I transitioned from reader to writer in midlife while living with my young family in Western Australia. When we first moved, the inevitable initial sense of isolation sent me scurrying to my comfort zone of the library, to load up on and re-read the books that resonated with me over my lifetime and to discover new work. At some point the reading process became immersive and intensely attentive. I started to become aware of not only of the narrative but setting, structure, character development, and dialogue- the joy of a character doing or saying something unexpected and the trajectory that follows. I am constantly amazed at how literary fiction reveals aspects of the human condition and examines life’s mysteries. It is an endlessly productive art form. I was particularly drawn to writers that are masters at complex character creation such as Tolstoy, Alice Munro, Flannery O’Connor and Flaubert. I developed an appreciation of precise language by reading Muriel Spark (who had worked as an editor), and the importance of humour through George Saunders’ work. The breakthrough came when I realized that writing isn’t purely an academic exercise, it is partly dictated by the subconscious, a type of day dreaming.

When I eventually tasked myself to write a short story, I would write a paragraph with no real idea of how things would develop, but ideas for the next step would emerge at a later stage when I was walking, having a shower or about to drop off to sleep. There is a sort of germination and unfurling if you let it happen. I was fortunate enough to have my first two short stories shortlisted for a national prize which provided a huge motivation to continue. But, in actual fact, after many subsequent rejections, I discovered that once you fall in love with it, writing can become a compulsion, an end in itself.

One day, I received a writer’s copy of a magazine with my third published short story that happened to contain beautiful contemporary poetry. It hadn’t occurred to me until then to try to write in that form. It triggered memories of the poetry I had studied at school. The condensed, musical quality of the form appealed to me. So, it was back to library to the poetry section, gravitating towards the spiritual, Les Murray, Ruth Stone, Mary Oliver, and Stanley Kunitz, mixed with the playful Wislawa Szymborska and Sinead Morrisey. I tend to write poetry that has a strong narrative quality- I still enjoy story telling- but has the added dimensions of song writing. There is also huge satisfaction in starting and finishing a piece of work in a relatively short amount of time. I am still intimidated by the idea of writing a novel but I never say never.

The opening page of my first collection, Alchemy, quotes Mary Oliver, “I tell you this to break your heart, by which I mean only that it break open and never close again to the rest of the world”. It sets the intention for the book- hopefully to move and provoke the reader by capturing moments of transition brought about by common experience- birth, grief, joy, moments of spiritual awareness, war, despair, and the influence of ancestry. The events which have the power to alter our inner chemistry.

The collection found a happy home at Turas Press and editor Liz McSkeane’s care and attention elevated the work immeasurably.  Anne Casey has said of Alchemy, “Poignant, witty- at times raucously feminist - and bewitchingly inventive. This first collection is a heady elixir of sublime poetry and captivating storytelling.” 

I’ll happily take that.

Alchemy can be purchased here: https://turaspress.ie/shop/contemporary-poetry-alchemy-by-fiona-perry-debut-collection-from-turas-press/