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YASMIN SMITH IS a poet and editor of South Sea Islander, Kabi Kabi, Northern Cheyenne and English heritage. Her work has appeared in Overland, Meanjin, frankie magazine, and Island. In 2024, she won the Nakata Brophy Prize for her poem ‘Dawning in the Rivulet of My Father’s Mourning’ and the Gwen Harwood Poetry Prize for ‘The Burial Feathers’. In addition to her writing pursuits, Yasmin works as an editor. Her professional experiences include an editorial internship through the black&write! Indigenous Writing and Editing project and coordinating the First Nations Classics series at University of Queensland Press. Yasmin sat down with Birri Gubba Luritja black&write! Editor Intern Kyrah Honner to discuss the importance of championing Indigenous voices and creativity.
KYRAH HONNER: You were once a black&write! editor intern yourself. I’m sure for many, black&write! is an introduction to the world of First Nations prose and poetry. How did you find your own experience there? What experiences did you have?
YASMIN SMITH: black&write! has championed so much exceptional talent. The one thing I’ll always prize from the project is its spirit to keep empowering our writers and editors. I loved working with the brilliant team at the time: Ellen van Neerven was the Senior Managing Editor, Sue Abbey was a great editor and mentor, Katie Woods and Lara Shprem offered project support, and Grace Lucas-Pennington was my fellow intern. Beginning a career in publishing – especially as an editor – can feel quite daunting. Those early years taught me the value of mentorship and surrounding yourself with people who will strengthen your confidence.
My experiences at black&write! – judging the winning manuscripts, meeting the new writing fellows, developing a taste for what I like as a reader – felt like an opportunity to mindfully sit with stories. Alongside building an editorial skillset, my time was also dedicated to listening, engaging with empathy, trusting my instinctive reactions and being patient with the highs and lows of the work and authors. I really appreciated learning a lot of that before stepping into a full-time position within the bigger machine of publishing.
KH: You are also a poet. Was poetry something you were interested in when you entered the industry? What is it about poetry that appeals to you?
YS: Over time my writing found its own form. It naturally evolved from prose into poetry. I was never interested in poetry at school or uni. But when I started performing more of my work on stage at festivals and readings I knew there was something unforced in those moments. I liked the play of poetics, the push and pull of language at the end of a line break. The first time I read my work to an audience was at the launch of Melissa Lucashenko’s novel Mullumbimby, at Avid Reader. When I was interning at black&write! I took an excellent poetry course taught by Sarah Holland-Batt at QUT, and I began to obsessively dabble in different poetic forms. I love the surgical precision of a poem. I love the challenge of the line. Poetry is a place where you can hide and expose everything all at once.
KH: Your works have made an appearance in various places including Meanjin, Words to Sing the World Alive and Overland. You’ve also recently won two poetry prizes. A common theme in your poetry is a sense of self stemming from your family. Can you describe your process when it comes to expressing this in your poetry? What is the driving force behind your inspiration to write?
YS: I grew up on Darumbal Country on the coastline and my family has strong connections to many of the landscapes that seep into my poems. My most meaningful poems always stem from the people and places of my childhood – the coastal cyan skies, the big tidal moons, the saltpan. Those places hold memory. Poetry has helped me to archive. It has become a way to embalm parts of myself and my family history.
I often feel energised after listening to poetry read out loud. Some of my favourite poems are dog-eared in collections like Eunice Andrada’s TAKE CARE, Ocean Vuong’s Time Is a Mother, Sarah Holland-Batt’s The Jaguar and Theresa Lola’s Ceremony for the Nameless.
KH: As the Special Projects Editor at UQP, you also see the other side of the industry. How has that been? What have you learned about the publishing industry?
YS: I started in a junior marketing role at UQP. I encourage anyone to cast their net wide when applying for jobs in the industry. Observing how marketing and sales worked revealed how a perfect publicity moment can cause a torrent of success – it’s about positioning and timing. Every day in publishing requires problem-solving and being a good communicator. It’s taught me to trust my instincts. Eventually, I worked my way over to the editorial team, where my first big project was overseeing the First Nations Classics series. That taught me a lot about book production and author care.
KH: Did anything surprise you? Has it changed the way you approach writing?
YS: I was most surprised by how much an editor role sits outside the mechanics of the writing. There are many responsibilities separate to the editing process: reading submissions for acquisitions, managing budgets, briefing the cover design, overseeing the typesetting process, coordinating with designers, illustrators, artists and freelancers; managing production schedules, approving printer proofs. Project management is at the core of an editor’s role. Working in-house has changed the way I approach writing; it has helped to separate me from my writing and think critically about what truly makes a book work.
KH: The First Nations Classics series has been so important for First Nations writing and refreshes essential books that might have been gathering dust on the bookshelf. Can you talk about how that came to be and the process behind choosing works to republish in each series?
YS: As the series editor, it was an honour to go back into UQP’s incredible backlist and rediscover stories. It was even more special to reconnect authors with each other. We wanted the collection to explore fiction, non-fiction, poetry and short stories or novellas from a range of authors across different generations.
For each title, we commissioned a leading contemporary Indigenous voice to write an introduction. The people we commissioned reflected on the weight that respective book has carried since it was first published – how it influenced, challenged or connected with their own life. It was extraordinary to see the overlap and how each First Nations Classic impacted a writer who came before or after them.
Much of my work on the First Nations Classics involved the day-to-day project management: commissioning introductions, collaborating with Larrakia designer Jenna Lee (who creates the series cover designs), managing print deadlines, typesetting, proofreading, working with sales and marketing to push out a campaign that celebrated First Nations writing in a new light.
KH: What has been your favourite book to work on for this series?
YS: Swallow the Air – working with Tara June Winch will always be a career highlight.
KH: Why do you think this series has been so groundbreaking?
YS: The First Nations Classics series carries a lot of heart and history. It honours our past in a fresh way, and I’d like to think the series has helped grow a readership that desires to engage with First Nations writing in an honest and positive way. It invites readers to discover the old in order to better the future.
This piece was commissioned by Kyrah Honner at State Library of Queensland’s black&write! project.
Image credit: Bob Brewer via Unsplash
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