Everyone has a story to tell; each one of us writes poetry – some, without even realising. That stream of consciousness that runs in our veins? It’s poetry waiting to be written. We believe in the power of words, and that power is what urged us set up PoetsIN.

It’s because of those inner streams, that we are bringing you all a regular interview feature, Writer Profiles. An interview with a writer. This week it’s Montezino, Monte, or as we like to call her, Frodo. (Don’t ask.)

Sit back, grab yourself a cuppa, and feast your eyes on this week’s writer profile.


What is your relationship with words and how has that evolved?
I’ve always been in love with words; before I learnt how to read, I would pick up words especially in song lyrics and taste them. I would pronounce them to myself and stretch the vowels. Though lesson learned – Don’t ask your English teacher at the age of 7 what living in a danger zone, a lonely man a lonely child, means in Norwegian, nor your dad what does horny mean in Norwegian – The answer is when two people love each other a lot and GO AWAY!
How long have you been writing, what is your favourite style of writing and why?
I have been writing since I could, I guess. I remember the first time I started to grasp the concept of creating something beautiful was in third grade. I have a perception dysfunction so colours fade and turn grey at times (hence huge electric bills, I never turn of the lights). My hearing will get a bit jumbled (hence being told to speak lower at cafes; I apparently talk very loud).
I was looking outside the window and I watched the snowflakes fall. I guess based on theoretics, I created a poem that was somewhat auditory. Adding sounds, rhythm, and rhyme. Descriptions like the sound of the snow melting and the colours changing intact with the changes of the world. Contrasts between frostbitten cheeks and the winter sun. There is nothing as amazing as walking outside with ice cold cheeks and the winter sun warming your face as you step out of the shadows. I remember standing alone in my classroom smiling, putting my piece of paper in my drawer. I was all alone; the grey had disappeared and I could see the world in all its colour as clear as ever, and I realised I could create worlds more alive than reality can be sometimes. In all its magnificent detail. Magnified. That it could help me sharpen my senses and how poetry can force us to feel, smell, hear, and see.
My favourite writing style is modernist poetry as defined by the concept of the “shaken or stirred self” as seen by the author Gunvor Hofmo. (SHE IS BRILLIANT.) It is because I can be raw, careless, reckless, soft; I can portray the shaken self in all its disgusting, beautiful, intricate, ugly, and naked honesty! Even though my thoughts are sometimes infused with shame, I can somehow find some sense of pride in my words. I can cling to the bits and pieces of me that are distorted but still makes sense. Being able to jumble up my thoughts a bit and reflect through words, to be able to create something that might be of help, or might lead to some sense of epiphany or silence, or just for the sake of triggering some sense of happiness. So, although I sometimes might be driven by shame, my words will carry a sense of spine in all its confusion, darkness, nostalgia, beauty, softness, vulnerable essence, anger, desperation – you name it. Because after all, we’re all a bit lost sometimes. And I guess letting words linger there, to make them grow; being as honest as I can towards you and myself is where we can find a sense of recognition, and in that a sense of understanding, or a voice that speaks your emotions for you. It is also a portrayal of utter freedom. And finally, being a strong voice for those victims of abuse, saying, it hurts like a motherfucker. It’s a struggle at times, but hey, you did not break you were left with an ability to grow flowers out of concrete. Just raise your back, the shame is not on you and never will be.
Many of us have experienced times where writing has helped us overcome times of pain, describe the first time you realised the true of power of words.
The art of writing is an ever-changing experience; when I think I understand the depth of this art-form, new techniques or poems written by others, or ways of thinking, concepts and ideas, changes the magnitude of words and poetry as an art-form. Imagine. Its sound, sculptures, worlds, and emotional fragments of stories and experiences from millions of individuals. Perceptions and sparks between infinite synapses. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully understand the true power of words.
