Hannah Ryder’s poem, “Ogeechee,” was published in Volume 1, Issue 1 of The Turning Leaf Journal. Since its publication, “Ogeechee” has been nominated (by us)  for the Pushcart Prize. 

Hannah’s lyrical precision is what first caught our attention, but the poem’s meditative reflection on how places hold memory, especially of tragedy, invited us to return to it. We’re reminded of the inevitability of nature’s reclamation but “Ogeechee” feels like a prayer  for forgiveness–not from a divine savior, but from the earth itself. 

In this interview, conducted asynchronously in February 2025, Hannah shares more about her writing process, inspirations, and how movement—across geography, and across genres—continues to shape her creative path.

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Can you tell us a bit about your background? 

By day, I’m a technical writer, but I also write feature articles and copyedit for a lifestyle magazine. I love to stay connected in the literary community by working with journals—right now, I’m a volunteer screener at Ploughshares, so I get to read some amazing things from both up-and-coming and established essayists. Though I’m a native Michigander, my home base is currently central Virginia. I hold an MFA from the Savannah College of Art & Design and continue to learn about writing as much as I can. 

What was your writing process like for “Ogeechee?” 

I wrote the poem in grad school in Savannah, GA, a place famous for its live oaks. I can just imagine what they’ve seen, and how people have impacted the earth, for better or worse. I wrote it quickly after going to my car, which I had parked on a side street blocks from class, one of the only spots I could ever seem to find. I edited it for form and length, as my first drafts always tend to be too long (more of a brain dump than anything else). I struggled with packing a punch and a story into as few words as possible, and figuring out breaks, as I hadn’t studied much poetry, so after a few rounds of revision and playing with form, I finally got the piece to be where it is today.

What does this piece mean to you? And has the piece changed meaning for you since writing it? 

The piece represents an important time in my life; when I think about Savannah, I think about grad school, moving away from all family in Michigan and taking a big leap in coming to SCAD to continue studying writing. Back then, it didn’t mean so much as it does now, especially the themes of change, as I have since moved from Savannah several years back.

How does this piece fit in with your other work? 

I write in many genres, so much so that I have trouble pinning down which genre I’m more inclined to than others. As for the content, nature, the past, and connections with other humans is in line with other work, as those themes I am deeply interested in.

Do you have any writing rituals? 

I always like to have some sort of noise—preferably lo-fi—as complete silence makes me distracted somehow. I like to write in the dark, with only my laptop screen for lighting (maybe not the best for my eyes, but the best for my writing mindset!). Recently I’ve been more diligent about copying my work over to another document and working from there to save anything I had written previously instead of editing the same chunk of text over and over and risk losing work.

What is inspiring you lately?

I’m in Apalachicola, FL, right now, and it made me remember how much I missed the south. The palms, the endless ocean, white sand beaches, and new places and their history is always inspiring for me, as are walks on the beach and zoning out a bit. I’ve been reading more short stories lately—SCAD alum Halle Hill’s debut collection Good Women inspired me to look at each sentence I write and see how I can dive deeper into what I’m saying. I’ve recently finished Sunburn by Chloe Michelle Howarth and the smooth prose also inspired me to sit heavily not only into the overall themes of my writing, but the sentence-level attention to detail too.

Are there any writers or publications living rent-free in your head? What is it about them that captivates you? 

I’ve loved Pat Conroy for over a decade and his work is still a huge inspiration and motivator for me. On a sentence level, he wrote with such beauty and honor of the craft, and I think that kind of care is what draws readers in. I also constantly think of I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman and Beartown by Frederik Backman—talk about captivating and packing a punch in an economical number of words! In short, the story matters to me, but the craft of it all, the precision and love at the sentence-level, that’s what I live for.

What projects are you working on right now?

I’ve got a few that I’m toying with, some short stories and some essays, focusing on the small turning points that change a person and how humans connect and reconnect with themselves and with others. The feeling of fitting in or not fitting in also shows up in my pieces whether I think about it consciously or not. I’m planning some longer works that delve into the realm of science fiction with themes around bodily autonomy and policing. 

Do you have any writing advice? 

When you have an idea, whether it be a sentence, or a character quirk, write it down! It seems simple, but I would always tell myself I’d write it down later and then it would be gone. I’ve got bits and pieces in my phone, on scraps of paper, in margins of other things. You never know when you’ll need it!

We’re interested in themes of change here at TTLJ. What changes have you experienced lately, and how/have they influenced your work? 

Change is one of my favorite things to ponder! I’ve changed how I look at my writing, how I do it, why I still want to do it. A big change in my life has been moving, as I’ve been moving quite a bit since 2019. New scenery, people, streets, and the like are great for me to think of new things while also enjoying a new place. 

How do you define change? 

Change can both be the scariest and the most exciting part of life. I define it as how we grow as people. Not experiencing even a bit of change makes, for me, an unfulfilled life. 

Is there anything you wish you could change? 

I wish I could change the feeling of being an imposter, like you’re not good enough. That could go for anything, but especially for writing. It’s always a good reminder to know that writing is art, and art is subjective. If someone doesn’t like it but you do, that’s okay; as long as you’re proud of your work and are striving to get better and to continue making that art, you’re set.

We’re searching for good news. Is there anything you’ve been celebrating recently? 

My nomination for a Pushcart Prize by The Turning Leaf Journal is huge for me and continues to be something I’m grateful for and excited for all the time. One of my poems, “An unlikely place for a panic attack is Belle Tire,” was recently featured in the anthology Tangled Lives, edited by Teresa Berkowitz, who edits the amazing Tangled Locks Journal, where the poem first appeared. I’ve also got a lot of travel coming up, for work and for fun, and I’m celebrating the final days of winter!

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