Q&A with Yermiyahu Ahron Taub

  

 

Yermiyahu Ahron Taub is the author of the new poetry collection Night Breaks in the Garret: Poems and Peregrinations. His other books include The Education of a Daffodil.  

 

Q: How was the title of your new collection chosen, and what does it signify for you?

 

A: Let’s take the two parts of the title separately. “Night Breaks” is, of course, a play on “Daybreak,” but here I was thinking of night having a dawn of its own, of the dawn of night with its strands, or ropes, of rest and unrest. And with that darkness comes risk, the danger of breaking. So the specter of breaking, or shattering, is also at work here.

 

The first part of the Yiddish/Hebrew title, Aloys-ha-layleh [עלות-הלילה/Alot-ha-lailah], transfers the form “aloys,” or “rising,” from the accepted term “Aloys ha-shakher,” [עלות-השחר/Alot ha-shahar] meaning daybreak, or the rising of the day, over to night. Instead of descending into darkness, a rising is invoked here, thereby exhorting the reader to rise into the night ... and into the garret itself. 

 

If the first part of the book’s title works with time, the second part is concerned with space. The garret has always been a suggestive word for me, evoking the lair of the starving artist devoted to his art in solitude below the eaves.

 

While there’s much to critique in that somewhat romanticized trope and while I am not a starving artist and my home is not actually a garret, I found it useful to enter, to fully inhabit, and indeed to call upon, the word when reflecting on my home. A space apart, if not away, from the street and the polis; a space close(r) to the moon and stars. And indeed, a colleague and I have jokingly/seriously referred to my home space as the garret.

 

Q: How did you choose the order in which the poems and essays were presented in the collection?

 

A: As I discuss in my notes at the end of the book, I largely (though not entirely) eschewed the strictly chronological in this book. The beginnings and ends of the section were particularly important for setting a tone.

 

I felt that “Entreaty” would function well as an overture as it heralds one of the book’s key themes: differences in expectations and goals within a family paired with a persistence in attachments between members despite those differences.

 

“Glass Dreams” mines that lode further and functions as something of a bookend. “Fellow Travelers” is a crossing-over poem and seemed like a fitting bridge from the first to the second section. In between, the narrative poems “City of Sweets” and “Village Tableau, Far From the Parade,” with their explorations of desire and danger, worked well together.

 

The meditations "Polemic on Pallor and Parchment and “Activist's Retreat” both explore the relationship of action and words in the public sphere.

 

Section II begins on somber notes—the mourning of relationships, loved ones departed, and the insistence on making a way in the here and now (“M and M and the Queen Greet the S Queen,” “(Not Entirely) New World Rituals,” “Unanswered Questions Around the Endemic Bend,” and “Object Lessons/Treasure, Retained”).

 

And the last five poems of the book move towards, if not uplift exactly, then something close to it: a muted rapture in and appreciation of the everyday. So overall, consideration was given to whether the poems worked well next to each other and whether they helped build and sustain a poetic and emotional arc. 

 

Unlike a novel, an autobiography, or arguably, a work of journalism or scholarship, a poetry collection has more latitude when it comes to the ordering of the text. Rather like a curator preparing an art exhibition that isn’t chronologically based, the poet can play with juxtaposition of color, shape, texture, sound, and numerous other elements.

 

So even as I worked with all the ordering themes and points elaborated above, I also felt a sense of freedom in the book’s curation. 

 

Q: The writer Barbara Krasner said of the book, “True to this volume’s

‘poems and peregrination’ subtitle, Yermiyahu Ahron Taub invites us to accompany him on a lyrical journey of transitions, transformations, and translations.” What do you think of that description?

 

A: I think it's an apt description that gets to the heart of the book’s goals. Transition of the self from strict Orthodoxy to a life different from but still inspired by Orthodoxy. Also, a transition in identity that never was. Transformation from rupture to self-acceptance. Transformation from “stuck-ness” to cautious resilience.

 

The transformation of the world itself, through climate change, is also a key theme of the book. It was important for me to look outward, to balance explorations of the inner self with a depiction of the world around us.

 

And of course, translation: the usage of two languages, English and Yiddish, the resolve to bring both languages into conversation, despite the enormous graphic design challenges, was paramount.

