The best editors are seldom as well known as the writers they edit. So readers may not know H. Emerson “Chip” Blake, but they will know writers who have trusted him with their words: Wendell Berry, Barbara Kingsolver, Mary Oliver, Rebecca Solnit, and Jane Goodall, among others.
Blake served as editor for nearly three decades at the nature and culture magazine Orion, and also served as editor-in-chief of the award-winning book publisher Milkweed Editions. Between those roles, he built a reputation for shepherding the best nature writing into publication. The Good Contrivance Farm Writer’s Retreat outside Reisterstown is happy to welcome Blake for three exciting events, beginning Sept. 19.
First, Blake will teach a five-hour generative workshop called “Writing Naturally,” with limited seating ($215 tuition, which includes lunch). On Sunday, Sept. 20, he will offer a bird walk around Good Contrivance Farm’s seven acres as a fundraiser for the farm and its mission ($30, to include bagels and coffee). Finally, on Sept. 26, he will offer a free craft talk titled “The Narrator in Creative Nonfiction,” accompanied by a free buffet meal.
Ahead of his visit, Blake agreed to answer questions about writing, editing, the natural world, and his spirit bird.
Q: The natural world is central to your work as an editor and writer and will be the locus of conversation in your Sept. 19 workshop at Good Contrivance Farm. What is it about nature that ignites your literary enthusiasm?
Asking questions about nature is one of the most direct routes to asking questions about the human condition. How we perceive nature, how we interact with nature, how we care for the environment, reflects everything about the way we see ourselves and the purpose of our lives. And writing is a way that we come to explore and better understand these ideas.
Q: At a time that nature and the environment face so many perils, can we really look to nature writing for solutions?
Wallace Stevens said — I’m paraphrasing here — that literature is the place where we can resist the pressure of the real and preserve our capacity to dream. We need solutions, but just as badly we need to the ability to imagine a new way of living, one that is kind and gentle and respects all living beings, human and nonhuman. Stories and the arts won’t solve something like the climate crisis, but they help us build the feelings and compassion and selflessness that the climate crisis won’t be solved without.
Q: In your free craft talk on Sept. 26 at Good Contrivance Farm, you promise to share how nonfiction writers can “create a version of themselves” to tell a more compelling story. Without giving away too much, can you explain how a narrator is different from an author in nonfiction?
We make decisions about what we sound like on paper all the time, whether we know we’re doing it or not. The way we write a letter to a lover, or the way we write a letter to an old college friend, or the way we write a letter to the IRS protesting an audit, are all different. When we write a piece of creative nonfiction, we are doing the same thing. Is the narrator jubilant? Is the narrator intellectual? Is the narrator anxious? The author (the person writing) is in control of the narrator (the person the reader experiences on the page), and that, in turn, shapes the material of the story. In my talk I’ll go into greater detail and offer ideas on how the writer shapes that narrator.
Q: You’ve generously offered your time on September 20 to lead a morning bird watching tour on the grounds of the farm. It will be a fundraiser to support Good Contrivance’s literary events. Aside from bagels and coffee, what can participants look forward to?
Mid-September will be a great time for a bird walk in Maryland. We will be right smack in the middle of fall migration and should see lots of neotropical birds – warblers, flycatchers, thrushes, vireos – that are on their way to points south. Granted, they’ll be a little less colorful than they would’ve been in May, but great birds on a wondrous journey, experienced by us in a beautiful setting.
Q: It looks like you’re involved with birds as much as you are with writing and literature. How much do these things overlap?
Not very much — they’re mostly separate worlds. My birding friends have a hazy understanding that I work with writing, and although many of the writers I work with are interested in birds, they aren’t nearly as obsessive about birds as my birding friends are. But it’s true that in my writing classes, I use birds in a number of prompts and writing exercises, and in all of the online writing classes I’ve taught since around 2020 we’ve kept a master list of all the bird species that the participants have seen. We’ve just gone over the 1,000 mark.
Q: Herons are my spirit birds. What are yours?
When I was beginning to watch birds in the 1970s, seeing an osprey was a big deal. Their populations had been decimated by hunting, habitat loss, and poisons. These days you can run into an osprey almost anywhere you go – they have made an amazing comeback. And watching them fly and fish is simply awesome. So I’ll call that my spirit bird, but I might change my mind tomorrow.
