by Kevin Pataroque

“These cicadas lie dormant in an incredible state of hibernation for 17 years,

and then in a massive flurry of activity, they awaken, swarm, breed, and die,

all in a short 4–5-month period.”

–The Cicada Syndrome

When I moved to the Northeast, I found myself expecting them.

At first, I thought they were just late. But one night, when I opened my

windows,

letting that coolness billow into that small studio, I realized I was alone.

In that silence, I would lie awake, hearing the air pass

into the pipes, the rattling of the bed as the wind blew against the tenement

building.

To spend most of existence in a state of suspension –

as the day passes, I wonder if, in all that time underground, they dream of

the earth

as one, long shadow. Even now, near the end of this current season,

when all the cedars are barren, the sky is cold and gray,

the colors of afternoon flattened into a quiet darkness,

giving the illusion that the landscape is surely dissolving.

Though we live above the earth, perhaps it is us, spending our lives awake,

who has forgotten what it is to emerge into this world, and, looking up,

stare at the sky, the stars, always above us, but for the first time,

visible to the naked eye.

Transitions, Transformations, and Writer’s Block: An Interview with Kevin Pataroque about Writing on Identity

Emily Rutzinski: To start, what does your writing process usually begin with or look like?

Kevin Pataroque: For my writing process there's times where I feel I like to borrow from other writers, and since I primarily write poetry, I like to read a lot of poetry. For me, I like to have fun with writing, so that might involve trying to gamify it. One of the common prompts I give myself to start writing is giving myself five random words and trying to include them in a poem. A lot of the time I start with free writing and whatever comes to my head, and I try to build that into a routine of 10 minutes of just writing and then taking whatever sentences or pieces stand out from that mess, and continue to build off from that point. 

ER: Do you find connections between your major at school/academic life and writing/creative life?

KP: Yeah! To preface, I am a PhD student in environmental engineering, so oftentimes people say that what I do as a hobby and what I do in my day-to-day life are quite different. But, I would argue that the intersections between science and creative writing/English are very much connected. I have always felt that a big reason behind why I am a scientist is because I experience a lot of wonder in the world and because there is creativity in the scientific process as well. Designing experiments or trying to infer results and creating writing both have a similar process of having a prompt and trying to explore something deep within yourself and gain knowledge of yourself. Both of them draw upon similar parts of the brain and my writing also focuses on what is outside in the natural world. They are surprisingly similar. 

ER: You start your poem with an almost objective definition for the cicada syndrome before diving into your personal and emotive poem. How did the symbol and connection to cicadas come to be?

KP: I wasn’t really sure what I was trying to get when I started writing this piece. For me, I found a really cool fact on Wikipedia and wanted to roll with it. I was going through a really big transition point writing this piece, after graduating college, especially needing to move to different places. I was originally from the Midwest, and it was a very liminal point in my life. I got the idea for cicadas and transitioned that into my personal life. A creative writing teacher I once had discussed how we relate to animals and how a lot of poems start off by asking a question to animals, about how we can sympathize with them. For me, the idea of emerging once every 17 years or finding something familiar in a place which is a little bit different and a little bit similar really appealed to me. 

ER: You use a lot of intense imagery throughout the poem pulling from a lot of naturalistic and environmental aspects. In what ways did moving to the Midwest and your experience here impact your writing?

KP:  For me, moving has been a lot of different experiences. Something that I am constantly surprised about when I move to different geographical locations in the U.S. is how vast the U.S. is. Something I’ve been reflecting on lately is the idea of naming things and what does it mean when we evoke different names of certain animals or certain plants. With moving, it can be an exciting moment in your life, but also a terrifying moment of transition. In those moments, where we are often trapped between moving from one instance to the next, I think that we enter this gray-zone of looking towards an inaccessible past and staying grounded in the present. 

ER: When do you find time to write or how do you decide what to write about? 

KP: When I was an undergraduate and when I was in high school writing was a lot easier for me. It's strange that the older you get the fewer pieces you turn out, at least for me. I think the best way to get out of writer’s block is to just start writing. The act of writing itself is what makes you a writer, and writing itself is practice you can cultivate just by taking a couple of minutes out of your day with some type of writing exercise. Even more important than that to me is the act of listening and observing the world around you. Back in my undergraduate, I was so excited to get better at writing that I turned out a lot of really bad pieces, just because I wanted more practice. Better writing comes with better reading and better experiences that you put yourself into and that you can draw upon. Writing is a practice of looking at yourself in a mirror and drawing deep insights about that. A lot of my writing is grounded in identity and experience and memory. 

ER: What advice do you have to other authors wanting to write or submit their own work?

KP: Barstow & Grand is the first literary publication outside of undergraduate publications that I have submitted to, which was a really cool opportunity for me. I would say for young writers, like you or me, it can seem intimidating to submit or publish to literary magazines that aren’t undergraduate specific, but I think it's a really great learning experience. Just the experience of putting yourself out there and submitting work is immensely helpful in itself. My other advice for writing would be that it's very helpful to write with other people and to build a routine. Tell yourself you’re going to write for X amount of minutes per day, and I probably sound like a scientist saying this, but you’re going to improve if you work at it every single day. Give yourself some type of guidelines or goals to reach; if you’re a nonfiction writer, a new chapter or if you’re a poet, a new piece. Find other people who motivate you and other people you can learn from.