 

Also, the alliteration of Barbara Krasner’s phrasing—transitions, transformations, and translations—replicates the alliteration, which, as Krasner notes in her blurb, is such a major feature of the book.  

 

Q: What do you hope readers take away from the book?

 

A: I wanted the book to be based on, or characterized by, a radical candor coupled with a rigorous yet sensual use of language. While the book examines some difficult themes, I wanted the poet’s direct gaze, the fruits of those excavations, to provide a rewarding experience for the reader. Perhaps not immediately, but over time. 

 

Much of this book was written during a 2023 residency at the Rockvale Writers’ Colony, a magical place in rural Tennessee. And yet a significant portion was also written before that.

 

This is my first poetry collection since The Education of a Daffodil: Prose Poems, which was released nine years ago in 2017. Some of the poems (“The Light at the Beginning of the Tunnel”) took some 30 years to come into being.

 

So I would reiterate here the oft-invoked adage “Trust your process.” This is something which I need to remind myself of rather frequently. Sometimes, it truly does take time to “bring pen to paper,” to bring words to life.

 

Allow yourself the interlude, or interludes, of focused introspection, the gestation of the decades … as well as the surprise of sudden inspiration. Art arrives when it is ready. You’ll know when that is. Be ready to receive and foster it, to provide welcome.

 

Q: What are you working on now?

 

A: I have two translation projects in the pipeline. One is a cache of correspondence between the Yiddish writers Blume Lempel (1907-1999) and Chava Rosenfarb (1923-2011) that I've co-translated with Ellen Cassedy, and the other is an autobiography by the folksinger and matriarch of a Yiddishist dynasty, Lifshe Schaechter-Widman (1893-1974). 

 

Q: Anything else we should know?

 

A: This book is characterized by variety: variety of form (poem, micro-fiction, meditation, monologue, micro-essay, etc.), variety of styles (spare, baroque, etc.), and variety of language (English, Yiddish), a variety of voices.

 

I wanted this book to be about what happens when those disparate elements are brought together not necessarily to create a harmonious whole, but to chart, and perhaps forge, a kind of coordinated consonance, an equanimity hard-earned.

 

I'd like to conclude this Book Q&A on a note of gratitude. Gratitude to all the editors who gave these poems their first home and who continue to create space for literary creation.

 

Gratitude to Finishing Line Press for taking a chance on a multi-lingual, multi-script manuscript with big poems stretching over multiple pages and to the design team for creating such a beautiful book.

 

Gratitude to artist Joshua Meyer for allowing the use of one of his paintings as the cover art.

 

Gratitude to the readers who have read and will read this book and who have supported my work over the years. And gratitude to you, Deborah, for your interest and for this forum.

 

And congratulations to you, Deborah, on your new mystery novel, Everything She Most Admired!

 

--Interview with Deborah Kalb. Here's a previous Q&A with Yermiyahu Ahron Taub. 

Q&A with Kenneth G. Peters

  

 

 

 

Kenneth G. Peters is the author of the new book Georgetown's Retail Past: Generations of Shops and Restaurants in One of America's Great Historic Neighborhoods. He is a retired attorney, and he lives in Washington, D.C.

 

Q: What inspired you to write Georgetown’s Retail Past?

 

A: Before coming to Washington in 1971, I lived in Philadelphia and Boston, two very historic cities. I was fascinated by their history, and I loved being in particular buildings or places and wondering about those who had lived or worked there in the past. When I came to Washington, I began reading everything I could find about its history, and my interest in that history has continued ever since. 

 

When I retired from practicing law in 2012, I realized I now had an opportunity to really pursue my interest in local history, and I began looking for ways to do so. I did some work researching the history of people’s houses and enjoyed it, but the projects only came along sporadically. I needed a research project that I could do on my own schedule. Since I have lived in Georgetown for 19 years, something about the neighborhood’s history seemed worth exploring.

 

I noticed that while there has been much written about Georgetown’s houses and its institutions, little has been written about the neighborhood’s non-industrial commercial past. I decided to research that untilled ground and see where it would take me. After a while, I concluded that there was enough material for a book, and I resolved to write one. 

 

Georgetown’s Retail Past is not by any means the definitive book about the neighborhood’s retail history. Rather, it is a first effort on which I hope others may build in the future.

