Yvette Schnoeker-Shorb Q & A with Eastern Iowa Review
Chila: I love beautiful lines and you've done with "The Address Book" just as a writer should with a lyric essay: began it with some of those striking lines. Let me put two of them here: "It was the scowl and scrutiny of memory. It was the desperate disclosure and evasion when attempting to erase a past and replace it with the present." Discuss your method for developing a lyric essay at the sentence level.
Yvette: The creative process for developing a lyric essay is relatively elusive to me, partly because it depends, as does poetry, so much on subconscious streams of thoughts generated from dreams—which I sometimes write down (usually on post-its or the back sides of shopping lists when I am in the kitchen cooking in the morning). While the first part of the process requires a bit of acquired trust, when starting to actually write the essay or poem, I find that I tend to start changing many of the sentences as I work from my notes. These are usually small but significant: sometimes the changes need to accommodate for more pleasing (or startling) alliteration; sometimes a synonym that carries the same meaning as the original word works better in the syntactic environment; or sometimes redundant words or a semantic overlap needs to be deleted. “The Address Book” was insistent on being written, as I kept having dreams (three in one week) about the Emerson house. I had put off updating to a new address book for over ten years because the old one contained contacts for so many people I had known and loved but who had died. And then there is that childlike possessiveness that comes with the profound influence of growing up in a specific place. It is a very psychological process. Somewhere deep within my subconscious there is a little-girl version of myself who will never accept that strangers dwell in the house where my developmental years played out.
Chila: I find it interesting that both the lyric essay and poetry can be approached in so many different ways; that is, I rarely use dreams as a basis for my writing; instead, spaces / environment inspire most of my work. But this is the glory of variety. Saying that, however, I also find it interesting that nearly all the authors for this issue have experience with poetry. You are a poet too. Talk about your poetry journey for a little bit.
Yvette: While many of my poet friends would disagree with me, I truly think that the process of writing poetry is a biological (physiological) manifestation. By this I mean that, in some people, there are neurological structures and synaptic patterns in the brain that cause a hypertrophied propensity for metaphorization and association. I don’t think that this propensity gives any type of superior advantage when it comes to the ability to learn to write poetry or to develop the craft or to be endowed with talent. I think the main difference for those of us who have this type of neurologically induced tendency is that we start writing poetry at some point in our younger lives for no apparent reason and simply can’t stop.
Chila: That's a very cool observation. You also work with a non-profit press, Native West. How did that come about?
Yvette: My husband, Terril, and I co-founded Native West Press in 1997. In 2005, with four other board members, we officially converted to a 501(c)(3) nonprofit—which we essentially were, anyway. We have always been interested in the many noncharismatic creatures who dwell in the American West and provide such ecosystem services such as pollination, decomposition, and aeration. Additionally, our research involves understanding biophilic responses to various aspects of the natural world. We are both writers and interdisciplinarians, so we started NWP to generate multi-author anthologies with themes that would enhance and promote positive awareness of some of our less-favored other-than-human brethren and their respective habitats. One of my favorite books to work on was Blessed Pests of the Beloved West: An Affectionate Collection on Insects and Their Kin. It is amazing how many entomologists are writers and poets.
Chila: Where do you want your writing journey to go in 2016?
Yvette: I have always trusted in the muses (all nine of them) to lead the way for my writing. I am very addicted to the creative process, but where it takes me, apart from my aspirations, has always been a surprise.
Chila: What else would you like to share with us?
Yvette: Thank you for this opportunity, Chila. I am very much looking forward to reading the lyric essays of the other contributors in Eastern Iowa Review 2!
Chila: I love beautiful lines and you've done with "The Address Book" just as a writer should with a lyric essay: began it with some of those striking lines. Let me put two of them here: "It was the scowl and scrutiny of memory. It was the desperate disclosure and evasion when attempting to erase a past and replace it with the present." Discuss your method for developing a lyric essay at the sentence level.
