Once I left the judicial robes behind the things I was permitted to engage with exploded. I regained my intellectual agency, and my words just came back to me one day. I am drifting towards protest poetry and replanting the Greek myths in prairie landscapes at this stage in my long-delayed writing career.
Would you please tell us about your writing process?
As a poet I have my observational eye open to the world at all times. When something resonates with me – an image, an experience or a story – I make a few notes on my phone and get back to it later for shaping on my laptop. You can find me hiking through the Canadian boreal forest tapping away on my phone, dodging roots and capturing fragments of poetry. Once those seeds are planted my fingers get twitchy to water them and I move from inspiration to craft and work at my desk or my dining room table until I am satisfied with the results.
What is the role of the writer in society?
I think I can only speak to my role as a writer in society. I have been thinking about this for awhile. I have returned to writing after a long silence where I practiced law and sat as a judge in criminal court. My role was constrained during this time – it was less about my own view of the world and more about the system I existed within. You had to be aware of the rules, of precedent, of caselaw, of statute. Once I left the judicial robes behind the things I was permitted to engage with exploded. I regained my intellectual agency, and my words just came back to me one day. I am drifting towards protest poetry and replanting the Greek myths in prairie landscapes at this stage in my long-delayed writing career. As a writer I believe my job is to pay attention and to communicate what I see—to avoid sleepwalking through life.
What have been your most meaningful or profound experiences as a writer?
I started sending my poetry off to journals about a year ago and have had some success but also have had many artfully worded rejection letters. These are discouraging, of course. This experience made me thoughtful about how and when and where I wanted to share my work. I started a practice this summer of writing my poetry on the street in chalk. The poem only lasts until the next rain but while it is there people walking by can stop, read, photograph and engage with the work—and do! This has been an act of community engagement that thrills me. My theatre company also began an Open Mic Night in the spring for writers. This has shown the writers in our small city that they are not alone in their solitary endeavour and grown our sense of artistic community. On the recognition front I won the San Miguel International Writers Festival Poetry contest in February and had the opportunity to perform at the festival. That was a treat.
Where are the best places to live/visit as a writer?
There are poems that we hold close as truths I think. I studied William Carlos Williams’ Poem The Red Wheelbarrow during my undergrad degree. Such a short and simple and powerful piece – so much depends/upon/a red wheel/barrow/glazed with rain/water/beside the white/chickens. The poem reminds us that the particular matters. Poetry and art are everywhere, in every community on every continent. You just have to pay attention and polish whatever rises up for you until it sings, in whatever voice you’ve got. So, in short, there are no best places. There are only best practices. The best place to visit is your curious mind.
What motivates you to write?
My motivation surfaces by paying attention. I pay attention and some idea lodges itself, and I feel compelled to keep working at it until it doesn’t send out its siren call and leaves me in peace. The research on flow state pioneered by Hungarian American psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi addresses flow being the sweet spot between challenge and skill where you get lost in the work or the moment or whatever pulls you in. Writing poetry is that flow activity for me. Hours can go by and still I sit, puttering away at my computer, polishing and refining and making it sing.
What are the major benefits of being a writer?
For me, it is the ability to wrestle the idea, the experience or the monster to the ground. Nothing is ever completely over if you are a writer. You can reimagine it; you can slay the dragon; you can take a vacation experience and expand (or maybe even distort) it beyond what a flat photograph pretends to depict. You are a world builder. Much of my poetry is narrative so I tell stories but sometimes it is just a moment that I focus on and then the process feels more like painting or reanimation of a scene or a moment with language. It can be frustrating and challenging but it is also just good old-fashioned fun.
Christine Harapiak used to write constantly to make sense of her world as a teen and a young woman. Then she went to law school and her poetry went dormant – for 25 years. Since retiring from her judicial career she has picked up her pen again and is finding inspiration everywhere she goes. She is an unapologetic literary vampire now, liable to steal your family stories while you sleep. Speak quietly. She’s probably listening.