 

Q: How did you research the book, and what did you learn that especially surprised you?

 

A: I had two main sources. One was public records: the census, city directories, land records, building permit records, tax records, survey atlases, and records of the District of Columbia Surveyor. My legal training and experience were helpful, as I was familiar with those records and knew how to navigate and interpret them. 

 

City directories were a particularly important source. The first step in my research was to collect city directory listings for all retail businesses on Wisconsin Avenue and M Street (the neighborhood’s two main streets) for 30 selected years from 1860 to 2014. I entered those directory listings into a database – actually, a large Excel spreadsheet. 

 

In the course of my research, whenever I found information in other years’ directories about businesses on the two main streets, I added it to the database. The database now contains 12,400 directory listings, and I continue to add to it as I learn new things.

 

The database enabled me to see the mix of Georgetown businesses change in response to economic trends like the transition from horses to cars for transportation, the evolution of grocery stores from small corner shops to (eventually) supermarkets, the decline of the barbershop and the advent of home appliances in the 1920s. 

 

The database made it possible to see how the owners of bars and liquor stores coped when Prohibition suddenly made their businesses illegal. It revealed how individual businesses moved around, and helped me identify family relationships among the owners of different stores. 

 

The second major source was the press: the Washington Post and Evening Star as well as a local newspaper called The Georgetowner. Georgetown merchants were ordinary people who did not often draw the attention of the press. Only some Georgetown businesses advertised, but their ads were revealing. Obituaries were a source of biographical information. Sometimes there were articles about neighborhood stores, often covering traumatic events like fires, robberies and liquidation auctions.

 

I used other sources as well. The Georgetown Citizens Association has for some years conducted oral history interviews with long-time neighborhood residents, transcripts of which are available on its website. 

 

The Peabody Room in the Georgetown Branch of the District of Columbia Public Library has a collection of files about each building in the neighborhood, containing press clippings and photographs from the past. Going through those files was one of the first steps in my research. Ancestry.com was an important resource because the census, city directories, and other records are searchable there.

 

What surprised me was how many Georgetown stores were owned by immigrants. We generally do not think of Washington as an immigrant destination, perhaps because until after the mid-20th century Washington lacked the kind of vibrant immigrant neighborhoods found in cities like New York, Chicago, Boston and Baltimore. 

 

Immigrants were here, though, and I discovered that many of them owned stores in Georgetown.  For example, 83 (29 percent) of the 289 stores on the two main streets in 1920 had foreign-born owners. I could not identify the national origins of all 289 owners, so there may have been other immigrants among them. 

 

Some immigrants’ families ran multiple businesses for multiple generations. An example was Hyman Brodofsky, who arrived in the United States in 1892 and started a clothing store. Seven of his descendants over the next three generations ran stores in Georgetown. Bridge Street Books, founded by Brodofsky’s great-grandson Philip Levy (now deceased), still is owned by the family today. 

 

The entrepreneurial spirit of the immigrant merchants is impressive. If someone’s first store failed, we see him or her try again later. When markets changed, they adjusted their inventory and their business models, as happened during the Great Depression or when ready-made clothing caused dry goods stores to fade away. They bought the buildings in which their stores were located, and in many cases invested in other buildings as well. Late in their lives, many of them lived in suburbs like Bethesda, Chevy Chase, Silver Spring, and Arlington.

 

I also was surprised by how long Georgetown has been a retail center.  All the way back in 1830, there were 132 retail stores on the two main streets, including a dozen dry goods stores, nine shoemakers, two jewelers, five clothing stores, three bookstores, and 37 grocers. By 1877 there were 262 stores on the two main streets, and the number has been that many or more ever since.

 

Q: What do you see as some of the most common perceptions and misconceptions about Georgetown?

 

A: An obvious and accurate perception is that Georgetown today is an affluent neighborhood of expensive homes. However, many people may not realize that Georgetown has not always been such an upscale enclave. It began as a tobacco port. Later, after the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal opened with its terminus in Georgetown, the neighborhood was a canal port.  

 

The Georgetown waterfront was an industrial area, occupied by mills, power plants, cement plants, and even a rendering plant. While there were a few affluent families, Georgetown was a largely working-class neighborhood through World War I. It had a distinctly small-town character, despite its connection to the nation’s capital.

