An Interview With Poet Marty McConnell
BY STEVIE EDWARDS, Editor in Chief
How and when did you first get into slam poetry?
I was first exposed to the slam in the late 90s when I was living in Chicago, but I didn't start actually slamming until I moved to New York in 1999 and started regularly attending the series at Bar 13 which eventually became the louderARTS Project. Back then, the open mic filled up more quickly than the slam list and since I was coming in from Bronxville, I often didn't make it in time to sign up for anything but the slam. Or at least that's what Guy, the host, told me... I still suspect it was a bit of a trick to get new people into the competition, which worked!
Basically I would show up and perform whatever I would have read in the open mic, which kept me from worrying too much about the competition. I'd attended the 1998 and 1999 Nationals as an observer, so when I made the team in 2000 I knew what was involved on some level, though it was my first time competing.
For you, what's been the hardest part of slam poetry?
I'd say that right now, the hardest part is knowing when not to slam. Once you are part of the slam community, I feel that there's a certain kind of pressure, be it internal or external, to compete anytime you have the opportunity to do so. And I think it's important to be able to pause, to say when it's appropriate, when it's a good idea to have your poems publicly scored. I feel this particularly acutely now that I've returned to writing more autobiographical or at least less persona-based work.
What's been the best part?
There is a way in which the specific pressure of being judged on one poem in three minutes can incite a level of performance like no other. This is not exclusive to slam of course, but knowing that the fate of your night or your team rests in the hands of three to five random people is a bizarre kind of adrenaline boost that has helped me unlock new kinds of performance and understand things about my poems that I don't think I would have discovered any other way. In addition, the amazing family, the astonishing community that exists nationally around the slam, is unrivalled in any other portion of my life.
What prompted the move from New York back to Chicago?
New York City is a place like no other, and I love it. But I believe that in order to live there and stay sane, you have to believe that it is the only place in the world that you could possibly live. Once you stop feeling that, to stay is madness.
Can you tell me a little about the mission of Vox Ferus? How did it get started?
The mission of Vox Ferus is to connect and strengthen individuals and communities through the written and spoken word. It has had so many permutations, it's hard to say exactly where it started, but I've always wanted to run an arts organization where any personal artistic success I have benefits the organization as well. Initially, I conceived of it as a version of Cave Canem that would focus on female and female-identified poets, and then it evolved from there.
Where do you see Vox Ferus going in the next few years?
That's a good question. Right now I'm focusing on the organization's core competency, which is connecting individuals and building community through poetry, specifically through the medium of the live, interactive poetry workshop. The questions of whether Vox Ferus will be a nonprofit or a charitable for-profit, whether it will remain Chicago-centric or expand its reach, how it will grow and what comes next—all of those are up in the air right now. What I do know is that the Vox Ferus After Dark workshops will continue, that I'll be collaborating with other organizations in strategic ways, and that Vox Ferus will continue to stick to its tenets of joy, receptivity, curiosity, and rigor.
I think a lot of poets in and outside of Chicago are a little confused about the house that was formerly known as Vox Ferus. What happened there?
The artists in residence program was established as a pilot project under Vox Ferus, and it became apparent at some point that an artists' residency was far too ambitious a project to run right at an organization's inception with no paid staff or budget. It's really wonderful that the artists have formed the Real Talk Collective and are carrying out together the work that they found most important out of their time in the residency.
How is Vox Ferus different than the louderARTS project in New York, besides the physical location?
There are many similarities, and that’s intentional. One basic difference aside from location is the sort of "flagship" effort, the project that sits at the center of organizational efforts. For louderARTS, the reading series is that thing, the thing without which it would cease to really be louderARTS. For Vox Ferus, it is the workshop series. And while louderARTS also runs workshops and Vox Verus also runs performances, there is an essential distinction between our approaches based on that central project.
I like to think of Vox Ferus and louderARTS as sister organizations. Having been involved with louderARTS almost from the beginning, I'm really aware of it as an organization that evolved very organically based on the emerging interests and needs of the community, though of course its direction has been dictated to some degree by the people who've taken on leadership roles. I hope the same kind of growth can occur with and for Vox Ferus.
Are there any other projects you're working on that people should know about?
In November and December of this year, I'm producing "Calisthenics for Shrapnel," a two- weekend festival offering audiences and performers the opportunity to "work it out" over two sets of volatile and enmeshed issues: gender and sexuality, and race and class. Dorothy Allison, who wrote “Bastard Out of Carolina” and is a wonderful poet as well, is headlining the November event!
