March 4, 2024
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Mimi Herman is the author of The Kudzu Queen, A Field Guide to Human Emotions, and Logophilia. Her novel The Kudzu Queen was selected by The North Carolina Center for the Book for the 2023 Library of Congress “Great Reads from Great Places” program and longlisted for the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize. Her writing has appeared in LitHub, Michigan Quarterly Review, Shenandoah, Crab Orchard Review and many other journals. Mimi is a member of the Board of Directors for the Association of Writers & Writing Programs, a Kennedy Center Teaching Artist, a Warren Wilson MFA alumna, and a Hermitage Artist Retreat Fellow. She directs weeklong Writeaways writing workshops in France, Italy, Ireland, New Mexico and online. For more information visit her at www.mimiherman.com andwww.writeaways.com.
As people learned about your book, what unexpected things happened along the way?
The Kudzu Queen has brought the world to my door—and to my inbox—in ways I never anticipated. Since publication, I’ve rediscovered friends from childhood, high school, college, grad school and beyond, who write to tell me their favorite characters, to give me chapter-by-chapter updates on their reading, to invite me to their book groups. I used to go to the library and think: there are millions of books here, thousands no one ever reads, so why bother? To have people say that they’re reading my book—and loving it—is a gift beyond anything I imagined.
Do you neglect personal hygiene or housekeeping to write? Or vice versa?
Housekeeping? What’s that? Oh, right, that’s the thing I spend two days doing before I have people over for dinner or a party. Or the thing I do when the 
writing isn’t going well, and I need to create order somewhere, even if it’s not appearing on the page. I’m an overachiever, so the problem with housekeeping and me is that I’ll start out cleaning the bathtub, and end up replacing the plumbing. As for personal hygiene, you’ll be relieved to know that I tend to keep that up pretty well, no matter how the writing is going.
What writing mistakes do you find yourself making most often?
After all these years of writing, you’d think I’d learn to write a book in order, instead of creating an eighteen-foot smorgasbord of scenes and then trying to organize it into a four-course meal of a novel.
Why should people want to read your books?
I’m not a great advocate of “shoulds,” but I like the idea of people reading my books because I listen to characters with the same interest and affection that I have for actual people. My goal is always to understand who my characters really are, in all their complexities and quirks, and to help their stories live in the world in ways that allow readers to understand their own lives.
What do you read that people wouldn’t expect you to read? What’s the trashiest book you’ve ever read?
I’m a cyberfiction geek. Two of my favorite writers of all time are William Gibson and Neal Stephenson. Check out Gibson’s Pattern Recognition and Stephenson’s REAMDE!I also love mysteries. As for the trashiest book I’ve ever read, suffice it to say that yes, I read trash. When I first started writing fiction, I considered myself the original plotless wonder, and I figured out that trashy fiction is great for learning how to write plot. Or maybe that’s just an excuse for the fact that sometimes I need to crawl into bed and indulge in a delicious diet of literary bonbons.
Are you fluent in any other languages? If so, do you find that knowledge has any effect on your writing? Is it important for people to learn other languages? Why?
Fluent, no, but I learned French and Hebrew by the age of 14. I also studied Latin for four years in high school and Sign Language for two in college. Since then I’ve Duolingoed my way back to French and ventured into Italian. I think knowing languages can be useful in understanding how other people think. It’s not just the vocabulary, but also the syntax, the way people from different nationalities organize words in a sentence. For writers, having a familiarity in a second language lets you to consider the connotations and derivations of the words you use. Plus, learning a language teaches you to listen, an essential skill in writing good dialogue.
What surprising skills or hobbies do you have?
I love building—and rebuilding. My house is turning 100 years old this year, and over the time I’ve lived here, I’ve built kitchen cabinets and countertops, installed two sinks and three toilets, refinished floors, built a deck, designed and soldered a copper wineglass rack, and patched and painted almost every wall in the house.
Has your education helped you become a better writer?
Absolutely, and by that I mean my education at all levels. My wonderful 4th grade teacher, Miss Stevens, got me started with poetry. And my 6th grade teacher, Mrs. Williams, let me design an extra credit project, writing a book of animal poems.
In high school at Carolina Friends School, I got to do all the arts—writing, acting, making art, dancing, singing—and fell in love with learning. This made me a better writer and, I hope, a better teacher and human being. Throughout my professional life I’ve tried to make learning as magical for my students as it was for me.