 

In 1915, the wife of the secretary of war was overheard lamenting to a friend that, in order to find a house with a yard suitable for her children, she might have to go to Virginia. The wife’s friend said, “Too bad! You will have to pass through Georgetown.” That kind of perception may have made today’s historic, restored Georgetown possible, because for decades developers were not interested in the neighborhood. 

 

Surprisingly little has been written about the process by which the working-class neighborhood became today’s Georgetown. Restoration began with a few people who came to Washington during the 1930s to work in New Deal government agencies and faced a housing shortage. 

 

The WPA Guide to Washington, published in 1937, refers to journalists, government employees and others who “appreciated the charm that lay beneath dilapidation” and bought small Georgetown homes. In the 1950s the process gained momentum, and the Kennedy family’s connection to Georgetown cemented the neighborhood’s new image in the early 1960s.

 

A common misperception is that there is no subway station in Georgetown because neighborhood residents opposed it. While there were a few opponents, it actually was construction challenges that ruled out a Georgetown station, particularly the difficulty of tunnelling under hundreds of historic structures and how very deep underground the station would have had to be to be in order for the trains to run under the river. 

 

Washington’s Metro system was originally intended primarily to bring commuters to downtown Washington, and the planners may have been less motivated to overcome these challenges because Georgetown was not then an employment center. 

 

Q: Where did you find the photos you used in the book?

 

A: There are 98 photographs in the book. Fifty-nine are recent photos of buildings that in the past housed stores that the book talks about. I took those photos myself. I do not pretend to be a great photographer!

 

I was not able to find many photographs of retail Georgetown from the past. It is likely that because of the neighborhood’s past déclassé image there was not much interest in photographing its commercial streets. 

 

The historic photos that I did find came from the collections of the Library of Congress, particularly the Historic American Buildings Survey and the National Photo Company Collection. A handful came from other sources, such as the Smithsonian and the Kiplinger Library at the D.C. History Center. 

 

Q: What are you working on now?

 

A: A good question, to which I wish I knew the answer. Georgetown’s Retail Past has just been published, so I am only now beginning to cast about for another project. 

 

Researching and writing Georgetown’s Retail Past took 12 years, because I was not working at it even close to full time. It was a retirement project to which I turned my attention as I was inclined and as time permitted. At the age of 77, I am not sure I have enough life expectancy left for another project like that! 

 

I definitely will be pursuing my interest in Washington history in some form, though. Perhaps a smaller, more narrowly focused book or some articles.

 

Q: Anything else we should know?

 

A: Although I have said a lot here about trends, the book at its core is about individual businesses and their owners. It contains short histories of 159 Georgetown businesses: who started the business and when, where was it located, what the building was like, what businesses had been there before, what the store sold, were there other owners in later years, did it advertise, what members of the founder’s family were involved in running it, how well-known was it, what challenges did the owners have to overcome, and, especially, what about it was noteworthy or unusual? 

 

Some readers may be intrigued by Georgetown’s retail history because they are curious about what was here before their own time. Georgetown’s Retail Past contains plenty to satisfy that curiosity.  It tells the stories of stores and restaurants from as far back as the 1830s through the 1940s.

 

Other readers may be intrigued because of nostalgia, an interest in hearing about businesses that they patronized years ago. Restaurants in particular may inspire such nostalgia, because Georgetown has been a dining and entertainment center since the 1960s. Fifty-three of the book’s historical sketches are of restaurants and stores that were popular in the years since 1960.  

 

The book relates the story of the cultural and legal clash during the 1960s and 1970s between residents seeking a quiet, genteel neighborhood on one side and owners and patrons of youth-oriented bars on the other. It also tells of the opening and impact of the Georgetown Park mall. 

 

--Interview with Deborah Kalb 

Q&A with David Ly

  

Photo by Joy Gyamfi

 

 

David Ly is the author of the new novel Not All Dragons. His other books include the poetry collection Mythical Man. He is the poetry editor of This Magazine. 

 

Q: What inspired you to write Not All Dragons, and how did you create your characters Rhys and Delia?

