Kathryn Kuitenbrouwer is the bestselling author of Wait Softly Brother (2023 Giller Longlist), All the Broken Things (Toronto Book Award shortlist, CBC Canada Reads longlist), Perfecting, The Nettle Spinner (Amazon First Novel Award shortlist, ReLit Prize shortlist), Way Up (Danuta Gleed Award). Her short fiction has been published in Granta Magazine (UK), The Walrus Magazine (CDN), The Lifted Brow (AUS), Significant Objects (USA), 7X7 LA (USA), Maclean’s magazine (CDN), and many others. She is a professor of literature and creative writing at the University of Toronto.
Q:
How long were you in Ottawa, and what first brought you here? What took you
away?
I was born in Ottawa and lived there until I was five, when my parents bought a farm property near Metcalfe, Ontario, and built the home I consider to be my childhood home. I lived there until I went to the University of Ottawa, when I moved back into the city. I left the region entirely to live in Belgium and then, later, Toronto. I married and had children and we moved for work purposes. I am now divorced and living in Prince Edward County, Ontario. I guess I am a country mouse but I like cities well enough to visit.
Q:
How did you first get involved in writing, and subsequently, the writing
community here?
I
wrote my first stories as soon as I could write at age five and began to
seriously think of writing as a job during my undergraduate degree at U of O,
mentored in courses with the Galiano-island writer Audrey Thomas and the
Saskatchewan novelist, Guy Vanderhaege, both of whom did writer-in-residence
programs in the 80s there. It was Thomas who suggested I start submitting my
work to journals, in part, I think, because she knew how failure would be the
best editorial. I have endured a lot of rejection in my writing life and, for
some reason, it entrenches my belief that I am a writer. Obviously, I have
developed a complex about this, the knot of which is unlikely to ever be
unwound.
I
never really had much of a writing community in Ottawa though I did write for a
time with the playwright, Michael O’Brien and also with the sound
artist, Christof Migone, whom I’ve since collaborated with (along with the poet and
children’s author, Jordan Scott) on a project call Today
Calls, which
I am happy to see is still running online.
Q: How did being in such a community of writers shift your thinking about writing, if at all? Have there been subsequent shifts due to where you have lived since?
I’ve
written collaboratively with the critical theorist, Mari Ruti, who tragically
died in June of this year (2023). That book—about writing and living
creatively—is on submission. But it’s rare to find someone with whom you can
write together or, at least, it has been for me.
I
go in and out of contact with writers and artists. I often find I work best
alone troubling words until they make some sort of sense but, at other times, I
find I need people around me. I used to work exclusively alone at home,
swearing I could never work in a café, and then discovered, for a time, that I
could only work in cafés. I was part of an online group of writers for a
year or so but that hasn’t worked well for me lately. I have gone to
residencies (Yaddo and the Virginia Centre for the Creative Arts) where artists
and writers are banned from speaking all day but come together in the evenings
and talk shop and life. I have enjoyed that and found it productive. I’ve also
written directly online and written some good work. I like an audience and the
risk involved in that sort of exposure but, not always. I guess I find a style
or approach hard to pin down. I change and my practice changes, too. It’s never
one thing. I don’t think it has much to do with where I live, although, here in
this little village in which I now live, there really are no local cafés and so
I made a little room for myself with a comfortable chair and a place to put my
tea mug. That is good enough for now.
Q:
What did you see happening here that you don’t see anywhere else? What did
Ottawa provide, or allow?
I
have been so long away from Ottawa that I don’t really know about the scene.
That said, I recently did a reading with Hollay Ghadery at Perfect Books and
found there a beautiful, robust, and lovingly curated shop of great literature
so there must be a scene.
Q:
Have any of your projects responded directly to your engagements here? How had
the city and its community, if at all, changed the way you approached your
work?
My
first stories are almost all set in and near Ottawa. There stories are from
collected images and made-up things that I collaged into stories—they are
autobiographical in a funky sort of way. All my work has been autobiographical to
some extent but especially Wait Softly Brother, my most recent book,
which is explicitly so, about my stillborn brother and the psychological result
of repressing a tragedy that is so un-mournable.
Q:
What are you working on now?
So
many projects. A memoir in essays about coming out and becoming. A queer
coming-of-age novel set in my new environment in the early 80s. And poems,
believe it or not.