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Saturday, October 10, 2015

Introducing Geosi Gyasi

I first cybermet bookblogger Geosi Gyasi when he interviewed me for his blog Geosi Reads: A World of Literary Pieces. When Geosi says 'world,' he means it. From his home in Ghana, Geosi has reached out to writers and poets from all over, interviewing an impressive array of international figures, including winners of the Commonwealth Prize, the Orange Prize, and the Caine Prize, among others. Geosi is a prolific interviewer, and it's only fair that I should turn the tables and interview him about his blog and about his own poetry.

photo credit: Kathy Knowles
JG: You are a prolific blogger and interviewer. How has interviewing well-known writers such as Kwame Dawes and Cecilia Woloch (and others) influenced your writing style and/or drive? Or, is it the emerging writers who inspire you more?

GG: I’ve been influenced in a number of ways. First, it is important to note that all interviews I have conducted in the past demanded serious research. Through the very act of researching the works of the interviewees, I happen to fall in love with some forms/styles of writing. I have been influenced by both established and emerging writers.

JG: You review novels in addition to poetry books, and interview fiction writers alongside poets, yet you identify as a poet yourself. How did you come to realize you are a poet rather than a fiction writer?

GG: At the beginning of my writing career, I wrote a number of short stories. After a clump of submissions and a hell of rejections, I lost interest in writing fiction. Then I started writing poetry. My first breakthrough came through poetry. So poetry became my first love just because of one acceptance from an editor. For now, I am comfortable being called a poet. Maybe, in future, when any of my short stories are accepted by editors/publishers, I shall have the gust to call myself a fiction writer.

JG: To anyone familiar with your blog Geosi Reads, Benjamin Kwakye is clearly a key influence in your writing and thinking. Tell us about how you have been influenced by his work, how he came to be so important to you.

GG: Benjamin Kwakye is one writer who has influenced me considerably. First meeting him through his book The Clothes of Nakedness gave me the permission to take literary studies seriously. To date, he remains one of the most important writers writing in English. His style of writing has a certain texture and feeling that makes you yearn for more from him. I think he deserves a wider readership.

JG: At Visual Verse, you published a poem entitled “A Writer’s Block.”  Tell us about your experience with writer’s block, and more importantly, how you manage to overcome it. Do you have any advice for other poets?

GG: I was responding to a monthly prompt from Visual Verse Magazine where there was this photo with a donkey standing stiff beside an empty pool. But let’s face it, I’m almost certain, that every writer in one way or the other has experienced a writer’s block before. It’s quiet a disturbing moment when all materials necessary for you to write is available but you just can’t seem to think and write. The best remedy, in my opinion, to any writer who experiences writer’s block is to cease writing immediately and engage in any other activity other than writing. Once you return back, you’ll find something to write, at least, about the activity you engaged in.

JG: Many of your poems begin with memories of your childhood. At this point in your writing career, do you find yourself returning to any themes, including any found in your childhood? Do you have obsessions, either in subject or in form?

GG: It is only normal for me to write about my childhood experiences because I grew up under the care of my grandmother. I think that, in most cases, grandmothers tend to love children. My grandmother showed me the love and care I needed to grow as a child. But don’t ever forget that my work as a librarian has more to do with children than adults. So long as I continue to be surrounded by children, it is only fair that I chronicle their experiences into writing.

JG: What was the most exhilarating interview you’ve ever been fortunate to conduct? What made it such a thrilling experience for you?

GG: It would be hard to single out a particular interview as a personal favourite, however, I dare say my interview with the Nobel Prize Scientist and Writer, Roald Hoffmann is one of the most important interviews I’ve been fortunate to conduct. I liked that interview very well because his answers were vastly intelligent. It was so humbling, for instance, to read his response to my question about what he would like to be remembered for. His response was this: “For having done good science, and for trying, just trying, at all times to be a decent human being”.

JG: You have worked as a teacher, and now are a librarian. Books are central to your identity, so it’s only natural you should have become a writer. How does the internet culture affect how you interact with books, or even what you call literature? How do you see your future in literature, given the rapidly changing marketplace for books?

GG: The internet, in my opinion, is the most vibrant workplace in the world where many dreams can be fulfilled. The only thing the writer ought to do is to devote a certain amount of time to research. I wonder how much time it would have taken me to interview the over 300 writers I have interviewed in the past 5 years of blogging without the internet!

JG: How do you decide where to submit your poems (to which publications)? What are you looking for in an audience? Is there a geographical or thematic component to your choices, or are you concerned about the reach of the circulation, or other factors? Do you have any advice about submitting for new poets?

GG: I am not selective as to the publications I submit my poems. As a matter of fact, I submit my poems everywhere; from established to emerging magazines. I do not look for any specific thing from my audience except for them to read, enjoy or critic and make meaning out of my works. For advice about submitting, I encourage new poets to keep writing and submitting everywhere possible. If you’re rejected by a publisher, read through your work again, make the necessary changes and submit somewhere else. Never ever throw away your rejected works.
JG: One thing that you studiously do is review books. Given your special interest and widespread reading habits, what book or books that you’ve recently read would you recommend for serious readers?

GG: I would recommend the following books: Clinical Blues by Dami Ajayi, In the Kingdom of the Ditch by Todd Davis and Legacy of Phantoms by Benjamin Kwakye.

Thanks to Geosi for generously answering my questions. Please take time to check out his impressive archive of interviews at Geosi Reads: A World of Literary Pieces.

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Friday, October 2, 2015

Give (#3)

After the Moon                                                      Marianne Boruch

eclipsed itself, the rumor or darkness
true, the whole radiant business
almost over, only a line,
an edge, like some
stray part of a machine
                                                          not one of us
can figure any more:
what it thrashed or cut, what it sewed
quietly together, what it scalded
or brought back from the dead. After this,
I came inside to sleep.      
                                            But it’s the moon still,
pale run of it shaping
the door closed against the half-lit hall.
The eye is its own
small flicker orbiting under the lid
a few hours.
                        Not so long,
bright rim,
giving up its genius
briefly, mountains under dark, craters
where someone, then no one
is walking.


Mathematics is the art of giving the same name to different things. ~Henri Poincare
Poetry is the art of giving different names to the same thing. ~Anonymous


Miss Congeniality                             Laura Kasischke

There's a name given
after your death
and a name you must answer to while you're alive.

Like flowers, my friends — nodding, nodding. My
enemies, like space, drifting
away. They

praised my face, my enunciation, and the power
I freely relinquished, and the fires
burning in the basements

of my churches,
and the pendulums swinging
above my towers.
And my

heart (which was a Boy Scout
lost for years in a forest). And my
soul (although the judges said
it weighed almost nothing
for goodness had devoured it).

They praised my feet, the shoes
on my feet, my feet
on the floor, the floor —
and then

the sense of despair
I evoked with my smile, the song

I sang. The speech
I gave
about peace, in praise of the war. O,
they could not grant me the title I wanted
so they gave me the title I bore,

and stubbornly refused
to believe I was dead
long after my bloody mattress

had washed up on the shore.