Conceiving a Relationship Between Literary and Speculative: Interview with Terese Mason Pierre
Terese Mason Pierre is a writer, editor and organizer. Her work has appeared in Canthius, Strange Horizons, and Train: a poetry journal, among others. She is currently the poetry editor of Augur Magazine, a Canadian speculative and surrealism literature journal, and she volunteers with Shab-e She’r, a monthly poetry reading series. Terese lives and works in Toronto.
In this interview, Canthius editorial board member Manahil Bandukwala talks to Terese about her chapbook Surface Area, speculative poetry and fiction, and the intersections of community and writing.
To learn more about Terese, see her work on her website, or follow her on Twitter @teresempierre
Canthius: Hi Terese, congratulations on publishing Surface Area with Anstruther Press.
I love the lines in your poem, “Surface Area”: “I’ll keep coming here / till we terraform the moon / light on the cracks / of our brains, / type and token / voyeurs of each other’s folds / in motion.”
A theme I saw woven throughout your chapbook was one of rocks, pyrite, sediment, groundedness, entangled with relationships. How did these themes come together as you prepared your manuscript?
Terese: These themes were present in the poems before I collected them. I often write about nature and romance—both are vast, both are widely interpretable. I think I started writing about those themes because I thought that that’s what poetry was supposed to be about. I no longer think this, but my writing hasn’t changed. The reason these particular poems are in the collection is because I noticed that I had written about these themes and collected it that way. Sometimes, in editing the poems, I’d amplify the themes to make the collection more cohesive—I would reach for nature metaphors, think about how to connect love to nature.
Canthius: You acknowledge Daniel Scott Tysdale’s editing help for the chapbook. Why is mentorship important to you?
Terese: I believe mentorship is important as it helps to shape the up-and-coming generations in ways that looking for information online won’t. To learn from someone who has been there and experienced similar struggles and successes can benefit how emerging people form their perspectives. Mentors can also introduce you to opportunities that were previously inaccessible, and support those who wish to make waves and change systems. While Daniel is not a formal mentor of mine, he is an educator, which means he is invested in the success of emerging writers, and he has helped me, beyond acquiring and editing my chapbook, in gaining the confidence to share my work.
Canthius: In an interview with talking about strawberries, you mention working on a chapbook of speculative poems. How is that project going?
Terese: At this time, I think the project is finished. There are some fantastical poems, some that touch on race issues, some that kind of don’t make sense. I’m hoping to send it out this year. I really like what I’ve written, but, of course, I’m open to change.
Canthius: Augur Magazine is an amazing literary journal that publishes speculative literature and art. It also seems like a wonderful team of people. What is working with them like?
Terese: I started working with Augur in late 2017, and it’s been a very positive experience. Everyone on the masthead is passionate, highly skilled and capable. We work together well, starting from a place of empathy and openness, so everyone feels appreciated and supported. It’s the kind of environment I’ve always wanted to work in. Through Augur, I’ve had a chance to bolster my editing and nonfiction-writing skills, and learn how to write grants. I hope to continue working with Augur in some capacity as long as I’m a writer.
Canthius: On Augur’s blog, you wrote a post about “Experiencing Afrofuturism as a Black Canadian.” You write, “Why couldn’t I just write speculative fiction about black people living in Canada, the way I was black and living in Canada?”
How have your encounters with black speculative fiction changed over time, either within your own writing or in others’?
Terese: So far, I’ve just been hoarding stories. I surround myself with Black spec writers. I’ve been searching more and more for Black speculative fiction online, especially in contexts I can understand, even more so when it’s in an area I least expect. As I’ve been writing mostly poetry, that’s the work that has been most influenced. I want my first collection of poetry to be Black speculative poetry, not only so I can contribute to that genre (canon?), but so I can learn more about what it means for me to be a Black writer and a speculative literature writer.
Canthius: In an interview on Augur’s blog, you write how you “have written explicitly speculative poems that have not been interpreted as such.” How can a writer navigate the space between “literary” and “speculative”?
