An Interview with Kory and Kelsey Wells
The titles of quite a few of your poems have a Southern, homey vibe to them. How do you come up with your titles?
Titles are important to me. When I remember that stanza is Italian for room, this reminds me that the poem is a house. Some houses have quite limited space, and we all know real estate is expensive, so the title is a valuable piece of real estate that I want to utilize. Perhaps the title is a cozy front porch, inviting the reader into the poem. Perhaps it functions more like a fantastic back porch, a discovery the reader makes after touring the entire house — oh, here’s the best part. Or perhaps the title functions not so much as a porch but as a bit of curb appeal, making the reader think, sure I might like to peek in that house.
As you noted, I like titles that set a tone or voice for the poem, or that provide a bit more information than what’s in the poem itself. Sometimes I arrive at a title by moving a phrase from the poem to the title in the revision process. Other times I think of why I’m writing the poem, or what else the speaker in the poem might want to say, and that somehow informs the title. Occasionally I use or am informed by a favorite phrase from another writer or song.
Although you write more than poetry, poetry seems to be a big passion of yours. What draws you to poetry?
As a reader, I’m drawn to poetry for the discovery and delight I can experience in such a compact space. In 10 or 20 or 40 lines, a well-crafted poem can transport me to an entire world that expands my empathy and understanding. As a writer who, like most writers, had a “day job” for many years, being able to work on a single poem at a time has a certain practical appeal. I may not have the time or head space to write or (especially) revise an entire novel, but I can work on something equally meaningful to me, one page at a time.
What is your writing process?
My process has changed some over the years, but I mostly write first in longhand, in journals. I try not to censure what I write about, so sometimes what’s in my journal is more like a diary entry. Other times I draft a poem or capture some character’s voice that I’m hearing. In the past, as soon as I thought I had a poem, I’d go ahead and type it up and start revising. Now I’m more likely to keep at my journal; in a few weeks or months I go back and find the “gems” that I want to work on further.
I also keep a small notebook with me all the time, or put notes in my phone, for little thoughts to incorporate into a poem. And I keep one long document file of interesting quotes or facts to weave into poems. Those are fun to look through later and see how they may fit with work I have underway.
Do other writers inspire or influence you?
Always! Every good writer inspires me. As for influence, it won’t surprise you that Southern and Appalachian writers like Lee Smith, Clyde Edgerton, and Jill McCorkle are, for me, iconic contemporary voices that I hope my work somehow echoes. I also have a deep love for the musicality of James Weldon Johnson and the strangeness of James Dickey; for the intersection of faith and life in the writings of Wendell Berry, Dani Shapiro, and Barbara Brown Taylor. In terms of poets, I tend to take a deep dive into particular books I love, learning all I can from them. I adore Cecilia Woloch’s work, and her poetry collection Carpathia was one I turned to often as I wrote Sugar Fix. I also spent a lot of time with Bobby Rogers’ Paper Anniversary, and Vandana Khanna’s Afternoon Masala. Another source of inspiration is the amazing community of poets here in middle Tennessee and across the state, many of us linked through a common mentor, or poetry father, as we call him — Bill Brown.
What inspired your collaborations with your daughter, Kelsey?
My first poetry collection, the chapbook Heaven Was the Moon, has a strong Appalachian influence, and much of the music Kelsey plays reflects those same roots. One poem in particular, “At the Old Time Jamboree,” specifically refers to fiddle playing, so it was natural for us to to wonder about combining my words and her music to create a new experience for the listener. That was both fun to do and well-received by audiences, so that led to her crafting numerous old-time tune arrangements, and sometimes writing new tunes, to accompany many of my poems.
To go along with that, does your writing process change when you work with Kelsey? If so, how?
I’ve started a series of poems based on her suggestion, giving voice to women who often are sung about but who do not have their own voice in so many old-time tunes. I also bounce ideas or drafts off of her sometimes. And because she has turned one of my poems in to a crankie (an old storytelling art form she’ll be sharing at In Process), that’s caused me to think about some of my poems through an almost cinematic lens.
As a writer, what advice would you give to aspiring writers?
One: Read, read, read.
Two: Keep that small notebook, or the notes or recorder on your phone, always handy. When a phrase or idea pops in your head, record it immediately.
Three: Find a few fellow writers you trust for swapping critiques. Sit over coffee or tea or wine and give each other’s words kind attention. Consider the feedback you get; especially if you hear a similar comment more than once, that means your work isn’t yet accomplishing on the page what it’s doing in your head. Revise and don’t rush to publish. Publishing is nice, but the true joy for me is the creative process and the deep connection I have with my writing circle and critique partners.
Four: When you do start submitting, understand the odds, the math. There are SO MANY good writers out there. But there are also a lot of journals. This begs for an entire essay, but be strategic and patient and PERSISTENT. Understand that although you write in isolation, you revise and publish and read in community. Find your community and engage.
Kelsey, do you have any influences for your music?
I’ve been most significantly influenced by musicians I’ve had the opportunity to play with and learn from in “real life.” Some of those folks are bluegrass fiddler Becky Buller, old-time fiddlers Pete Sutherland and James Leva, and contra dance musicians Matt Turino (the Mean Lids) and Jaige Trudel (Crowfoot). I’ve also been listening to a lot of modern European folk music recently, especially the bal folk bands Naragonia, Wör, and Trio Dhoore.