Who are the poets you go back to when you're stuck?
Anne Sexton, Li-Young Lee, Adrienne Rich, and Richard Siken. Also Marie Howe, Stephen Dunn, Dorothy Barresi, and Yusef Komunyakaa for endings, which I struggle with particularly.
What is your favorite writing prompt?
(stanza 1) tell us what you are not (stanza 2) say where the light comes from (stanza 3) give three details about the hardest year of your life (stanza 4) tell a lie about who you are (stanza 5) tell us something you remember involving light (stanza 6) share a good memory (stanza 7) admit to the lie (stanza 8) describe an object that exemplifies who/what you are.
You're a slam poet, and you're also pretty well published in literary journals. Do you think being known as a slam poet has ever been an obstacle to your publication success?
I don't think that it has been an obstacle, but I can't really say for sure. I've never had an editor tell me that they won't publish me because of my slam background, but honestly I doubt most editors know who's who in the slam community and it's not something I tout in cover letters to magazines; I have a literary bio and a performance bio, not to hide anything, but because different things are important to different people. I think the biggest obstacle to my publication success is probably my uneven commitment to pursuing it—in that way, slam may have been more an obstacle as a distraction and time investment, more so than a barrier due to any kind of discrimination.
What advice would you give to poets trying to break into the publishing world?
Be patient. Be persistent. Understand that rejection is part of the game. Seek out colleagues with goals similar to yours so that you are not so alone in suffering or in celebration.
What was your experience like in the MFA program at Sarah Lawrence?
Fantastic. I had never even taken a poetry class, and here I was surrounded by people who just wanted to talk about poetry all day, every day. I consider myself so lucky to have been there at that time with teachers who were open to the fact that despite my performance background, I wanted very much to learn about poetry on the page in that environment. They were respectful across the board, interested in the performance world but willing to honor the fact that, for example, I didn't want to be the one to read my poems to the class in workshop or receive feedback along the lines of "Well, I imagine it works really well in performance..."
What are some factors poets should consider before entering an MFA program?
I think the most important thing to consider is what you want to get out of the experience. I didn't know much going into my program, but I did know that mostly I wanted to write, and write better. Which sounds really basic, but it led me to apply to programs that, for example, had a creative thesis rather than an academic one.
Cost is obviously a factor—some schools have great financial support, some not so much. I will be paying off my Sarah Lawrence tuition for the rest of my natural life. That may not be the right choice for everyone.
Now that there are so many great low-residency programs, that's definitely a question to consider. I loved the immersion in poetry I got by being at SLC full-time, but it's a huge investment of time and money. I don't know what kind of impact it would have had on my life if I'd been trying to split my time and energy between off-campus work and being a grad student; it's definitely an indulgence to separate from the secular world for two or so years and submerge yourself in poetry, but for me I think it was necessary.
What do you do when you're not writing poetry, performing, or running workshops?
Sleep! Well, that and work. I'm the director of resource development at Alternatives, a youth and family center in Uptown, and that keeps me pretty busy. Also, my partner insists that I do the dishes at least some of the time, and make the bed occasionally.
MARTY MCCONNELL'S work has been published in numerous anthologies and journals including Salt Hill Review, Rattle, Rattapallax, Fourteen Hills, Thirteenth Moon, Boxcar Poetry Review, Pedestal, The November 3rd Club, 2River View, Lodestar Quarterly, and Blue Fifth Review. She received her MFA from Sarah Lawrence College and has been invited to read at numerous literary festivals including the Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival, Connecticut Poetry Festival, and the Palm Beach Poetry Festival. After ten years in New York City, during which she co-founded the literary nonprofit the louderARTS Project and co-curated its renowned reading series, she returned to her hometown of Chicago to establish its sister organization, Vox Ferus.
STEVIE EDWARDS spent her formative years in Lansing, MI, and currently lives and works in Chicago, IL. She is currently working on her first collection of poetry (tentatively titled Good Grief). Her work has appeared in several literary journals, including Word Riot, PANK Magazine, and Monkeybicycle. She completed her BA at Albion College (a liberal arts school in Michigan) in 2009, where she worked as Poetry & Fiction Editor for the Albion Review. She plans to pursue an MFA in creative writing sometime in the not-too-distant future. She is doing pretty okay for 23 most days.