Terese: I go back and forth about how I want to conceive of the relationship between literary and the speculative. Is it a spectrum? Is it binary? I think it’s a bit of both, but this depends on, I think, what your definition of speculative is, and that needs to be defined before you go around pointing out what is and isn’t and sort-of speculative. It gets more complicated when you delve into different ontologies and metaphysics of what can and can’t exist. What Augur magazine does is try to bridge the gap between the literary and the speculative, especially the gap in ‘prestige,’ by showcasing stories that might not fit into one category or the other, and that’s the kind of work I like. As someone who has written in both forms, I don’t think a writer needs to be focused on navigating that space so much during the writing process. It might get complicated when you go out into the community and see that there are so many divides. But with community, the advice, I believe, is always to go/stay where you feel most comfortable and accepted. How to categorize a book, I think, is the job of publishers, librarians and booksellers. There are many speculative fiction books that I’ve found in the ‘regular’ fiction section.
Canthius: How is being a poetry editor for a literary magazine connected to your own writing and projects?
Terese: Being an editor of speculative poetry for Augur has inspired me to write speculative poetry—I had not done so prior to joining Augur. I’ve deeply enjoyed writing this kind of poetry. I see it as a sort of consolidation of my interests. I spend a lot of time in “literary poetry” circles, but when I share my speculative poems, they are well-received (as far as I can tell). Additionally, I’ve found that my speculative poems are interpreted in different ways by speculative and literary audiences, and this serves to broaden my perspective about the impact writing can have. In terms of tangible work, I’ve already spoken about my second chapbook manuscript and the full-length ambition. In the interim, I’ve started to submit my poems to speculative journals, and I’ve been published in FIYAH (a magazine for Black speculative literature) twice and Strange Horizons most recently.
Canthius: You co-host Shab-e-She’r with Bänoo Zan, a Toronto-based reading series committed to uplifting writers of all backgrounds. What kind of space do you see fostered at Shab-e-She’r?
Terese: I think the best thing that Shab’e She’r is doing is bringing different communities together, in particular different languages and different poetic styles. I don’t often venture into the spoken-word poetry scene (even though I should), and I see many spoken-word artists at Shab’e She’r, which I’m grateful for. The series also showcases many poets from marginalized backgrounds, and it’s refreshing and meaningful to hear a poem in a different language or centering a different culture. I hope that the series continues to foster an inclusive and diverse space, and, in future, I would like to see more focused curation of that inclusive and diverse space.
Canthius: On Twitter, Faith Arkorful described you using these words: “Terese is a force! A pillar in this community!” Which is so true, and I see from Ottawa too! What does community mean to you?
Terese: Community is very important to me. I started writing as a way to pass the time after moving to a different country and experiencing difficulty making friends. While I love and value my writing, I mainly write for an audience, which means I need to share my work and received feedback to maintain motivation. It’s working for me so far. I love my community because it’s allowed me to meet so many interesting and inspiring people (including people I strongly admire), and has exposed me to work that I might not otherwise have heard of or read. I think community is important for writers, for support—whether it’s to buy or share their work, or to work together to organize and start change. Regardless of the field, it matters to know people who are going through what you’re going through. Communities, of course, aren’t always perfect and harmonious, and the writing community in Toronto isn’t an exception. As a visible person of colour, I try to emphasize marginalized voices as much as I can, as I didn’t really see much of that when I started. I can only be hopeful.
Canthius: What writers inspire you?
Terese: I’m inspired mainly by writers I know. The poets who inspire me most are Faith Arkorful, Khashayar Mohammadi, and Dominik Parisien. I love their poetic voices, the way their words are both meandering and sharp. If I can write something that’s half as good as their work, I’d be pleased. I also draw inspiration from speculative poets Nisa Malli and Tiffany Morris, and fiction writers Nalo Hopkinson and David Chariandy.
Canthius: What have you read this year that really stuck with you?
Terese: In 2020, I’ve started reading Souvankham Thammavongsa’s poetry collection, Cluster, and I’m really enjoying it so far, and I can’t wait for her short fiction collection. In 2019, Black writers really made an impression on me. I read Desmond Cole’s debut book, The Skin We’re In (to be released in January 2020), as well as Tea Mutonji’s Shut Up, You’re Pretty and Zalika Reid-Benta’s, Frying Plantain. The different (but powerfully similar) forms of the Black experience in Canada was breathtaking, heartbreaking and important to read. Pick up these books if you can.