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Janice Warman: "Poetry taps into the dark river of our deepest selves that runs below our lives"

  • samszanto2
  • 24 minutes ago
  • 6 min read

A chat with Janice Warman about her poetry book These are the things we have lost (Fly on the Wall Press, 2026)


How would you describe These are the things we have lost in one sentence?


An unflinchingly honest journey from a South African childhood to the landscapes of motherhood and love, a celebration of life’s joys, an exploration of courage, grief and abuse, and an elegy for what inevitably slips through our grasp.


How did you come up with the title?


It’s the title of the central poem in the collection, which is about my father. He was a difficult man, yet he loved my sister and me. One of those fathers who is great with his daughters when they are young, but hates it when those small girls grow up and start dating, because he is jealous of the men and thinks no one could be good enough for them. A man who bullies his wife, yet loves her. When thinking about him, I realised how much loss there was in my relationship with him: in particular, the loss of the relationship I would have liked to have with him. And how much he lost, too. At the same time, having emigrated, there was much in my life that I lost, including my relationships with my country, my family and my friends, and how my family and friends lost me. Once I began to put the collection together, I realised that it was the central idea of the book.




What was the inspiration for the book?


The inspiration lay deep in my life, as all poetry does. I write poetry most days, and when I’m not writing poems, I’m thinking about them. I’m the author of several books, non-fiction, young adult fiction and novels, where the subjects have ranged from feminism to domestic violence, to apartheid. But there is nothing that comes up from the deepest well in your life like poetry does. Often it’s a mystery even to me, until I’ve written it. Then I realise the inspiration is my childhood, my innermost thoughts. Poetry taps into the dark river of our deepest selves that runs below our lives, and which is both bitter and sweet.


These poems feel political, starting with the poem entitled ‘Mugabe’, and even the ones that seem more personal appear to be about power. Auden famously stated ‘Poetry makes nothing happen’ – do you feel that poetry has the potential to alter the balance of power in people’s lives? And what is its role if not?


I am not sure I can claim that my poetry can alter the balance of power in people’s lives – but I certainly feel that poetry can. I don’t agree with Auden! I think certain poems, like some songs, can become anthems or political statements. ‘Mugabe’, for example, is on one level about a dictator who devastated his own country, and on another level a poem about your average abuser. I think poetry is political, and politics is not only about the balance of power in countries, but in families and between couples.


How did you structure the pieces?


I’m not a fan of form, though I am fond of a tercet! I write free verse, and see where I feel the stanza breaks should fall. Often the lines do fall into tercets; it seems natural to me. In terms of style, I like my poems to be direct and conversational. Unlike many of my poet friends, I am not drawn to writing beautiful forms like the sonnet or the villanelle. And I’m not sure I’ve ever written a concrete poem. That’s not to say I would never attempt them.


How does form interact with content in the book?


I would refer you to the answer above; I let the sense, the rhythm, the words, lead me.


How did you decide on a publisher?


I’d heard good things about Fly on the Wall Press and Isabelle Kenyon, who is a dynamic, talented and tireless publisher, and had followed her work for a while. I’d heard there was an open submission period and I decided to send in my manuscript.


How long did the book take to write?


A long time! Although I loved poetry and wrote it constantly, I was almost always writing something else – as a financial journalist, first national journalism, later magazine articles, YA fiction and non-fiction. I was bad at prioritising my poetry, although I had poems published in magazines here and abroad and even in English textbooks in South Africa. I kept writing poetry, but all too often, I was simply busy with publishing deadlines for my other books and completely failed to make work of sending my poems out to magazines, competitions and indeed publishers! It was my sister Gail who encouraged me to put a manuscript together, as

she felt poetry was the best of my writing. And that’s why the book is dedicated to her.


Which poets inspire your work?


