Yvette LeClair is an activist, administrator, and compulsive note-taker. She came of age reading a lot in the suburban Ontario of the seventies. Her writing explores the finding of place and voice in a world that increasingly “others” women, trauma survivors, workers, and those who are ageing. Her work is forthcoming in Queen’s Quarterly. She lives in Toronto.
You can read Bypassing Acheron in the October 2023 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?
The first line is a sentence I wrote in my journal at a time when I was deeply depressed. I was soothing myself by concentrating on the beautiful colour on the cover of my notebook. Re-visiting that entry, years later, coincided with a deep dive I was doing into Gwendolyn MacEwen, particularly her collection Afterworlds, in which she makes reference to the rivers of Hades. Red, the flaming river, poetry. It all came together from there as an homage to Gwendolyn and as a reflection on the saving grace of art.
Why was the poetic form the best fit for this particular piece of work?
My brain works in patterns and connections. It is convinced that a line I read is connected to a picture I saw which is connected to a personal experience and so on. Poetry is really the only form that makes sense of all this stimuli. It provides the container.
How do you revise your work?
I always begin writing in longhand. When I’ve got the skeleton down in my notebook, I transfer the piece to my laptop and edit and rearrange from there. Final polishing is usually done while pacing and reading aloud. I can spend thirty minutes deciding on a conjunction. It’s maddening.
How or where or with what does a poem begin?
For me, it’s usually a line over which I’m obsessing, either my own or a quote. Sometimes it’s an image.
Occasionally, if I feel like writing but don’t have a starting point, I’ll jot down a poem I enjoy and have a conversation with it. I’m working on one of those right now.
How do you make space for poetry in your daily routine?
I’ve not figured that out yet which is frustrating. For now, I just make sure I carry my notebook everywhere, so I can write anytime something occurs to me.
What are you reading or watching or listening to lately that intrigues or inspires you?
I’m reading a lot by and about Elizabeth Hardwick lately; Seduction and Betrayal as well as some of her Collected Essays. She crafts a sentence like few others.
The poet I’m spending time with is Liz Howard. I admit to feeling her work emotionally more than understanding it intellectually. She intimidates me in a good way with her brilliance. I introduced myself to her at an event recently and fan gushed. It was embarrassing.
Have you ever received advice (or has there been something you’ve learned on your own) about writing or revising poems that has made you a better poet? What was it?
One is always told to read, read, read. Thankfully, that comes naturally to me. On the rare occasions when there are a few hours in which to work, I will usually begin by reading for an hour or so. Poetry, fiction, essays – whatever strikes me at the time. Hearing different voices is so helpful.
I’ve been writing poetry for a long time but only submitting for about a year and a half. I can be quite shy and found it to be intimidating at first. A while back during an online workshop about getting your work out there, the facilitator advised, “Trust that it’s finished. Trust that it’s good”. Learning to trust my writing has calmed me down considerably.
The most recent and exactly right piece of “advice” I’ve heard is from Natalie Shapero in her August 2023 interview on The Poetry Foundation’s Poetry Off the Shelf podcast. In it she says that her Step One for any poem is “What am I feeling the most feelings about and what has endurance?” I love that so much.