Sonia Nicholson’s work has appeared in Inspirelle, Literary Heist, Pinhole Poetry, Heimat Review, Rivanna Review, The New Quarterly, and others. Her writing explores themes of memory and identity. A Portuguese Canadian, she was born and raised in Osoyoos, British Columbia. She holds a Bachelor of Arts Degree in French and Spanish from the University of Victoria and continues to call Victoria home. Her debut novel Provenance Unknown was published in 2023 (Sands Press) and 2025 (She Rises Studios), and she has written two more. She is also the author of a poetry micro-chapbook, Asleep/Awake (Stripes Literary Magazine).
You can read Pierre and Marthe in the October 2025 issue.
Would you like to tell us a little bit more about your poem? For instance, how or why you wrote it, or perhaps provide some extra context?
This poem was inspired by the 2023 film Bonnard: Pierre and Marthe, which explores the relationship between the famous Post-Impressionist French painter Pierre Bonnard and his model, muse, and eventual partner and wife Marthe. Equally tumultuous as passionate, the complicated dynamics between them are underpinned by love and an understanding and acceptance of each other. Pierre was unfaithful. Marthe experienced episodes of mental illness. And yet, they grew, and grew old, together, moving from Paris, to the countryside, to the South of France. From unabashedly jumping into the Seine naked near their country house in younger years, to their last days together at Le Cannet, Pierre working on his renowned paintings of flowering almond trees. The line “Enterre-moi” comes from the film; Marthe asks Pierre to “bury her” – that is, for her to die first – because she can’t bear to be without him. And ultimately, she does. When she passes in their bed, he picks up the book she was reading and closes her eyes after seeing them for the last time. It was this scene in particular, overlaid with flashbacks of his memories of their time together, which kindled the poem.
Is there a collection of poetry that never leaves your (perhaps metaphorical) nightstand?
E. E. Cummings: Complete Poems 1904–1962 is, without a doubt, the most important and influential collection of poetry in my life. The volume moves from the coffee table, to the nightstand, to my study, to the sofa. It’s the palate cleanser I return to between working on longer projects. The safe space where I find inspiration and myself. If my house were on fire and I could safe only one book, it would be this one.
Cummings has always been a major influence for me, and as such, my poems often contain visual elements including spacing (or lack thereof!), words, and letters that create a relevant shape; mimic a meaning, or evoke an experience or sensation. I play with form and make deliberate choices in order to convey emotion, and juxtapose concepts or images while at the same time blending them. The concrete components are just as important to the poems as the words or letters themselves.
How do you revise your work?
I’m not sure I should admit this, but when it comes to poetry, I rarely revise. I may make some minor tweaks at the end before I call a poem finished, but more often than not, they appear fully formed. I’m convinced that I am merely a vessel for them to come from wherever it is they come from. I’m sure poets far better than I am take their time, let their words percolate for a period before returning to them, carefully tending to them as one does a garden. It’s a beautiful and poetic process in and of itself. And sound advice – advice I wish I could follow. For me, writing is an intense, out-of-body experience. The “birth” is fast and furious and I am left exhausted, in awe of this precious little creation that carries parts of myself and wondering how I could produce such a thing.
As a poet, what does creative success or achievement look like for you?
Initially, success as a poet for me was defined by production. It still is, really, but as I grow in my craft, additional layers of achievement are added to that productivity base: micro-chapbook (which happened in February 2025), then a full-length collection (in progress), perhaps acceptances in some high-tier journals that I feel are currently out of reach, or that I have no business submitting to. (Imposter syndrome is real!) But as I was saying to a friend today, if my work can make someone think, and/or make someone feel something, then that’s success. That’s the ultimate goal (or should be) for any creative: artists, authors, screenwriters – when you strip away the credits and prestige, what’s left is inspiring an emotional response.
What are you reading or watching or listening to lately that intrigues or inspires you?
Only recently have I realized that so much of my work of the past few months or longer has been inspired by famous painters primarily from the mid- to late-1800s to the 1920s, particularly those who worked and/or studied in France. It may seem obvious to others, especially given the influence France has had (and continues to have) on my writing. But I honestly did not see it until I began researching for my next novel, which features the work of Claude Monet. Once I went back through my poetry and other writings of the past year or so, I found mentions of and references to Emily Carr, Mary Cassatt, Frida Kahlo, Monet, Picasso, Van Gogh, Yves Klein, and Toulouse-Lautrec, in addition to the use of general painting terms. And so I’ve now more purposefully embraced this line of inspiration, reading art history books, visiting galleries, and watching documentaries.
Do you have a trusted first reader and how did they win the honour?
I have a couple of trusted first readers who came into the role organically. Poetry is probably the most intimate, personal form of writing, and so sharing it is that much more difficult. It means laying yourself bare and being completely vulnerable to someone else, for whom the interpretation is equally personal. They may not understand it. They may not feel or see the messages and themes that for you resonate so strongly. To share is to take an emotional risk. The people who read my poems first are those with whom I’ve already shared the deepest parts of myself before they’ve ever read a word. They are fellow writers, as creative and sensitive as I am. They are visionaries who also see the world through a neurodiverse lens. And they are my people – “ride or die” friends who understand what it’s like to feel different and whom I know will always stand by me. It’s their faith, support, and encouragement that pushes me to share my poetry with the wider public.