Welcome Joanna, it’s been a while since we last spoke.
Yes indeedy. Cripes, is it … ten years?!
Actually I think it’s longer than that.
Really?
Really. It was April 2014.
And that’s longer than ten years ago?
It is. It was twelve years ago.
Crikey!
At the time you had just signed on to be poetry editor at takahē magazine.
I think you’ll find it was [redacted] magazine.
No, it was definitely takahē. We just redacted the name in the blog post, because it hadn’t been publicly announced at that point.
So I didn’t edit [redacted]?
Not that I’m aware of, no.
Shame. Sounds like a great name for a lit mag.
Do you think we could swerve back in the general direction of the interview at some point?
If we must.
We must.
Lead on.
Thank you.
Click!
I’ll regret asking, but what was that?
The click?
The click.
Me metaphorically clipping the lead on.
Your love of puns hasn’t improved, has it?
Not without surgery, no.
I’m … going to move on. Joanna, you’ve recently taken a pause from your role at Sudden Valley Press. Can you tell us a bit about that?
Thank you, Joanna. Yes, much as I adore bringing new books out into the world, I found myself pretty much exhausted by the end of last year. I have a bad habit of taking on too many roles, stepping in to do too many jobs, and I was pretty much burnt out.
Not usually considered to be a sensible way of running your life.
Not especially, no. So I decided that I needed to take a twelve month leave-of-absence, and try to reset, and to focus on my own work for a year.
How did your colleagues take the news?
I think it was a mixture of concern, relief, dread, and
—overwhelming joy?
[…]
—sense of liberation?
[…]
—deep gratitude for a blessed deliverance?
You’re not helping.
I apologise. You were saying?
So it was agreed that I would continue in my role as secretary for the JOC, and would get the book we had in progress – Viv Smith’s amazing first collection, Grit – safely to the printers before stepping back.
Which you did?
Which I did.
And so, now?
Now I’m working on getting my own poetry collection complete.
Ah yes. The infamous Third Book! I understand that you’ve applied for funding from CNZ to help with that?
I have indeed.
And they’ve said yes?
Not exactly.
Not exactly?
More … no.
Oh dear.
Twice.
Oh! Dear.
Quite emphatically. So I’ve applied for residencies instead.
And?
Also no, but from different people.
Well that’s something. So you’ve been working on your own, unsupported?
Well I have legs. Although I mostly write from my writing chair, so … supported by my chair and backside?
Point taken.
And financial support from my Very Understanding Husband, and from teaching at Hagley Writers’ Institute.
Ah yes, Mr Socks. How is he these days?
Getting quite insistent about me actually taking time to write.
I have always liked that man.
I know, right?
Indeed. And I understand you gave four of the POMFA poems a test-run at the Open Mic at RAWA earlier this month?
I did. They seemed to work pretty well. Lots of positive comments.
And did you make it through without blubbering?
Yes, I did!
You did?
I did.
Really.
Just.
Fair enough.
Ish.
Moving on. How many POMFA poems are there now? You’d said before that you thought there might be six or seven? Are you finished writing them?
Umm … fifteen?
There are fifteen?
Yes.
Fifteen poems about your dead father?
No?
No?
He’s alive in some of them.
Alive?
And dying, but alive.
Ok. So, your new book is going to have fifteen poems about your dead
—or dying
—or dying, thank you, father?
Yes.
[…]
[…]
Do you want to kill people?
Not all the time, no.
Do you have a plan to make the book less
—sad?
I was going to say traumatising, but sure, let’s go with sad.
I do. There will be other poems.
Happy poems?
Yes. Probably. Some of them.
Oh god … so your plan to avoid this becoming a deeply depressing book about your daddy issues
—not my daddy issues.
Really?
He was my dad, and he died.
And that wasn’t the issue?
It was one of the issues.
Sigh …
I’ve got lots of issues.
Somehow I have no trouble believing that.
Thank you.
Not a compliment, but let’s plough on regardless.
Please.
So your plan to make this book work is to include other poems that aren’t about your dad, some of which aren’t sad?
Yes!
And have you written them yet?
No!
So this whole interview is just another form of procrastination?
Yes!
Joanna Preston, you are an idiot.
Thank you very much, it’s been fun.
Get back to work.
A Dark Feathered Art 