10 Questions for Christine Kitano
- By Abby MacGregor
From To Kill a Mockingbird, I learn the word “chifforobe.” My grandmother has a lacquer chest, a chifforobe, in her bedroom. She claims it is the only object she brought with her from Korea. —from “Heirloom”, Winter 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 4)
Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.
When I was around five or six, I wrote a story about a family eating rice-balls. One family member would add more rice to a rice-ball and pass it to the person next to them. The rice-ball grew infinitely as it made its passage around and around the table. I remember not knowing how to end the story, a problem I still encounter daily in my work as a writer.
What writer(s) or works have influenced the way you write now?
I find influence in everything I read, but recently I’ve been returning to poems by Dana Levin, Gary Young, and Sandra Lim. I’m also writing more nonfiction prose, influenced by Paisley Rekdal, Susan Sontag, and Maggie Nelson. Whenever I feel stuck, I read Eavan Boland.
What other professions have you worked in?
I’m lucky to have spent most of my working life in academia. Outside of teaching, waitressing and steaming milk for cappuccinos comprise my marketable skills.
What inspired you to write this piece?
I’ve been writing daily, which is a new habit for me, and in doing so, I notice that I keep circling back to the same subjects. One of these subjects is inheritance, and the various ways we can view inheritance. For example, my grandmother is a gambler, and I always thought I didn’t inherit this from her. But as I keep writing, I see I did inherit a tendency toward addiction, obsession, and faith. This has been genuinely surprising, and I continue to write toward this discovery. This poem is part of that project.
Is there any specific music that aids you through the writing or editing process?
I don’t listen to music when I write or read; I prefer silence. But when editing, sometimes music can help me think through a tough spot. In these moments, I’ll listen to Bach, which feels like stepping into sunlight and taking a breath of fresh, mountain air. Sometimes it’s enough to restart the thinking process.
Do you have any rituals or traditions that you do in order to write?
My writing ritual is pretty simple. I try to begin every work day with 30 minutes of writing. I start writing within 5-10 minutes of arriving at the office. I put down my bags, make a cup of tea, and set my timer. During that time, I prioritize writing. If I can’t write, then I read, but I’m not allowed to do any other work. 30 minutes a day doesn’t sound like much, but I write more this way than I have in the past, when I would try to block out days or weeks just for writing.
Who typically gets the first read of your work?
My partner is also a poet, so he generally serves as my first reader. I also try out new work at poetry readings.
If you could work in another art form what would it be?
I park by the art studio on campus and pass by its windows on my way to my office. Painting looks like so much more fun than writing! I’d also love to work in sculpture. Instagram filters allow me the delusion that I could be a photographer. Of course, I also dreamed of being a musician. That being said, I am most at ease being a writer. I can focus for hours, days, or even years on a writing project. I have never been able to bring that same level of focus to anything else.
What are you working on currently?
My next collection, which looks to be shaping itself into a prose/poetry hybrid. I’m circling the idea of inheritance, which also encompasses ideas of land, ownership, and trauma. I’m obsessing over the idea that we can’t choose what gets passed on to future generations, that we can’t choose what we inherit from previous ones. It’s a loose, baggy monster right now, and I’m still working to find the threads of the argument.
What are you reading right now?
I recently finished two memoirs, All You Can Ever Know by Nicole Chung, and Air Traffic by Gregory Pardlo. I just started Alexander Chee’s How to Write an Autobiographical Novel and Brandon Shimoda’s The Desert. Next up on the reading list is We Sinners by Hanna Pylväinen. And I’m eagerly anticipating the publication of Lee Ann Roripaugh’s new collection, tsunami vs. the fukushima 50.
CHRISTINE KITANO is the author of the poetry collections Sky Country and Birds of Paradise. She teaches poetry and Asian American literature at Ithaca College.
