Issue 7 essayist nominated for California Book Award

While Issue No. 7 contributor Donna Emerson recuperates from recent surgery, she finds comfort in a California Book Award* nomination for Body Rhymes, her poetry chapbook published in 2009 by Finishing Line Press. As she listens to the rhythms of her recovering body, Emerson talks to LAR’s nonfiction editor Ann Beman about bodies, Amish quilts, and hospital bruises.

AB: Tell us about the genesis of Body Rhymes.

DE: Body Rhymes was born as I wrote what became its final poem, “Grace Notes.” When I wrote “…her own body’s rhyme…,” I realized the body’s rhythms are what many of my poems are about—bodies of those I love or have loved, bodies in nature, in the orchard, bird bodies, bodies of water, my (social work) clients in hospitals, even Francis Ponge’s king reaching for doorknobs—the need to touch, to feel.

AB: In the LAR that will release April 1, you wrote an essay, fraught with emotion, about purchasing an Amish quilt from a farm in western New York. Give us a little background story to “Amish Quilt.”

DE: I grew up with Amish neighbors in southeastern Pennsylvania. I admired their clothes, hats, buggies and horses. Their community, and how it looked, next to ours. I was fascinated by their access to simplicity. They kept at some distance then, so I had the urge to come closer. As an adult I explored the Amish community near our farm, saw signs for maple syrup and quilts. Some Amish groups now believe that contact with “the English” is appropriate, within limits. That’s how I met Fanny. She made me question many parts of my life.

AB: Have you seen Fanny since writing “Amish Quilt”?

DE: Yes. We’ve enchanged letters. She’s made a second quilt for my daughter’s bed. I’ve seen her several times and plan to visit again this summer. Her “Amish Quilt” lies in my bedroom as I recuperate from surgery. I find myself patting it, admiring its pattern, its sturdiness, seeing again my last image of her girls tumbling on the hay wagon as they brought in their crop, father in his blue shirt, girls in bonnets tied under their chins, their hay field so large and rambling.

AB: How are the hospital bruises you said you could write a book about? Have any inspired stories or poems?

DE: The hospital bruises look like a long tattoo around my waist and arms. I wondered why they asked “if I bruised easily” before the surgery. Were they looking forward to this?

Yes, the “hospital stories” percolate inside me—those long, fluorescent corridors, nurses of every denomination, touching stories from the throng of people I met there, all of us walking the halls, following doctor’s orders, living between pain and hope.

*Presented annually since 1931 by the Commonwealth Club of California, the California Book Awards have honored the exceptional literary merit of California writers and publishers.

Awards are presented in the categories of Fiction, Nonfiction, First Work of Fiction, Poetry, Californiana, Notable Contribution to Publishing, Juvenile Literature, and Young Adult Literature.