Poet Interview: Jude Raed on her debut collection 'Cough Syrup'
Jude Raed is a Palestinian-Jordanian poet, writer and language enthusiast. She likes labaneh with mint on toast, collecting books and sci-fi movies. Her socks never match, and she finds it very weird talking about herself in the third person.
Can you tell us a bit about the book you just published with Sunday Mornings at the River?
If all the poems in “cough syrup” were to suddenly vanish and leave one word behind on the pages, it would be: “cathartic.” In a way, it is a heavy influx of emotions all poured out at once; raw, pushing through doubt and allowing you, dear reader, to find a spot somewhere between their lines.
(you can stay there for a bit, if you like.)
What inspired you to write this book?
Knee-deep into the Pandemic, all I did was research and read, read, read. From the beat generation to the Mimeo revolution to Etel Adnan to Christopher Nolan. (Sue me, Tenet is pure poetry). I picked up the poems I wrote back in 2017: my very first attempt at something other than dragon fantasy tales (which are awesome, don’t get me wrong). Started with wobbly words, jittery metaphors, some vague emotions only fine, teenage confusion could provide. I was reading a silly old book called The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa, and that’s when the entire Art Scene shifted for me. Pessoa writes in a way that allows words to breathe on the pages, have some sort of life on their own and, strangely enough, become the reader’s, in a way… Pure, unhindered self-expression suddenly made sense. I can’t really pinpoint where “inspiration” comes from.
I just wrote. And I loved it.
What does the title mean, and why did you pick it?
I never reread anything I wrote, never really edited, if the words were out, they were out.
It reminded me a lot of the times I refused to even cough in front of my mother so I wouldn’t go near anything that had the label “Cough Syrup” on it.
I had these poems piled up in stray pages everywhere, and every time I looked at them, I had the same Fear of what might happen if I were to approach them. ( do open the box, Pandora.)
So. Here ya go. A poetry book finally made out of me side-stepping artistic fear.
(I still hate cough syrup. I love this adaptation of it, though).
Who are some of your literary or artistic crushes, and did they influence you at all while writing this book?
Oh, man. Patrick Rothfuss. That dude seriously opened doors for me in regard to self-expression. Pete Wentz’s the Boy with the Thorn in his Side. Etel Adnan, Yeats, Pessoa, E. E. Cummings, who gave me the courage to write whatever the hell I want.
Gerard Way. Enough said.
Tamino with his ethereal voice of the Nile. SPELLING, the band. Alfa Mist. Pharoh Sanders. (I wrote a huge part of this book listening to Floating Points. Insanity.) And Shane Koyczan: the reason I started writing poetry in the first place.
What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your books?
I write best when I write about the things I love. If you don’t want to write about it, just don’t write about it.
What is the key theme and/or message in the book?
I never understood themes. (and I minor in English Lit; don’t tell my professors I said that.) Does my book have a theme? I think every poem I write has something different to offer, and I believe that’s up to the reader to decide.
What does "good poetry" mean to you?
If it stays with you long enough, it’s good poetry. Sometimes you just walk around with what I like to call Hobbit Poems, you feel them stirring in your brain: subtle; very curious; lightning wit. All Bilbo like. When the author’s printed “I”s turn into your own, that’s some damn good poetry.
For your next book; would you like each book to stand on its own, or would you try building a body of work with connections between each book?
Hmm. I feel like every poem I write is basically a continuation of the last. It never really ends. So whatever it is that I write, it either clears up the debris of emotion in what I’ve already written or just heavily confuses the shit out of it.
What was the best money you ever spent as a writer?
A library card. Books, dude. A film ticket. A plane ticket. Whatever form of life you can get your hands on. Art straight from the source.
What is the most difficult part of your artistic process?
Doubt, pretty much. Is that to cliché? Probably is. But I think every artist climbs the Mordor-esque mountain of doubt some time or the other. Getting over doubt is basically allowing yourself to get over the silly concept of perfection, and then you can really write.
Or paint or draw or dance.
Do you believe in writer’s block?
I do believe that when you aren’t writing, you’re thinking about writing (at least, that’s my experience). So basically, you’re already doing it inside your head, just not on paper. Is that considered writer’s block? I really have no idea. Just call it a day and go for a walk or something. The words will eventually come out, and if they don’t, I always look for some stray lines I’ve written here and there and try to make something out of ‘em. It’s not a smooth process, some lines you have to dig deep to find, ruffle up some feathers. (bring back some memories. But..).
Are there any secrets from the book (that aren’t in the blurb), you can share with your readers?
Look for the concrete poetry, the reverse lines, the-. Well. You gotta figure out the rest on your own, I guess.
If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?
For the love of God, just write even if you think you suck. Write. Write. Write.
Jude published ‘Cough Syrup’ with us. It is out now for you to chuck it in your cart and go on a wild rollercoaster ride of thoughts and experiences. Meet the book here.