How and when did you first get into slam poetry?
I was first exposed to the slam in the late 90s when I was living in Chicago, but I didn't start actually slamming until I moved to New York in 1999 and started regularly attending the series at Bar 13 which eventually became the louderARTS Project. Back then, the open mic filled up more quickly than the slam list and since I was coming in from Bronxville, I often didn't make it in time to sign up for anything but the slam. Or at least that's what Guy, the host, told me... I still suspect it was a bit of a trick to get new people into the competition, which worked!
Basically I would show up and perform whatever I would have read in the open mic, which kept me from worrying too much about the competition. I'd attended the 1998 and 1999 Nationals as an observer, so when I made the team in 2000 I knew what was involved on some level, though it was my first time competing.
For you, what's been the hardest part of slam poetry?
I'd say that right now, the hardest part is knowing when not to slam. Once you are part of the slam community, I feel that there's a certain kind of pressure, be it internal or external, to compete anytime you have the opportunity to do so. And I think it's important to be able to pause, to say when it's appropriate, when it's a good idea to have your poems publicly scored. I feel this particularly acutely now that I've returned to writing more autobiographical or at least less persona-based work.
What's been the best part?
There is a way in which the specific pressure of being judged on one poem in three minutes can incite a level of performance like no other. This is not exclusive to slam of course, but knowing that the fate of your night or your team rests in the hands of three to five random people is a bizarre kind of adrenaline boost that has helped me unlock new kinds of performance and understand things about my poems that I don't think I would have discovered any other way. In addition, the amazing family, the astonishing community that exists nationally around the slam, is unrivalled in any other portion of my life.
What prompted the move from New York back to Chicago?
New York City is a place like no other, and I love it. But I believe that in order to live there and stay sane, you have to believe that it is the only place in the world that you could possibly live. Once you stop feeling that, to stay is madness.
Can you tell me a little about the mission of Vox Ferus? How did it get started?
The mission of Vox Ferus is to connect and strengthen individuals and communities through the written and spoken word. It has had so many permutations, it's hard to say exactly where it started, but I've always wanted to run an arts organization where any personal artistic success I have benefits the organization as well. Initially, I conceived of it as a version of Cave Canem that would focus on female and female-identified poets, and then it evolved from there.
Where do you see Vox Ferus going in the next few years?
That's a good question. Right now I'm focusing on the organization's core competency, which is connecting individuals and building community through poetry, specifically through the medium of the live, interactive poetry workshop. The questions of whether Vox Ferus will be a nonprofit or a charitable for-profit, whether it will remain Chicago-centric or expand its reach, how it will grow and what comes next—all of those are up in the air right now. What I do know is that the Vox Ferus After Dark workshops will continue, that I'll be collaborating with other organizations in strategic ways, and that Vox Ferus will continue to stick to its tenets of joy, receptivity, curiosity, and rigor.
I think a lot of poets in and outside of Chicago are a little confused about the house that was formerly known as Vox Ferus. What happened there?
The artists in residence program was established as a pilot project under Vox Ferus, and it became apparent at some point that an artists' residency was far too ambitious a project to run right at an organization's inception with no paid staff or budget. It's really wonderful that the artists have formed the Real Talk Collective and are carrying out together the work that they found most important out of their time in the residency.
How is Vox Ferus different than the louderARTS project in New York, besides the physical location?
There are many similarities, and that’s intentional. One basic difference aside from location is the sort of "flagship" effort, the project that sits at the center of organizational efforts. For louderARTS, the reading series is that thing, the thing without which it would cease to really be louderARTS. For Vox Ferus, it is the workshop series. And while louderARTS also runs workshops and Vox Verus also runs performances, there is an essential distinction between our approaches based on that central project.
I like to think of Vox Ferus and louderARTS as sister organizations. Having been involved with louderARTS almost from the beginning, I'm really aware of it as an organization that evolved very organically based on the emerging interests and needs of the community, though of course its direction has been dictated to some degree by the people who've taken on leadership roles. I hope the same kind of growth can occur with and for Vox Ferus.
Are there any other projects you're working on that people should know about?
In November and December of this year, I'm producing "Calisthenics for Shrapnel," a two- weekend festival offering audiences and performers the opportunity to "work it out" over two sets of volatile and enmeshed issues: gender and sexuality, and race and class. Dorothy Allison, who wrote “Bastard Out of Carolina” and is a wonderful poet as well, is headlining the November event!
