CREATIVISTS IN DIALOGUE: A Podcast Embracing the Creative Life
Serena Agusto-Cox, Pushcart Prize nominee, is an editor at The Mid-Atlantic Review, published by DayEight, and coordinates poetry programming for the Gaithersburg Book Festival. Her poems appear in multiple magazines and anthologies. She reviews and markets poetry collections through Savvy Verse & Wit and Poetic Book Tours, respectively. Echoes Carry is her debut poetry collection.
Photo credit: Arts Entwine
Please tell us about one of two historical events that had a significant effect on your creative life, and how so?
One of the two historical events that have had a significant impact on my creative life was the pandemic. It is in history, right? I say this because I care for my disabled brother, my own family, and my parents, plus work full-time. COVID was a trial in patience. It’s hard enough living in a household like mine, but when you cannot go out, have to be extra careful about the viruses and other germs you bring home because of your elderly parents, it makes it extra tense.
Creatively, I was forced to write in the noise because there was very little quiet to be had. No one could go anywhere. I definitely needed to find wells of patience somewhere. I didn’t think I had them. Somehow, I wrote a great deal during that time period, even with all the tension and noise.
A second historical event, which really seems to be a groundhog day, is the school shooting at Columbine High School in Columbine, Colorado [April 20, 1999]. I had graduated high school before this occurred, but I remember the anger many teenagers had in our small town school, the kids who were suspended for bringing knives, and the blanket labeling of these kids as “bad.” The shooting seemed like it was inevitable given the climate I had experienced, and I still consider this one of the most defining moments in modern U.S. history. Every time it reappears in the news at different schools and with different kids, I worry that we are no where near a solution to this issue or helping these kids find connections that can ease their pain or transform their anger into something positive. I don’t have solutions, but these moments are things I think about and weave into my poems. I have a teen and I worry all the time.
Identity, Class, and Personal Experience:
Do you remember your first creative impulse? How old were you? Where did your creativity go from there?
How far back can someone go to find that first creative impulse? I would say it began in kindergarten with coloring. I colored outside the lines a lot. But from there, we learned about colors and learning to color in the lines. I wanted to make it look neat. My father is an artist, and what I mean by that is he creates in a number of mediums. I started where he taught me. Outlining in marker, coloring with crayon inside the outline, graduating to free-hand drawing, and pastels. I never did get the hang of acrylic painting or creating images from my own mind like he does, but this is where painting with words started. My nana had a small ranch-style house and she baked and cooked a lot (one of her art forms), but she let me type away on her typewriter. I wrote stories of all kinds. The one I remember the clearest was about a young woman headed to New York City. The title: “A Big Apple.” From stories to poems, I was painting with words.
Where did you grow up, and how has your upbringing influenced you? What other life experiences—jobs, parenting, caregiving—have shaped your creative self? How do social class and financial realities influence your writing and your characters?
I grew up in Millbury, Massachusetts, it was a former mill town on the Blackstone River. Did my upbringing in a working class family influence me? Most likely. I learned to look at the world from that perspective and saw what money and privilege allowed others to get away with. I also learned to be still, observe, and listen. I was the quiet kid. I went to the library and read everything they had in the small town library. I had to go upstairs to the adult stacks to find something new to read. Probably not the best idea, reading Stephen King at age 10, but it did open my eyes to a world that was bigger than my small town. These early influences kept me grounded in writing.
Painting by Serena Agusto-Cox’s Father
From that small town, I went to school in a small town in Connecticut for two years before I begged my parents to let me transfer to a college in Boston. There’s a tension in my family about city life. My father grew up in Boston as an immigrant kid and not all of his time there was ideal. But that’s his story. I saw the city as a world of possibilities, and it was. I loved every minute I was there. All the plays, readings, events, and more. All of that influenced me.
The echoes of all of these places and people followed me in my writing, even when I moved to Washington, D.C., for my first job after graduation. That job nearly broke me. I was a positive person until I worked in environmental advocacy and saw how hard it is to do anything without financial influence. Even if you have the data and the information to back up what you are saying, without money, moving the needle in Washington is nearly impossible. It wasn’t until I left that soul-crushing work that I started writing and sending out work again. Work that I hope reflects where I’ve been and where I’d like to see us all be.
How do you balance creative work with your other work or family responsibilities, especially in the context of limited resources?
Balance? Not sure what that is really. I work full-time, writing and editing. I love that I use my degree, but it also can be draining creatively. I’m a mother of a competitive swimmer, which means we are in the car to and from practices and swim meets all the time. I spend that hour and a half unwinding from work, most of the time. My creative writing mostly comes when I should be sleeping.
Creative Objectives & Thematic and Ethical Concerns:
What are your overarching creative objectives—capturing perception, voicing a narrative, shaping aesthetics? Do you set external goals as a writer—publications, residencies, audiences?
My biggest creative objective was to publish a poetry collection. Check! But one surprise has been introducing Billy Collins for an ancillary event tied to my volunteer work with the Gaithersburg Book Festival. I never expected that.
Serena Agusto-Cox introducing Billy Collins at the Gaithersburg Book Festival
I don’t have a lot of external goals. One of my dearest friends says, “Now, you will be the U.S. Poet Laureate.” I chuckle when I hear her say that.
Creatively, I want to capture what’s important for us as humans. The connections we share are important for all of us. Losing those connections is one way we lose our humanity. We’re on that precipice every day. I’d like my poetry to be able to create those connections or at least sustain them.
Do you strive to explore the human condition—especially aspects others might find disturbing or strange? Have you ever felt a moral imperative to write something difficult or painful on behalf of others who can’t?
I don’t think that I have a moral imperative to talk about disturbing or strange parts of the human condition, but I will write about them as a way for me to process what I’ve experienced or seen in the world. If that helps others or gives voice to the voiceless, that’s another step on my journey that I was unaware I was taking.
