Issue 5 Writer Spotlight | Holly Harrison Cline
C+B: Tell us about yourself, Holly!
HHC: I am a full time parent and homemaker right now, so my days are filled with the adventures of keeping house and keeping up with my one-year-old son. The experience of becoming his mother has been a huge inspiration in my writing these days.
When I’m not exploring playgrounds or libraries or the kitchen cabinets with my kiddo, I try to fit in as much reading and writing as I can. I love to read fantasy, poetry, and non-fiction (especially if it’s about food!). A lot of my reading these days happens in the form of audiobooks.
I also try to get outside as much as possible, especially to run or hike. My resolution for this year is to spend time outside with my son every day. We’ve missed a few days so far, but we’re getting out way more often than we would otherwise. Being outside has always been restorative and inspiring for me. I am happiest when I’m around trees, I think. I’m currently working on a novel that, in its earliest form, was inspired by a run down our local rail trail.
C+B: How has your relationship with your work changed since you first started creating?
HHC: When I first started writing, and for a long time after that, I was really focused on the outcome of the work. Any piece I didn’t finish felt like a failure, and only those I deemed “good enough” were ever shared with a wider audience.
These days, I am trying to think of writing more as an experience than a means to an end. It’s an experience that I am so grateful to enjoy both on my own, and in the community of a few dear friends. I’m hopeful that, if I continue to lean into the experience of writing, I can loosen my grip on some of the perfectionism and more fully enjoy sharing my writing, even in its early stages.
C+B: Share some details about your process for creating.
HHC: When I have the chance, I find I do my best writing in the morning, when things are quiet and my brain and coffee are both fresh. If I can, I try to focus in blocks of two or three hours, so I have the time to inhabit the work.
I often write in silence, though I love the hum of a coffee shop. Working in a cafe or library is almost always a productive time for me. It holds just enough social pressure to keep me from wandering away from the work, without being disruptive.
These days, writing time is precious, and I fit it in whenever I can. I have a routine of writing for ten minutes in the morning, just to keep up the practice. That time isn’t for trying to move forward on any particular project, but just to run the tap, to keep the water from getting too rusty. Often, during the day, I’ll take notes here and there on my phone or in a notebook—bits of dialogue, snippets of poetry—and then pull things together during a longer stretch of quiet time in the evening.
It’s been a challenge to adapt my writing habits to this new rhythm of life. Last year, I read Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert; in it she talks about falling in love with your creativity, stealing any moment you can with it, even if it’s only a few minutes. I try to hold onto that spirit.
C+B: What is something exciting that you're looking forward to in your life or creative life?
HHC: I am really excited to start connecting with other writers and artists. For so many people the past few years have been really isolating. My husband and I moved to a new town maybe six months before the pandemic began. And I’ll admit that, as an introvert, I didn’t really fight the isolation. If anything, I leaned into it. But I’m excited to start reaching out, to share my work and to see what others are creating. After so much time away, I’m eager to find new communities.
If my work was a meal it would be: These poems, and the larger collection they’re a part of, feel like a cup of coffee. There’s warmth, there’s comfort, there’s energy to them in the light of day. But they’re also what keeps me up at night. Sometimes it’s that jittery joy that keeps me up, the wonder and excitement. But other times, it’s that gut-burning anxiety of a mind that won’t let go and can’t rest.
On the other hand, my in-progress novel is just a straight up bowl of macaroni and cheese. It’s warmth, it’s comfort. It’s a treat for adults who need a break from everything being an adult means in our world.
I would love to be able to share my work with: It would be a particular honor to show these poems to Louise Erdrich, for two reasons. First, she authored the novel that I reference in “Remember These Things.” The book, Future Home of the Living God, made an impression on me, and I still carry images from it with me. I would love to be able to share with her how her work inspired mine.
Additionally, her memoir The Blue Jay's Dance, is one of the first books I ever read about motherhood, and it was a source of great peace and hope when I thought about the prospect of bringing a child into this world.
Some creators I am inspired by: I love this question! There are so many to choose from, but these are three of my absolute favorites these days--
1. Brit (@britchida) is an incredible abstract artist. I especially love their abstract diagrams, and the poetic check-ins they share with their digital community.
2. J.S. Park (@jspark3000) writes out of his experience as a hospital chaplain. I am struck by the beauty, compassion, and honesty he brings to raw and difficult topics.
3. Kelly Harrison (@kellyharrisonarts) is a fused glass and mixed media artist. I love the curiosity and joy she brings to her art. (She’s also my mom, which means I’ve gotten to enjoy a front row seat to watch her explore and create her artistic identity. Her courage in sharing her own work and finding a supportive artistic community has encouraged me to put myself and my work out there as well.)
If I didn’t work in my current medium, I would like to try: If I couldn’t write, I think painting is the medium I would turn to. I’ve painted on and off over the years, in all sorts of different forms: theatrical scenery, greeting cards, attempts to keep up with Bob Ross on a nature scene. Painting to music, especially, has felt like a freeing experience.
While I’ve enjoyed all of my various forays into painting, I’ve never explored it enough to feel like I could tell a story with the medium. I’ve seen some phenomenal artists who can, though, and it’s something I would love to learn more about.
My hope for those viewing my work: When these poems are read, I hope that someone feels that strong resonance of 'Yes. I have felt that. I have been there. I didn’t have the words before, but here they are.' It’s an experience I’ve had as a reader so many times; it feels like a gift to find words for an experience that felt so isolating or unspeakable.
I also hope that these words do offer a little bit of hope.
