An interview with rob mclennan

Born in Ottawa, Canada’s glorious capital city, rob mclennan currently lives in Ottawa, where he is home full-time with the two wee girls he shares with Christine McNair. The author of more than thirty trade books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction, he won the John Newlove Poetry Award in 2010, the Council for the Arts in Ottawa Mid-Career Award in 2014, and was longlisted for the CBC Poetry Prize in 2012 and 2017. In March, 2016, he was inducted into the VERSe Ottawa Hall of Honour. His most recent titles include the poetry collections A halt, which is empty (Mansfield Press, 2019), Life sentence, (Spuyten Duyvil, 2019) and Household items (Salmon Poetry, 2019), as well as a small handful of chapbooks and pamphlets with No Press, Penteract Press, post ghost press and above/ground press. He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the University of Alberta.

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

I’m not entirely sure how I began. I was fortunate enough to have a social circle in high school that was also emerging into writing, performing and making music, but I had started my own random scribbles here and there well before any of that. Hindsight suggests that I absorbed both my father’s self-driven work ethic as an Eastern Ontario dairy farmer, and my mother’s stubbornness, both of which kept me writing long enough to get into the habit, the rhythm, of daily routine. But how did I begin? I had older cousins who read to me before I began school, and was immersed in books at a pretty early age. I was always one of the first to be allowed into the next level of my junior-school library, etcetera. I don’t know how it began. Perhaps it was always there.

Occasionally I am impressed that, throughout my twenties and into my thirties, I kept pushing so hard on my writing, despite whatever difficulties—financial, publishing, etcetera—might have set in my way. I think I have always been good at the long game, even to the point of keeping all of my teenaged writing journals for the sake of my eventual literary archive (which was submitted to the University of Calgary a couple of years ago). I mean, who does that?

I recently posted an interview with Newfoundland novelist Terry Doyle that referenced something told to him by Yann Martel, the advice to ‘write as though he had but a month to live.’ Honestly, growing up with an ill parent probably pushed me harder than just about anything else, the idea that she might have had plans for herself, most of which weren’t possible, due to her illness. I knew pretty early that I had to get as much work done and published as I could, before something outside of my control made that choice impossible.

What poets have influenced the ways in which you write?

During my later teens, I latched on to the work of poets such as George Bowering, John Newlove, Leonard Cohen, Margaret Atwood and Richard Brautigan. Bowering was an important discovery for me, not just for his specific interest in writing out the local, but for his editorial and critical work, sending me out in numerous directions as reader, writer, editor, critic/reviewer and publisher. Through him, and later, others, I realized the importance of the broad spectrum, as well as the importance of doing work on and for others.

Later, my work was influenced by poets such as Robert Kroetsch, Artie Gold, Andrew Suknaski, Jack Spicer, Barry McKinnon and John Newlove, all of whom I return to, as required.

Over the past decade or so, I have been far more influenced by poets such as Rosmarie Waldrop, Emmanuel Hocquard, Kathleen Fraser, Cole Swensen and Anna Gurton-Wachter. The list gets perpetually longer, shifts and adapts. As it should.

Have you noticed a difference in the ways in which you approach the individual poem since you started publishing full-length collections?

My shifts away from the individual poem came prior to that. While I did shift into the book as my unit of composition, I had been a number of years composing chapbook-length works, having moved away from the individual poem so early in my writing that I can’t even remember a time when I may have written them. I write books, and have now for many years. Books that weave into and around other books, including my own.

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

I think mentorship is essential, and I know I have benefitted multiple times over, even from the most casual gesture by a more established writer. Part of being involved in the writing life, I believe, is to keep an eye out for each other, and to assist where and however necessary, especially towards those who are just emerging, or going through difficulty. Anyone who writes should be attentive to what it is we owe it to those who helped us, and to pass along the same. It is one of the ways in which we can guarantee a healthy literary culture.

I was incredibly fortunate during my later teens and immediate twenties in that I had a number of poets who provided encouragement—including Gary Geddes, Henry Beissel, Mark Frutkin, Diana Brebner and Michael Dennis—although frustratingly little in the way of editorial guidance.  Hindsight, again : none of them really understood what it was I was working from, let alone working towards (I suspect I was also a combination of floundering and woefully inarticulate).

The fact that they took me seriously and my work seriously was enormous, and provided me enough push to keep myself moving forward. By my mid-twenties, I had started publishing, editing and reviewing as well, and interacting with Ken Norris, Judith Fitzgerald and George Bowering, who were able to assist with reading recommendations and general advice and encouragement. Judith was important enough that we gifted our wee girl, Aoife, Judith’s name as one of her middle names.

You are currently editor/publisher of a number of projects. Why was this important, and have you learned through the process?

Patience, I would think. Although the lesson allows itself to be applied to anything I might be working on, I’m not specifically sure what prompted it, apart from experience generally.

I have always considered that if you wish to participate in anything – whether arts, or business, or whathaveyou – you have to get a sense of what has happened before you, and what is happening around you. Being such an active reviewer, editor and publisher has allowed me nearly thirty years of awareness into contemporary writing, and I am perpetually reaching out to see beyond the scope of the boundaries of my own knowledge and reading. What else is there, out to be read, absorbed and understood? Whenever I run a poetry workshop, I suggest that if you wish to build a proper house, it is important to know of as many tools as possible, so as to apply the right tool for the job. I am wishing to learn, re-learn or simply be reminded about all of the tools. And the tools keep changing, obviously.

What are you currently working on?

Since January, I’ve been working on a poetry manuscript tentatively titled « book of magazine verse , » although its been called that long enough that the tentative title has grown into the actual title. I often utilize titles as place-holders, but they occasionally become intertwined with the manuscript-in-progress, akin to vine in the brick; I wouldn’t be able to switch out the title now without tearing out important parts of the foundation. Last year, I carved out a chapbook-length piece, « snow day, » that has begun morphing into a longer, full-length manuscript. I’ve added a further section to same, and am slowly considering a further section. I’m still feeling it out, although short stories began resurfacing another couple of weeks ago. Who knows where that might end up.

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

Lately I’ve been enjoying new work by Isabella Wang, Marty Cain, Julie Carr, Magdalena Zurawski, Zachary Schomburg, Nikki Reimer, Trish Salah and Ben Robinson. And of course, there are those poets I would publish repeatedly and forever, if they would let me, including Gil McElroy, Julia Polyck-O’Neill, Anna Gurton-Wachter, Jessica Smith, Elizabeth Robinson, Monty Reid, Jason Christie, Sarah Mangold, Stephen Brockwell and Kate Siklosi (among others, of course). I mean : my entire publishing enterprise and editorial stance is built upon the idea that there are writers out there that deserve far more attention than they are currently receiving.