 

A: The story first came to me as the ending image of the novel, inspired by my poem "Boy" from my debut poetry collection Mythical Man. I knew where the protagonist was going to end up, what happened to him, and so it was a matter of asking myself who he was and why he was in the position he finds himself in. I'm not sure how or when it happened, but I remember that his name was always, clearly Rhys. 

 

Delia was someone created as a guide for Rhys through Lanilia. I knew it had to be a mermaid as water was a central image, and I think I was further attached to her when I came up with the term "Mernese" to describe her culture and language. I wanted to create mermaids in a way that I've never experienced, so the term set a foundation for what I ended up doing.

 

Q: How would you describe the dynamic between them?

 

A: In their own ways, I think they’re both a bit guarded: Delia takes her role of protector of the estuary very seriously, so she is naturally suspicious. And Rhys is afraid of a lot, making him a bit unsure. But at the same time, Delia is curious. Rhys piqued her curiosity and once she saw how much help he needed, they found an unexpected friendship in each other. 

 

Q: How did you create the world in which the story is set?

 

A: This was such a challenge for me to do. Since fantasy can require very intense world-building, I was intimidated by the task. I didn't want to get lost in the details; (over)explain things to readers, telling instead of showing. For a long time, Lanilia wasn't named anything and I simply referred to it as "the Country" as a placeholder to make myself feel a bit more in control. 

 

But working with my editor, AGA Wilmot, they really asked the right questions, encouraged me to dive deeper into the lore, and show how the land and its magical inhabitants are connected. Naming the setting was me mumbling sounds, seeing what felt easiest to pronounce and the most lyrical.

 

What unexpectedly helped me create the setting was naming the different species of fruit. Combining common words was very fun to make things like: mourningberries, sunpearls, wellshells, and hushmangos (that grow sweeter in environments that are quietest, and are the ones I want to try the most).

 

Q: The author Lindsay Wong called the book “a thrilling and evocative exploration of reclaiming one’s identity, memory, self and kin.” What do you think of that description?

A: I'm very grateful to have Lindsay say that. I really admire her writing, who she is as a writer, and her work ethic. So when she picked up on themes I had in mind while writing, it was quite affirming.

 

Q: What are you working on now?

A: Right now, I’m poking around my manuscript for my third poetry collection that’s due out this fall with Anstruther Books, an imprint of Palimpsest Press. It’s done editing, but I’m still playing with new poems that may or may not make it in.

 

When I’m not working on my poetry, I’m slowly making progress on a new novel (unrelated to Not All Dragons).

 

Q: Anything else we should know?

 

A: I hope readers enjoy Not All Dragons, and that they can recognize that not all fantasy stories need to have grandiose character arcs, super intricate systems, or epic battles. I want Not All Dragons to be considered a story with a quiet protagonist who is not unusually gifted, but finds himself in unusual circumstances to see why he matters.

 

--Interview with Deborah Kalb 

May 31

 

 

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY

May 31, 1819: Walt Whitman born. 

Q&A with Elizabeth Rose Quinn

  

 

 

Elizabeth Rose Quinn is the author of the new novel Payback. She also has written the novel Follow Me. She is also a screenwriter, and she lives in New Mexico. 

 

Q: In Payback’s Author’s Note, you write, “This book exists at a knotty intersection of truth and fiction.” Can you say more about that, and about how you balanced the two?

 

A: That was one of the hardest parts of this book. The setting of Pay to Stay is 100 percent real. The special privileges afforded to those inmates are real. And the overarching observations about the carceral system are all real.

 

However, after that I took creative license in terms of the characters and the story itself. While I really wanted to bring aspects of the carceral system to the center of the conversation, I also wanted the book to be fun to read!

 

Q: The writer Kirsten King said of the book, “Quinn deftly explores power dynamics, class, and her characters' darkest impulses with unflinching honesty.” What do you think of that description?

 

A: Firstly, King is a gem and you all need to put her new book on your TBR immediately!

 

Secondly, she nailed exactly what I was trying to explore in this story. (Part of why I was so thrilled she blurbed my book!)

 

In many ways, how we deal with incarcerated people is a microcosm of our culture at large. We want to believe that the law is blind; Lady Justice wears a blindfold while holding the scales after all, but the law is not a neutral thing. It is a set of rules created by people, enforced by people, and enacted upon people. It has all the flaws, biases, strengths, and shortcomings of the people who are deciding each individual case.

