#BrokenAsides with Demi Anter

When did you first feel like a writer?

I loved writing as a kid and was always really into poetry assignments given at school, like creating an acrostic poem for the word “SUNSET” — and I often wrote and illustrated my own picture books (I recall an especially detailed one about a family of tigers). Thankfully my mother is very artistic and encouraged me to explore many creative pursuits at a young age.

I took my first poetry workshop at around 12 or 13, but I probably still did not feel like a real writer until I was in high school. An English assignment led me to finding a poetry mentor, the late great Patricia D’Alessandro, who guided me through writing and self-publishing my first chapbook.

What’s the most interesting thing that has inspired your writing and what was the result?

My parents are German and Austrian and I was a first-generation U.S. citizen, growing up in California. We went back to visit my mom’s family in Salzburg often, which was an experience I learned a great deal from. I also registered a difference between me and my peers early on — not many people from my hometown traveled so far every summer. I realize now, of course, that it was a massive privilege to get to see some of the world and to understand that the U.S. wasn’t the center of it all. My early experiences with my Austrian family — and learning German — have both influenced my writing. Our family’s background was part of the reason I moved to Berlin at age 24, which is also the setting of my first poetry collection, Small Machine.

Paint us a picture: what does your writing process look like? Do you write in coffee shops at night or only on an old type-writer?

I like to write both by hand and on a laptop — I think you should do whatever feels comfortable, as long as you’re writing! On a laptop, the words can really fly, but by hand seems to do something different to my brain. It’s a slower and more meditative process, whereas typing feels more like work.

I try to write “Morning Pages” (Julie Cameron/The Artist’s Way), even if it’s just a page or some scribbles a few times a week rather than the three prescribed daily pages. 

I am very particular about notebooks — I do not like the hardbound, fancy books you inevitable get gifted at Christmas. They are too difficult to lay flat and I find them really clunky and awkward to write in.

Instead, I always use the same STALOGY B5 black notebook. They are aesthetically pleasing and it’s satisfying to have the same notebooks lined up next to one another. I think I’m on number three now. Before these I used to use a Japanese college notebook, which was the absolute best, but has been discontinued to my dismay!

And — I write everywhere. In bed, on the couch, at cafes, outdoors, at museums, at airports… Don’t get me wrong, I’m not constantly writing — but wherever I may be, writing helps me feel centered again.

Describe your ideal reader: who would your work speak to?

I think my work does speak to people similar to me — young women who have struggled with romantic relationships or certain family dynamics, or people who have lived abroad or have bilingual families — and I often get feedback along the lines of, “I could so relate to that! I’m glad someone has captured that experience.” 

However, I don’t want to only preach to the choir. I’m working on a project at the moment that speaks to a particularly female experience, and I’m also currently listening to Invisible Women by Caroline Criado-Perez. It’s an incredible book and I just keep thinking, everyone should read this. It explains so much that women have experienced but don’t have the energy — or data — to clear up for every person they encounter. 

I would love for my work to do something similar and to help create empathy, particularly among men, towards the female experience. Specifically, I am exploring the role of gender in travel and travel writing, as well as the pressure on women to achieve a certain kind of success via motherhood and family roles. In general, I think stories are an incredibly effective way to learn about people with experiences outside your own, as well as to gain insights about your own life and the broader human condition.

Who’s an author you’ve changed your mind about and why?

This isn’t exactly a 180-degree change, but I came back to reading Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan Novels last summer, after reading My Brilliant Friend years ago. I liked the first book and intended to keep reading but just never got around to it for some reason. When I finally picked up the sequel, I devoured it and then voraciously read the rest of the series without a pause. I absolutely loved them and am unspeakably impressed with Ferrante’s ability to capture the nuance of conversation, gesticulation, communication.

If you could interview any other writer/artist, who would it be and why?

If I could interview anyone living or dead, it would be David Bowie. He’s one of the most fascinating, creative people to have lived, and I will never get over the fact that I didn’t get to meet him or at least see him perform. John Berger is up there, too. I watched two documentaries about Berger shortly before his death, and he comes across as absolutely delightful company.

If we’re sticking in the realm of the living, I would probably go with Annie Ernaux or Laurie Anderson — though I would find both extremely intimidating to speak with. I can’t overstate how much I look up to them and what they have achieved with their work. 

What motivates you to keep writing?

Many things! Reading particularly good work by other people — like Ernaux, Anderson, Berger, Ferrante — always spurs me on to try to match it. When I’m working through a difficult emotional issue, it’s also a big motivator. I’m not writing with a particularly goal all the time but it is the thing I go to in order to process. 

I also love the feeling of digging into a new project and the problem-solving aspect. Once you’re in that flow, it’s very exciting and feels easy to keep motivated as you work out the puzzle of communicating what’s in your head and your heart.

How do you deal with writer’s block or being overwhelmed by the writing process? 

I have been working a lot on understanding “overwhelm” recently. I did a course of Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), which helped springboard the process. Since then, I’m realizing that when I feel like a project is too much to take on, I go through the same pattern — sitting around feeling stressed and frozen… sometimes feeling ill or tired. It’s helped a lot simply to stop and acknowledge that cycle. Then I try my best to make peace with it and move forward into working.

Practically-speaking, it has helped a lot to create a detailed daily schedule and to stick to it as much as possible. That means setting deadlines and blocks of work time towards specific goals. Now, I don’t spend quite so much time moaning about what I have to do — a deadline and a timer really helps get me into work mode faster, too.

Where would you like to see yourself in a decade? A creative writing teacher? As a best-seller? 

Ideally, I would love to have a chance to work on the TV series idea I’ve been developing piecemeal for the last few years, which has to do with my experiences in Berlin. I’d like to continue working as both a writer and a performer, and I hope my work reaches a wider audience. I also love teaching and would like to get back to it in the future by teaching my own courses, particularly in spoken word performance and for first-time, adult writers.

What has your work taught you about yourself?

It’s taught me a lot about how my brain works! I think a lot of being an artist is understanding how you work and what conditions you need to create in order to facilitate the best work possible. It’s a deep process of feedback, listening and analyzing, assessing what helps and what is unhelpful, with everything from how you think about yourself to how you treat your physical body. Since training in an acting MA, I’ve realized how important physical movement is. I get restless if I don’t have some regular activities in the week, like yoga or dance. As almost any kind of artist, what you do outside of your work feeds back into the work itself. It’s been a wonderful, albeit challenging, process to learn how to care for “the whole person.”