Sarah Suzor — co-author of the recently published poetic collaboration After the Fox — has traversed a life arc not uncommon to most award-winning writers. Grow up in small-town Wyoming, daughter of a mother from a local family with lengthy-and-legendary community roots and a father from Canada who played professional hockey for the Colorado Rockies. (Yes, hockey.) Navigate childhood and adolescence and young adulthood in that small town, which could feel a bit microscopic at times. Hoop it up for the high school team and graduate, ready for the next chapter. Move on to the University of Colorado at Boulder. Study journalism, dabble in English and meet that one professor — that one person in life — who sparks something in you that can’t be extinguished or ignored. Visit California and instantly know that’s where you’ll eventually end up. Return to Boulder and finish at CU, then head back out to the West Coast and earn an MFA in Creative Writing at Otis College of Art and Design. Bounce around for a spell. Work, write and observe, learning and making connections along the way. Submit and get rejected. Rinse and repeat. 
Win the 2010 Hudson Prize. Publish a full-length collection of poetry, The Principle Agent. Cofound a small publishing press which specializes in chapbooks. Guest lecture at an esteemed writing conference in Paris each summer. Settle in Venice, California. Work, write and observe, watching the sun slowly dip into the Pacific at the end of each day. Submit and get rejected — but get accepted more frequently, as well. Rinse and repeat. Okay, so maybe that life arc is a bit uncommon. Fortunately for Sheridan Brand, Suzor’s arc brought her back through her hometown recently, and we were able to sit down with the 2001 Sheridan High School grad at Fulmer Public Library for 5 Questions. SB: You talk in another interview about the challenges of growing up and living somewhere small like Sheridan, where everyone knows everyone. Is the anonymity offered by living in a bigger place part of California’s appeal to you? SS: Absolutely. I feel I’m a very present person because I grew up here in this very calm place, and I’m so grateful for growing up with that pace of life. Wyoming gave me a center. But growing up here could also be really overwhelming at times. Most everyone here cares about sports and I was in sports – and it wasn’t because I did anything outstanding on the court – it was just the circumstances growing up. People’s intentions were usually good and you knew they were looking out for you, but you couldn’t get away from it. And then to go to Los Angeles where you’re just another face in the crowd is a total dichotomy, but it’s wonderful. Both are wonderful. I’ve come to truly appreciate both. SB: That is an interesting dichotomy because there are vast, wide-open spaces in Wyoming where a person very literally can be all alone, but in a large city one can be in the midst of millions of others and be alone. How does living in that type of setting affect your craft? SS: There’s something really wonderful about a city environment as a writer because everybody is so preoccupied with themselves – especially in Los Angeles — and how they’re either going to get to life’s finish line or how they’re going to find a place to sleep that night that you can seriously walk around all day and people are completely blind to you. In the city it’s an observation of humans. I can walk around and nobody touches me, nobody talks to me, nobody interrupts my path, and you can observe a lot that way. There’s a lot of survival that you become aware of, and that’s intriguing to me. 
SB: How would you describe your writing style and process? SS: Gosh, it varies so much, honestly. I really try to push myself to develop different techniques in each manuscript. But I would say something that probably runs through all of my writing is I use repetition to make you think I’m telling you the truth – or a truth – but then I’ll use those same words to negate what I told you before. I like to play with the balance. I’m a bit of an unreliable narrator, and I always am. As far as my process, I have to limit the time each day that I work on my books. I literally only probably write for three hours a day, and that’s it. I can’t allow myself to do anymore because I’ll go crazy. It’s such an intimate and intricate process. SB: What one piece of advice you would you give your younger writing self? SS: The one thing I don’t thing people realize is that there’s so much rejection in the industry, but rejection is never a thing to be afraid of. If you take it and manipulate it and manifest it in different ways, it actually works towards your benefit. I think that’s what people really, really struggle with is that they can’t get published and they’ve been rejected and it’s hard. It happens to me almost every other week, and it’s still difficult, but it’s nothing that should get you down, make you change your path. Being a creative person is the best outlook in the world. Don’t let it go because somebody does not understand what you’re doing right at that moment. All it takes is one “Yes.” That’s it. SB: Lastly, and this really is the most important question: What’s your walk-up song? SS: Wow, that is an important question. Hmm… I’m going to go with – you’re going to laugh — “Still the Same” by Bob Seger. I just love it. I love Bob Seger, I love his voice. And I always get caught at the line The trick you said is never play the game too long.
Copies of Sarah Suzor’s newest book will be available locally at Sheridan Books and Stationary the first week of October, and the writer will be featured at a book signing at the historic Sheridan Inn on December 22. 
