Interview: Novelist Aria Bennett on Craft, Rituals, and Silence

Aria Bennett's latest novel arrived to critical acclaim, praised for its precision and emotional clarity. In this interview she discusses craft, the reading life, and the daily practices that keep words flowing.

On beginnings

readings.space: Many writers describe their work starting from an image or a voice. How does a project begin for you?

Aria Bennett: It usually starts with a small sound — a fragment of dialogue or a gesture. I carry that fragment like a pebble in my pocket. Over months, it begins to acquire weight and landscape. I read widely during that time — not to emulate, but to keep the muscles warm.

Routine and ritual

readings.space: Do you have fixed rituals?

Aria Bennett: I protect mornings. From 6:00 to 9:00 I do not check email. I brew a single cup of tea, sit by the window, and write. It’s less about time and more about the boundaries that allow thought to accumulate. Ritual is a way of making the mind expect creativity.

On silence and reading

readings.space: How important is silence to your reading and writing?

Aria Bennett: Immensely. Silence is where the echoes settle. I read aloud when I’m drafting because sound reveals cadences you don’t notice on the page. Listening to one’s own sentences is a form of editing as you write.

Influences

readings.space: Which writers shaped you most?

Aria Bennett: It’s an odd list: Szymborska for her compression, Baldwin for moral clarity, and a local poet who taught me that an image can be an argument. I read across genres. Each form teaches different kinds of attention.

On doubt

readings.space: How do you handle doubt in the middle of a project?

Aria Bennett: I reframe it as inquiry. When I feel stuck or self-critical, I try a small experiment: change tense, remove a scene, or write a letter from one character to another. The experiment is permission to be curious rather than perfect.

Advice for readers who want to write

Aria Bennett: Read like a practitioner. Pay attention to paragraph breaks, rhythm, and the decisions a writer makes about what to leave out. Then start with small, repeatable practices — five sentences a day — and protect them.

Final question: What are you reading now?

Aria Bennett: A translation of a 19th-century naturalist diary and a contemporary essay collection. I enjoy the tension between observation and argument. It keeps my own sentences honest.

This conversation is an invitation to take small, protective actions around reading and writing. As Bennett suggests, habits and curiosity matter more than grand gestures.