Showing posts with label Adrienne Gruber. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adrienne Gruber. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 June 2019

Adrienne Gruber : part four

When you require renewal, is there a particular poem or book that you return to? A particular author?

There’s a few. Broom Broom by Brecken Hancock is one that always helps me find my way into my own poems.

Tuesday, 4 June 2019

Adrienne Gruber : part three

What other poetry books have you been reading lately?

I’m part of a sweet poetry book club, which is awesome because I find I don’t get a lot of time for pleasure reading these days. Some of the books I’ve read and loved over the last year are Don’t Call Us Dead by Danez Smith, Trauma Head by Elee Kraljii Gardiner, After Birth by Elizabeth Ross, The Carrying by Ada Limon, War/Torn by Hasan Namir, Chenille or Silk by Emma McKenna, Dear Current Occupant by Chelene Knight, and Precious Energy by Shannon Bramer.

Tuesday, 28 May 2019

Adrienne Gruber : part two

What do you find most difficult about writing poetry?

Finding the time to get truly into it. There are many parts to writing that are difficult, but right now I just wish for more time.

Tuesday, 21 May 2019

Adrienne Gruber : part one

Adrienne Gruber is the author of three books of poetry, Q & A (Book*hug), Buoyancy Control (Book*hug) and This is the Nightmare (Thistledown Press), and five chapbooks. She won the Antigonish Review’s Great Blue Heron poetry contest in 2015, SubTerrain’s Lush Triumphant poetry contest in 2017, and her chapbook Mimic was awarded the bp Nichol Chapbook Award in 2012. Originally from Saskatoon, Adrienne lives in Vancouver with her partner and two daughters.

How do you know when a poem is finished?

I don’t necessarily ever know. My latest collection, Q & A, probably contains some of the most ‘finished’ poems of all my collections, but even those poems could be tinkered with forever. I think it depends on your definition of finished. Sometimes a poem is finished when I’m tired of it and I know if I keep working on it I’ll ruin it. Sometimes it’s finished because life is moving on and if I don’t call it done then it will never move forward. Sometimes a poem is finished because it feels right every time I read it.