Special thank you to poet and author Lang Leav for offering such valuable insight into her life of writing, advice for writers, and some incredible book recommendations. Have you read September Love yet? Check out our book review here.
September Love is your seventh book of published poetry. It is introspective, considerate, and full of wonderment. How did you approach this collection (in its writing and in compiling which poems were selected) in comparison to your earlier volumes?
I was halfway through writing September Love when the pandemic hit. I completed the other half during isolation. I suppose this leant the collection a kind of duality. The introspection which is present in much of my work was considerably heightened by the six-week lockdown, which in New Zealand, was one of the strictest in the world. Everything stopped. And this sudden grinding to a halt put me in a different headspace. My priorities shifted. My calendar previously filled with travel dates and media commitments switched to meal planning, due dates for the chicken, and the rationing of supplies. This sudden need to be resourceful was born out of necessity but has since changed the way I live. In a strange way, it taught me to shut out the digital world as much as the real one. We forget sometimes that the internet is still very much a new frontier and writers of my generation are facing unchartered territory. I don’t doubt that my body of work would have been vastly different if it hadn’t been for the influence of social media. The pandemic allowed me a glimpse into this alternate universe, to write the way I probably would have, if I had followed a more traditional path.
“Ingredients of a Poem”, which can be found near the start of September Love, outlines themes, topics, and directions that poetry can take and you end the poem with the line that poetry can be: “Whatever you wish”. Then, in “No Poet”, you write that “poetry is a candle burning gently, an everlasting flame coaxing something tender, turning all toward love”. While the topic of a poem can be about whatever the poet wishes, do you think that the purpose of poetry is to evoke and/or return to a place of love and understanding either for ourselves, those around us, or our world?
The purpose of poetry has always been a subject of great contention. Some think it is a way to showcase one’s literary prowess, others believe poetry is a powerful tool that can be used to unite and inspire. Recently, we saw the latter when Amanda Gorman captivated the world with her poem ‘The Hill We Climb’during the inauguration of Joe Biden. I thought the poem was monumental on so many levels. The line, ‘even as we grieved, we grew,’ was one of clear and astonishing beauty. To me, that line alone carries the resonance of some of the greatest poems of all time. The poem in its entirety felt like a beacon of hope in a period of such uncertainty and distress. I was disappointed to see Gorman’s work panned on social media for her simple and stark use of language. The notion that poetry should be difficult is so antiquated and elitist. I lean far more toward the sentiment that poetry should not center merely on the artful depiction of emotions, but the ability to express them in a way that is resonate and impactful.
While “Stardust” and “Twin Flames” will forever be some of my favourite poems, “To the Guy Who Claims My Poetry Was The Cause of His Break-Up” is edging in to a top position. This poem, found midway through September Love, is a wonderful breaking of the fourth wall where you, the poet, respond to your reader (or your reader’s boyfriend). Many of your poems often seem to be one side of the conversation where your words speak directly to the reader. You offer commentary, advice, and consideration to your reader and even advice on managing critics in “The Golden Rule”. What do you most hope your readers will know and understand from your poetry?
My work had already gone viral by the time I posted up a picture of myself. Until then, the general consensus seemed to be that I was a dead poet, or a white, middle-aged man. I think the last thing anyone was expecting was a young, migrant woman. My sudden appearance was met with so much misogyny and derision, I was close to giving up entirely. The voices felt almost identical to the ones that had plagued me in the small refugee town where I grew up. In many ways, my upbringing had equipped me with the mental fortitude for handling my sudden emergence into the spotlight, and the consequent onslaught of sexist and racist comments. As a society, I think we must question why this treatment is reserved exclusively for women. And why these perpetrators are allowed to cause real world damage with total impunity. Many of my readers are also aspiring writers, hoping to follow in my footsteps. A large majority are young women, meaning they will likely be victims of the same targeted harassment that I have experienced. I have always spoken honestly and openly with my readers, through social media. It seemed a natural progression to continue this tradition through my work. I feel it is my responsibility to warn others about the world they are entering and ways we can look out for each other. I suppose I would like in some way to be the person to whom I would have sought comfort as a young woman at the onset of my career.
After a number of publications and much success, your writing is now well-referenced and internationally acclaimed having truly made an impact on the poetry community. In “My Poetry” you write: “I wanted you to know my poetry, but I never meant for you to know me”. How has your writing changed over the years and what influence has recognition had on how much of yourself you allow into your writing?