Yvette: The creative process for developing a lyric essay is relatively elusive to me, partly because it depends, as does poetry, so much on subconscious streams of thoughts generated from dreams—which I sometimes write down (usually on post-its or the back sides of shopping lists when I am in the kitchen cooking in the morning). While the first part of the process requires a bit of acquired trust, when starting to actually write the essay or poem, I find that I tend to start changing many of the sentences as I work from my notes. These are usually small but significant: sometimes the changes need to accommodate for more pleasing (or startling) alliteration; sometimes a synonym that carries the same meaning as the original word works better in the syntactic environment; or sometimes redundant words or a semantic overlap needs to be deleted. “The Address Book” was insistent on being written, as I kept having dreams (three in one week) about the Emerson house. I had put off updating to a new address book for over ten years because the old one contained contacts for so many people I had known and loved but who had died. And then there is that childlike possessiveness that comes with the profound influence of growing up in a specific place. It is a very psychological process. Somewhere deep within my subconscious there is a little-girl version of myself who will never accept that strangers dwell in the house where my developmental years played out.
Chila: I find it interesting that both the lyric essay and poetry can be approached in so many different ways; that is, I rarely use dreams as a basis for my writing; instead, spaces / environment inspire most of my work. But this is the glory of variety. Saying that, however, I also find it interesting that nearly all the authors for this issue have experience with poetry. You are a poet too. Talk about your poetry journey for a little bit.
Yvette: While many of my poet friends would disagree with me, I truly think that the process of writing poetry is a biological (physiological) manifestation. By this I mean that, in some people, there are neurological structures and synaptic patterns in the brain that cause a hypertrophied propensity for metaphorization and association. I don’t think that this propensity gives any type of superior advantage when it comes to the ability to learn to write poetry or to develop the craft or to be endowed with talent. I think the main difference for those of us who have this type of neurologically induced tendency is that we start writing poetry at some point in our younger lives for no apparent reason and simply can’t stop.
Chila: That's a very cool observation. You also work with a non-profit press, Native West. How did that come about?
Yvette: My husband, Terril, and I co-founded Native West Press in 1997. In 2005, with four other board members, we officially converted to a 501(c)(3) nonprofit—which we essentially were, anyway. We have always been interested in the many noncharismatic creatures who dwell in the American West and provide such ecosystem services such as pollination, decomposition, and aeration. Additionally, our research involves understanding biophilic responses to various aspects of the natural world. We are both writers and interdisciplinarians, so we started NWP to generate multi-author anthologies with themes that would enhance and promote positive awareness of some of our less-favored other-than-human brethren and their respective habitats. One of my favorite books to work on was Blessed Pests of the Beloved West: An Affectionate Collection on Insects and Their Kin. It is amazing how many entomologists are writers and poets.
Chila: Where do you want your writing journey to go in 2016?
Yvette: I have always trusted in the muses (all nine of them) to lead the way for my writing. I am very addicted to the creative process, but where it takes me, apart from my aspirations, has always been a surprise.
Chila: What else would you like to share with us?
Yvette: Thank you for this opportunity, Chila. I am very much looking forward to reading the lyric essays of the other contributors in Eastern Iowa Review 2!
And we are very thankful for Yvette's lovely essay! I look forward to following her creative contributions in the days ahead. - Chila
Yvette A. Schnoeker-Shorb’s work has appeared in Caesura, Twisted Vine Literary Arts Magazine, Blue Lyra Review, Dark Matter: A Journal of Speculative Writing, Kudzu House Quarterly, Flash Fiction Magazine, Terrain.org, Lingerpost, Sliver of Stone Magazine, Midwest Quarterly, Concho River Review, The Blueline Anthology (Syracuse University Press), Talking Back and Looking Forward: An Educational Revolution in Poetry and Prose (Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group), and others. A past Pushcart Prize nominee (Poydras Review) and a recent Best of the Net nominee (Dirty Chai Magazine), she holds an interdisciplinary MA from Prescott College and is co-founder of Native West Press.
Lyric Essay Award Honorable Mention
Yvette A. Schnoeker-Shorb’s work has appeared in Caesura, Twisted Vine Literary Arts Magazine, Blue Lyra Review, Dark Matter: A Journal of Speculative Writing, Kudzu House Quarterly, Flash Fiction Magazine, Terrain.org, Lingerpost, Sliver of Stone Magazine, Midwest Quarterly, Concho River Review, The Blueline Anthology (Syracuse University Press), Talking Back and Looking Forward: An Educational Revolution in Poetry and Prose (Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group), and others. A past Pushcart Prize nominee (Poydras Review) and a recent Best of the Net nominee (Dirty Chai Magazine), she holds an interdisciplinary MA from Prescott College and is co-founder of Native West Press.
Lyric Essay Award Honorable Mention
