Pulling Over for Poems: A Conversation with Elle Estérre
- Jhazzy Jhane
- May 25
- 4 min read
For poet, artist, and illustrator Elle Estérre, writing rarely arrives on a schedule. Poems appear while driving, in the middle of a shower, or in quiet moments stolen away from crowded rooms, demanding attention on their own terms. In this conversation, Elle reflects on vulnerability in poetry, the uncertainty of drafts, balancing privacy with publication, and the ways art continues to surprise both its creators and audiences. With recent publications and new projects on the horizon, she shares a perspective rooted in curiosity, honesty, and a deep belief in the power of creative expression.
Q: What does your writing practice look like on an ordinary day, and how has it evolved over time?
A: My writing practice looks like pulling over to the side of the road and putting on my hazard lights to capture a poem before it flies away; it looks like running out of the shower, soaking wet, to grab my phone and jot down some edits, or hiding around the side of the house at a party to write a new stanza. I am definitely not in charge of my practice—the poems are! I only exist as their stenographer. It's been this way since before I can remember.
Q: What’s a risk you’ve taken in your writing recently, and how did it change the work?
A: I find poetry to be inherently exposing. To jot down my most lyrical and often experimental thoughts is a very vulnerable and conscience-confronting choice. I explore a lot of personal, intense experiences—my own and others'—when I write my poems. In other words, it's always risky.
I think, recently, my efforts to share poems for the first time with publishing entities such as Three Panels Press have felt like the biggest risk of all and have been a major leap that I'm very proud of. It has paid off: the encouragement of having published multiple pieces this year has been infectious. I'm so hungry to continue writing now, more so than ever before.
Q: How do you sit with uncertainty in your drafts, especially when a piece doesn’t come together right away?
A: None of my pieces ever come together right away. I edit until the cows come home. I am a communication professional and am quite used to the first (or second, or tenth) draft not making the final cut. I am very used to sitting with uncertainty and workshopping again and again, and I feel very grateful for that. My poems deserve to shine and be their best selves. The least I can do is help them out with a comprehensive edit.
Q: Are there lines or fragments you return to but haven’t quite found a home for yet? What keeps you holding onto them?
A: I have a few scrappy poems that I haven't had the heart to throw away. I guess I'm holding onto them because I think they deserve to exist, just as they are. The old saying, "there's somebody for everybody," applies to poems. Maybe, one day, the right issue theme or open call will come around, and I'll think of my scraps. They might be "scraps" to me, but you never know who they'll resonate with in the end.
I have learned this over and over again with my art; I'm a painter and illustrator, and the things that people fall in love with never cease to amaze me. I could spend twelve hours on a stunning realist acrylic, and nobody bats an eye, but they'll love the ridiculous doodle I did on a Tuesday night while watching Jersey Shore reruns. It blows my mind, and I've learned never to discount something just because you don't think it's cool—for someone else, it might just change their life!
Q: How do you think about audience, if at all, when you’re writing?
A: I never used to think much about my audience, but I'm trying to change that. Now that I'm putting my writing out into the world, I need to figure out how to navigate the exposure. I'm a pretty private person, and poetry isn't exactly a reserved medium. So, nowadays, I mostly think about the audience in relation to striking that balance, deciding what is or isn't too personal to share, and things like that. Thankfully, some of my poems are actually based on fictional ideas (I'll never tell which! ), so that does give me a little guise of privacy. You can never tell what my story is, what is someone else's story or what is pure fantasy. Other than that, I just hope any audience I manage to gather feels seen and heard by my poems. I want to create an oasis of peace and understanding with my writing, I want it to feel welcoming to everyone, and I want a lot of it to be comforting rather than jarring. The world gives us enough chaos as is.
Q: What does it mean for you to feel “in conversation” with your own work over time?
A: To me, being "in conversation" with my work is almost like maintaining a long-distance friendship. It takes conscious effort, time, and planning to keep things rolling. There's back-and-forth, adjusting around each other's schedules, and a certain level of flexibility required to continue the relationship. But it's a very important relationship to me, and I want to keep that conversation going forever, never forgetting to text or call.
Q: Are there things that you are working on right now that you can share with us?
A: I'm working with Hawaii Review on a very special poem, "Spam on the Dash," which will be published in their 97th issue later this year! I'm very honored that this poem was selected. They are a wonderful literary journal and I'm so excited to see this next issue come to life. Other than that, I'm considering launching a monthly art blog newsletter of sorts... If and when that becomes available, I'll post about it on my website, ellesportfolios.wixsite.com/elle-esterre.
Q: Why are art and its history important?
A: Oh, what can I say that hasn't already been said? We are nothing without our art. It's the beating heart of humanity turned inside out for all to gawk at. It's how we survive; it's how we emote. Art and history are our past, present, and future in a gallery case. Thank goodness for it. Thank goodness we create. And we'll keep on dancing, same as it ever was.
