Throwback: “Retrace Your Steps (Once) (And Again…Just to Make Sure)”: Attic Rain by Samantha Jones

Wait—you forgot something! Or did you? No, no. You’re good.

(Right?)

Have you ever felt a growing unease as if something’s missing, no matter how small it might be? And sure, it might not be life-altering (in hindsight), but the longer you’re in this state of limbo, the more your apprehension seems to grow. Everything feels off because you’ve accidentally overlooked something (even if you didn’t, you swear). Check once, twice, thrice to reassure yourself the door’s locked. Then do it again, just to make sure. Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) can often feel like that; repetitive actions sometimes motivated by anxieties are intertwined with the day-to-day bustle, navigating ways to lessen the burden of idealization and societal expectations.

But this isn’t something that should inhibit you from being present in your own life and striving for more. In fact, it’s something that you should be kind to yourself about. Especially in a world that defaults to a rigid structure of “normalcy” and its ever-moving parameters to exclude and condemn. That’s where Samantha Jones’ debut full-length poetry collection, Attic Rain, comes in.

In fact, it’s something that you should be kind to yourself about. Especially in a world that defaults to a rigid structure of “normalcy” and its ever-moving parameters to exclude and condemn.

Samantha Jones is an earth scientist, writer and editor based in Moh’kins’tsis (Calgary, Alberta) on the traditional territory of Treaty 7 peoples and the home of Métis Nation of Alberta, District 5 and 6. Currently a PhD candidate in Geography at the University of Calgary, Jones is talented and insightful with a unique voice. Proud of her Black Canadian and white settler heritage, she offers her own perspective as someone with OCD and the sometimes confusing feelings that accompany it. Her works have been included in Room, THIS, CV2 and Arctic to name a few.

I love Attic Rain immensely. It’s heartfelt, soulful and the author’s feelings are ensconced in the pages with careful consideration. Her honesty is captured so beautifully that you’re drawn into each poem without even knowing it. With poetry being an experimental space to push boundaries and ideas; form and structure are the poet’s playground. Poems like “How to Leave the Home Three Times at Once (Refrain)” and “Shared Office (Refrain)” is riddled with the overwhelming repetition to do things until it becomes a blur of letters and scribbled over words; unrecognizable to others but sensible to yourself. Actions so deeply rooted in your bones that it doesn’t need to be acknowledged—it’s expected, even. These same habits of double-checking and overwriting manifest in the words themselves, revealing to us that there are moments that are uncontrollable. You’re able to appreciate and see how these habits can take precedence over initial plans (or, in this case, stanzas).

Indentations, spacing, italicization, rhyming schemes and careful structure work almost harmoniously in this collection and you can’t help but marvel at the layers of depth it adds to everything. Jones’ thoughts will feel restless, abrupt and suddenly intercepted with another thought halfway through. Her mind is full of different ideas and not settling on just one. Other times, it’ll feel syrupy-slow and contemplative where her thoughts will slip through the cracks of her routines randomly like respite. But not once do we, as readers, feel disconnected. Instead, we witness the inner machinations, raw and unfiltered, of what her mind processes; seeing just how vibrant and active it is.

Her mind is full of different ideas and not settling on just one.

Attic Rain brought a refreshing authenticity that I didn’t want to part with. Sometimes you’d smile or hum in agreement with how relatable the poems are. Her internal checklists feel musical—taking quick beats of rest, changing tempo, repetition or changing the pitch. And she’s the conductor, controlling the orchestra but sometimes giving space to allow improvisation. Samantha Jones brings raw vulnerability into her collection. Using illustrations and graphs, as seen in “Floor Plans”, are riddled with heavy black lines representing the frequent steps and the order of significance to her. Almost like a stream of consciousness, these poems are organized but chaotic, a common feeling to many.

This poetry collection exudes empathy with a quiet confidence for both inside and outside the OCD community. OCD takes centre stage but in no way does Jones write for the behalf of everyone. She doesn’t inflate her position, only using her poetry to shed light on the difference it can be for each person and bridging the gap in understanding those intricacies. Her artistry further resonates with others because of this.

OCD takes centre stage but in no way does Jones write for the behalf of everyone. She doesn’t inflate her position, only using her poetry to shed light on the difference it can be for each person and bridging the gap in understanding those intricacies.

In the same breath, favourites like “Inseparable” and “Something Something Tip of the Iceberg” share the same meaning of resilience. Despite the anxieties that can become overwhelming, it shouldn’t be the only thing that defines you. You’re in control. You will bounce back from pressure, stronger and more prepared than before. These hidden layers are a part of all of us; beautiful, interesting and, I’ll admit, sometimes painful, but we shouldn’t have to neglect them. It may not be easy, nor will it be linear. Samantha Jones’ Attic Rain prompts us to make peace with ourselves, even through self-doubt. To remember love, self-compassion and patience being vital parts to understanding ourselves and all our complexities.

Samantha Jones (she/her) is an earth scientist, writer, and editor based in Moh’kins’tsis (Calgary, Alberta). She describes herself as mixed-race, or both Black Canadian and white settler, with roots in Nova Scotia, Québec, and Ontario. Her full-length poetry collection, Attic Rain, as well as her two experimental poetry chapbooks Site Orientation (The Blasted Tree) and wallpaper (Model Press) explore her lived experience with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Sam is one of six members in the Land and Labour Poetry Collective who co-edited the poetry anthology I’ll Get Right on It: Poems on Working Life in the Climate Crisis, forthcoming with Roseway Publishing. She is a magazine and journal enthusiast with work in the Fiddlehead, Room, THIS, CV2, EVENT, the Capilano Review, GeoHumanities, and elsewhere. Sam has a BSc. (Hons.) in Earth Sciences from Dalhousie University and an MSc. in Geology with a specialization in Planetary Science from the University of Calgary. She completed the Creative Writing Certificate through Continuing Education at the University of Calgary and is an alumna of the Iceland Writers Retreat and the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity Spring Writers Retreat. She is currently a PhD Candidate in Geography (University of Calgary) and will be joining the Health Arts Research Centre at the University of Northern British Columbia as a postdoctoral scholar in the fall of 2025.

Publisher: NeWest Press (September 1, 2024)
Paperback 9″ x 6″ | 112 pages
ISBN: 9781774390986

Alicia Beggs-Holder

With a BA in English from Toronto Metropolitan University, Alicia Beggs-Holder has experience editing and reviewing various literary works. Possessed with boundless curiosity, she’s an avid pursuer of anything interesting. From folklore to insects, she’s a “spooky” enthusiast with a passion for all literature and writing short stories or dabbling in traditional art.