing is going to be hopeful or optimistic. Sometimes I write to make sense of the world. Sometimes I write for the dead.

What poets have influenced the ways in which you write?

Far too many to name. Off the top of my head: Dionne Brand, Ken Babstock, Richard Siken, Phyllis Webb, John Thompson, Rimbaud, Solmaz Sharif, Kaveh Akbar, Jonathan Ball, Terrance Hayes, Mark Strand, Fred Moten.

Your first full-length collection, Port of Being, is scheduled to appear this fall with Invisible Publishing. What was the process of putting together a full-length collection, compared to putting together your chapbook, Prosopopoeia (Anstruther Press, 2017)?

Prosopopoeia brought together some poems I'd written over the years. It's not necessarily unified, though themes and connections emerged after seeing the various pieces in conversation with each other. The chapbook clarified my obsessions with surveillance, geography, time, and relations between people and objects, and it began to couple those with more personal experiences of loneliness, addiction, and clinical depression. Recognizing these connections in the chapbook was crucial for the book. When I was writing Port of Being, I constantly jostled with the weight of these personal experiences and a sense of responsibility to facts, history, and the experiences of other people. This struggle was intensified when, a few years ago, a thief who stole my laptop followed me and had knowledge of my whereabouts. It was a traumatizing experience that made the more removed preoccupations with surveillance and space far more personal and immediate. The book has a clear arc (at least to me) that moves into the lyrical. I should clarify that the book isn't about me being stalked, though. I've preferred to tell it slant (thanks to Emily Dickinson for the wise words!). It began with research, which led me to undertake a kind of surveillance (after Vito Acconci's Following Piece) in return, and this gave rise to the first part of the book. The process of putting together the book was like following a trail of myself in the world and mapping it all together. I learned so much about the world (for lack of a better word) when writing this book and that makes me feel okay.

How important has mentorship been to your work? Is there anyone who specifically assisted your development as a writer?

Mentorship has been extremely important. Wayde Compton's work has been influential for me for many years now. He is the director of The Writer's Studio at Simon Fraser University, which I was fortunate enough to be able to attend thanks to a scholarship. As well, Port of Being received the 2017 Robert Kroetsch Award for Innovative Poetry, for which Wayde was the sole judge. He is a kind of bright light for me through his work and his words. And, Meredith Quartermain, who was my mentor at the The Writer's Studio, continues to be important for me. She encourages my curiosity about Vancouver and my interests in psychogeography and theory, and she understands things deeply. The integrity of my undergraduate professor, Jeff Derksen, still carries me through my work. I would not be where I am without them.

Over the last year or so, working with Dr. Ian Williams at UBC has pretty much changed my life. His approaches to poetry and writing balance a kind of rigour and play, experimentation and lyricism, which I have yearned to find. As well, it's really something to be able to talk to a prof about diaspora and similar histories, and all kinds of sensitivities around navigating the literary world as a visibly racialized person and how it affects the work. Because of Ian, I was able to be on a panel at the Canadian Writers Summit and share the research process that gave rise to my first book. As well, I had been reluctant to share the research process for my book prior to speaking with Ian, because the stalker incident and the subsequent surveillance I undertook made me feel uneasy. But, Ian has been encouraging, critical, and generous. His presence makes me feel less alone.

You were the poetry editor for PRISM International and are currently on the editorial board. Why was this important, and what did you learn through the process?

During my time as the poetry editor at PRISM, it became apparent to me that I had to ask for the work I wanted to see. I sought out work by emerging writers, such as Mohammad Kebbewar, with whom I worked to develop his poetry. It means a lot to me that I gave him his first professional publication. Recently, you asked me for some work. I sent you a poem called "Conspiracy of Love," which I thought I could avoid sharing, because it's a harrowing poem for me. The fact that you asked me for work made me feel okay and safe to share this scary poem, which was received surprisingly well! It was a relief to see this poem in the world because it's a very important poem for me. It's dedicated to those who have experienced addiction and clinical depression. It's not meant to be a poem for anyone else. This was partly the nervousness around this poem. My point is that editors have to ask for the work they want to see. When I was at PRISM, it was clear to me that if I wanted to work closely with writers, I would have to balance my workload by publishing more polished pieces so that I could devote time to giving a few writers in-depth developmental edits. I wish that wasn't the case, but it was. I've been a poetry editor for book publishers, and I think that the one-to-one work ethic for book editing is something I've tried to bring to editing for magazines, just to remember the reasons for doing what we do, which can get lost in the face of quick turnarounds and deadlines. It's very fulfilling to be able to work closely with writers, and I'm glad I have the chance to do so as an editor at Metatron Press and the Vancouver Manuscript Intensive.

What are you currently working on?

I'm working on reading! I'm finding it important to read for pleasure, especially as I continue to work on a book of stories that seems to be turning into a novel (god help us all) and a second book of poems. Reading reminds me how this party got started and why I should still be attending... 

Can you name a poet you think should be receiving more attention?

Faith Arkorful.