 

Also I didn’t want this to be a book where we had one perfect person to root for - a Shawshank Andy Dufresne, so to speak. Everyone here is guilty, but we root for some of them anyway.

 

My hope is if readers find themselves siding with morally grey characters in this book, perhaps they could extend that to real people being impacted by the systems as they are.

 

Q: How did you research the book, and did you learn anything that especially surprised you?

 

A: Nothing will compare to the initial shock of finding out about Pay-to-Stay prisons. What was compelling to me was that NO ONE else knew either. Every single person who has read this book has been astounded that these are not a work of fiction.

 

Q: Did you know how the novel would end before you started writing it, or did you make many changes along the way?

 

A: Due to my many years working in TV sitcoms, I am a devoted outliner. So while I had some possible suspects when I began the outline, I definitely knew where I was going before the outline was finished, and definitely before I started writing. I need to know where I am going!

 

Q:  What are you working on now?

 

A: I am currently working on a short story for a TV pilot pitch, and I am also expanding a different short story for a novel that is more in the tradition of Never Let Me Go, or Children of Men.

 

Q: Anything else we should know?

 

A: I always want to say I am so grateful to everyone who takes the time to read my books. Payback is definitely a departure from my first book, Follow Me, and I am thrilled that so many readers are willing to come along for this new story.

 

--Interview with Deborah Kalb 

Q&A with Jade Floyd

  

 

 

Jade Floyd is the author of the new book The Leadership Labyrinth: Women Navigating Power and Purpose in a Changing World. She is an adjunct professor at George Washington University and is senior vice president at the consulting firm Bryson Gillette. She lives in Silver Spring, Maryland.

 

Q: What inspired you to write The Leadership Labyrinth?

 

A: I was inspired to write The Leadership Labyrinth because I kept seeing a disconnect between how leadership is often portrayed - and how it’s actually experienced by women.

 

We’re taught to think of success as a straight line: work hard, climb the ladder, and you’ll get there. But when I looked at my own journey - and the journeys of the extraordinary women around me - it was anything but linear. It was winding, unpredictable, and at times deeply challenging.

 

I wrote this book because I wanted to tell the truth about those journeys from women in the C-suite at global brands like Revlon, Sam’s Club, H&M, Rare Beauty, UNICEF, ESPN, and more.  Not the polished version, but the real one. The version that includes the setbacks, the tradeoffs, the invisible labor, and the moments of becoming.

 

And I wanted to pair those stories with practical tools and journaling prompts that I call “Endeavors” so women are equipped to move forward with intention.

 

Q: The author Randi Braun said of the book, “Part pep talk, part playbook, this is the real-talk guide every woman needs to navigate the dizzying climb up the ladder.” What do you think of that description?

 

A: I love that description because it captures the duality I was very intentional about when writing this book.

 

There are so many leadership books that either inspire you or instruct you—but rarely do both in a way that feels honest and grounded in lived experience. I wanted The Leadership Labyrinth to sit at that intersection.

 

It is a pep talk in the sense that it reminds women: you are not behind, you are not alone, and your path - no matter how winding - is valid.

 

But it’s also a playbook. It offers concrete reframes and tools, whether that’s shifting from “I want” to “I deserve,” learning how to set boundaries without guilt, or recognizing and managing the invisible mental load we carry.

 

And the “real talk” piece is important. I didn’t want to sanitize the journey. Leadership, especially for women, often includes moments we don’t say out loud—the exhaustion, the impostor syndrome, the tension between ambition and caregiving. This book creates space for those truths while still pointing toward possibility.

 

After reading Randi’s book, I attended her retreat in Washington, D.C., which focused on realigning and recharging. Her theme for the gathering—“saying yes to saying no”—reverberated across the day.

 

As women, we often say yes to too many things that are asked of us. Can you bake those cookies for the school fair? Absolutely. Can you join a board? Yes! Can you pick up all the supplies for your sister’s birthday party because she just doesn’t have time to do it? Absolutely. Can you join our board? Sign me up!

 

Women are often conditioned—by culture, community, and even our own internal dialogue—to say yes to everything: more responsibility at work, another school committee, one more favor for a friend or family member. But every yes that doesn’t serve us chips away at our time, energy, and clarity.

