Sometimes the universe aligns and sends us the perfect book at the perfect time. After seeing a book of poetry set in Vermont briefly mentioned in The New York Times Book Review, we made a mental note to find out more. Imagine our surprise when we received an email in our inbox soon after about this exact book. It felt like a gift handed to us by a knowing friend.

The book? Laura Budofsky Wisniewski’s new poetry collection: Sanctuary, Vermont (Orison Books, April 2022). When we learned that Laura had published this debut collection at age 70, we were intrigued, but we weren’t prepared to fall in love. Fall we did.

The poems in this collection, which take place in the fictional town of Sanctuary, embody the voices of the land and people over the course of more than 200 years. Though the setting may seem bucolic, many of these poems directly confront the idyllic qualities that Vermont is best known for, highlighting Vermont’s troubling history of the KKK, forced sterilization, racism, inequality, and poverty. Vermont, “sweet-soiled” though it is, is rife with many scars. Sanctuary, Vermont takes a clear-eyed look at those scars and still manages to convey the complex beauty of our state.

Thank you so much, Laura, for sharing your book with us and taking the time to answer our questions. We can’t wait for book two!

We were so taken with Laura’s book that we were hoping she could join us for this year’s Poetry & Pie. Although she is unable to join us this year, she kindly recorded this video of herself reading three poems from Sanctuary, Vermont.

Literary North: Did Sanctuary, Vermont begin with the idea that you wanted to write about a specific place over a period of 245 years? Or did the idea for a collection come to you as you wrote poems? How did the structure emerge?

Laura Budofsky Wisniewski: I was walking down the main street of my town. As with many towns in Vermont, signs of commercial and housing development were everywhere, and I realized that eventually, and probably pretty soon, the small town-ness would disappear. I wanted to capture it before it was erased. At the same time, I felt that many (not all) of the social and economic issues of my town were mirrored in the U.S. at large. (It was 2016.) So I had that lens as I did my research.

As for the structure, I wouldn’t say it emerged as much as I wrestled it into submission. For some reason, I initially resisted a chronological approach. (Heaven forbid things should be simple!) After trying all sorts of baroque approaches, I settled on starting at the beginning and continuing until the end. (Who knew?) That helped me realize I had a story, not just individual poems. 

The decision to tell this story through the voices and experiences of characters, just happened. It’s as if, once word got out, these fictional characters of an imaginary town started lining up to be heard. That may sound strange, but it is how I experienced it. Of course, I did loads of research, but the characters, who they were, how they spoke, what they had to say, really did seem delivered. It was a little wild. 

LN: At 70, you’re publishing your debut full-length collection (following the 2019 publication of a chapbook, How to Prepare Bear). We adore reading “emerging” authors who are beyond their infancy. Can you tell us about your path to publication? Have you been writing poems your whole life?

LBW: Thank you. I am definitely beyond my infancy! I have been writing poems since I was a kid, just as a way to go to that place you can only get to by writing and I guess to have some kind record of my world. I just stored the poems in a carton, like old photos, and daydreamed about being published without actually doing anything about it. Then, when I was a little shy of 60, I had one of those if-not-now-then-when moments and decided to make a commitment to poetry. (It turns out we don’t live forever!) I took a few workshops and sent some poems out. Miraculously my first poems were accepted, which gave me the insane idea that getting published is a piece of cake. After those initial successes, the reality of rejection declared itself emphatically. But I’d had a taste, so I’d get a rejection, decide to never write another poem, then write another poem, send it out. (I hate giving up even more than I hate rejection.)

With Sanctuary, Vermont, I just really, really wanted the book to be read, so I persevered in spite of multiple rejections. I had some editing help from a terrific young editor, Caroline Shea. The book won the Orison Poetry Prize in 2020 (thank you, Luke Hankins and Katie Ford), so it took four years from completing the manuscript to publication. One nice thing about being 70 is that my ego is a shadow of its former self, so my delight at the book’s publication is all about the book rather than about moi.

LN: The first poem—“About Main Street. 45,000,000 B.C.E.”—deposits us down into the very core of Sanctuary and the “cataclysm” that formed Vermont’s terrain. Though not a collection of nature poems, this book is clearly set in a definite place. What role does landscape play in these poems?

LBW: When I first moved to Vermont, I couldn’t believe how much discussion there was about the weather and gardens. (I’m pretty sure I rolled my eyes.) But, in fact, rural life is dictated by what the land and Nature are willing to offer and what they’re capable of taking away. This knowledge is hardwired by history. Recently, the role of Nature and terrain has entered our awareness more broadly and dramatically because of climate change.

Right down the main street of my little town is the line where, by 450,000,000 BCE, two continental shelves had collided (in slow, slow motion). To one side, mountains were formed and to the other, a more fertile plain. That geological fault line insisted that some people would toil as farmers while others, in the hills, would own the water-powered mills. Tension. Division. Inequity. From the beginning, environmental issues have been social justice issues and natural upheavals have been existential.

