Reading as a writer's "true north"
author & editor Keith Pilapil Lesmeister on the power of reading to get unstuck, evoking place on the page, and not getting too precious about things
This is a Beginner’s Mind interview, a series that explores the intersection of mindfulness and creative practice. Zen master Shunryū Suzuki Roshi said, “In the beginner’s mind, there are many possibilities; in the expert’s mind, there are few.” This series shines a light on the practices that sustain people in their daily lives and open the path to new possibilities. If you know (or are) a writer, creative person, teacher, or practitioner with practices you’d like to share, just reply to this newsletter to be in touch with me. Subscribe below to make sure you don’t miss any future interviews.✨✨
I’ve known Keith Pilapil Lesmeister since our MFA program, and in that intense, grad school-esque way, my most vivid memories with him range from heated debates with
about the proper method for eating wings, to heated discussion about whatever lecture we’d just had on the craft of writing. Keith never says more than is necessary—in life and on the page. There’s a spare, spacious feeling to his prose, as if he’s opened himself up to the character or moment in a way in which he can access a deeper truth. Bret Anthony Johnston called his prose, “as clean as the prairie wind, his characters as dangerous and refreshing as summer storms.”I’ve followed Keith’s work since then and shared it with students many times as a model of how to write characters who yearn, characters with real voices on the page. Read on for a window into Keith’s writing and mindfulness practices, as well as a strategy for deepening a short story draft. 📓
What is your writing practice like? Do you have any writing rituals?
Coffee. Sometimes drip, sometimes pour over, though I’ve moved away entirely from the French press. No cream, no sugar. Three cups, typically. Two before noon. One afternoon.
Walks/Movement. Morning walks. Two-four miles, typically. Once or twice a week I play pick-up basketball, but sometimes I’m too tired to do anything after that, except eat lots of sourdough. Writing is an emotional output, and so is pick-up hoops.
Reading. I try to read at least one poem and one short story every day. It’s often more than that, but I find that the reading informs/inspires my writing. I developed that habit in grad school. Read one hundred books, write one.
What are your mindfulness practices? What do they bring into your life?
I think the three rituals mentioned above are a kind of practice in mindfulness as well. I try not to get too precious about things, though as a writer I have a tendency to do so. That is, if I don’t do the three things above, then, ohmygoshhowcanIwrite?
To answer more directly, I practice yoga at least once a week. This helps not only mentally and emotionally, but also physically: balance, strength, and flexibility.
What is an important mantra or motto for you related to your writing and mindfulness practices? What piece of wisdom do you have on a post-it note to help you remember it?
I don’t have any post-it notes or pieces of wisdom lying around, but I do surround myself with books. My office at home is where I keep a book shelf of alphabetized (by last name) story collections. Sometimes I just stare at them and ask myself hypothetical questions, like: if I had to choose one shelf or one letter (by last name) to read for the rest of my life, which would I choose? It changes by the day.
Most recently, I was stuck on the letter H: Barry Hannah, Ron Hansen, Alan Heathcock, Amy Hempel, Cristina Henriquez, Pam Houston.
In addition, I like this advice:
“Pay attention.” –Anne Lamott
“Write like a motherfucker.” –Cheryl Strayed
One of the hallmarks of your writing is how well you evoke a sense of place and landscape. What advice would you give to people trying to evoke a sense of place more fully on the page?
Part of this answer is simply paying attention to what's around you and providing a description (Is it simply a pond? Or is it a collection of farm run-off, polluted by an array of pesticides, happened upon by the occasional whitetail deer looking to quench its thirst?).
Another part of this answer is thinking about how to elevate land, setting, place so that it's another character on the page. And characters on the page oftentimes have one job: to apply pressure to the narrator.
How might that pond put pressure on the protagonist? Maybe the character's goal is to write weekly letters to the editor about the hazards of large-scale commercial farm pollutants on drinking water, wildlife, and soil. So when that character sees the deer drinking water, they aren't thinking oh how nice there's a deer drinking from the pond. Instead, that character is thinking: that poor deer is being poisoned by pesticides, herbicides, insecticides, and whatever godforsaken shit people put on the land these days so farmers can grow more corn to fatten up cows, create the joke-of-a-product known as ethanol, and more corn syrup so people can have cheap soda. Now, that character is typing at their computer and will soon fire off another letter to the editor.
