From Poetry and Poetics Centre

Interview with Tim Sinclair

by Cameron Fuller

Tim Sinclair is a poet and writer who has performed his work in venues from the village of Bangalow in NSW to the West Village in New York. Brothers of the Head, his debut CD, was released in 2004, and his debut novel Nine Hours North was published in 2006 by Penguin.

How would you describe your approach to writing? Are there certain principles that guide your writing? Are there certain effects that you aim to achieve?

Sporadic. Intermittent, inelegant, stumbling. I’d say that pretty much sums up the story so far. So far to go… I’ve had a few periods of working very intensely on a project where a way of working has emerged seemingly organically, and those were bliss. Thinking about the future (and this is something I want to do with the rest of my life), I’d like to try and get a little more deliberate, a little more disciplined. I don’t really see how it’s sustainable, otherwise.

As for principles, I guess I just try and stay honest to the project. Sounds simple, but it’s very hard to put into practice sometimes. I’m finding that out with one of my latest projects. It’s not that I’m writing autobiographically, but there’s a hell of a lot of me I’m putting into my writing, and that’s not always easy to believe in.

Certain effects… I guess I want to compel people. Suck them into this world I’ve created and get them living there, at least for the duration of the piece.

In an article you wrote for Viewpoint, you mention that at some point (about ten years ago) you ‘decided it was time to “get serious” about writing’. What triggered that decision? And how has your writing changed over time?

I’d just returned from living in Japan, I wasn’t coming back to anything in particular, and it seemed like it was then or never. I’ve perhaps relied a bit too much on a change in my physical circumstances to help trigger some change in my way of being, but that moment just seemed right – I’d been dicking around with the idea of ‘being a writer’ for years before that – it was time to make it happen.

Looking back at what I was writing then it’s clear that I’ve learned a lot of technique, a lot of craft, since then, but I think the most marked change in my writing – certainly the thing that allowed me to progress beyond wannabe – was simply the volume of stuff I was producing. Before that, a story was a rare event, so I was far too precious about it to be ruthless – to edit it dramatically, or to ditch it altogether if it needed to be ditched. Which most of the early stuff did.

Nine Hours North, your verse-novel published by Penguin, appears to be a resounding success. How did the experience of writing a verse-novel compare to writing your first poetry volume Vapour Trails?

It was much more… considered, I guess is the word. Consistent, perhaps. Vapour Trails came about very organically – it’s a collection of what I think of as my best over the ten years prior – whereas I had a definite end point in mind when I started Nine Hours North. Not to say that it didn’t grow and change as I wrote it, but starting with the idea of a whole in mind is very different to building a collection piecemeal. Easier, in some ways.

You’ve produced a spoken-word CD, Brothers of the Head, with fellow poet Ben Winch, and your words have been performed in film and on stage. Do you have a sense of an audience when you are writing?

When I’m editing, definitely. Sometimes, when I’m writing, but when it’s going really really well (grant us those elusive moments…) there’s just the bliss of being caught up in something and experiencing where it’s going. Very private, very indulgent, very holy. When it comes to editing, though, I’m always thinking about how it’s coming across. What other people are going to make of it all…

You currently live in Sydney, but you grew up in the Adelaide Hills and have lived in the USA, Japan, Scotland and Malaysia. To what extent does place influence your writing?

I’m impressionable – strong personalities, brilliant writers, vivid landscapes, frenetic cities. It all feeds into the mix. I do like to keep moving, to ward off complacency, but you also have to sit still long enough to write. I didn’t write much while living in New York – that city’s a wee bit distracting – but I’m hoping that now I’m away from the place I can get enough perspective to make something of it all.

While living in New York you worked at the Poets House. How did this come about? What was it like living and working there? Did you have a chance to read or publish your own poetry?

I definitely got lucky in the timing – the position came up soon after I arrived in New York. I applied for the job, I got the job. It wasn’t a miserable day. It was an excellent way into the heart of the poetry world, and I learned a lot about North American poetry, and particularly New York poets. We hosted readings from all over the country, and all over the world. It was pretty awesome. I did do a few readings myself, but I was more interested in checking out what other people were doing.

What poetry books have you been reading recently?

Jack Gilbert’s Refusing Heaven. I ‘discovered’ him in New York, and thought (and still think) that The Great Fires is one of the best collections I’ve ever read, which is probably why I’m having a hard time with this new one. It’s good, but just seems to lack that incredible depth of experience and expression that the earlier one had.

Dorothy Porter’s El Dorado, her latest verse novel. I think it’s her best since The Monkey’s Mask, with that same ability to capture a character in just a few words. She’s such a brilliant observer and renderer.

Alice Notley’s Grave of Light (selected 1970 – 2005). Another New York ‘discovery’. She’s done a lot of experimentation with longer form stuff, and this collection really covers a lot of ground, stylistically. It’s intriguing.

Are you currently working on a writing project? Do you have any specific plans for future poetry volumes, verse-novels or novels?

Yes. Several. That’s part of the problem. Let me leave it at this: one unthemed poetry collection; one verse novel (or was that prose novel?); one children’s/adults’ fable. They’re keeping me busy.

Oh yeah, and my current side project, the reader-defined story, 'The Dog Ate My Serial'. I’m having fun with that one.

The second series of 'The Dog Ate My Serial' is about to be launched at: www.timsinclair.org/TheDogAteMySerialMainpage.htm