"Be an apprentice to your own voice, your own spirit..."

John Amen's debut poetry collection, Christening the Dancer, was released by Uccelli Press in 2003 and nominated for various awards, including the Kate Tufts Award, the Lenore Marshall Award, and the Brockman-Campbell Prize. His second collection, More of Me Disappears, was released in September 2005 by Cross-Cultural Communications. His poetry and fiction have been published in numerous magazines and journals, and he was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize. His first solo recording, All I'll Never Need, was released by Cool Midget Records in 2005. He is also an artist, working primarily with acrylics on canvas. Further information is available on his personal website:  www.johnamen.com.

Amen travels widely giving readings, doing musical performances, and conducting workshops. He founded and continues to edit the award-winning literary bimonthly, The Pedestal Magazine.

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SC: You're a writer, a musician and an artist. Which did you discover first - writing, music or art? Did one lead to the discovery of another? Does a poem ever inspire a song, a song inspire a painting, a painting inspire a poem? When the inspiration comes - do you know for sure if it's meant for a poem, a painting or a song?

JA: When I was twelve or so I discovered language, in the poetic sense. I had a somewhat problematic youth, you could say, and expressing through language became my primary lifeline. My sense that expression was important is probably what kept me sane or even alive. I fell in love with the word, so to speak, with how life - and this is how I thought about it at the time - could be redeemed through art. Writing gave me a way to stay fascinated with life. It wasn't until later, much later, that I learned to appreciate life in and of itself. But that's a different story.

I wouldn't really say that one art form led to another, although I did learn guitar in order to be able to accompany myself lyrically. So, in that sense, wanting to be able to deliver words in rhythmic and melodic parameters did lead to my interest in the guitar. For me, the art forms are pretty separate, really. I'm usually very clear about what medium - writing, art, music - to utilize in order to convey a certain content. It's interesting, I'm considering putting together a mixed media project, a book that includes writing, art, and a CD of songs. But I'm not sure about it; the energies of each seem so very unique, and I'm not sure if they complement one another. I do like the idea of trying to bring them together a bit more, though. And I do very much enjoy doing readings in which I share both poetry and songs.  
 
SC: How has the process of creating the work in More of Me Disappears differed from that of Christening the Dancer? How does the work differ from one book to the next? Do you feel that there's been a change in your poetic voice in the two years that have passed since Christening the Dancer's release?

JA: One immediate change is that I'm busier now than I was while writing the Christening the Dancer poems. Sure, there are the obvious endeavors - editing Pedestal, other work, but more than that, my life is much fuller than it used to be. I'm getting married in June. I put time into friendships. I want to experience different things. I'm savoring life itself now, which is a commitment in and of itself. So, anyway, I'm busier, I think. I do think that my voice or perspective or style has probably changed or broadened somewhat, too, but I'm not sure how. I'll let other people comment on how my poetry has evolved. I think that's more for readers to say. Personally speaking, though, I'm celebrating a newfound engagement with life, in all its permutations.
 
SC: It's been said that a poem is a confession.  Do you believe that to be true? Is there a strong autobiographical component to your writing?

JA: I think there's probably a confessional element to any poem, even if it isn't autobiographical, even if it's purely metaphorical. I don't think of myself as a "confessional poet," per se, but then again, I've never really liked the label. I mean, a poem is a revelation of some kind; if it's effective, moving, evocative, then it probably is founded upon and exudes some kind of vulnerability, so in that sense, confession is probably an integral part of the creative process.
 
SC: Your poem "The Consummation" is dedicated to Mary. I find that poem dedications tend to set my imagination on fire - I wonder about the person who has inspired such words. Without sharing more about her than she (or you) would be comfortable with, tell me three ways that you would describe Mary.

JA: Just three ways, huh? Well, I would say that Mary is very sensual, generous, and humble.
 
SC: Describe to me the perfect "writing atmosphere" for you. Where do you create your work? Do you listen to music when you write, or are your words written in silence?

JA: My ideal, at least so far, is to be in a quiet space, preferably my own office; and no, I don't listen to music when I write; it tends to distract me.  
 
SC: You're currently in the midst of many poetry readings around the country. What - besides the promotion of your books - is the value of reading poetry aloud? What do you get from the experience, and what do you hope to give? What do you learn as a poet from listening to other poets read their work?

JA: It's important for me to stay grounded in the fact that no matter how many books might sell or how many people might come to a reading, poetry is not ultimately a mainstream activity; poetry, to me, is about connecting with individuals, building relationships with individuals. It's about forging those deep interactions with the few, relatively speaking. Giving readings is a chance to do this in a more immediate way. Yes, it's about selling books, but it's important to remember that it's really about impacting people with vulnerability, giving people something they might relate to on a deep level. It's about celebrating and grieving this thing called life. I also, of course, have my hopes: I hope people will respond, I hope people will buy books. I love applause, etc. But, again, really, poetry for me remains a process of, ultimately, connecting with one person, whether it be one person reading the poem in a book or one person who happens to be in a roomful of people.

It's a similar thing when listening to others read. Sometimes it seems that poets don't think about what they're doing when they read. The readers who touch me most are those who, in their own way, facilitate relationship.  
 
SC: Speaking of reading your poetry aloud - does it make you nervous? If so, how do you get past the feelings of nervousness? 

