What draws you to writing? Are there particular themes or questions you find yourself returning to in your own work?
The printed word draws me in. Words on paper have a presence impossible to ignore. Destinies are determined by printed military orders or university tests or the daily news. Or poetry. I look to find meaning in what I see, think, feel. Dare I write something that others want to read?
You know, I had three young children by the time I reached age twenty-five. They’re the best things that ever happened to me. I loved to cuddle with them to read rhymes together. “Who has seen the wind?” “Little Miss Muffet”. “The Knave of Hearts”. “This little pig went to market …”
A poet once wrote, “The world is so full of a number of things; I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings.” I always picture a mother saying that to her quarreling children. If I can write something as ironic as that, I’d be pleased.
What made you decide to sign up for your first class at The Writing Salon? And what keeps you coming back?
I signed up for my first class at The Writing Salon because I needed the discipline of a class & liked their absence of pretentiousness & their accepting, welcoming atmosphere in which people listen to each other.
You became a Writing Salon member this year. Has your sense of yourself as a writer changed since you became part of this community? In what ways?
My sense of myself as a writer is always changing! Writing Salon classes have developed in me an identity as a writer of nonsense poems. Best of all, I’m probably not going to attract a ton of criticism for being lighthearted & nonsensical. After all, readers want to feel amused, to see the humor in something. Classmates have gently helped me by pointing out little inconsistencies or asking me to elaborate or by laughing in the hoped-for spots! That’s all I need.
I definitely want to celebrate absurdity in everyday life, & believe me, there’s enough to go around. Allen Ginsberg was one of my writing teachers at the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics, & he always spoke to us about noticing ordinary amazing things that happen all around us, things we may have been too bored or self-absorbed to notice, things that we thought didn’t even count, things that others may have told us aren’t worth anything.
What kinds of writing are you doing right now? Do you have a piece or a project that you’re especially proud of or excited about?
My friend Sam Kieke motivates me to write a sort of stream of consciousness journal, in which I go on about themes such as ‘people who compete for my attention’ or ‘annoying things’ or ‘things I didn’t say but I will now’. I won’t say more than that because I don’t want to jinx or dissipate my writing energy by talking too much about it.
If you’ll excuse me, I have to get writing. Thank you for inviting me for an interview–I’m glad you think I have something to say.
I (Roberta Lawrinsky) was born into an Army family & rumors constantly flew, whispering where & when our orders would take us &, sure as shooting, it was our destiny to be uprooted & somehow arrive to the next hotspot. It’s from a sense of peril that, to this day, I often feel either very scared or very bold. I mediate these feelings by picking up pen & paper & observing what’s going on around me. The more I look the more I see.
Anne M. Breedlove is the sixth of ten children born and raised in Albany, New York. Visiting San Francisco during a 1972 cross-country road trip, she decided to stay, spending the next 30 years juggling two careers, graphic arts and academia, teaching American and European history in East Bay community colleges. After retiring in 2008 she spent eight years traveling the world with her husband by loaded bicycle, 21 countries, approximately 30,000 miles. She now happily juggles her time between art, bicycling, all things French, gardening, grandchildren, hot yoga, lap-swimming, printmaking, sewing, walking, and writing, but not necessarily in that order.