This week, we interviewed Aaron Timm (she/her/hers), who will read some of her work at the Helicon West meeting on 23 February 2023. Aaron is a poetry writer, but she also dabbles in sexy short stories.
Helicon West: Could you tell us a bit about your educational background?
Aaron Timm: I grew up in Southern Utah, and it was a hellscape of bullying and adults in positions of power who did nothing to help me. I graduated from Hurricane high school and quickly failed out of what is now Utah Tech. It took me a long time to figure out what I was passionate about until my husband and I moved to Logan and we began attending USU. I found the English department and shortly after that, I found Political Science. In 2015 I graduated with two Bachelor’s degrees.
While I do not work in any traditional sense, I have had the privilege of judging several writing contests, and I give as many free tarot readings as I can find time for. I will always dream of the day when I can teach about disability in literature and teach civics. I know that is an odd combo, but teaching in both of my passions would be amazing.
HW: What role does writing play in your life?
AT: I write to express myself and, like many people, to confront my past and heal the wounds of the past. I have had the privilege of belonging to a poetry critique group since January 2019.
HW: What advice do you have for up-and-coming writers?
AT: I am not the best person to give advice, but I would say that if you want to write, make time to do it a little each week. I would also suggest sharing your writing at Helicon, because I would love to hear it.
HW: How did you get involved with Helicon?
AT: My husband and I were taking a summer workshop in 2009, it was one of those all day classes. Since we were creating poems the professor told us about Helicon. At that time summer Helicon was held once a month and at 6 instead of 7. This was awesome because it meant that we could check it out and then drive down to the Lyric to watch a play. Helicon was amazing, the readers were so passionate and very smart people said nice things about my writing which was a new experience for me. My husband Isaac and I became regulars and we even hosted summer Helicon a time or two. It has been great to be a part of the Helicon community and I cannot wait for the new library to be built so that I can be part of it again. COVID has thrown me for a loop and I have only been to one event since the old library closed. Well, except for the one held at our apartment complex. My first post COVID event was Helicon which is very appropriate as the friends we have made there have truly become our chosen family. I am a writer because of the people I met at Helicon readings. I have a full shelf of books bought from featured readers. Helicon was life changing for me and I cannot wait to be able to be more involved again.
Thank you for letting me be part of this blog. I am excited to see the level of excitement the new Helicon team has. This event has been such a positive influence on the local community and that is clear in the drive and passion of those dedicated people who are making things run. I probably should say more, but I am at a loss for words. Helicon is amazing, I wish every community had something like it.
Attached below are two poems that Aaron has written.
Extraction
I am bleeding, and the blood tastes
like popcorn.
I am thinking of war poetry
I am bleeding, and the blood
tastes like popcorn.
I am thinking of stars
The sun over my shoulder
stuffs the Eastern sky with blue
My teeth bite down
squish a cloud of gauze.
I am bleeding.
My face is the moon
full, and radiant.
I am bleeding.
Cloud gauze shifts
stuffs empty sockets.
My full moon gauze face
bleeds.
I swallow buttered popcorn,
take two buses home.
End of days
I am being watched
Two cats, one black
The other tabby
Sit on either side of me
Waiting
To be fed
The sun has not risen
The sky is flaming pink
It turns the yellow leaves
orange
When I was six,
years before these cats
this morning, a boy
told me that the sky
would turn red
At the end of days
A week after his revelation
The setting sun stained
Wispy clouds a
Flame pink
I ran from room to room
Crying
My mother kept cooking
My father kept reading
My brother pushed his door shut
With his foot
How long did we have?
That boy never told me
I ran around again
Told everyone
“Goodbye.”
“I love you.”
Then I sat on cool cement steps
Waited for the end
Aaron Timm
Helicon West 