The last poem I wrote for the collection was finished in February of this year. It's called Something More Romantic, and it's about my best friend. It looks at our friendship – and friendship in general – as something not to be taken for granted, because things can shift so easily without warning. Although it didn't end up as the final piece in the collection, it felt like the perfect end to my journey with the book, because it's also the only poem that looks towards the future. So much of my work is rooted in the past, so there was something significant about closing on that note.
Was there a poem that felt like the final piece?
As soon as I wrote Waiting Room, I knew it had to be the final piece. It's about childhood, specifically my own. I feel like I spent so much of mine just waiting to grow up, and the poem was, in many ways, me coming to terms with that. While there are a few other poems set during childhood in the last chapter, the others are either written through rose-tinted glasses or from a distance. Waiting Room feels like the most honest reckoning with it – so I wanted to end by going back.
The chapters were structured thematically. The first, Bodies, is the most confrontational — it's about coming to terms with sexuality, and all the complexity and vulnerability that can accompany that. The second, Hunger, is about a search for identity, while the third, Breath, is about finding peace and in many ways, a return to childhood. I always described the collection as a coming-of-age set during post-adolescence, so naturally, since it's drawn from my own journey, the chapters follow a roughly chronological arc, with a few exceptions.
The majority of the poems in Bodies, for instance, I wrote when I was twenty, and I think you can see that in the work – not because they're particularly juvenile pieces, at least I hope not – but because at that point I was far less sure of myself, and I think that uncertainty comes through. In contrast, Breath is much more playful, and I think it's a real reflection of where I’ve been for a while now.
You collaborated with give illustrators, including Imogen Poots. How did you pair poems with artists. and how much creative freedom did you give them?
I spoke to each of the artists first, about the project and about their own work. Once I got a sense of their interests and style, I sent them a handful of poems I thought would particularly suit them and let them choose whichever piece spoke to them most. I feel like every artist really found their poem. You can see how deeply they understood the work, and that comes through in the illustrations. I feel very lucky to have worked with them. They're all extraordinarily talented. The artists are Nettie Wakefield, Sophie Ives, Imogen Poots, Emily Wilcock and Viviane Lian, who also designed the books cover.
Your Catcher in the Rye piece coined "performative male" before it went viral. Tell us more about that.
It's funny because this piece was absolutely slated by men when it came out – they were furious about it! The idea that a woman would criticise or poke fun at their reading choices was apparently too outrageous to bear. I wrote it well before the concept of the 'performative male' entered the mainstream, so when it did, I felt pretty validated. Now whenever I walk past a guy sitting outside a café with their iced coffee smoking a cigarette, and reading bell hooks, the completely delusional ego inside me feels a teeny tiny bit responsible.
There's a lot of conversation around young women writing candidly about desire and the body. Where do you see Garden Kisses sitting in that conversation?
I went into writing and creating this project with the intention of being honest about my experiences. I tried not to be scared of vulnerability, and to embrace it instead – it almost became a form of therapy and, I don't want to sound too cliché, but it was incredibly empowering. The poems about body and desire were less of a deliberate thematic choice and more just something I needed to write. So while I didn't set out to be part of this conversation, I'm really happy that my work resonates in that way.What do you want the reader to feel at the end of the collection?
Oh god. I just hope they don’t feel like they’ve wasted their time.
