Addie
Scoggin, age 24, is an adjunct English instructor in Southeast
Missouri who enjoys all levels of adventure across the globe. She
finds her greatest pleasure when teaching English collides with
exotic travels; thus, in her downtime, you can find this avid kayaker
floating down the muddy, spring-fed rivers of the Midwest.
Literary Juice: “Curiosity” is your first
poem published with Literary Juice. Can you tell us about the
inspiration for composing this piece? How long did it take you to
develop its form? What techniques, if any, did you employ as a guide?
Addie Scoggin: Liz Gilbert, definitely. When I wrote
“Curiosity” this summer, the initial draft came out in the form
of a two page short story. It existed as my response, or rather my
knee-jerk reaction, to Liz Gilbert’s book, Big Magic. The
concept behind her book was this: in order to live a creative
life, we must repeatedly “choose curiosity over fear.” I had
never heard creativity defined in this way. Through her book, I
developed a metacognitive awareness of my own creativity, especially
in terms of my writing and my way of life.
In reaction to her book, I immediately
compiled my short story narrative, capturing my feelings and former
creative limitations, and in a mad rush, I tossed the piece in my
Master’s thesis the night before it was due. But it didn’t stop
there.
I kept re-reading my short story,
frustrated with it. It wasn’t complete. So there I sat,
cross-legged on my couch until at 4 a.m.; and finally, the finished
product. I “smashed it,” (as I like to say), into a poem.
Now structuring the piece—considering
line breaks, stanzas, punctuation—that was more of a happenstance.
When it hit me, I had been sitting on my couch for a couple hours,
and hanging up on the living room wall in front of me was a map of
the world. It just happened. That was it.
I could make this into a map, I
thought.
Considering the subject of my Master’s
thesis, a travel memoir, this poem harmonized with the rest of my
work. But honestly, I haven’t created anything quite like this
before, especially format-wise. Thus, in order to perfect the form, I
chose a digital outline map of the Americas, allowing the text of my
poem to lay on top of the image, and I shaped the words, line breaks,
and punctuation within the boundaries of the map. The biggest
struggle was shaping North America, as it looked disproportionate to
South America.
LJ: How long have you been writing
poetry? Do you remember how it began?
AS: This is a fun question. I wish I had a
more impressive answer, but I had never written poetry until two
years ago.
I remember it well. It was two years
ago when I started graduate school, and I was thrust into an advanced
poetry class. Sitting in the corner, downright terrified of the
infinite brilliance of those warming the seats next to me, I
attempted my first poem. They were laughable, mediocre at best.
About the fourth or fifth poem I wrote
for this poetry workshop, I edged out of my shell. I wrote a daring
piece on the topic of “American Exceptionalism” and how it
relates to my two year relationship with my Muslim boyfriend. The
poem was meant for those who reduced and rejected my association with
Tareq, my boyfriend, largely due to American Islamophobia. And to my
surprise, I received some volatile and explosive reactions from
fellow students in the class. This allowed me to put my
counter-cultural views into perspective and reflect on my lifestyle
in the rural Midwest. From this moment on, I decided to play it
“safe” for the rest of my poetry writing in the class.
It was the worst thing that I could’ve
done.
I’ve since written one poem, and that
was “Curiosity.” Thankfully, I feel I’ve somewhat regained my
voice; after all, I remind myself often that curiosity trumps fear.
LJ: What do you do to prevent
writer’s block?
AS: I like to detach myself from the public
and, in some way, that produces better thoughts, better work.
Isolation works, followed by more isolation.
If I linger in that mental jam, I
remind myself that it’s not about what I’m writing or how
I’m writing, but why I’m writing. I write to tell
truth, Addie. Often, when I have writer’s block, it’s
a direct result of my fear to be original and creative. I’ve noticed, as writers, we’re
afraid that we have no talent. We’re afraid that we will be
rejected, mocked, or misunderstood. But I simply remind myself to
accept that writing is scary, and I don’t let it petrify myself.
Instead, I write to satisfy only myself.
LJ: Are you currently working on any
new projects? What can we look forward to in the future?
AS: My largest, most recent project is the
aforementioned travel memoir. Since my thesis was accepted, I’ve
added more pieces to this on-going project. I cannot wait to finish
this massive piece.
For me, however, writing is the
unscratchable itch. It hits me in the most unexpected moments:
driving, waitressing, showering. And naturally, the inspiration is
fleeting; if I don’t capture the thought right then, it’s gone
forever. Occasionally, I only record half of it and lose the rest.
Therefore, I have several piles of unfinished poems. I’m completing
them slowly but surely.
