Leslie Sainz
HAVE YOU BEEN LONG ENOUGH AT TABLE Tin House
There is no country where the dead don’t float.
—from “Ño”
How it began: Poetry seemed the only appropriate medium capable of holding the many contradictions that have defined my understanding of self, spirit, and state.
Inspiration: The art of Tania Bruguera, Marta María Pérez Bravo, Zilia Sánchez Domínguez, and Clara Varas. Cuban movie posters from the 1960s and 1970s. Max Richter. Radiohead. Melody Beattie’s book Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself (Spiegel & Grau, 2022).
Writer’s block remedy: I have a rule not to force anything in my life, be that writing, relationships, etc. When language eludes me, that often looks like asking myself, “In this moment, can I forgive myself if I give up on this poem?” If the answer is yes, I go for a walk, listen to music that devastates me. Afterward there’s usually a reverse psychological effect and I’m desperate to keep at it. If the answer is no, I’ll scour my bookshelves for three books: one I haven’t read yet that poses a challenge, one written in the past ten years that I enjoyed, and a favorite collection published before the year 2000. I’ll flip through all three, searching for answers and, miraculously, stumble into some.
Finding time to write: While most of my activity exists at the mercy of chronic fatigue and illness, I am energized by the looking and obsessing that proacts and enacts poetry. This is made easier, made possible, by catering to my musts. I must write in the evening, after all the day’s unskippable tasks have been completed. I must write following a warm shower, with at least one lit candle nearby.
Advice: You cannot be late to your own life.
Also, you are allowed your agony.
Age: 31. Residence: Small-town Vermont. Job: I am fortunate to make my living as the managing editor of New England Review.
Time spent writing the book: Roughly eight years. Time spent finding a home for it:
Three years and five different versions of the manuscript.