Chris Johnson is the Managing
Editor for Arc Poetry Magazine. His
recent chapbooks include Listen, Partisan! (Frog Hollow Press, 2016)
and Gravenhurst (above/ground press, 2019). @ceeeejohnson
Q:
How long have you been in Ottawa, and what first brought you here?
I came to Ottawa for the same reason that anyone comes to Ottawa. 10 years ago now, I opted to attend Carleton University for a B.A. in English. At the time of my move to Ottawa, I was in love with my high school girlfriend, who was accepted to the Vet Tech program at Algonquin. Despite moving to the same city, we had broken up by Hallowe'en.
I came to Ottawa for the same reason that anyone comes to Ottawa. 10 years ago now, I opted to attend Carleton University for a B.A. in English. At the time of my move to Ottawa, I was in love with my high school girlfriend, who was accepted to the Vet Tech program at Algonquin. Despite moving to the same city, we had broken up by Hallowe'en.
Q: How did you first get involved in writing,
and subsequently, the writing community here?
Arguably the
cause of my breakup with my high school sweetheart, I fell in love with another
person in my first year of university. This person and I dated on-and-off
throughout our undergraduate degrees, and during the summer between first year
and second year I discovered their Tumblr. They used their blog to post
original poetry and other writing, and I thought I should pour my angst about
the distance between us into my own Tumblr blog. There was where I found my
first writing community. In the physical world, back at Carleton, I began to
become aware of the In/Words writing community, mainly through a Canadian
Literature course taught by Collett Tracey and TA'd by Ben Ladouceur. I
remember seeing a poster on campus about a reading that Ben was giving and
thought that sounded really neat. I don't know if I ended up attending that
reading, but I do recall attending a series of workshops that the In/Words crew
were facilitating for free on behalf of Carleton's English Literature Society.
(I believe the workshops I attended were on comedic poetry led by Jeff Blackman
and memoir/creative non-fiction led by Leah Mol.) From then, I began attending
the In/Words reading series (the hosts when I began attending were Jordan
Chevalier and jesslyn delia smith) and attending writers circles, then the Tree
Reading Series, and then, and then, and then.
Q: How did being in such a
community of writers shift your thinking about writing, if at all?
There was something captivating about In/Words when I first became aware of them. All of these talented poets and writers supporting each other, encouraging each other, publishing each other, but they all seemed to have unique styles and personalities to their writing even while so much of their output was referential to what was happening around them. This shifted my thinking about writing significantly. Where I had previously only thought of poetry as a means to express introspection in words, I began to use poetry as a means to engage with things outside of my head and my body. As I became even more involved in Ottawa's poetry scene, I've learned (from Amanda Earl, among others) that writing the body has its purposes as well, but introspection can also have external influence. Stephen Brockwell taught me more about how humour and politics can work into dream poems. Manahil Bandukwala has taught me how culture can feed a poem. Like any community, every individual played a part in my artistic development (and continue to do so).
There was something captivating about In/Words when I first became aware of them. All of these talented poets and writers supporting each other, encouraging each other, publishing each other, but they all seemed to have unique styles and personalities to their writing even while so much of their output was referential to what was happening around them. This shifted my thinking about writing significantly. Where I had previously only thought of poetry as a means to express introspection in words, I began to use poetry as a means to engage with things outside of my head and my body. As I became even more involved in Ottawa's poetry scene, I've learned (from Amanda Earl, among others) that writing the body has its purposes as well, but introspection can also have external influence. Stephen Brockwell taught me more about how humour and politics can work into dream poems. Manahil Bandukwala has taught me how culture can feed a poem. Like any community, every individual played a part in my artistic development (and continue to do so).
Q: What do you see happening
here that you don’t see anywhere else? What does Ottawa provide, or allow?
When I first started attending literary events in Ottawa, it seemed like everyone was excited to have space to experiment. Audiences at poetry readings were always enrapt in the poems, attentive and respectful. At first I thought this was because everyone cared about the craft. Now, slightly more cynical, I think it might have been because we just wanted to soak up every poetry opportunity we got. Ottawa's not a small town, but we still can't compete with Toronto or Montreal, so I feel like we're slightly overlooked. On one hand, that means writers here are willing to play more with form, style, and sound. We aren't generally a town that shuns anyone for being too weird. On the other hand...
Q: Have any of your projects responded directly to your engagements here? How have the city and its community, if at all, changed the way you approached your work?
My chapbook with Frog Hollow Press, Listen, Partisan!, contains multiple poems that engage with the city; poems about Pretoria Bridge, Chinatown, walking up and down Bank Street for various reasons. I often wrote about people in those poems, my struggles with relationships both romantic and platonic. It's hard to say if Ottawa and the community here brought about these themes, or if I would have been writing about place wherever I was, but I can certainly say that this city and community hasn't not affected my approach to writing.
Q: What are you working on now?
When I first started attending literary events in Ottawa, it seemed like everyone was excited to have space to experiment. Audiences at poetry readings were always enrapt in the poems, attentive and respectful. At first I thought this was because everyone cared about the craft. Now, slightly more cynical, I think it might have been because we just wanted to soak up every poetry opportunity we got. Ottawa's not a small town, but we still can't compete with Toronto or Montreal, so I feel like we're slightly overlooked. On one hand, that means writers here are willing to play more with form, style, and sound. We aren't generally a town that shuns anyone for being too weird. On the other hand...
Q: Have any of your projects responded directly to your engagements here? How have the city and its community, if at all, changed the way you approached your work?
My chapbook with Frog Hollow Press, Listen, Partisan!, contains multiple poems that engage with the city; poems about Pretoria Bridge, Chinatown, walking up and down Bank Street for various reasons. I often wrote about people in those poems, my struggles with relationships both romantic and platonic. It's hard to say if Ottawa and the community here brought about these themes, or if I would have been writing about place wherever I was, but I can certainly say that this city and community hasn't not affected my approach to writing.
Q: What are you working on now?
I have a few ideas for
projects, and a few others already on the go. I've written a number of poems
recently about significant raccoons, including poems about the guy who pulled out the raccoon in the
middle of a fight at the Rideau McDonalds and the Toronto dead raccoon memorial and
the two fucking raccoons that some
jerk saw and decided to compare to contemporary poetry. I also recently put a
call out on Twitter to work on collaborative poems with other bisexual writers,
which has become a project that I'm excited to be behind on.