Boogie woogie haka, motherhood and morbid humour: What inspires our most-loved writers?

Witi Ihimaera and Michelle Elvy invited 68 writers and eight artists to discuss the second decade of this century, including decolonisation, indigeneity and climate change. A Kind of Shelter: Whakaruru-taha, an anthology of new writing for a changing world, (RRP $39.99, Massey University Press).

This is pitched as like a hui on the page – a ‘‘boogie woogie haka’’. How did you decide whose voices you wanted in the discussion?

You never know who’s going to turn up at a Ma¯ori hui. Michelle and I put out separate karanga to writers here and overseas and waited. Sixty-eight writers turned up at the tatau, the door to the whare. Each had a distinct gift in poem, story, memoir, essay. And there were some whom we had invited to ko¯rero in interview with each other about what we could see as we looked at the future hanging on the horizon.

Which piece of writing or idea stood out to you?

The pukapuka actually works as an interconnected mihi, so it’s difficult to extricate one work or piece as it’s kind of like identifying one person in the wha¯nau when the wha¯nau itself is the important entity. And each time I read the book – because it’s a ko¯rero which invites many readings – it’s like a kaleidoscope, constantly changing and altering and you see themes you missed in previous readings. You expect identity, place, the relationship between Ma¯ori and Pa¯keha¯ to be discussed but not so the themes of pregnancy and motherhood, for instance, or the richness of inheritances that Aotearoa New Zealand now has on offer.

Is New Zealand in trouble?

I’m writing this at the Brisbane Writers Festival where, in speaking with other writers, we agree the whole world is in trouble! We put the blame squarely at the feet of patriarchal male leadership who don’t want to let go of their instruments of power and hold the rest of us to ransom by not taking greater collective action on climate change, greenhouse gas emissions, the plight of world refugees, war all over the globe, distribution of food supplies and so on. In Aotearoa New Zealand we are not immune and we do have a responsibility to maintain our humanitarian sense of kaitiakiship in our roles both nationally and internationally. Nou te rourou na¯ku te rourou ka ora ai te iwi, with our food basket and their food basket the people will thrive.

Finally, what are you reading right now?

The Ukrainian poet Ilya Kaminsky’s collection, Dancing in Odessa. The BBC named him among one of the 12 artists, in 2019, to look out for as a world-changer.

publishes the work of young writers. What’s your best tip for emerging writers?

Find your style. That means using descriptions – similes, metaphors – that only you could think of. If you think you’ve found an image, push harder – what does that sunrise really look like? Cut glass? Diamonds on the water? Push harder again – what does it look like now? What kind of concrete detail from your own life could you use to create the comparison? Remember that the editor of any journal is likely going to be reading hundreds of submissions. Your writing voice needs to strike them immediately, and you achieve that by it being uniquely yours.

Jane Arthur

In her second poetry collection Arthur ‘‘wants to get morbid’’: meteorites, regret, hopelessness, are all covered in Calamities! (Te Herenga Waka University Press, RRP $25).

A book about catastrophe! Would you describe yourself as an anxious person, or do these poems simply reflect the realities of the world we live in right now?

My book’s title, Calamities!, is semi tongue-in-cheek, though not entirely. I am definitely an anxious person! I phrase it in one poem as being ‘‘skilled at risk assessment’’, though at some point we must admit there are some horrors in the world that are rather hard to ignore. Many of the poems talk about these, from the massive to the small and arguably silly. But there are plenty of poems that are about non-catastrophic topics, because I didn’t want the whole book to be a downer.

What’s the trick to injecting humour into poetry?

I would like to know! I’m not always sure if the things I intend as funny are the same things readers find funny… I suspect any humour comes from me walking a very fine line of selfdeprecation and melodrama.

You run and co-own an independent bookshop in now? Wellington – tell us about that.

With novelist Catherine Robertson, I opened GOOD BOOKS in October 2020, and my day job is now as its manager. GOOD BOOKS is on Jessie St in Te Aro, in the little lane beside Prefab cafe´, tucked behind the Hamish McKay gallery. It’s a beautiful, architecturally awardwinning space; we have awesome staff; and though we’re small, we stock books for every kind of reader. And we’re the first Living Wage bookshop in Aotearoa! goodbookshop.nz.

What are you reading right

I have recently finished Laughing at the Dark, Dunedinbased Barbara Else’s memoir about discovering her feminist and writer self, and I remain completely obsessed with it. I was also blown away by Alice Te Punga Somerville’s poetry collection, Always Italicise, and want to shove it urgently into everyone’s hands.

Next poetry book on my pile is The Artist, a new verse novel by the genius Ruby Solly. And I’ve just started the debut novel by Auckland writer Josie Shapiro, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, which promises to be ‘‘heart-rending and hopeful’’ and therefore that most blessed of things for a bookseller: an easy sell.