Writers Recommend

“Three years ago I picked up Marjorie Welish’s third book of poetry, The Windows Flew Open (Burning Deck, 1991), in a used bookstore in the Midwest as I was preparing to move away. I’d never read a word by her nor had anyone recommended it to me. I was searching for one last shard of mystery in a town that had been formative to my understanding of myself as a poet, and had become perhaps too familiar. In that moment for no particular reason the universe emphasized this book. I took it to Brooklyn, unpacked, read it on the subway.

“When my words are jammed, I like to draw or paint. It’s a relief to let go of language for a few hours and work using light and shade. Drawing always feels more physical than writing—it clears my mind. Many of my blocks come from anxiety about whether I can excel as a writer. Painting calms me because I do it primarily for myself. I become absorbed in how the papery skin of a garlic bulb is streaked with ochre. Stories can seep into that calmer mind. The very best thing is to leave the house with a small box of paints. Outside, I’m jolted from my home’s overly familiar images and objects.

“I grow concerned when I find myself slipping into the same familiar skin while writing—when my mind reaches for the overworn but close-at-hand images, diction, syntax, and moves. To jostle myself out of my own stale rhythms, I like wading in strange, unfamiliar work and voices.