 

The truth is, we don’t have to carry the full load. We are allowed to say no without guilt, to set boundaries without apology, and to choose ourselves without explanation. Saying no isn’t about shirking responsibility—it’s about reclaiming balance and honoring your time.

 

Q: How was the book’s title chosen, and what does it signify for you?

 

A: The title came from a realization that the metaphor we’ve been given as women, climbing the ladder, just doesn’t reflect reality. A ladder suggests clarity, direction, predictability and an ending once you reach the top.

 

But most women I know haven’t experienced leadership that way. Instead, it feels like navigating a labyrinth - full of turns, dead ends, unexpected openings, and moments where you have to pause and reassess.

 

For me, the labyrinth signifies both complexity and intention. It’s not chaos - it’s a journey that requires resilience and adaptability, and self-trust. Every twist and turn teaches you something, even when it doesn’t make sense in the moment.

 

And importantly, a labyrinth isn’t something to escape or reach the pinnacle - it’s something to move through with purpose and intention, owning the season we are in. 

 

Q: What impact did it have on you to write the book, and what do you hope readers take away from it?

 

A: Writing this book was deeply reflective for me. It required me to slow down and really examine my own journey - not just the milestones, but the moments in between. The decisions I questioned, the opportunities I missed, the relationships that shaped me.

 

It also gave me the opportunity to learn from and elevate the voices of incredible women. Women like Janet Yang, the Academy Award–winning producer and former president of the Academy of the Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, who speaks to the power of storytelling, and Heather Higginbottom, who has held senior roles in both the White House and global finance, offering invaluable lessons on navigating leadership at the highest levels and across the political aisle.

 

This book is a culmination of those lessons, shared in the hope that they will inspire and empower you to navigate your own leadership journey with the wisdom and grace of these extraordinary women.

 

What I hope readers take away is both permission and power. Permission to celebrate their wins, embrace their season of life, own their rest. I want women to walk away believing: I deserve to be in every room that I enter. My path makes sense, even if I can’t see the full picture yet. And I have everything I need to take the next step.

 

Q: What are you working on now?

 

A: Right now, I’m focused on continuing to build the ecosystem around The Leadership Labyrinth. That includes expanding the framework into workshops, speaking engagements, and potentially a podcast that brings these conversations to life in real time.

 

I have a new role at a communications firm focused on mission-aligned brands and organizations. I’m also deeply engaged in board work and philanthropic initiatives, particularly those focused on education, the arts, and expanding food access. 

 

At the core of all of this is a continued commitment to finding my way through my own labyrinth, and giving women the opportunity to articulate who they are, what they stand for, and the impact they want to have on the world.

 

And of course, I have a big idea for a new book which my publisher is eagerly awaiting for the first few chapters. 

 

Q: Anything else we should know?

 

A: The Leadership Labyrinth is an invitation. An invitation to tell the truth about our journeys. And an invitation to redefine what leadership looks like.

 

So many women are navigating their careers feeling like they’re the only ones struggling with uncertainty or self-doubt. This book challenges that isolation. It says: you are not alone, and your path is not wrong - it’s unfolding. And if there’s one message I hope stays with readers, it’s this: your winding path is not a detour. It is the way.

 

--Interview with Deborah Kalb 

Q&A with Lisa Cutler

  

 

 

Lisa Cutler is the creator of the photobook The Hook: A Photographic Journey Through Red Hook, Brooklyn. She is based in New York.

 

Q: What inspired you to create The Hook?

 

A: Creating a photo book was not my original goal. I was inspired to create The Hook after spending two years and creating 4,500 images in Red Hook during 2017-2019.

 

I had originally been taking pictures during the fall of 2017 in  Gowanus, Brooklyn. One early Sunday morning in October, I took a wrong turn and wandered under the towering Gowanus Expressway.

 

As I continued to walk, I knew instinctively that I wasn’t in Gowanus anymore. I was lost. I found the experience both scary and exhilarating. I decided to embrace the feeling of being lost and returned every Sunday morning.

 

My goal was to figure out where I was without using a map. Although there weren’t any people that early in the morning, I decided, If I saw someone, I would avoid asking questions.

