Lesbian writer Lesléa Newman writes in many different literary genres. She is perhaps best known for her children’s book Heather Has Two Mommies, first published in 1989, which has the distinction of being a consistently challenged and banned title.
Over time, the subject matter—lesbian moms raising a child—has become less shocking than it was more than 25 years ago, but there will always be someone there to make a fuss. A new edition of Newman’s Heather Has Two Mommies (Candlewick, 2015) was recently published and features updated artwork. Newman’s other new title releases this year is I Carry My Mother (Headmistress Press, 2015), a book-length poem.
WATERMARK: Lesléa, this interview is taking place in April, which is National Poetry Month. Did you take part in any National Poetry Month festivities?
LESLÉA NEWMAN: I have been traveling so much that the month of April is a blur (laughs). I’ve been promoting Heather… and doing events for I Carry My Mother. I have done some readings for I Carry My Mother—one for my synagogue and one for our local hospice facility.
As a poet, what does it mean to you to have a month designated for poetry?
It’s wonderful! I think it really helps spotlight the art of poetry in a way that other arts don’t receive. I don’t really remember when it started, but it’s been going on long enough that people who aren’t poets are aware of it, expect it and look for events. When I was the Poet Laureate of Northampton (Massachusetts), I really focused on April.
I blew up poems in the public domain on big posters and put them in storefronts up and down Main Street of Northampton and they were up for the entire month. One April, I ran a poetry contest—the subject was joy. That year I blew up the poems by local writers and put them in the windows. People had all sorts of great experiences such as neighbors coming up to them and saying, “I didn’t know you wrote poetry!”
I’ve also written 30 poems in 30 days during National Poetry Month. It just depends on the year and what else is going on for me.
As a writer who works in multiple literary genres, if you had to choose a favorite, which would it be?
If you told me that I was going to ascend to nirvana tomorrow and I could only write one more thing, it would definitely be a poem. Poetry is my first love. I started writing it as a very young child. I’m not sure why. Nobody read poetry to me. It’s just been a part of me in an organic way for a very long time. I studied in high school as much as I could and as soon as I got the chance, I ran off to Naropa Institute to study with Allen Ginsberg.
Even when I’m writing prose, poetry is my base. It’s the form I return to; it’s the form of my heart.
What was the first poem that you wrote about Matthew Shepard?
I was the keynote speaker for Gay Awareness Week in 1998 at the University of Wyoming. I arrived on the day that Matthew Shepard died. I had always wanted to write about the experience. The first thing I wrote is now the afterword of the book (October Mourning: A Song for Matthew Shepard), the essay “Imagine.” I wrote that on the plane ride going home. I published it in about 20 regional gay newspapers in 1998.
After that, I could never write about it. Then I saw The Laramie Project. In 2009, I saw The Laramie Project Part Two: The Epilogue. That night, I couldn’t sleep. The play brought back everything about my time out there.
I think about mothers all the time, even though I’m not a mother. I always thought about what it would be like for the mother of a murdered child to have a conversation with the mother of the murderer, but I never could pull it off. I tried writing about it but I couldn’t do it.
When I saw The Laramie Project Part Two, it reminded me that Russell Henderson’s mother was raped and murdered in January 1999. I stayed up that night and wrote the poem “Wounded,” so that was the first poem in the collection.
When did you know that you had more to say about Matthew in terms of a full-length book manuscript such as October Mourning: A Song for Matthew Shepard?
I saw the play in October of 2009. At the time I was the Poet Laureate of Northampton and I was spearheading a 30 poems in 30 days project in November. I organized 70 poets to write a poem a day and to collect money, like a marathon, a nickel or a dollar a poem, to give to a local literacy group. When November first came around I realized I had to write 30 poems.
I started writing the poems that later appeared in October Mourning at that point. After 30 days it was very clear that it was a book-length project. I kept going. I actually wrote about 70 poems in 70 days. I took a long time to edit them.
I read all of the articles that appeared in The New York Times. I read Judy Shepard’s memoir. I read Romaine Patterson’s memoir. I watched the movie. I went out to Wyoming twice. I went twice to the fence to meditate and say kaddish. Then it all came together.
In October Mourning, everything has a voice, including the truck, the road, the fence and the state of Wyoming, to mention a few.
When I started writing, I started with a question, which was “What happened at that fence?” In my research, I found out that the incident took place in about 15 minutes.
That stunned me. There’s been so much written about it and I wondered what I could bring to it, as a poet, that would shed some light on this or what could I personally learn. I can tap into the poetic voices of these various objects that were there. I kept thinking, I wish there were witnesses.
Then I had my a-ha moment. There was a witness—the fence. There were others—the stars and the truck. But the fence has become such an iconic image. Then I thought, the fence was an innocent bystander, which is why I start the book with [the poem] “The Fence (before).” I realized that I had to end with “The Fence (after).”
The fence became very important to me as I was writing the book.
Like October Mourning, I Carry My Mother, your most recent book, is a book-length cycle of poems.
It actually wasn’t the first time I’d done this. My book Still Life With Buddy, which came out in 1997, is a book-length series of poems that tells the story of a passionate relationship between a lesbian and a gay man living with and then dying of AIDS. That’s my favorite way to tackle a subject.
Poetry, fiction, non-fiction, voice, research. It gives me the opportunity and the challenge to bring all my training and experience into play. That’s why I love to do that. I use that form when I’m tackling subjects of massive grief. The form/forms allow me to look at the experience from a myriad of ways.
It allows me to rein in the unmanageable feelings of grief and pour them into a container that can hold them. It allows me to both draw closer to and distance myself from the experience. When I’m crafting a formal poem, I have to go over the material repeatedly which brings me closer to the material. I have to think about line breaks and metaphor and enjambment and rhyme and syllable count. That tension of closeness and distance comes forth in the poems.
Continuing with subject of grief, your anthology, A Loving Testimony: Remembering Loved Ones Lost to AIDS was published 20 years ago this year. With that book, Still Life With Buddy, October Mourning and I Carry My Mother in mind, please say something about the intersection of tragedy and art.
It’s definitely what gets me through. I don’t know how people who don’t create something out of that kind of experience manage.
Grief is such a primal feeling. Children just dive into their emotions in such a complete way. For me, writing a picture book is a way to deal with such a strong emotion for which there is sometimes no comfort.
2015 has been a big year for you in terms of publishing. In addition to I Carry My Mother, a brand new edition of your classic children’s book Heather Has Two Mommies, featuring illustrations by Laura Cornell, was published. Why was this the right time for a new edition of the book?
The book had been out of print for a little while. People had been clamoring for it. I was having lunch with my editor at Candlewick Press and she asked what was going on with Heather…I told her it was out of print. We both had the same idea (to reissue it).
It was their idea to newly illustrate the book, to make it look more contemporary. With everything going on with marriage equality, it seemed like the right time. It’s also served as a benchmark for people to look back on the last 25 years and see what’s happened regarding LGBT rights. It’s been an amazing journey.
Have you started working on or thinking about your next book project?
I’m always working on something new. I recently completed and am still tinkering with a new picture book called Sparkle Boy, about a little boy who loves sparkly things just like his sister. It’s about him, but it’s equally about his sister’s journey because at first, she’s not very happy about this.
