Beyond the Watershed: Q&A with Nadia Alexis

Beyond the Watershed by Nadia Alexis is a hybrid collection of poetry and photography which explores the various experiences of a Haitian American daughter and her Haitian immigrant mother. Nadia previously contributed her poems “Cantaloupe” and “Letter to My Friend Robert” to Volume 70.2 of Shenandoah.

Can you tell me the story of this book: When did you start working on it? What were some of your preoccupations as you were writing it? How did you know when you had a complete collection on your hands?

I started working on this book around 2016 or 2017, during my MFA at the University of Mississippi. Some of the poems existed before I moved to Mississippi, but my process of writing the book began to take shape after I got there. As far as my preoccupations while writing it, I would say that I was really obsessed with water. Water as a healing force and a destructive force. There are also ways to think of water as a space by which we can travel willingly or be made to travel against our will. How it, and other aspects of the natural world can be a lens and mirror. And more.

I was also really interested in the idea of pushing back against this expectation of secrecy or silence. In Haitian culture, there’s this idea that certain things–especially related to family, harm or personal experiences and struggles–are to be kept secret. That keeping things private is how we protect ourselves. Or maybe it’s also about pride and dignity, or survival.

But those unspoken things get passed down. Survivors break those cycles by telling their stories anyway. These violences alter our lives in significant ways. It can take years of therapy, peeling back layers, and healing to get to a place of rediscovery or recreating oneself.

I think I knew it was done with the book when I felt like I had said everything I wanted to say, and the book was doing what I hoped it would do. But then there’s the idea that poems are never really done, and books aren’t either. That we just choose to end them. But we do so when it feels right. Ultimately, I’m happy with Beyond the Watershed and I hope people love it too.

This is your debut collection of poetry! What have you learned about yourself as a poet-artist through the writing of this book? Or through the publishing process?

I've learned a lot about myself as a poet and an artist through writing this book. One of the biggest things I learned is that when I’m making art—whether it’s poetry, photography, or something else—it’s often a co-creation process. With intuition, with spirit, with unseen other forces and subconscious thoughts and more. And there’s something exciting about seeing the writing as a collaborative process even though it feels like you’re working alone. Whether I’m in a room by myself, or out in the woods, or behind a camera lens, I’m never really alone. And through the process of making this book, I’ve realized that my ancestors have been with me the whole time, guiding the poems, guiding the photographs, guiding me, or even just witnessing and cheering.

Through the publishing process, I’ve learned that I really enjoy the marketing and promotion aspects of it. I’ve also learned how important it is to work with a publisher that really believes in your book, that supports you. Similarly, I’ve been reminded of the power of community. The communities I’m part of have supported me throughout my artistic career, and that love continues with this book. And I enjoy pouring back into them just as much.

The book is described as “documenting pain, making space for light” and there is such lovely praise for the book describing the ways it explores both trauma and transformation. Were you conscious of that balance as you were writing?

I was conscious of that balance while writing because I thought about what I wanted the book to do in the world and who I wanted it to reach. I knew I wanted all kinds of people to read it, but I especially wanted survivors to read the book and feel seen. I also wanted them to feel a sense of hope, too.

Overall, writing the book was transformative for me. And even now, years after I completed the first version of the manuscript, and a couple of years after it was accepted for publication I’ve transformed even more. And I love that. I love knowing that transformation continues if you let it. That I’m still becoming. That I can be grateful to the past versions of me who made this book.

It’s a hybrid collection of poetry and photographs. At what point did you know you wanted to combine media in this way? How do the writing and images work together? How do the two media allow you to express yourself in different ways?

I knew I wanted to do it in this way after I encountered Silent Anatomies by the visual poet Monica Ong. It really opened up new doors for me and I think that’s a reminder of the magic of reading and how it can inform the writing process.

Bringing writing and photography together felt freeing. And I think freedom is an important concept in relation to the book given the topics I’m exploring. I also think of the importance of Black women existing in photographs. How we can exist forever in that way.

And I think there are many ways the writing and images work together. Whether they provide a kind of pause, a moment of silence, or breathing room for the reader. Or echo the poems. Or make you think of spirit, Black womanhood, memory, nature, and many other things. I love that the reader gets to interpret them for themselves and I’m excited to hear what comes up for folks.

Is there a passage/poem/image/quote you feel is a good representative of the book as a whole, or do you have a current favorite? Can you give us a taste of something you’re especially proud of?

My answer to this could change depending on the day. But a quote that comes to mind for me is this one from my poem “Cantaloupe”, which was originally published in Shenandoah: “There’s nothing like the thirst of Black girls who believe in their own dreams.” It’s a simple concept but so much beauty, change, joy, and love have resulted when Black girls, including Black women dream and bring those dreams to life. Even when those dreams change.

I’m curious about some logistics: How did you come up with the title? What about the cover art? How did you find a home at the University of Chicago Press?

The title actually used to be Watersheds but when I went through the editorial process with my publisher, CavanKerry Press, my content editor suggested that I consider a different title. In response, I asked for some suggestions, and he gave me a list of some lovely options that gave me inspiration for another poetry collection I’m working on but none of the options quite felt like the title for this book.

Instead of letting go of the word watershed completely, I decided to keep it and expand it, which is how I arrived at Beyond the Watershed. It symbolized, for me, a moving beyond the experiences, memories, or places, whether painful or beautiful. In the beautiful foreword written by Evie Shockley, she talks about the watershed as a conceptual watershed, and in this moment and all throughout the foreword she really understood the vision I was going for.

The cover art was designed by CavanKerry’s amazing designer, Mike Corrao. The cover I ended up choosing and the publisher was on board with felt like the best fit. It’s a split image pulled from two images: “Study in Ivy” by Pete De Wint, and “New York; The Upper Bay From Lower Manhattan. New York Central System” by Leslie Ragan. I love it for so many reasons—the colors, the sense of place, the duality. It makes me think about the landscapes we’re made of and the experiences that make us who we are.

As for finding a home for the book, I submitted the manuscript through CavanKerry Press’s open submission period and they accepted it for publication. It felt like the right place because I really admire their values, how they show up in the world, and the books they publish. So submitting to them was a no-brainer for me.

Have you been able to tour or do any events—or do you have any plans to travel and promote?

I will be touring for the book all year and a bit beyond. I’ve been promoting the book for a while and I’ve enjoyed the process of doing so. But I’ve mostly been promoting since October when the pre-order link was live. There are many ways to promote yourself as a writer that don’t involve social media or sending emails, like going to an event and sharing a poem, introducing yourself to a librarian or bookstore, being a conversation partner for another writer’s event, publishing your work, joining a writing group, updating your bios on social media, and so much more.

I also have to shout out Lori Tharps who is the founder of The Sanctuary, a group for women writers of color who are serious about their writing lives. Lori’s 30-day self-promotion challenge helped me see in new ways writers can and do promote themselves often without even realizing they’re doing it. And we don’t have to rely on just one approach, especially if it doesn’t light us up. I promote my work because it’s important because me and the work are worth it.

Anything special you’re working on now or next?

I’m revising a young adult novel-in-verse and I’m also working on another poetry collection—while also making sure Beyond the Watershed reaches readers, and enjoying this beautiful journey of putting a debut book out into the world. I’m grateful every day.