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"It's easier to talk to the writer in me when I take them on a walk": Helen Mort on Walking, Writing and Inspiring

Helen eagerly uncovers a jar from her bag before we begin the interview. “It’s like I knew…like I had a premonition about the jar”, she jokes. Tucked away in a London coffee shop, we buckle down and talk hills and mountain, stories and sharing stories.

Have you ever climbed a mountain?
Yes! I’ve been walking up mountains since I was a teenager with my Dad, I started off in Scotland. When I got a bit older I started to run up mountains, and then became interested in fell running. This summer, I went to East Greenland on a mountaineering expedition. It was the best experience of my life.


 

Why do you enjoy writing about real people and their real stories?
I’m really interested in landscapes. But I think landscapes are only interesting to me when they have people moving through them. Through other people’s eyes, landscapes often seem to reveal more about themselves than through my own. I really like writing about other people’s stories but I do worry about appropriating their stories, I don’t want to be speaking for them.


How long did ‘No Map Could Show Them’ take to create, from conception to print?
A long time. I always feel like with every book you’ve been writing it all your life. Now I like to have a theme in mind for a book before I write it, and I take that theme forwards. I started writing some of the poem in 2012. So, I suppose it’s been four years in total.


Why, for you, is running, walking, or climbing such a productive poetic exercise?
It keeps me sane. I need things like this to keep me clear-headed and focused, and help me forget my anxieties. Running and climbing are healthy ways of doing this. It’s also about clarity, about shutting out all of the noise. When I’m moving through landscapes, I’m more relaxed. It’s easier to talk to the writer in me when I take them for a walk.


When did you first begin writing poetry?
Apparently, I started before I could use a pen. I used to dictate bad poems about trains to my Mum as a kid. I think I spent a lot of time as a child listening to the radio and so I got a bit obsessed with the sound and rhythm of words, their incantatory effect.


Can you name any poets or writers whose work you particularly enjoy?
At the moment, I’m really into Kim Addonizio. I saw her read last year and was blown away by how funny, bold and memorable her work is. She writes poems I wish I could just inhabit for an afternoon, they’re so good. Her essays ‘Bukowski in a Sundress’ about life as a writer are superb too.


Do you have a favourite poem of your own?
My favourite poem is always the one I’m not-quite writing, the one I’m afraid to commit to paper.


What fascinates you about Found Poetry?
I’ve always felt that truth is stranger than fiction and I think Found Poetry provides an interesting way of highlighting that. I get the same feeling sometimes when I’m listening to people talking on the bus. Sometimes, you put some found material in a poem and it ends up being the most surreal thing about it, people assume you made it up.


What fascinates you about height?
Vertigo.


Is there something particular you would encourage aspiring writers to do to induce creativity?
Listen to two strangers talking for the first time on a train. If at least one of them is drunk, it’s even better.


Can you recommend a walk?
If you have a walk that you do regularly, I’d recommend deliberately going the other way one day, trying to take a route you haven’t been down before. It doesn’t have to be anything dramatic, just a slightly less familiar street or path. Owning a slightly badly-trained dog is useful for this – they tend to lead you on routes they want to take rather than ones you’re drawn to.

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