Writers’ Advocate: Jazzy Danziger
Writers’ advocate, Jazzy Danziger is the author of Darkroom (University of Wisconsin Press, 2012), winner of the Brittingham Prize in Poetry, and has served as series editor for Best New Poets since 2011. She lives and works in St. Louis, Missouri.
Phillip: Thank you for agreeing to do this! I am excited to speak with you this cold, cold morning. It’s been freezing all over the country but this is just a minor discomfort. Please, let’s begin with an origin story. When did you know you wanted to be a part of the writing life? When did you realize you were a poet?
Jazzy: Yes, we’re preparing for six to ten inches of snow here in St. Louis! Still strange for me, since I grew up in Orlando. It’s a place with a surprisingly robust literary scene that was somewhat elusive to me growing up. I didn’t understand that poetry was a modern-day pursuit until someone handed a Rita Dove poem to me in high school. I’d always written poetry – very juvenile poems, very sweet, the kinds of things you write to please your parents. But I didn’t have the resources I needed to grow as a poet until college, when I took an intro to poetry class for fun, and suddenly, in my hands, I had Frank Bidart and Elizabeth Bishop and, yes, more Rita Dove, and I was given permission to be weird and wild, and to write something not quite suitable for the refrigerator door. I suppose I realized I was a poet the first time I wrote something that surprised me. I understood then that writing wasn’t about recording, but about discovering.
P: “I understood then that writing wasn’t about recording, but about discovering.” What an amazing statement! I think this is what I look forward to when reading poetry, to learn something from a person who is also trying to figure things out.
Flash forward to Darkroom, how long had you been working on your debut collection before it was picked up and what was it like receiving the news that you’d won the Brittingham Prize? What other prizes or, rather, how many others did you submit to?
J: I’m sure this is true for many other writers coming off of their first book, but when I think about Darkroom’s beginnings, it’s funny to say, “I started working on the collection…” because, of course, it began as single poems, just disjointed things, little experiments. And even toward the “end,” as it hit that minimum collection length, I still had fears that it wouldn’t come together as a cohesive piece. The earliest poems in the book were written in 2005, seven years before the book arrived on shelves. The newest poems in the book were written in 2010. So there are five-year gaps between some of these poems, and yet, the obsessions they’re collectively tackling burned as hot in 2005 as they did in 2010. So the book did come together, and it still feels true to me now, five years after its completion.
I began submitting it for contests in the summer of 2010, after graduating from UVA’s creative writing program and moving back to St. Louis from Charlottesville. I believe I submitted to five book contests simultaneously to start, and to one small press who took unsolicited submissions at that time. I remember the stacks of envelopes on the floor of my bedroom. I kissed every single one for good luck. There was so much superstition. And then, miraculously, that December I received a voicemail from Ron Wallace at the University of Wisconsin Press letting me know that I’d won the Brittingham. I was sitting in my cubicle. I thought perhaps I was imagining things. Being in that very sterile office and then receiving this phone call, which seemed to be the universe saying, “Okay, yes, you’re really a poet now” – it was too strange to be real.
I’m still grateful and in disbelief that it happened so quickly after the completion of the manuscript. I loved my manuscript and believed so strongly in it, but, as we all know, the odds are against even the best of us. There is so much beautiful poetry in the world right now. It’s a great time to be a reader and a bittersweet time to be a writer.
P: And now you get to send emails of good news to younger writers who are fighting to have their voices heard through all of the beauty. And I say “now” meaning today as with last year and the year before and years before that! Please share with us how you got started with Best New Poets.
J: You know, that week in August when I send emails to the accepted poets is the happiest week of my entire year, every year. Greater than any personal triumph. I don’t know how we do it, but we manage to publish the most talented, gracious people I’ve ever met in this community. I don’t mind sharing that I was the lucky reader who happened to come across “Do-Rag” in our submission system last summer – though, of course, I didn’t know it was yours at the time, because we read blind – and it was one of those poems where, as a reader, you say, “Please, please, let the guest editor see everything that I see in this.” So when that final 50 list came back and “Do-Rag” was on it, I was over the moon.
