Author Q&A with Daniela Garvue

Daniela Garvue hails from central Nebraska but now lives in Missoula, Montana, where she received her MFA in creative writing, and works as a gardener and receptionist. Last year, her band, The Pettifoggers, released their first album, Small Claims, available everywhere. She’s been published in several magazines including The Bellevue Literary Review and the Tahoma Literary Review, and has a forthcoming story in The Sewanee Review. This year she finished her novel at her desk job, which unfortunately means she has to start paying attention to her work.

Daniela’s short CNF, A List of Missoula Area Grocery Stores to Cry In, Ranked, is featured in Issue #17.

Tell us about yourself.

I come from central Nebraska, but these days I live in Missoula, Montana. I moved here for the writing program, but stayed for the beautiful community I’ve found. Seems like everyone is moving to Montana these days, and it’s funny being from the midwest because no one blames you for being from Nebraska the way you get flak for moving in from California or Massachusetts. My place of origin has smoothed tensions at cowboy bars more than once. My writing tends to be place-focused, and I especially love getting to know the ugly side of each place – the abandoned lots, the trash in the weeds, the drain pipes. These, I think, are access points to the inner life of each place. So I do a lot of walking around, looking behind fences, etc. But the process of writing is so lonely and unforgiving that I often turn to music, which gives me immediate joy, even when I’m playing badly. Music also connects me to my family, who I miss and I wish I lived closer to them. My father was a great musician, but a terrible teacher. So he bought me my first guitar, but I had to learn on my own. He died in 2016 and most of my writing and songs are about him in some way. I started a band called The Pettifoggers with a grad school friend / accordion player in 2018, and since then we’ve been adding friends and instruments. Right now the count is at six members, with a potential seventh in the works. We just put out an album last year, and this year I’ve been writing new music and trying (mostly unsuccessfully) to get out of the folk/Americana genre. My secret dream is to be in a punk band, but unfortunately I have very rosy cheeks and like to go to bed early. 

A List of Missoula Area Grocery Stores to Cry In, Ranked is so creative. Of all the ways to express sadness, what was it that made you determine ranking the best grocery stores to cry in was the most poignant?

There was no part of me that calculated the poignancy of crying in grocery stores; it’s just that I realized I’d cried in almost every grocery store I’ve ever been to. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the time of day when I go shopping, after work, when I feel I have to finally decompress. Or maybe I just cry easily. Grocery stores are really tied to relationships for me – shopping with parents, with boyfriends, roommates. These relationships get painted into the whole experience of the place, so wandering the grocery aisles becomes very meditative for me. And as I followed this train of thought, I realized I had preferences. Like, if I go to X store, will I be able to cry in peace? Are the aisles wide enough to hunker down somewhere and hide? Will I have to interact with anybody? I was sitting in bed, crying from the most recent grocery trip, where I did run into an ex, and in a fit of sorrow I just wrote it all out as a dark parody of a clickbait article. I also wrote a song about it.

How has writing helped you get through your own sadness?

This is a really funny question, because when I first got into the MFA program here I was at loose ends. I’d just been dumped by a long-term boyfriend, I’d moved away from Seattle, my dad was recently dead and both of my grandparents were pretty actively dying. They’d lived right next door and had helped raise me. So I was really sad and I was writing A LOT to process that grief. Then, when I started going to school here, I met a bunch of incredible new friends and I had a new purpose in life. I called my mom and was just gushing about how happy I was, and she said, “That’s so great, Daniela. But are you actually writing? You know you always write more when you’re unhappy.” And I thought that was so funny and so true. I wasn’t writing as much, even though I was in school for it. I think that’s when I started playing music more. Because music, for me, stems a lot more easily from joy than does prose. So long story short, writing is one of the ways I process my grief into anything manageable. And when I’m not actively grieving, I do other things. I have more fun. But it’s all gathering material for when I turn back inward. Writing will always be there for me.

What do you hope your reader gains from reading this clever ranking?

I hope the reader gets a good chuckle out of it, but I also hope they feel some recognition of the strange act of public crying. We try so hard to avoid it, but often can’t. And there you are at the checkout aisle, trying not to make eye contact with the clerk. Anyone who’s been in a similar situation will feel some kinship there. I hope they feel seen.

How has having your MFA in creative writing benefited your life as a writer?

Number one is my cohort. I can’t praise them enough. I had the best class a writer could ask for – talented, generous, kind. We were all great friends, and after the workshops we’d just meet up and talk for hours. That was the best part; finding like minded people who share your peculiar obsession. We all read each other’s work enough to know each other deeply. The second advantage is gaining access to the nepotism of the publishing world. It’s an unfortunate fact, but one I intend to take advantage of. Having professors or friends in the literary community is huge for just getting read. For not getting passed by due to the sheer volume of submissions. You just have to use the connections you have. Third, the program taught me some very useful skills. I edited for the UM lit magazine (Cutbank – it’s a really excellent publication) and learned how daunting the slush pile is. The first sentence is really all you have to hook an audience. You have to make it count. Another skill: developing thick skin. I’ve become vain about my rejection letters and my workshop criticism. I try to love them. Of course it has its downsides. It’s much harder to get swept up in a book because I’m constantly evaluating it. I think part of your innocence gets lost in grad school.

Do you write the lyrics for your band’s songs? If so, how has honing your writing craft in the MFA program influenced your music?

I do! I write the music and the lyrics. I don’t know if the program specifically changed the way I write song lyrics. I try so hard not to think about the lyrics too much. The way I write songs usually comes from the guitar first. I mess around with some chords over and over, mumbling, until the words find themselves in the song. Once I have something that fits, I try not to mess with it very much. I think the spontaneity can be really beautiful, and can turn a song into something you didn’t expect. I like the surprise, and I like that music lives in a different part of my brain than writing.

What is your favorite form of creative expression? Why?

It’s impossible to choose! It depends on the day and what I am experiencing. I would say music is the most immediately gratifying, but writing might be the most lasting. I also love to garden. It’s very satisfying, both immediately and long term. I like to get tired. 

What do you think of when you hear, “The Good Life?”

I just think of long road trips as a kid. My aunts and uncles live in Colorado, and on the way back home we’d pass the big green sign that says “Welcome To Nebraska – The Good Life,” and we’d cheer.

I kind of like the slogan that made the rounds a few years ago. “Nebraska: It’s not for everyone.” It’s funny because it’s true.

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So true indeed! Each time a new slogan comes out, it’s like, oh what’s this now. Nebraska Nice? Good gravy! (Mostly only people from Nebraska say “good gravy”)

Thank you, Daniela, for being a part of our growing community and for spending extra time with us on this Q&A. So much of this is very relatable and we appreciate you sharing. We’re glad we were able to connect and wish you the best with current and future writing, music, and gardening, endeavors. And with whatever else life tosses your way.