John Dermot Woods is a writer and artist living in Brooklyn. His stories and comics have appeared in various journals, and his debut novel, The Complete Collection of People & Things is available here. His image-text novel, No One Told Me I Would Disappear, which he wrote with J.A. Tyler, is forthcoming from Jaded Ibis Press.

John will be providing the cover image as well as other artwork for Issue #1 of FIX IT BROKEN. 


Here’s an Interview with John:

Greg Dybec: What correlation between artwork and writing attracts you most?

John Dermot Woods: I think it’s the ability of words and pictures to create something complete. In my case it’s often narrative. Or image. When I use only one or the other, it often feels like I’m not done yet. When I start a work, I don’t say “I’m going to use prose for this and some drawings.” The idea takes shape as I begin to draw or write, and, the way I work, I almost always end up with some words and some pictures. I end up with something called a “comic” when the idea begins with words and pictures together. But often my story begins with a drawing, or the image I’m building starts with the language. The rupture that occurs when words lie beside pictures and absolutely refuse to combine is exciting to me. Even though I claim that I want something “complete,” I also feel that it’s false to believe that I ever achieve this, and these dueling modes, of word and image, ensure that my work will not try to put on airs of seamlessness.

GD: Do you find yourself working with familiar themes/subjects in both your artwork and writing?

 JDW: I’m not so good at diagnosing that. People, I guess. I’m drawn to human faces and human forms. However abstractly my drawings begin, they quickly take on recognizable forms. Similarly my writing may begin quite slippery and smooth, but it usually takes on either some narrative form, or mimics some other pre-existing form. And my drawings, and stories, and whatever else, eventually seem to focus on the specific people. Usually these people have lost something. Or they themselves are lost.

GD: From an artist’s perspective, what advice would you give to someone hoping to further his or her skills?

JDW: Experiment. Follow whims that you can’t intellectually justify. Don’t follow established creational modes if they don’t fit you, or because you think it’ll bring your work recognition, or it’s the proper way to exist as whatever kind of artist you see yourself as at the time. I think this stifled me for a while. I went into an MFA program at a young age, and was labeled a ‘fiction writer.’ I didn’t dare present my drawings during my precious workshop sessions (and forget about turning in a comic!). We were all worried about that agent who would be sitting in with us next week, or that guy from The Atlantic who we’d be taking to the baseball game the week after. I got pulled so far away from the things I wanted to make. Then, when I disappeared into wilderness of doctoral study, and I learned that the stakes were low, I started to draw again, and make things that I liked a whole lot more.

GD: Do you feel that living in New York provides any unique influences that wouldn’t be available if you lived elsewhere?

 JDW: Short answer is: yeah, of course. On the one hand, I think I could say that about anywhere I’ve lived, almost all towns that I’ve loved – Baltimore , Athens , GA , Tokyo . But I would also say that living in New York , right now, is pretty singular. It’s constantly stimulating and distracting. The thing about New York is that it’s full of fascinating people making great stuff who want to talk to you about the stuff you’re making. And you actually see these people and encounter them again and again. In certain cities, like Tokyo (and L.A., I’ve heard) you’ve got all of these people doing cool stuff, but the way the city moves, you might not meet them, or, if you do, you may never see them again (unless they work the registers at your local 7-11). And a small town full of artists like Athens is amazing, but it’s a small town. I didn’t live there long enough to feel that it was too small, but I could imagine that. It’s hard for me to have much perspective on NYC, having grown up just outside it; it’s basically always been my model for cosmopolitanism and urbanity.

GD: I think this one is going to become a routine for FIX IT BROKEN interviews. Share a worthwhile story (about anything) with us. We’ve all got at least one.

 JDW: Okay, if this is an interview staple, then I’ll give you my best interview story. When I was an undergrad at Georgetown , I wrote the local music column, which was basically writing a review of a Dischord band each week. One week I was a day away from a deadline and had nothing. So, I looked at my Minor Threat CD and found the address of the Dischord office on it, which I knew was Ian MacKaye’s mom’s house. I looked up MacKaye in the Northwest DC phonebook and found the matching address. Ian’s mom, Ginger MacKaye, answered the phone and we proceeded to discuss the origins of DC punk rock from a mother’s vantage point, for two hours. (I altogether missed my painting studio that day – only time that ever happened.) She was an amazing woman, who has unfortunately since passed away. She told me about sheltering Henry Rollins and making pancakes for Black Flag when they basically recruited him at her kitchen table. She talked about meeting Brian Baker’s (of Bad Religion) mom in the dog park the week previously when their dogs were tangled only to discover their sons had been in Minor Threat together. She talked about Ian getting her an audience with Leonard Cohen. And she expressed her concern that Ian, then in his thirties, might get hurt skateboarding. She also told me that she made a point of reading our campus paper each week when she went to Safeway. It was this little moment over ten years ago, but her openness and generosity has always stuck with me.

GD: What aspect of collaborating with FIX IT BROKEN interests you the most?

 JDW: Two aspects. One is the seriousness with which you approach this (it bodes well). This is not some whim that’s not built to last (which is also something I could be into). And the other thing is that it’s completely new. I have no idea what it’ll be. I have no preconceptions or prejudices in regards to this Greg Dybec guy. It could become anything, and I’m excited to see how I can kick it in the side and see what kind of cool dent it makes.

GD: What does the term ‘Fix it Broken’ mean to you?

 JDW: It’s like I said before: I have this desire to “complete” things, but I know it’s an impossible and false undertaking, and where the real beauty lies is in the gaps and failures. We want to fix things just so, but they only work if we smash them up real good.

Learn more about John Dermot Woods at his site: http://www.johndermotwoods.com/