Ann Wilberton is the author of the poem The Salt Marsh House, the first to be published in the Lefty Blondie Press Editors’ Choice Broadside Series. She spoke to us about her writing process, how experiencing awe affects our physical and mental health, and how a critical brain injury at the age of forty brought her home to poetry.
LBP: What does your writing space look like?
AW: My wife and I share an office in our house. The desk is in a bay window and looks out over our street. It's our favorite room in the house. It is so bright and positive. There is a line of cacti on a wide windowsill and when we sit at the desk, our backs are to a row of bookshelves housing all of our books. This is where I type it all up and keep all my nerdy stationery supplies.
The second space is in our garage. Last year we bought a small house with a giant garage that has heat. We created an art studio in half of it. I have a small foreman’s desk looking out a window. I call it my thinking desk. I read/write/doodle/sketch at it and sometimes I just sit and look at our backyard. There is no screen usage in the garage unless someone needs a source picture of something they are drawing.
The third space is a notebook. I tend to draft at the dining room table or in a coffee shop or a library. All I need is the current notebook and a pencil and I’m ready to go.
LBP: Do you start writing in longhand?
AW: I always start in longhand. I might even do one revision in longhand and then I type it up and do more revisions, send it to a writer friend or two and do final edits. Then I will let it sit for a while and go back and reread it. If it’s not working, I leave it. I have a pile of “not working poems” that I sometimes go through and try to salvage or just steal the idea and start completely over.
LBP: Do you have a writing routine?
AW: My current routine is a non-routine. Last summer my wife and I bought a house. I gave myself a year to shift priorities. I’ve also been traveling a lot back to New Jersey to support my Dad who is caring for my mother. The year is almost up and I have identified time slots to use as committed writing/thinking time. Meanwhile, I have written random poems and poem snippets.
I have learned that even when I'm not actively working on a writing project or even one poem, I am still a poet, walking through my life with a poet’s senses. I keep a list of ideas and inspirations. I keep reading poetry and thinking about poetry.
LBP: How has your relationship to writing changed throughout your life?
AW: There are so many ways to talk about this but it always comes back to before my accident and after my accident. In 2005, at the age of forty, I sustained a brain injury in a scooter accident. Before my accident I wrote sporadically, going years without writing anything. I saw it as a pursuit that I could do or not do. After my accident and a three-month period of what my doctor called obsessive creative output, I approached writing as both needing to tell a story and also, seeing what I could do.
Now, I write to express something in a particular way. I’m searching for the vast quietness, when everything slows down and I’ve captured something important and I just think, “Yes, that’s it.”
Submitting work, getting published, to me is entering into the conversation. In my case, that means participating in the conversations around aging, gender, disability, sexuality, and the natural world.
LBP: Is it important to you to find a writing community?
AW: In my twenties, I earned an MA in Poetry. Then I lost the poetry urge. After my accident, I only wrote prose. I wrote two YA novels and a handful of lyric essays. In the spring of 2020, I got the chance to work on a memoir with a mentor, Lara Lillibridge through AWP. I would send prose to Lara and then we’d discuss it. As time passed my work turned to layered fragments. I felt very excited about this turn and then she asked me, “Have you ever tried poetry?” and it was like something clicked and I just switched.
I have a hard time “quitting” anything, but I just did. I let myself off the hook for ever getting those YA novels published. I let myself off the hook for writing a memoir in any traditional sense. I leaned into poetry and it felt like coming home. I realize that is a cliche, but that is exactly how I felt. I felt relaxed and relieved. Yes, this is where I’m supposed to be.
Taking classes, finding mentors and writing partners can really help you grow.
LBP: Do you work in any other mediums?
AW: I quilt and make textile based art. I also paint. I bought a bandsaw over the winter and will be using it to make art with wood.
I have never stopped making art, looking at art, being inspired by art. I have vivid memories of being blown away by a piece of art. Even now, art gets past my memory problems. For example, I can remember the exact feeling I experienced at The Met in NYC when the elevator doors opened to Kerry James Marshall’s The Lost Boys.
LBP: What can poetry do?
AW: For me, poetry can give me a sense of awe. Florence Williams, in her book Nature Fix, talks about how powerful experiencing awe can be for our physical and mental health. I think art and words can do that. Poetry is particularly great for accessing our sense of awe because the poet is allowed to break rules to evoke a sensation or feeling. A poet can create rhythm and song both dissonant and harmonious. A poet can create images. I’m not saying it's easy to do; but it can be done. This is why poetry can be so healing.
Submit your work to the Lefty Blondie Press Editors' Choice Broadside Series
Open to self-identifying women or non-binary poets of any age & any publishing history!
October 1 - January 15
Submit up to 3 poems, all in one document
Start each new poem on a new page within the single document
No limit on form or topic, though 40 lines or less work better for the broadside format
Previously unpublished poems preferred
Previously published may be considered if author owns copyright and includes acknowledgement in Bio section of submission form
Simultaneous submissions accepted. Please notify us immediately if your poem is accepted elsewhere.
The poet of the selected poem will receive 5 (five) author copies & lots of praise, adoration, and promotion through social media, literary festivals, independent booksellers, & any other collaborations LBP seeks out.
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