It’s a very widely based selection – the kind people like to call ‘eclectic’ – and includes but is not confined to Ella Frears, who I met when she judged our members’ competition at the Kent & Sussex Poetry Society, whose poetry I really love; Louis MacNeice, who for me surpasses Auden; I began as a child with his better-known, anthologised poems such as 'Meeting Point' and 'Snow', and now the fat, collected MacNeice is behind me on the shelf as I sit at my desk, often picked up and enjoyed. Maya Angelou I loved first when I read her trilogy of autobiographies, which began with I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, but now I love her as a skilled and passionate poet. Who could not love 'Still I Rise?' e.e. cummings is a fine lyrical poet as well as a Modernist one; as a teenager, when I first met him, I adored the lower-case lines, the weird punctuation, his satirical and ironic tone, and that love has persisted into a more mature appreciation of his work. As an adult, I co-wrote The Hey Nonny Handbook, The Literary Survival Guide for Women (Harriman House) – so for anyone who would like to see the many more poets who inspire me, I would direct them there!


I love that you have a poem inspired by My Own Private Idaho, one of my favourite films growing up. Are there any other poems inspired by films that you would recommend?

Like many people, I really love several poems that have been used in films – too many to mention – but if we’re talking about poems inspired by them, I’d suggest Tishani Doshi’s 'Ode to Patrick Swayze', with its warm tone, vivid imagery and shocking ending, and Virgil Suárez’s Godzilla-themed, exile-inspired 'Isla'.


What’s your writing process? i.e., do you work at a particular time of day / in a particular place? Do you need silence or can you work in a café?


I write absolutely everywhere, although these days I am often at my desk, looking out over the fields towards Ashdown Forest. But for years I was like many poets, caught up in my day job, which in my case was as a national journalist, commuting four hours a day, often travelling abroad. It didn’t stop me, though. I wrote on the train, while eating out alone, or over a coffee in a café. I especially love writing in my head while riding. I love writing on airplanes, particularly when travelling alone. There’s something special about that time between take-off and landing; it’s a kind of liminal space that opens the mind and the heart to let in new ideas, new lines. It’s a bit like that time very late at night, in a quiet house. No one needs you, so you are free to create.


How is the book similar or different to what you’ve written before?


I would say there are similarities in theme, if not form. This is my first full poetry collection – aside from a slim poetic and photographic tribute to my mother called Ballet (Susak Press/Spiralbound). I’ve written two non-fiction books, The Hey Nonny Handbook, mentioned above, which was a feminist book about how literature (and friendship!) can help women; and Class of ’79 (Jacana), which was the story of three of my fellow journalism students in South Africa who risked their lives to destroy apartheid, and were captured, tortured, and in one case, imprisoned for life. (Happily, on her release, Marion Sparg helped Nelson Mandela to write the new constitution). The US edition of my YA novel The World Beneath (Walker Books/Candlewick Press), about a boy who rescues a freedom fighter in apartheid South Africa, was a winner in the Children’s Africana Book Awards, and endorsed by Amnesty International. I have two novels, The Escapist, a domestic violence themed revenge thriller, and The Girl in the Telescope, about a young girl on the run from her kidnapper, in search of her abused mother, which are about to go out on query. These books and my new poetry collection have themes in common – feminism, justice, gender-based violence, apartheid, women’s friendship, grief, memory.


Have you any readings or other events planned to promote the book?


- Red Wheelbarrow Poetry Collective Zoom reading, 12th March, 5.30pm UK time

Instagram - @redwheelbarrowpoetrycollective

- Poetry Bath blog interview – March, broadcast date to follow

- Poetry reading at The Queen’s Arms, Cowden Pound, Kent TN8 5NP– 6.30pm, April 30th

- The Tunbridge Wells Literary Festival, May 2nd [https://www.twlf.co.uk/]


Further details on Facebook/Instagram/Threads/BlueSky @janicewarman/@janicewarmanwrites


Buy the book here:


Suzi Feay's review of These are the things we have lost in the FT
Suzi Feay's review of These are the things we have lost in the FT

 
 
 
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