JA: Sure, it does, but I don't try to get rid of the feeling. I allow it to be part of the reading. I mean, public reading is to some extent performance, but performance is most effective when it's authentic.  
 
SC: You founded and continue to edit The Pedestal Magazine. What led you to start The Pedestal?

JA: I had wanted to start a literary magazine for quite some time. I had always thought that I would start a print publication. In the late 90's I became aware of internet journals; there weren't that many then. I was fascinated by the notion of online publishing. It seemed like a new frontier. Within a few months I had decided to create The Pedestal online. Our first issue posted in December 2000.  
 
SC: What is the state of online literary journals today, as you see it? What would you like to see from these journals in the future? What do you think the impact of online magazines has been on the literary world?

JA: I firmly believe that some of the best work being written today appears in online journals. The world of online publishing is a fertile ground. That said, I do think there is still a gulf between the world of online publishing and the world of traditional print. That gulf is closing, certainly. More and more people are submitting to online journals. As I say, there is a great deal of fantastic work appearing online.

I think, though, that we need more organization within the world of online publishing. We need an association that can address our specific needs and goals. There are other organizations that attempt to address the needs of the small press, etc., but that's not enough; we really need to put something together that, again, is specifically geared toward the organization and advancement of online publishing. We need, also, and this is a direct result of organization, to bring more money into the field. We need to be creative about how we go about raising money, in addition to approaching traditional organizations such as The Poetry Foundation and The Academy of American Poets. Clearly we're going to experience resistance, or worse, we'll be ignored, but it's important that we continue to assert a presence.

I have no doubt that online journals are the future of literature. In many ways, this is already the case, although people don't fully know it yet. Still, again, we need organization, and we need money. I'd like to see us have conferences geared toward online publishing. I'm committed to putting my energy in this direction. Once momentum gets created, things will take off, but getting that early momentum going is what takes the effort.
 
SC: What have your years of editing The Pedestal taught you about writing?

JA: On a daily basis, I'm exposed to a wide variety of writing. Being immersed in the editorial process, engaging with so many manuscripts, has probably affirmed for me the importance of details, how subtle elements can make or break a poem. Every poem create its own rules, its own parameters. It's important to read the poem on its own terms. It's also important, I think, to let a poem be written on its own terms.  
 
SC: Last year, you put out a tremendous political issue of The Pedestal, which included views and offerings from around the world. How has the current political climate in America (and the world) influenced your own writing?

JA: I don't consider myself a political poet. I've never felt inclined to write topical or political poems, per se. I'm interested in politics, but not really in political art. In a sense, to me, that's propaganda. While there's definitely a place for that, there's very little propaganda that has moved me artistically. That said, the more general climate of life, which is in part politically defined, clearly affects me. I mean, the ubiquity of violence, the presence of injustice, the surreal and solipsistic nature of contemporary life, the occurrence of war, these things do affect me. The particulars become symbols, metaphors for a certain way of being. These modern facts and phenomena, if you will, find their way into my poems. I feel I'm very aware of and affected by what I would call the existential climate of America, although I'm not particularly drawn to taking political positions within an artistic context.
 
SC: When having a poetry collection published, how much promotion can and should an author expect their press to provide? How much of setting up and carrying out promotional opportunities is reliant on the writer's own blood, sweat and tears?

JA: I think it varies from press to press and author to author. The idea, though, that getting a book published constitutes some kind of arrival is a complete myth. I mean, both Uccelli and Cross-Cultural Communications were and are helpful in numerous ways. Stanley Barkan at Cross-Cultural Communications has a great number of contacts; he's been publishing for thirty-five years, so he's a goldmine, so to speak. But I also have a lot of contacts when it comes to setting up readings and other promotional events, so it makes sense that I would handle some logistics myself. I actually enjoy, for the most part, the marketing end of things, so for me it's not that much of a stretch. Some people hate that and don't want to handle it. I would just say that no press is going to handle everything. Things are going to go much better if the author takes on at least some responsibilities.
 
SC: To the writer, musician and painter you are: Which contemporary poets do you admire? Which musicians have inspired you? What is your favorite color?

JA: There have been so many writers and musicians who have touched me over the years. That said, in terms of sustained interest, I've always felt a kinship with W.S. Merwin, Franz Kafka, the French and Spanish Surrealists, and the Dadaists. I've liked a lot of the early folk music as well as Nirvana and much of the new, what I would call, acoustic alternative music. It's hard to say what my favorite color is, as context has so much to do with how a color occurs. That said, though, I am very drawn to red, yellow, and black.
 
SC: What advice do you have for aspiring poets?

JA: Well, I would say keep writing. And I would say, let go of cultural notions and conditioning about what a poem or a piece of art is supposed to be. Do it your own way. Sure, it's important to read and listen and observe and take in what's been done, just so you have an historical sense of what's been created. But develop your own voice. Don't be afraid of not making sense. Don't be afraid of falling short of whatever arbitrary criteria might be in your head, as the result of conditioning or the media or being told something by someone who doesn't know any different. Voice is a unique thing, and it inevitably involves being both receptive and rebellious. I think it's important to be an apprentice to your own voice, your own spirit, what you're trying to uniquely say and become.