Maw Shein Win
Age: Over fifty. Residence: San Francisco Bay Area. Book: Invisible Gifts (Manic D Press, April), a collection of poems that explore a colorful world imbued with unexpected paradoxes: the natural realm that is both comforting and savagely unnerving; love that is permanent yet fleeting; and memory mired in both exacting details and flaws. Editor: Jen Joseph. Agent: None.
ONE afternoon in 2014, while recovering from hip replacement surgery, I dropped a tub of butter on the kitchen floor. I was in a wheelchair at the time, and I remember my frustration at not being able to pick up the butter, desperately trying to use my grabber as the tub slipped away. “Objects,” one of the poems in my book, was written out of this experience. During that sixmonth recovery period, writer friends would visit, and we wrote together in the living room. I was also going through a divorce, and later I fell in love again. I kept writing with the help of my friends. I lost my older sister to
health complications. I wrote about that. Many of the poems in this book arose from these events as well as from the exploration of themes of love, art, and nature.
As a child, instead of watching Sesame Street I would listen to my father play Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan records and try to memorize the lyrics. As an undergraduate majoring in English at California State University in Long Beach, I was excited by the work of e. e. cummings, Gertrude Stein, and Adrienne Rich. I began to embrace all kinds of art: I lived with painters and dancers, went to punk rock shows, watched art films, and started a small press. A copy of Yoko Ono’s Grapefruit: A Book of Instruction and Drawings was always on my nightstand. When I moved to the Bay Area in the 1990s I cofounded an arts journal called Comet, and we hosted parties and fundraisers that included bands, writers, and performance artists. I have collaborated with many musicians and artists over the years, worked in libraries, and taught in different capacities to make a living.
In 2016 I was fortunate to have a chapbook, Score and Bone, published by Nomadic Press. More recently I served as the inaugural poet laureate of El Cerrito, California. In a way I feel that Invisible Gifts emerged from a life of participation in a variety of artistic communities. Last spring, at the Bay Area Book Fair, I stopped by the booths and chatted with publisher Jen Joseph, who asked me to send her a manuscript. It was edited first with invaluable help from select fellow poets and finally with Jen over coffee. I was proactive about publicity and booked numerous readings where I invited local poets and musicians whose work I admire. I was moved by how many old friends attended my launch at City Lights Bookstore.
Find or create your community. I belong to two longtime writing groups. The camaraderie, feedback, and support have helped nurture my creative process for many years. Continue to submit your work. Challenging as it is, try not to focus on the rejections for too long, and forge ahead. Educate yourself about the world of independent publishing. Share your words, and go to readings, concerts, and museums for inspiration. Celebrate the accomplishments of others. Organize and host events. It’s never too late to participate.
Ultimately I think of my book as a signpost on the greater journey of living a writer’s life, and at the end I’ll be able to say, “Well, that was fun and fulfilling” and truly mean it.
Share your words, and go to readings, concerts, and museums for inspiration. Celebrate the accomplishments of others. Organize and host events.
It’s never too late to participate.