Lisa Young

There's a certain urgency to share my work as soon as I've written it. My first reader is my husband, Mike. I'm looking to see whether he thinks it works overall. He'll point out any weak spots and do a quick proofread for me too. Sometimes I read my work aloud to him in the kitchen while dinner is cooking. The work I show Mike might still be in its early stages, but it feels complete in some way – enough that I think I have something. I need to have a first reader who appreciates that it's still a work in progress. Mike and I are a team. If something's off – I'll go back and fix it up and then have him read it again. We'll go back and forth this way. A first reader should have good judgment. Is a first reader a kind of gatekeeper? I think so. They're the ones who stop you from going forward when you're headed for disaster. Who isn't a good first reader? Someone who can't articulate what's wrong with a certain phrase or...

Everyone has a different writing process. Over time, of course, some methods grow stale and new "systems" take over. Poetry I like to write first drafts of poems in the company of other poets. We read our favourite poems and then dive in and write for 45 minutes or so, and then we share what we've written. It also helps that these writing sessions take place early in the morning, before the inner critic is awake. I usually write whatever I feel attracted to write about...and I don't worry too much about the result. That comes later when I transcribe what I've written and have a look to see what material I have. Sometimes the very things that I thought were working during the writing process are flat, while other bits and pieces that I wrote that I thought weren't working become the actual material that seems to have some energy in it. In terms of editing, sometimes it doesn't work to just keep moving the original words around. I have to basicall...

Bookmark Flowers I haven't had a staycation for 9 years. A whole week at home to write was just something I hadn't been able to organize...too many other demands on my "holiday" time. But this year, it finally happened! I am at home writing a chapter a day for a novel I'm working on. What a wonderful schedule. Three meals, some chores and some writing. How great is that? Sitting on my back deck yesterday, I realized that I've turned into the kind of person I used to envy. I'd hear about writers staying up all night, eating donuts, drinking Red Bull and writing their novel and I'd think, I WISH I was writing a novel. Now I finally am. I finally know what it feels like. Except there's no Red Bull, just iced coffee, and no donuts, just the occasional nectarine. After writing a chapter, I've basically filled my quota. That leaves a lot of downtime to fill for the rest of the day, even if I do have a few errands to run etc. Suddenly, I have ...

I always thought it was ironic to combine a night of drunkenness and indulgence with making new goals/resolutions. How many times have I resolved to have a healthier lifestyle in the new year, only to wake up on the first day of that new year, hung over, exhausted and regretting all of the rich, albeit, delicious food that went along with the celebrations. New Year’s Eve is not the night to get creative and start making fancy cocktails…and yet every year I do. Because New Year’s Eve = party. And I just end up answering that call – to celebrate! I don’t even like champagne, but come New Year’s, I suddenly MUST have some. A couple of years ago, I realized that many of my friends don’t even believe in making resolutions because they never stick. I was floored by that opinion, because, of course, I realized that for the most part, they are right. But what does that say about us? Can’t we change? And if we want to make some changes, why not make them at the beginning of a n...

Well, I’m working on a poetry manuscript. It’s going along well. Just about finished the first round of editing. (I still don't have a title for the collection yet.)   You have to be very Zen when you’re editing, because there’s no rushing through the process. If something’s not working, you just have to keep searching. Sometimes it seems like I’m on a goose chase trying to track down the right word or words. And if it’s a fairly big change, you have to let it sit for a few days – to see if it’s still working when you pick it back up again. I’m not sure you can ever be 100% objective about your own work, but you can be more or less objective. What else is new? I’m all set to be a first-reader for one of my friend’s novellas – looking forward to that. Just have to print out all the pages and put aside an evening for it. There are tons of literary events going on right now: I’m excited about the Quattro Books launch on October 24. An old friend that I haven’t seen in ag...

“We do not receive wisdom, we must discover it for ourselves, after a journey through the wilderness which no one else can make for us, which no one can spare us, for our wisdom is the point of view from which we come at last to regard the world. The lives that you admire, the attitudes that seem noble to you, have not been shaped by a paterfamilias or a schoolmaster, they have sprung from very different beginnings, having been influenced by evil or commonplace that prevailed round them. They represent a struggle and a victory.” –Marcel Proust For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had nomadic tendencies: whether it was related to work, academics, or pleasure, I’ve always felt an overwhelming need for a constant change of scenery. This craving for travel has now been termed as Wanderlust. Like many others I’m sure, I’ve wanted to visit new places, experience things out of the ordinary, and learn about subject matter far out of my interests. And as of late I’ve realized ...

The launch is not too far away for my LyricalMyrical chapbook, This Cabin . Read what two fabulous poets have to say about it: This Cabin , by Lisa young, is a collection of spare and striking poems that jump right in, investigating the tension between being in the moment, and being in the mind. As the title implies, the poems are rich with specificity, detail, and the struggles between getting away and coming home. In a Rumi-esque manner, the narrator "welcomes whatever comes," be it encountering the personalities of caterpillars, or washing a small pot; be it rushing with a "mad-hatter to do list" or "seeing the sunrise / for the first time in a year." Young keeps the reader searching as well, punctuating images of the mundane with spontaneous questions, "How do you fall in step ... Without forcing something?" The reader is invited to pause with the narrator and ask, "How do I live enough ... Without scraping my knees." Young...