PF Potvin
Dogs or cats? Although I’m allergic to both, I’d chose canines for sure. I don’t own one (for selfish reasons), but we always had dogs around when I was growing up and my parents and siblings all have dogs. I even learned to walk from our golden retriever. She had one of those hitchable tails, fluffy and inviting.
If you had to give advice to a poet just starting out what would it be? I’d dish some of the same advice I received. Read everything you can get your mitts on and work first on your own writing. Muse it. Hone it. Trash it. Begin again. When you’ve crafted something others want to read they’ll let you know by publishing it. But don’t waste your time or energy seeking approval. The limelight is mostly flicker and flame. How many prize winners of yore are we still reading today? How many artists like Van Gogh went unappreciated during their time? Above all else, remember there are a thousand paths and all require work.
How would you describe the ambiance of your work space? My brain is naturally distracted, so I can’t work in public spaces. I see those places as the outside, the scribbling-notes zone, the organic matter I carry back to craft creatures in the silence. So my writing space is quiet, with bright light, and a squeak-free table and chair. Right now I work in a basement with no windows, but I’d prefer a loft and a view, as long as the space isn’t too hot. I’m obsessed with sounds, which makes me one of those talkers, muttering or exclaiming aloud as I write or read lines (like this one). This kind of behavior would likely get me curbed from cafés, libraries, churches and the like. But it can make for good company.
What's the biggest mistake/regret you've ever made/had? When I was in graduate school, I was granted an interview with the writer Jim Harrison. It was back before he wrote his memoir and not many people had access to him. I’m from the small town of Cadillac in northern Michigan and Harrison grew up nearby. When I met him at his cabin in the Upper Peninsula, he chuckled and said he’d granted me an interview to see what the hell kind of poet could come from Cadillac. Anyway, we spent more than an hour doing the interview and several more hours talking about everything from flies to daggers to wolves to dreams. I took notes and recorded the interview on my new MiniDisc recorder. When I reached my friend’s house in Boulder, we both thought it would be a good idea to back up the voice file on his computer. But something sinister happened in the transition and sections of the interview vanished. I tried to salvage what I could from my notes, but they didn’t do justice to Harrison’s way of speaking to and around. Although my original goal was to use the interview exclusively for my thesis, I regret being unable to publish all the engaging material Harrison so generously provided.
When did you realize you wanted to write seriously? When I was in high school I wrote some serious drivel. By college I had advanced to higher forms of hogwash. By grad school I became intensely engaged in the art of poppycock but have since left that all behind in the name of seriousness.
Who are your biggest creative influences? Where to start? Italo Calvino, Amy Hempel, Gary Snyder, Julio Cortazar, Elizabeth Bishop, Charles Simic, James Galvin, Margaret Atwood, Cormac McCarthy, Kenneth Patchen, Jack Gilbert, Franz Kafka…
If you could choose one person in your life that you feel understands your work and supports you more than anyone, who would that be? My wife (Honor) is brutally honest about what works in my writing. She always has ideas to help me transform weeds into honey.
As a poet how would you define success? At the end of the day if I’ve written something that someone else wants to read, re-read, and recommend to a stranger, then I’ve been successful.
www.poetsandartists.com
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