PAUL MULLEN, AUTHOR OF DISINTEGRATION
The Light Bulb is an interview series by The Lumiere Review. We’ve interviewed several authors of chapbooks to shed some light on the process of finding inspiration, drafting, revising, and publishing a chapbook. We believe in amplifying a diverse range of writers in the ever-expanding literary scene through this series. For writers who have their eyes set on publishing a chapbook, we hope that these conversations can bring you one step closer to a completed manuscript or a home with a press.
This time round, we have Paul Mullen, author of “disintegration” (Animal Heart Press, 2020). Support Paul and his work by ordering a copy here.
I. MOTIVATION
First thing’s first, what got you motivated to write your most recent chapbook, disintegration?
I’m constantly writing, so it wasn’t like I intentionally sat down to write a chapbook, but I soon realised that I had a body of work that had sprung from the same well of inspiration. I think the most remarkable thing about disintegration is that I wrote the whole think in a 48-hour period. I have periods like that…then other periods when I can’t squeeze a single sentence out.
Could you elaborate on the themes, arcs, and/or journeys that define disintegration?
The title, disintegration, is not intending to be deliberately misleading. The themes in here certainly include the idea that things fall apart, and there is a lot of nostalgia and reflection involved. there is no particular focus – disintegration here could refer to relationships, your career, your mental health, your lust and ambition. There is, however, one theme that I’m very keen to promote, which is life after things have fallen apart – the notion of hope and rebirth, I guess.
What keeps you going when you lose the willpower to continue writing and drafting?
I just go and do something else. I’m very sensitive to the muse, so I don’t force anything these days. I just wait patiently for that willpower to return – which it will – and pick up a guitar, or indulge myself in reading or listening to records instead. To this day I have absolutely no idea why that buzz returns and forces me to write again, but it does, and it comes from the least likely places and in the least likely situations. Sometimes I feel like I’m never going to write a word ever again, but I know better than that now. I know it’s just a case of waiting, whether that be days, weeks or months.
II. EXECUTION
Tell us about the way you sequenced the poems in your chapbook. What are some tips on finding a satisfactory order?
I’m no expert on this. All of my work is sequenced by nothing more than a gut feeling. It’s often unexplainable. Things just feel like they fit naturally. I think when you put a chapbook together you have to be conscious of what you choose as your opening poem, and also your closing poem because they are your most powerful weapons – the first impression and the closing impression.
What’s your writing process like?
Sporadic, erratic, totally organic. When it happens I get my head down to it. When it doesn’t I don’t spend time at the desk anymore. I’m not one for sitting down and forcing myself to write, or setting aside designated times to sit and write. I always carry a notebook, so if anything comes across me as a worthy idea, I’ll prioritise finishing it.
Do different poems play separate roles in your chapbook? Do they drive the storyline, serve as transitions, or converse directly with the audience?
There is no storyline here as such; more just snippets and memories and observations and situations. I think the opening poems such as images, dreamcave and lament are relatively abstract, which position the reader to do the work. I like my work to be relatable, but to show rather than tell. I’m a huge believer in the reader taking control of meaning – that shows that the poem is multisensory in a way. Poems such as days and after school are less conceptual, and document a moment in time, which I also think can be very powerful if you get it right. American writer, Cathleen Miller, said in her blurb for the chapbook: “His style is fractured, like the narratives running throughout, offering more implications than definitions.” I was very proud of that – not just because of her stature in the writing world, but because I aim for that entirely – to offer more implications than definitions.
I wouldn’t say I converse with an audience directly, but I like to offer cinematic representations of situations that they may have been in, or witnessed. In that sense I think there is active audience engagement, without direct reference or an overt quest to involve them.
III. REVISION
Writing’s one thing, but editing is a whole other domain. Once the first draft is complete, what are some suggestions on transitioning into revision?
Leave it alone for a while. Maybe a week. Revisit it with a fresh and revitalised perspective. Don’t dwell on it too much because that old expression is so true – you can’t see the woods for the trees in the end. I’ve also ended up enlisting help with editing from other sets of eyes – poets like Kate Evans and Alan Parry, particularly. Kate is an old work colleague from when I worked in China, and Alan the co-editor & co-founder of my poetry, art and photography journal, The Broken Spine Artist Collective.
Could you share what your revision routine/process is like? (appreciate details!)
I’m a big believer in the organic process. Editing is essential to strip unnecessary flesh from bone, but over editing can be detrimental. I’ll write a poem, then edit directly afterwards. then I’ll leave it for a while and revisit, as mentioned in one of your earlier questions. I don’t think it’s healthy for the poem to be overly crafted because then it pulls away from that original intent or emotion. I think the main craft is tidying up language choices and getting the lines to feel natural.
How do you know when you’re ready to move on from editing to publishing?
Again, this is a very natural, gut feeling. For me, a poem just feels finished. If there is further clarification from a second set of eyes that it is in good shape, I’m pretty brave about submitting it to a magazine or journal. I have no apprehension about getting it out there and seeing what the reaction is. The world of submitting is an odd one; I’ve had poems in the past that I’ve rated highly that never get picked up, and others that I’m not sure about that get snapped up immediately. There’s nothing like perception and taste, haha!
IV. PUBLICATION
Where can we start when looking for chapbook presses?
I think Twitter is a great tool for discovering the different opportunities with presses. It can be a bit of a never ending rabbit hole, but once you become familiar with the movers and shakers in the poetry community, regular updates on competitions and submission opportunities are never far away. I’d encourage anybody reading this to add and engage with my own Twitter page for such updates: @mushyprm35
Also, the following presses are great for updates and generally getting to know the community:
@BrokenSpineArts
@PressAnimal
@nightandsparrow
@blackboughpoems
@fly_press
Do you have any words of advice on submitting manuscripts to these presses?
Always make sure that your document is proofed, structurally sound and easy to navigate. As an editor myself, if a submission was messy and literally all over the place I wouldn’t even read it. Presentation is the first hurdle. Also, include a contents page, and a brief letter explaining your objectives with the chapbook. An editor doesn’t want an essay or your life story – just an overview of your themes and what you hope to achieve with it. It’s also advisable to show some publishing history too…very few manuscripts will get picked up if nothing from it has been previously published in magazines, e-zines, journals or anthologies. I always aim for about 25% of the poems to have been published elsewhere – this shows you have a readership, and that your name is out there in the mix.
Following an acceptance from a press, what are the next steps?
Go have a drink and wait on the editor’s instructions!
BIO
Interviewed by Jessica Kim.