There needs to be a healthy separation between yourself and your work. Especially since we are all at the mercy of the internet when anything that is said about you, even false, can become deeply engraved in your narrative. Malicious spreading of lies and innuendo can lead to speculation about your private life that is not only harmful to your own mental health but affects your loved ones too, meaning the damage is two-fold. The process of writing is very much like a kind of osmosis, in the way you absorb the world that you inhabit. It has taken me years to recognise what a warped and twisted one it is. But there is so much beauty there too, and I think it is worth sifting through all the bad stuff to get to the good. Authors tend to grow through their books, and I think writing September Love was a way for me to exorcise my demons, both real and imaginary. It has shown me a way forward that feels the most authentic to who I am.
What makes a poem, in your opinion, truly great? Is it strict rules to structure, creation of a newly defined structure, the ability to evoke an emotion or feeling, the unveiling of a new truth, or something more? What makes a poem great to you?
A pivotal scene in the movie, Dead Poet’s Society springs to mind. Set in a busy classroom of an elite prep school, English teacher John Keating is scribbling away on the chalkboard, whilst referencing from a textbook titled, How to Understand Poetry. On the board, he draws out a graph measuring the worth of a poem which the students are earnestly transcribing into their workbooks. Keating appears to be going along with this process when he stops and in a dramatic turnaround, slams the textbook for its clinical approach toward something as inscrutable as poetry. He then instructs the class of stunned students to rip out the pages of the textbook, as their initial hesitancy gives way to jubilation. I was only a teenager myself when I first saw the movie, and the scene has always stuck with me. Now, as a working poet, I think it is near impossible to judge a poem, due to the subjective nature of literature. To me, a meaningful poem is the coming together of elements, that are not necessarily exclusive to the words before you on paper. I am sure we have all experienced that wonderful rush when you stumble on a particular poem, and it suddenly becomes the center of gravity, drawing everything in your internal and external world, anchoring it in that moment. That’s why you can never truly experience the same poem in the same way twice.
I encourage every writer to read your poem “The Path of a Writer” as you get to the root of the inevitable feelings they face with descriptors like “stumbling on the ruins of a lost city, talking to its ghosts”. What advice would you give to aspiring writers and poets on their own journeys?
Everyone’s journey is their own. There is no real measure of creativity and anyone who says otherwise is kidding themselves. Writing should mirror our struggles and triumphs in a way that feels inevitable. I have an almost fatalistic approach when it comes to writing. I believe if you have a real passion for writing, it’s something you will naturally pursue, no matter the obstacles that are placed in your path. Throughout my life, I have gone through so many renditions of my creative self, only to arrive exactly where I had started. I suppose the best advice I could give to aspiring writers is to simply write. All you need is a pen and paper, and you’re set. Find your voice, no matter how long it takes, or how little you are rewarded for your efforts. Be prepared to spend your whole life perfecting your craft, and to find joy and fulfilment in the process.
Are you working on a forthcoming book? Can you share a little about what it’s about and whether it’s poetry or fiction?
I tend to write poetry organically and usually, there is a work of fiction running alongside this process. The two often complement each other. With the pandemic putting a line of separation between myself and my family, I’ve become really nostalgic for my youth. For writers, there is so much rich material to be found in the unattainable. When you are put in a state of inertia, the future is uncertain, so you tend to seek comfort in your past. From this distant place that I have spent so much time revisiting, a story began to emerge, and unravel before me. Sometimes you get lucky that way, a book seems to find you out of nowhere and takes you over. Then writing becomes almost effortless.
Lastly, what have you been reading lately? Are there any books that have had a particular impact or influence on your writing that you’d recommend to our readers?
I am such a comfort reader. I tend to go through a cycle where I systematically reread all my favourite books. I’ve just finished Black Water by Joyce Carol Oates and The Secret History by Donna Tartt. Now I’m reading Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. I am so looking forward to Kazuo’s new book, Clara and the Sun which comes out next month.
About Lang Leav:
Novelist and poet Lang Leav was born in a refugee camp when her family were fleeing the Khmer Rouge Regime. She spent her formative years in Sydney, Australia, in the predominantly migrant town of Cabramatta. Among her many achievements, Lang is the winner of a Qantas Spirit of Youth Award, Churchill Fellowship and Goodreads Reader’s Choice Award.
Her first book, Love & Misadventure (2013) was a break out success, and her subsequent poetry books have all been international bestsellers. In 2016, Lang turned her attention to fiction, and her debut novel Sad Girls shot to #1 on the Straits Times and other bestseller charts internationally.
Lang actively participates in international writers festivals and her tours consistently draw massive crowds. With a combined social media following of two million, Lang’s message of love, loss and female empowerment continues to resonate with her multitude of readers.
Lang has been featured on CNN, SBS Australia, Intelligence Squared UK, Radio New Zealand and in various publications, including Vogue, Newsweek, the Straits Times, the Guardian, and the New York Times. She currently resides in New Zealand with her partner and fellow author, Michael Faudet