Education, Mentorship, and Social Capital:
What kind of training have you had—formal or informal—and how has it influenced your writing life? Do you see yourself as a mentor, teacher, or coach for others?
Have writing groups been helpful for you? Are they like “staffing,” as one psychotherapist put it (“staffing” is when clinicians in a group practice debrief each other on their clients’ issues so that they can cover for their fellow practitioners.)?
What role does social capital (connections, networks) play in literary success? Have you benefited from it or struggled without it?
I used to think not having the money and the MFA would be a detriment creatively, but I’ve learned that those credentials are [not] the only things that matter. The work matters. The creative process matters. I also think connections and networks are an important part of what it means to be human, never mind just literary success. Without connections to other people, how can we process the world around us or interact with it.
I remember when I read at the first DiVerse Gaithersburg (which wasn’t called that until later), created by Lucinda Marshall, in 2017. I was terrified. But I met so many fine poets: Gregory Luce, Donald Illich, Katherine E. Young, Leeya Mehta, and others. It’s where I started to see that my work could be understood and well received by others.
LtoR: Lucinda Marshall, Leeya Mehta, Katherine E. Young, Gregory Luce, Donald Illich, Marysol Hohl, Serena Agusto-Cox at DiVerse Gaitherburg
There has to be a connection to someone or something that propels us forward. These networks can help us in many unexpected ways. But it’s also about what you give to others that can come back to you later. Expectation also needs to take a back seat. If you’re expecting something, then you really aren’t connecting. Connection strengthens each of us, and we all should be providing support to one another.
Serena Agusto-Cox reading at Kensington Day of the Book
Craft and Technique:
Two challenges of the narrative writer are both how to enter the consciousness of a character or poem and how to communicate their emotional or physical state in 3-dimensional ways that are not trite or clichéd.
How do you enter your characters’ (or poem’s) subjectivity? What does that process look like? Do you prefer certain points of view in your writing—first person, close third, etc.? How do you handle multiple or alternative POVs?
Poems are fun little creative pursuits in themselves. They have a point of view, which can be the poet or another person, and in many cases, they are their own self-contained world. I don’t have a preferred entry point unless you count an image. Sometimes a poem begins with a clear image that pops into my mind (usually at midnight or 3 a.m.) and then I spend time thinking about it and what it could mean or waiting for me to find it. As I sit with it, I am not writing, just thinking about it. At some point, the image begins to be part of a poetic journey in emotion, connection, or event. The poem will unfurl from there, and then it will sit before I edit, and then I will share it with a first reader and then a workshop. Finally, I’ll read the poem again and think about all the perspectives on it and determine where the poem needs to shift or grow. It’s a lot of thinking, which I guess is writing but not in a permanent way until it is in the document on the computer or a page in my notebook.
Audience and Reception
Do you have an ideal reader in mind? Who is drawn to your work, and why do you think that is?
My reader is everyone. At any time and place, a person could read one of my poems and be drawn to it again and again. That’s the prize. As a poetry evangelist, I want everyone to read poetry, to find the poems that speak to them, and to reach for poetry when they need it. Recently, I realized that I’ve helped someone see the power of poetry by simply bringing more poetry to the Gaithersburg Book Festival. That’s the reader we all can be.
Final Thoughts, Advice & What’s Next
Do you have other final thoughts—inspirations, aggravations, practices? What advice do you have for other writers and artists on how to sustain their creative practice?
My advice is to write because you must. You can’t rely on others to motivate you and you can’t rely on others to hold you up when rejection inevitably happens. Writing is a process. That means reading others’ work, learning from other art forms, writing and editing your own work, sharing it with others, creating connections, and rewriting your work. Creativity is only as vivid as the steps you take to feed it. Art is food, painting, weaving, writing, photography, and so many things. If one art form isn’t working, try another. If you find other art you love but can’t create yourself, support those who can. Creating connections with other artists is how you can develop your own art. Perseverance and grace are necessary, especially for people who create and share it.
What’s next for you? Where can readers find out more about you and your coming activities?
I’m hoping to share my poetry at some other local readings, but I’m always at events where other poets are. I’ll be at the Gaithersburg Book Festival on May 16. I’ll be reading at Kensington Row on June 20 at 2 p.m. You can read more on my Substack:
Or check out Poetic Book Tours and who I’ve been helping with their books:
https://poeticbooktours.wordpress.com/
My website is still under construction, but will be at
https://savvyverseandwit.com
Poetry by Serena Agusto-Cox:
Dear Vovó,*
She grows every day, changes,
learns more. Tells me why
the bees buzz.
Would you see me in her?
She’s louder than I was;
I thought I was quiet,
a spy hidden in your Victorian.
She’s my shadow who follows—
one that lingers from ago,
a shadow that began with me—
Tagging along apron corners
peeping around screened porch doors
waiting for the smell of acrid smoke
to transform into fresh sweet bread.
If your home were still family,
she’d uncover its secrets,
hide in the roped-off parlor.
An unspoken game of hide-and-seek
with a shadow touching velvet wallpaper
pushing secret buttons and waiting by your chair
to play cards near your house slippers.
*Vovó is the Portuguese word for grandmother
Food Bank Deposits
Swim your fastest race, little one.
It’s worth three cans of spaghetti.
Each glide, each stroke pulls
in boxes of macaroni. Every 25 meters
a flip turn for the rice. Forget the savory salt
of popcorn as you dolphin kick. Longer strokes
bring tuna can towers, omega-3
fatty acids. Peanut butter smooth freestyle slices
of bread with jelly sweetness to quell the grumble.
Swim meet deposits bridge a community.
Thank you for this gracious interview with really deep questions.