Who are the poets you go back to when you're stuck?
Anne Sexton, Li-Young Lee, Adrienne Rich, and Richard Siken. Also Marie Howe, Stephen Dunn, Dorothy Barresi, and Yusef Komunyakaa for endings, which I struggle with particularly.
What is your favorite writing prompt?
(stanza 1) tell us what you are not (stanza 2) say where the light comes from (stanza 3) give three details about the hardest year of your life (stanza 4) tell a lie about who you are (stanza 5) tell us something you remember involving light (stanza 6) share a good memory (stanza 7) admit to the lie (stanza 8) describe an object that exemplifies who/what you are.
You're a slam poet, and you're also pretty well published in literary journals. Do you think being known as a slam poet has ever been an obstacle to your publication success?
I don't think that it has been an obstacle, but I can't really say for sure. I've never had an editor tell me that they won't publish me because of my slam background, but honestly I doubt most editors know who's who in the slam community and it's not something I tout in cover letters to magazines; I have a literary bio and a performance bio, not to hide anything, but because different things are important to different people. I think the biggest obstacle to my publication success is probably my uneven commitment to pursuing it—in that way, slam may have been more an obstacle as a distraction and time investment, more so than a barrier due to any kind of discrimination.
What advice would you give to poets trying to break into the publishing world?
Be patient. Be persistent. Understand that rejection is part of the game. Seek out colleagues with goals similar to yours so that you are not so alone in suffering or in celebration.
What was your experience like in the MFA program at Sarah Lawrence?
Fantastic. I had never even taken a poetry class, and here I was surrounded by people who just wanted to talk about poetry all day, every day. I consider myself so lucky to have been there at that time with teachers who were open to the fact that despite my performance background, I wanted very much to learn about poetry on the page in that environment. They were respectful across the board, interested in the performance world but willing to honor the fact that, for example, I didn't want to be the one to read my poems to the class in workshop or receive feedback along the lines of "Well, I imagine it works really well in performance..."
What are some factors poets should consider before entering an MFA program?
I think the most important thing to consider is what you want to get out of the experience. I didn't know much going into my program, but I did know that mostly I wanted to write, and write better. Which sounds really basic, but it led me to apply to programs that, for example, had a creative thesis rather than an academic one.
Cost is obviously a factor—some schools have great financial support, some not so much. I will be paying off my Sarah Lawrence tuition for the rest of my natural life. That may not be the right choice for everyone.
Now that there are so many great low-residency programs, that's definitely a question to consider. I loved the immersion in poetry I got by being at SLC full-time, but it's a huge investment of time and money. I don't know what kind of impact it would have had on my life if I'd been trying to split my time and energy between off-campus work and being a grad student; it's definitely an indulgence to separate from the secular world for two or so years and submerge yourself in poetry, but for me I think it was necessary.
What do you do when you're not writing poetry, performing, or running workshops?
Sleep! Well, that and work. I'm the director of resource development at Alternatives, a youth and family center in Uptown, and that keeps me pretty busy. Also, my partner insists that I do the dishes at least some of the time, and make the bed occasionally.
MARTY MCCONNELL'S work has been published in numerous anthologies and journals including Salt Hill Review, Rattle, Rattapallax, Fourteen Hills, Thirteenth Moon, Boxcar Poetry Review, Pedestal, The November 3rd Club, 2River View, Lodestar Quarterly, and Blue Fifth Review. She received her MFA from Sarah Lawrence College and has been invited to read at numerous literary festivals including the Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival, Connecticut Poetry Festival, and the Palm Beach Poetry Festival. After ten years in New York City, during which she co-founded the literary nonprofit the louderARTS Project and co-curated its renowned reading series, she returned to her hometown of Chicago to establish its sister organization, Vox Ferus.
STEVIE EDWARDS spent her formative years in Lansing, MI, and currently lives and works in Chicago, IL. She is currently working on her first collection of poetry (tentatively titled Good Grief). Her work has appeared in several literary journals, including Word Riot, PANK Magazine, and Monkeybicycle. She completed her BA at Albion College (a liberal arts school in Michigan) in 2009, where she worked as Poetry & Fiction Editor for the Albion Review. She plans to pursue an MFA in creative writing sometime in the not-too-distant future. She is doing pretty okay for 23 most days.