 

I created hand-drawn maps in a little notebook that I carried while photographing. Unfortunately, a lot of places that I wanted to return to seemed to have disappeared.

 

It took three visits before I figured out where I was. While walking down Van Brandt Street, there was the Queen Mary. I now knew that I was in Red Hook but knew nothing about the area. I decided to continue wandering on without maps.

 

There were so many interesting clues to tell a story of this lost part of Brooklyn and its heritage. I was determined to figure out as much as I could by the clues I was discovering and by researching as I went along.

 

The idea of The Hook emerged from my journey of discovery. I wanted to share my experience and the rich history of a relatively unknown part of Brooklyn. There was the seed for The Hook.

 

Q: How did you choose the photographs to include in the book, and how did you decide on the order in which they would appear?

 

A: Choosing photos and sequencing them is a long and arduous process. The Red Hook project had won The Los Angeles Center of Photography’s Project 2020. The competition highlighted five photographers as winners for their “series work.”

 

That gave me the opportunity to choose and sequence my first 25 images of Red Hook. Those 25 images were the anchor for the rest of the 109 mages that appear in the book. Choosing 25 images out of 4,500 was a long and difficult task but there were clearly favorites.

 

I edited down to 500 to 300 and then to 200. After 200, it became very difficult to choose images. My floors became carpeted with photos. I started pairing images that I felt were strong together, printed them, and placed the images on a wall.

 

The Hook is more than just a photo book. It tells the story of a journey that I took while lost in an area of Brooklyn. The pictures give you clues to an unknown area without revealing the location. Because there are no people in the book, the photos are interesting hints to a neighborhood rich in history.

 

Q: What do you think the photographs say about the neighborhood of Red Hook?

 

A: My photographs of Red Hook tell a story of failed industry, forgotten places, and a part of the city that had been separated from its communal core and ruined by misguided urban planning.

 

Against the half-built and half-ruined urban landscape, there are budding scenes of youthful life, new commercial enterprises, converted warehouses, and new buildings popping up behind graffitied fences.

 

My pictures in The Hook show Red Hook in flux. It took me the full two years of photographing to understand Red Hook’s complete history.

 

Once a successful immigrant sailor-driven community of the late 1800s and early 1900s, Red Hook degenerated to a desolate crime-ridden community. Now we see Red Hook emerging as a young hip community filled with entrepreneurs, artists, restauranteurs, and community-minded people trying to hold on to Red Hook’s history.

 

Q: What do you hope readers take away from the book?

 

A: I hope that people take away from The Hook the journey that I experienced while being lost. Ignoring all modern technology or printed maps, I was able to let go of my fears and to press on to explore an area that, while I was there, was absent of people.

 

Through photographing different buildings and scenarios I hope that people can feel the same curiosity that I felt while shooting: Why were the ballfields overgrown, why were the factories in ruin, and why were entire neighborhoods disappearing?

 

Q: What are you working on now?

 

A: I have several different series that I’ve been working on. One is a series that I developed during Covid called Memory which shows a world without people.

 

Here, before shooting each image, I try to think back and wish I had a picture or reference of what the space might have looked like. I know that life existed here, but it felt that it just picked up and disappeared.

 

These photographs show the fragility of the world we live in. They force us to conjure up scenarios of playgrounds full of children and restaurant parking lots full of cars and people.

 

Without people as a reference, these images stand as monuments to another time. As with Easter Island, all that was left was monuments as clues to a civilization that had once existed.

 

Road Trip is a series taken while driving through the Grand Canyon and areas near Sedona. While trekking through abandoned theme parks, horseback riding through the desert and photographing details of the desert, I captured timeless black-and-white images.

 

The idea of Hidden Homes came as a surprise to me. While walking in a familiar neighborhood, I noticed “The Pink House.” I took the picture, went home to develop it and thought, what is this? You can barely see the subject.

 

I kept analyzing the image and realized that the beauty was not necessarily of the home, but how the home creates a frame, or backdrop for the blooming trees. I then, started noticing other “Hidden Homes” that also became interesting because of how they reveal themselves in the image.

 

Creating this series of photographs was an adventure that started out on the east end of Long Island. This journey has taken me to Florida, California, Minnesota, Portugal, Peru, Nevada, and other states and countries.

 

--Interview with Deborah Kalb