When I was little, I read a book where in one of the scenes a girl was lying with her face in the mud, because she wanted to feel how it was to be punched down in the mud. The reason was the philosophy that states to be able to write about it you have to know how it feels. So after that, I did a lot of things, like buying cakes and smacking it in my face, I rolled down hills on rainy days to feel myself gradually get wet. I walked around outside with a pen and paper and ask people questions about their lives and if they could tell me a story of something that made a great impact on them. You would not imagine how people would encourage me and tell me stuff. I never quit that habit. I would sit by myself and observe every detail movements smiles, and I would write about it. I was about 9 years old when that started. And I kept the tradition – exploring, doing things like jumping on a plane to different places, twirling a lot. Don’t ever stop twirling in the name of words.
Summed up, this one sentence and this girl lying in the mud really changed how I embraced certain aspects of life. To do little things, to know little things; making me see little things, which will be like tiny flickers filling me with life.
Many writers love to read. What is your favourite book and why?
Helga Schneider. Let Me Go – My mother and the SS. I have never been so torn between emotions regarding a character before. I still feel a bit concerned by this authors ability to make me love and hate such a disgusting human being in waves of what-the-hell! Which is good. I need to have my boundaries tested to examine myself a bit. Though being left like this for about 10 years, makes me feel like this is some twisted idea of pure brain cruelty. (I should burn my bra and scream something radical like: RADICAL!) So yes, I recommend that book.
Sum up yourself in a haiku or micropoem. I don’t want to be a well written piece
I want to be the wind that breaks the line
every gust of shattered truths
New perceptions well defined
We all have moments where we truly connect with words we read. What quote inspires you the most. Why?
They nailed love to a cross symbolic of their might, but love was undefeated it simply would not fight.
I read it as a child, and I realised if I’m kind and don’t turn to anger and resent, I won’t break – in the sense I hurt others in my pursuit of dealing with life, going down a never-ending spiral of anger, and actions driven by anger. Then I really became this being with so much anger, and having to work with myself through these emotions, and learning how to handle them (mainly driven by shame and resentment towards myself), this quote became clearer and clearer, I haven’t ever forgotten it, and I keep coming back home to it. I now understand the power of those words. And pardon my French, thank fuck. Now there is not one single day I don’t laugh so hard I almost vomit, or to such an extent that I once got tossed off the bus (yes you can get kicked of a bus for laughing to loud). Watching people smile, hearing them laugh with you; that moment people open up and you create a connection; that’s when the world is gorgeous and beautiful! So be kind – even the tiniest gesture of sharing a smile is more than enough – and laugh. Always laugh at least once a day, and all the darkness in the world will never be able to pull you down to such an extent that you break yourself.
Describe your writing process.
I look like a mad person, I hold my thoughts with one hand, I follow my impulses, and I can find myself on a 9 hour train trip for the sake of writing and sipping coffee over the mountains of Norway. If that is my urge – and I have the possibility – I have a very perfect little twelve-year-old I need to cuddle frequently. I may sit under the table or on top of it. I talk to myself. I do get surprised looking up, realising I belong to planet earth and not my Ilyena. I need the perfect song. And I hear poetry in my head as musical lines, which is when I most often find napkins, pieces of paper, receipts, whatever I can write on; storming into a shop begging for a pen with desperation in my face, and bowing in pure excitement if they grant me one.
Forget about king Arthurs sword! I can write ten of them in sixty seconds.
Writer’s block, real or a myth?
Real, it hurts – you will wither on the inside, your brain goes dull and slow. The world becomes greyer. Details fade, and faces don’t seem as intricate as they normally would. Though… stream of consciousness writing, music, and a clean house, forcing yourself to write what comes to mind for 30 minutes straight (yes you can write I love popcorn, and butthole) just for the sake of loosening those synapses of yours, might help. A day without a phone and social media out in the woods. Go for it! If it doesn’t work, you got the chance of breathing fresh air. I find it a win win situation.
What is your favourite word?
Conundrum – playing with the word you can create millions of conundrums.
Finish this sentence… Words are the epitome of…
my soul
That’s it for this week, should you fancy being profiled by the word nerds at PoetsIN, contact us!
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