Best New Poets began at the University of Virginia in 2005 when Jeb Livingood, a member of the creative writing faculty, recognized that there was a need for it. There weren’t as many outlets for emerging poets back then – I’m glad to see that that’s changed – and he believed that there was a place on shelves for a beautiful book that celebrated writers who didn’t have books of their own yet, as well as the literary journals and writing programs that support them. At UVA I took Jeb’s literary editing course, where I learned the tools and developed all of the skills I use now to build the book – how to properly copy edit poetry (a fascinating topic, by the way), printing terminology, InDesign, etc. I was invited to become a reader in 2009, which was my first glimpse at the behind-the-scenes process. During this time I was also serving as the editor of Meridian, the MFA program’s lit journal, and which I now think of as “Best New Poets-lite.” That was an immensely challenging job, but it was necessary preparation for the much bigger job ahead. In 2010, after I’d graduated, Jeb asked me if I’d like to take over the series starting with the 2011 edition. I said yes. I dove right in. The first year was rough, even though the end product was spectacular. Five years later, it feels like home.
Any time I feel the urge to become cynical about poetry or the poetry scene, I turn to BNP. BNP is nothing but hope. For me, it represents everything that’s good about our community and our work.
P: That’s powerful. I think it is so easy to lose faith in poetry nowadays when there are more debates about the purpose and importance of poetry written by those who obviously don’t have a finger on the pulse of poetry. I see BNP as a way to let those who are living their early careers out as poets do the talking.
What would you say is the power of the younger generation’s poetry? What do you see in newer voices that gives you so much hope and do you think this is a trend that has only gotten more potent as the years pass?
J: They are fearless. There’s less posturing, less imitation. The poets I remember from our submission pool, the poets whose work sticks with me, their work is not interested in saying the safe, beautiful, simple thing, the thing that is easier to praise and discuss. The new voices we’re seeing are grappling with big issues, but they don’t shy away from the personal. I really do think that’s brave for a generation that’s so often accused of narcissism. To say, yes, I will write about myself. I will write about personal experience. I will not be ashamed. I will not be afraid. I can show you something new in my story. I can illuminate the cruelty of the world in this way.
I also think we’re seeing a more generous and selfless set of voices. The way new poets hold up the work of peers whose voices have traditionally been silenced or ignored. This is noticeable.
P: There does seem to be a family feel, where someone posts the poem of someone around their age and it just happens all around. I’m not sure I’m old enough to say this is unprecedented but the internet does make t easier to share and I’m happy for it.
There was a brief “situation” that happened on Twitter some time last year. Really cruel posts were made about the “Worse Poets”, where poems were jokingly or seriously posted and described as poorly written. The idea of how one defines “Best”, or gets the right to, seems to bother some people. What is the truth behind the word “best” as you see it and why do you think some people get so riled up over the word, over anthologies that just want to make a space?
J: Someone tweeted at me a few months ago that “Best New Poets” was an inaccurate name for the collection, because “best” is subjective, and because it conflates the poem with the poet. I responded, “Well, I’m all for accurate names, but, unfortunately, ‘Poetry’ is taken.”
This is publishing. You choose a snappy name because it looks great on the shelf and because it’s aspirational. Does BNP literally find the 50 best new poets every year? I don’t know. Probably not. Who’s to say? Does BNP publish 50 damn good poets every year? Yes. And I think anyone who sees the title understands that.
On the other hand, if you’re one of the poets whose work doesn’t make it in, I see how that “best” on the cover can hurt, even when you know it’s subjective.
I do want to talk about our aversion to criticism within this community, though. The Twitter example you mentioned is more cruelty than criticism, but it’s still relevant to the question. I think every serious artistic discipline must have critics within its borders. And I mean real critics, critics who aren’t afraid to call a spade a spade. Poetry doesn’t have many of those people (or, rather, it doesn’t have many of these people willing to do this work publicly), and I think it’s because there’s a “we’re all in this together” mentality that’s beautiful, but possibly a barrier. I think we’re afraid to call out weak work because we feel that it gives poetry outsiders another reason to dismiss the genre as a whole. I’m interested in that balance. How do we evolve, how do we push poetry forward, if we’re afraid to criticize? How do we nurture people within this community and still make sure we’re identifying problems?
P: Jazzy, I cannot thank you enough for your generosity in answering these questions. It is important that we talk about the environment of our world as writers. I also wanted to make sure we get the voice of someone who is totally invested in ushering in a new set of poets year after year. If people want to learn more about Best New Poets where should they look? How can people learn more about your book Darkroom?
J: You can learn more about Best New Poets at bestnewpoets.org. 2014 is on shelves now, and we’ll be debuting the cover art for 2015 next month. Tracy K. Smith is our guest editor this year, and submissions will open on April 5. You can learn more about Darkroom on my website, jazzydanziger.com.
Thank you again, Phillip, for the excellent questions.
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