Lauren Elaine Jeter
Oyster River Pages: Why do you write and/or create?
Lauren Elaine Jeter: I write because I was made to write. That doesn't mean I was born to be a great writer—that's not what I mean. Writing takes a lot of work. But it also just comes naturally to me; it always has. Writing chose me. Poetry chose me. I write to process my emotions, to find comfort, to escape. I write to thank so many people in my life, to show them the beauty that I already see in them, in a way I wouldn't know how to otherwise. Maybe that's why I write: to lend beauty, to someone, to anyone, to give them a moment more beautiful and bright. To share the hope that I have—sometimes, even, to remind myself of it.
ORP: What do you think is the best way to improve writing and/or artistic skills?
LEJ: To write, you have to read, study, and imitate. You also have to build a pattern of writing consistently into your life. You have to be teachable and willing to learn. And you have to come back to your work with fresh eyes and revise, time and time again.
ORP: Who do you consider to be your creative ancestors and contemporaries for your art and/or writing? How does your creative work converse with theirs?
LEJ: I have hopes of who I would like my creative ancestors and contemporaries to be. I look up to William and Dorothy Wordsworth for their innate ability to not just observe but abide in nature and write about it with specificity. In the contemporary world, that's Aimee Nezhukumatathil. I strive and hope to follow in their footsteps with as much grace as they bring to the page.
ORP: What books have you read more than once in your life?
LEJ: I'm an avid re-reader. In poetry, I'm often rereading Aimee Nezhukumatathil's At the Drive-In Volcano or Karen Harryman's Auto Mechanic's Daughter. With novels, it's Maria Semple's Where'd You Go, Bernadette or anything by Sarah Dessen.
ORP: What does vulnerability mean to you as an artist and/or writer?
LEJ: Vulnerability is everything. I've just completed my first manuscript, and it revolves primarily around my best friend's life and trauma that she's gone through—and the beauty that's come out of it. And there's poems like the one published here, about my brother. When I write about them, what they've gone through, and what we've gone through together, I'm always amazed at their bravery—and their courage to allow me to publish it. Their willingness to be vulnerable and to trust me with their experiences gives me the courage to write vulnerably about myself, too.