Why? Because the writer has successfully employed the use of setting/land/place. That same person could be in Boston, but the conversation would shift from largescale commercial farming to something bothering a city dweller. Like, maybe, inhumane and unsustainable trawling practices off the coast.
What helps when you get stuck?
Anytime I feel slightly bogged down by a draft, or maybe not motivated to write, or maybe unsure of how to approach the page, I choose to read my way out of the slump.
Reading, for me, is the single greatest experience to help correct my writerly sails. It’s my true north. It allows me to fend off seasickness while traversing writerly waves.
Are there any books / writers / teachers that have been transformative for you that you would recommend to readers?
In 2011, I was thinking about applying to grad schools. Specifically, I was thinking about low-residency MFA programs because I didn’t want to uproot my family, leave my job, and otherwise move away from a town that I loved. Still love. While researching low-res programs, I read a book by a faculty member who, at the time, was teaching at the Bennington Writing Seminars. I read the intro to Naming the World by Bret Anthony Johnston and instantly felt as if I’d found someone who understood me—someone who understood how I think.
For instance, the first lines of the book are: "I don't believe in talent. Nor do I put faith in the idea of inspiration..." He goes on in the next paragraph: "What I believe in, as a writer and a teacher, is dedication. And stubbornness. And discipline." When I describe myself as a writer, the word "talent" doesn't appear anywhere in the conversation. I don't consider myself a talented writer, but I am quick to describe myself as dedicated, stubborn, and disciplined, and those traits have helped me to transform shitty first drafts into something readable.
A strategy from Keith
If you’re a fiction writer with a full draft of a story, try rewriting that draft from the POV of the central antagonist.
Keith Pilapil Lesmeister is the author of the fiction chapbook Mississippi River Museum and the story collection We Could’ve Been Happy Here. He's a founding editor of Cutleaf and a 2023-25 Rural Regenerator Fellow through Springboard for the Arts. You can find more info at keithlesmeister.com.
For more from Keith
Keith edited The EastOver Anthology of Rural Stories: 2023: Writers of Color
Interview at Heavy Feather Interview about Keith’s chapbook, Mississippi River Museum
Interview with Keith at Michigan Quarterly Review focused on his debut short story collection, We Could’ve Been Happy Here
If you don’t know Cutleaf Journal yet, go read a few pieces and subscribe. Keith is a founding editor (along with Walter Robinson and Denton Loving) and the work here is consistently outstanding.
Catching up with Be Where You Are contributors
Ankur Shah Delight shared this sermon titled, “What Is an Enemy?” I’m still thinking about it. This sermon and Ankur’s weekly newsletter are actively helping me to think in new ways about the divisions in our country and the larger world right now. I also recommend Ankur’s conversations with world-renowned mediator, Ken Cloke, about nonviolence, which you can listen to on his podcast, 10,000 Heroes.
Sharon Fagan McDermott’s poem, “Tuesday Morning,” was featured on WPSU’s “Poetry Moment” with Marjorie Maddox—listen here! (4 mins)
Nancy Reddy is in conversation with with
& Miranda Rake on The Mother of It All podcast about “The Rotten Roots of Modern Parenting Advice” and her forthcoming book, The Good Mother Myth. Link to listen HERE.- ’s Substack newsletter, Small in Real Life, is one you should check out and consider subscribing to!
Clicking the heart to “like” this post or adding a comment is a great and free way to support this newsletter, and help Keith’s work and wisdom find readers.
Be Where You Are is a newsletter about how to use writing and mindfulness to live more fully where you are. If you value this work, please text it to a friend, or consider a paid subscription (a few dollars a month) to help me keep it going. 🩵 You can also find me on Instagram or Facebook or find more info at my website. Thank you for reading!⚡⚡
“Write like a motherfucker” is something i can never get out of my head