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Lexington-based poet Ada Limón
As the announcement for winners of this year’s National Book Award approaches, Lexington poetry fans have a local author to root for. It was announced last month that Ada Limón, a California native who splits her time between the Golden State and the Bluegrass State, had made the “short list” for the award for her poetry collection “Bright Dead Things” (Milkweed Editions, 2015).
Being chosen as a finalist is one of the highest honors in the literary world, and – perhaps in testament to Lexington’s fertile literary ground – Limòn is not the first local writer to earn this accolade in recent years. Poet Nikky Finney, who taught English at the University of Kentucky for 20 years and wrote much of her poetry at a carrel in the Carnegie Center in downtown Lexington, garnered the prize for her book “Head Off and Split” in 2012.
Like Finney, Limón brings storytelling to the forefront of modern verse. Her poetry greets the reader with warmth and kindness, but there’s also bite. There’s confusion, elation, and an incredible voice as strong in person as it is on the page. In “Bright Dead Things,” Limón tackles themes of place, love, death and friendship with the grace, generosity and charisma that it takes to engage readers from page one. Part of what makes the book so irresistible is its storytelling – Limón confides in the reader, inviting him or her into her curiosities to explore them together. Her words don’t intimidate or fluster, they encourage and excite and thrill, like poetry should.
Limón recently took some time to answer some questions about her craft and this latest collection.
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Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón
S: I started reading with the intention of browsing, but I couldn’t put it down! Each poem reads like a unique story, a snippet that’s easy to understand and yet still thought-provoking. How was your approach in writing this book different from your others?
A: Well, first of all, thank you. I’m so glad you have enjoyed reading the book! I don’t think my approach was necessarily different. I still worked one poem at a time. I was still working on craft and sound and making sure each poem felt truthful, but in this book I was very much writing for real everyday people, not necessarily poets. I love poetry, but I do feel like sometimes it can leave people out or feel like it’s obfuscating for no apparent reason, that’s not what I wanted to do with this book. I wanted it to feel like we’re all in this together. Because we are, aren’t we?
S: Do you read your poems out loud during the writing process?
A: I compose almost entirely out loud. For me, the writing process is very auditory so I have to read each line out line and feel it in my mouth and hear it before it’s done. I think in that way I can work on the sounds and the lyric tension of each line without overworking the poem into something incomprehensible for the sake of pleasing language.
S: Are you ever surprised by what you write?
A: I’m often surprised by what I write. I’m not always surprised by the subject, but I’m surprised by the outcome. I never know how a poem is going to end, so those endings are usually something that’s come burning out of the poem’s fire that I haven’t expected. That’s a thrilling experience because I’m learning about myself as I go and I have no idea what’ll happen next.
S: What scares you?
A: So many things scare me. It might not seem like it, but I’m scared most of the time. I think of that great quote by Georgia O’Keefe: “I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life — and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do.” That basically defines my life. I’m scared of sharks, but I swim in the ocean. I’m scared of accidents, but I drive all the time. I’m scared of crowds, but I’m in them a great deal. If I had my druthers, I’d stay at home with my man and my dog and write and be quiet and rest. (With the occasional ruckus dinner party with my best friends and a little late night dancing.) But the world calls that I walk into it, so I do. Life would be so boring if it were easy, right? So yes, I’m scared and yet I lower my head and keep walking through the doorways that beckon.
S: Your work is pretty autobiographical. Does what so-and-so might think about what you’re writing ever inhibit what you leave in/take out?
A: Yes. Writing autobiographical work is a risk. And yes, I’m sure it might offend some people. But I also feel like I’m comfortable with I’m writing. I’m at peace with it. There are definitely some subjects I’m not ready to write about and until I am, I won’t. I think if you’re going to risk putting it out into the world, you should be ready for any backlash or reaction. I believe in accountability and if you’re not ready to be accountable for your work, you might not want to share it.
S: What are some of the benefits of cultivating relationships with other writers?
A: My friendships with poets and other creators are not just important; they’re life saving. My friends Jennifer L. Knox and Jason Schneiderman read every new poem of mine. Adam Clay and Michael Robins provide constant support and encouragement even when things look bleak. We tour together and have the best time. Although we’re all about the same again, I’m the little sister in the band. Rachel McKibbens writes me out of the blue and saves me from feeling alone in this madness. There are so many people that I’m grateful for, I only hope I’m as good as a friend to them as they are to me. The poetry community is full of amazing generous souls. Writing can be such a lonely thing. It requires alone time and quiet observation, but when you have this system of support, you can do it. We hold hands across the satellites and get through this life together.
S: Has being a finalist for this award changed you at all or your perception of yourself as an author?
A: It hasn’t really changed my perception of myself as a writer. It’s still just me writing poems in a room. But, it’s been so overwhelming and wonderful, too. I never thought anything like this would happen to me. I know that I have readers that care about me and my work, but I’ve never had this sort of reaction to a book. As writers, you know, we’re used to failure. We know what to do with failure. We get up and brush ourselves off and get better. But this sort of recognition is so beautiful and shocking that emotional, that I don’t know how to handle it really. I’ve been napping a lot. cc
National Book Award Winners in the categories of poetry, fiction, non-fiction and young adult literature will be announced at a ceremony on Nov. 18.
Wild Fig Speakeasy: A National Book Award Party for Finalist Ada Limón
The Wild Fig Books & Coffee, 726 N. Limestone
Thursday, Nov. 12 // 6:30-8:30 p.m.
Featuring music, food, and a reading and book signing by Ada Limón before she flies out for the National Book Award Ceremonies.
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