In college I was lucky enough to be mentored by Max Steele and Doris Betts, who taught me how to write (Doris with her beautiful calligraphed “Don’t turn off the picture” in the margins of pages of unmitigated dialogue) and how to feel safe and comfortable in the presence of someone I admire (hours spent in Max’s comfortable office armchair, talking about writing and the fact that characters in student fiction never seem to have to do things like pay the rent or buy groceries).
And in the Warren Wilson MFA Program for Writers, I had the gift of four brilliant mentors: Richard Russo, Robert Boswell, C. J. Hribal and Charles Baxter. Do you have hours? Because that’s how long it would take me to describe all I learned from these amazing writers and teachers—and dancers! Dances at Warren Wilson were legendary, and have led—I’d like to believe—to a sense of balance and risk in my own writing.
How long did it take you to write your book?
When I first started talking about The Kudzu Queen, in podcasts and other interviews, I remembered that I’d been working on it off and on for a long time. Sixteen years or so, I thought. But late last summer I came across my very first handwritten pages—some of which are actually in the completed book—and realized I began writing it in August 1994!
Of course, while writing this book, I did a few other things: published a couple collections of poetry and a nonfiction book, designed and directed Poetry Out Loud for the state of North Carolina, became a Kennedy Center Teaching Artist, taught over 20,000 students and teachers, and cofounded Writeaways writing workshops in France, Italy, Ireland and New Mexico. But the book got its start, well…quite some time ago.
What’s next for you?
I’m currently working on my next novel, set in Ireland in the mid-1980s, which involves a young American woman just out of college, a missing child, and a drag queen named Holly Unlikely.
I’m thinking this morning of when my husband and I returned from a couple of nights in Calistoga, a charming town in California’s Napa Valley. Yes, it has its share of upwardly mobile types who go there to visit the many wineries. But there also are others who need to be replenished by the pastoral setting and many opportunities to take walks in the surrounding hills. I need that uplift today. 
For everybody except those hiding under a rock, it’s impossible to avoid AI these days. 
I’m grateful to Al Sirois, a fellow Regal House author, for sharing with us his writing journey. 
Since my late 20s, I’ve recorded my dreams every morning, curious about the wonderful dramas that unfold each night in the subterranean depths. During a trip we took a while back to Osoyoos, B.C., I got a better understanding of dreams and the role they play in our lives. 
I recall returning home a while back after spending time at a recently built rental home on the Oxnard, California, beach. It had a wonderful view overlooking the harbor and ocean. You might think I would miss the incredible views and location, as well as the house, brimming with technological toys. But I didn’t. It was a relief to return to our simple Richmond abode, built in the 1940s. 
As a young woman in the 50s growing up in Canada, I was intrigued by hockey and football. Baseball didn’t exist for me then. It hadn’t entered Canadian consciousness, and it would take some years before it did. But I didn’t feel deprived. Hockey and football had much to offer at that time, including handsome, vigorous guys. 
Being part of an on-line writing group for several years provided me with many benefits. But the positives also produced a few negatives.
I didn’t get to sleep till 1 AM this morning after reading a fascinating article about the assemblage artist Joseph Cornell. I’ve felt that in many ways, he’s my spiritual father. A-I describes his work as intricate “signature boxes, glass-fronted shadow boxes that serve as miniature, poetic theaters. Inside, he meticulously arranged collages and three-dimensional ‘found objects’—such as old maps, vintage photographs, watch parts, and marbles—to create dreamlike, nostalgic universes that celebrate memory, astronomy, and romantic cinema.” 
I’ve just finished rereading Henry James’ The Portrait of a Lady and have mixed feelings about the era and the characters. It’s difficult to read about Victorian morés from a 21st Century perspective. Not only do I need lenses that will give me a bi-cultural perspective, but I also feel squashed between a culture clash. Just after I finished with Portrait, I read a review of A. M. Homes’ book May We Be Forgiven in The New York Review of Books. One of her main characters says, 
In the SF Bay area, we’ve recently had unseasonably warm days, totally out of character for us at this time of year in San Francisco and the other nearby coastal regions. Most of us have been delighted to sit out in our yards at night and enjoy this new balmy climate. But then I read in the paper recently that the planet has been recording one of the hottest springs, reminding me that while I’m luxuriating in these above-average temperatures, the weather extremes are killing the planet. It’s a startling and disturbing statistic. 
