Hey there. Today I want to give you access to our Art and Poetry co-editor, Esra Jackson (they/them). Last year, I met Esra for a lunch and have been their biggest fan since. I am blessed to have them on staff and we are all in the beginning stages of a beautiful, immediate literary career. dogyard, as a concept, is full of hunger and desire to show you our teeth. Today, Esra bares theirs.
On Wednesday, we'll have our grand-opening and have an introduction from our EIC! We ask you join us across Bluesky and Instagram to see our readers, editors, and celebrate with us. We are so grateful for your patience as we start our pipedream. We hope you can contribute to the yard by submitting your fiction, nonfiction, poetry, essay, and visual art/graphic narrative! If you're more of a reader only, we deeply love and appreciate you and hope your stay in the yard is bountiful.
When and how did you become interested in creative writing?
It's no surprise that, like many writers, I've been reading and writing in some notable fashion since I was a kid. But also, like many writers, I became convinced early on by outside sources that a career in writing wasn’t attainable, that it was rare. And I guess there’s some truth to that, but I think that truth depends on how you define “career” and especially, “writing.” It’s not like I wanted to be Stephen King! Or to be more realistic, Toni Morrison, or Mary Oliver! I’d settle for just being known in my city, hell, even just by my local community. Anyway, I really came into my own as a poet during the second semester of my freshman year of college, when (kind of by fluke, actually) I took my first poetry class. It taught me about poetry as a craft, as a series of decisions and emulations, as a way to reach through my own experience(s) to something beyond them. I learned about form and the precision of language for the first time, it felt like. I became enamoured with brevity and revision and the often-strange logic of poetry. And honestly, just as importantly, I received feedback and validation during that class, both from my peers and my professor, who went on to become my mentor. It was the first time I think I truly believed that I could, first and foremost, write a book, and that secondly, people would read it and make meaning of it.
How would you describe your own writing? What do you draw inspiration from?
I'm sure I'm not alone in this, but I feel like my work is a series of contradictions. Personal yet omniscient. Obsessive yet dismissive. Unpredictable. Faithful—faithful to what though? Having grown up religious, I suspect that’s a question I’m always reaching to answer in my work. Faith in my friends, faith in a good latte, faith in the cicada I held a month ago—an evolving faith perhaps.
I’d also describe my work as being highly concerned with sound. In high-school, though I never did spoken word, my main way of engaging with poetry was through videos of spoken word performances on YouTube. That has touched my work in a way I don’t think will ever leave me. Such commitment to orality and taking up space poetically has become second nature. Recently, my voice has been obsessed with rhyme. I haven’t been able to quiet that voice, not that I want to—though it is insistent.
You’re from Kansas City and went to college at Mizzou, do you feel that living in Missouri has impacted your writing?
Surprisingly, not really. A lot of my work tends to sit outside of describing my immediate surroundings, so the landscape (or more accurately, cityscape) of Kansas City hasn't really come into play. I can think of a couple of poems where I've utilized the general atmosphere of the Midwest, but never Kansas City specifically.
You’re a poet, but you also have a background in art. How do the two influence each other?
While I did study art in college, I’ve never been one to draw or paint. I like to work with found and/or industrial materials (or readymades), materials that take up space, and that obviously and explicitly carry meanings in our society outside of their use in art. I use those sort of built-in connotations to facilitate my own meaning-making—a coffin to discuss grief, bricks made of plaster and wire to discuss the sterility of work culture/education—my recontextualization of these materials feels poetic. Similarly, in my work as a poet, I am often gathering words/phrases (found materials in a sense) from the world around me and then reframing them in such a way they become unfamiliar or magical, a new landscape of meaning. Recently, I’ve been exploring the intersection of my visual art and poetry through zines; last fall I made this mini/micro chapbook called A New Saint: Psalms that consisted of erasure poems of the psalms layered atop digital collages. I felt really satisfied with my work on that project and can’t wait to make more poetry zines in the future.
What life experiences have had the most impact on your writing?
All of my experiences with grief make their way into my work, both those impossibly massive and the tiny deaths. And all of it is so difficult to hold. A lot of the poems I’ve written, especially recently, have been concerned with battling my resistance to accepting and feeling grief. I am also deeply inspired by the rhythms and contradictions of growing up in evangelical Christianity—the rituals and myths, the imagery, the hypocrisy.
How would you describe your writing process?
My writing process is a series of constant revisions on the page; I always begin on paper—crossing out, adding words in the margins, writing until I feel myself lose creative steam. At this point, I’ll start considering form, maybe draft another version on paper testing it out. Then, I’ll transcribe to my computer, making edits and decisions as I type, rereading, rewriting, and speaking the words aloud until I end up at a draft I’m ready to receive feedback on. As for the poems themselves, I typically begin with a single line, usually from my notes app (but not always), and go from there, following the words as they come to me, often through sonic relation with each other. Though, I also have a habit of composing multiple lines at a time in my head before even laying anything down on the page. At times, this revisionist, meticulous thinking results in a breakthrough, though mostly in blockages of ‘not good enough’ or ‘not quite right.’ Recently, I’ve been practicing writing through the thoughts, or writing the ‘bad,’ ‘unpoetic’ thing down—battling the perfectionism—and my work is better for it.
Who are your favorite writers and/or favorite pieces of creative work?
“Ceremonial” by Eduardo C Corral altered my fundamental understanding of what a line could hold and where a singular image could go—it reinvents itself with every line on the page, ending somewhere feverish and new.
“Black Spells” by Porsha Olayiwola is a masterclass of word play as unquestionably serious business.
Beloved by Toni Morrison, In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado, and A Mother is an Intellectual Thing by Kimberly Grey are three books that absolutely floored me.
Some of my favorite writers (you’ll see some repeats here) are Jericho Brown, Kimberley Grey, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Carmen Maria Machado, Toni Morrison, and Stephen Graham Jones.
What are your favorite journals to read or submit to?
ONLY POEMS, Rattle, DIAGRAM, bullshit lit, Bruiser, In The Mood Magazine, Fruitslice, SCAB Magazine
You were editor in chief at EPIC, what were your main takeaways while working that position?
Start everything early! (Still learning this lesson!) And equally as important, learning to be a specific, but also generous reader. Even when I knew a piece ultimately wouldn’t make it into the magazine, there was always, always something to appreciate or learn from. And lastly, it confirmed my desire to work in editing and publishing. It truly feels like one of things I was put on this earth to do.
What made you want to be involved in dogyard mag?
I started my MFA in poetry at the University of Arkansas this fall and one of the editors of dogyard (who is also a part of the program) asked me if I wanted to be a part of a new top secret project and obviously, I said yes. Never had I imagined she was asking me to be an editor for an emerging literary magazine, so when I found out the nature of this top secret project, I was thrilled! I helped run a student-run literary magazine during my undergraduate schooling and also interned at a few journals/magazines, so I had already begun to miss the privilege to read and share others’ creative work.
What would you like to accomplish at dogyard mag/what are you most excited about?
I think being an editor (and a submissions reader) is such a beautiful opportunity. I love being introduced to new writers (new to me) who trust us with their work, and then having the opportunity to introduce that writer to an audience who is ready and willing to receive and support them. Maybe (hopefully) a reader (you!) has found their new favorite writer, and that’s a blessing.
What does it mean to you to be an active member of the literary community?
Supporting local authors. Going to local events. Visiting and buying from bookstores (when possible of course). Seeking out other writers and developing community with them! Sharing our writing is one of the least lonely things we can do! Writing groups, reading groups, workshop groups, etc.
Interview by Mar Prax