LN: The poems in this book are in the voices of many different inhabitants of Sanctuary, spanning time from prehistory through the 19th century to a poem dated 2061. The voices range from speakers of many ages, genders, occupations, religions, and races. What research did you do to embody these voices from the past? Did you spend time reading about Vermont history at your local library or listening to stories being told by neighbors? Did you find any difficulties slipping into and speaking from such a range of different minds and experiences?

LBW: I did all of the above. I relied, whenever I could, on firsthand accounts from newspapers and, for the “Now” section, on audio or video interviews. I found some printed accounts of the history of my own town in our wonderful local library. I did interview a few neighbors, as well. Sweet Mr. Brown from across the road shows up in the poem “Bob Brown Recalls.”

Not to my credit, so much of what I stumbled on was new to me. Before this project I didn’t know that you could buy your way out of conscription in the Civil War. I didn’t know that in 1816 people in Vermont were freezing to death in June. I didn’t even know how it came about that Vermont had carried out forced sterilization of the Abenaki People. I didn’t know much about the KKK in Vermont, or what life was like for Black people or Jews or people of Quebecois descent in the 1800’s in Vermont.

Marginalized groups have been left out of history books. I couldn’t imagine perpetuating that exclusion, even though I can’t, of course, really know what it was or is like to be a person outside my experience. Whether it’s okay for me to speak from the experience of marginalized people is an open and nuanced question. I tried to be as respectful as possible to specific characters in specific circumstances and to find the intersection of my own experiences with theirs. I do have to say that I love all the speakers in the book, their resilience, their ironic outlooks, their willingness to show up for others, and their refusal to be in denial.

I believe that denial of the past is a terrible burden. Not only for those whose stories have been altered or erased, but for those in denial as well. I’m hoping Sanctuary, Vermont can lift a tiny bit of this burden.

LN: The poems in Sanctuary, Vermont confront the passage of time and the layering and repetition of history, cycles, and seasons. What questions were on your mind when you were writing these poems? What themes felt important to include in the poems as you wrote from a variety of perspectives?

LBW: Thank you for saying that the book confronts time. I hadn’t thought about that. As I said earlier, the book’s structure presents time as linear: start at the beginning and go to the end. There are two sections, “Now” and “Then.” Poems are located along a timeline.

But it turns out time is also cyclical in Sanctuary, Vermont. Not just in the repeating seasons, or recurring natural events like floods. Wars show up again and again. So do prejudice, exploitation, violence. But so also do kindness, compassion and our need for each other. And spirit, which is also part of Sanctuary, doesn’t express itself in the realm of linear time.

LN: Can you share what your writing practice is like? Do you have a consistent writing time or place?

LBW: I generally write in the afternoons (well, most afternoons) between lunch and dinner. I’m incredibly fortunate to have a lovely, brightly lit room of my own where I am surrounded by my books and talismen. I compose and revise on my computer. Because I am terrified of the big blank screen, if I haven’t already started a poem in my head, I’ll just start writing, something-anything, so I have text to work with. I love deleting. Once I’ve generated that something-anything, I get to clear away the debris and see what’s left. Lots of times, there’s not much, but sometimes a poem is hiding in those words. That’s the thrill. Right?

LN: Is there a book you’d like to recommend that changed the way you think about poetry or the world? 

LBW: I’m pretty sure every book I’ve ever read has changed the way I think about the world. I read Anne Frank’s The Diary of a Young Girl when I was 10 or 11. That book changed my world view. Profoundly. More recently, so did The Hidden Life of Trees.

As for poetry, certain poets give me permission. For instance, Jane Kenyon’s poetry gives me permission to focus on the small details of everyday life. Illya Kaminsky’s Deaf Republic gives me permission to let a book of poetry do what novels and plays do. Marilyn Nelson’s poetry gives me permission to travel back in time. (Uh-oh. I feel an overwhelming urge to list all the poets I love and am learning from. So many.) And Rumi’s work (I like Coleman Barks’ translations) is my touchstone when I get lost. Which happens enough.

Laura Budofsky Wisniewski is the author of the collection, Sanctuary, Vermont (Orison Books) and the chapbook, How to Prepare Bear (Redbird Chapbooks). Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Narrative, The Missouri Review, Image, Hunger Mountain Review, American Journal of Poetry, Pilgrimage, The Examined Life and others. She is runner up in the 2021 Missouri Review Miller Audio Prize and winner of the 2020 Orison Poetry Prize, Ruminate Magazine’s 2020 Janet B. Mccabe Poetry Prize, the 2019 Poetry International Prize, and the 2014 Passager Poetry Prize. Laura lives quietly in a small town in Vermont.