Clem MacLeod
on reading and writing.
A conversation with Clem MacLeod. Unpicking the written word, diversifying literary culture and the importance of growing a tangible community.
“I don’t think of reading as leisure time or wasted time and especially not downtime. The total time of a book is more like uptime than downtime, in the way that salmon swim upstream to get home.”
Jeanette Winterson’s words look out from behind a lick of fluorescent orange highlighter. I’m reading a passage from Clem MacLeod’s copy of “A bed. A book. A mountain”, from a series of photographs she’s uploaded to Instagram, captioned “Really annoyed I didn’t write this myself tbh.” Winterson’s afterword, enhanced by the energy of orange scribbles, establishes the restorative power of books, poetry and words.
Clem is a writer who writes about reading and writing. Celebrating the written word is inherent to her character. She composes and publishes a bi-annual magazine alongside publishing fiction, creating fertile ground where poetry, fiction, photo diaries and artist journals can flourish.
Worms, founded in 2019, is Clem’s magazine and publishing company. It promotes new voices in literature and brings innovative writing to the literary topsoil. Experimental conversations of literary practices, artists, writers, books, libraries, and language are spoken through the voices of women, non-binary and underrepresented writers. Shared through Worms’ magazine, podcast, workshops and journal, Macleod’s love for reading and writing has grown into something tangible, to be shared with everyone.
My conversation with Clem opens with delayed laughter as our computers connect from opposite ends of the world. Its 10am for me, in London, and 9pm for Clem, who is in Australia. She smiles into the camera warmly, as if we’ve met before. Behind her, wild floral wallpaper appears to dance around her shoulders.
Worms Magazine started as Clem’s final project when studying fashion journalism in London. “I was obsessed with books”, she explains to me. “So, I made this literary magazine knowing that there would be a community of writers in London I could discover through it.” And so, the seed for Worms was planted. Literary focused, with a style twist, set on showcasing and discovering new talent. Clem’s distinctive move away from traditional fashion journalism gained its own momentum through the support and interest of a new community, united by an interest in reading words by female and non-binary writers.
One of the joys of Worms is that it is completely unpretentious, welcoming readers and writers from all levels of experience. Clem’s community of bookworms are supported to consume and create writing, disregarding any academic egotism associated with literature. The message, simply, is that writing is for everyone. Community is central to Worms. There’s an emphasis on the need for physical, tactile relationships and interactions, learnt through three initial years of publishing during a global pandemic. The solitude of isolation meant that Worms’ online community bloomed, but naturally, as did the need for something physical.
‘Earworms’ was born of this realisation. Clem’s in-person workshops offer ambient music, storytelling prompts, and most importantly, an environment that encourages people to hang out and write. Appropriately, it was a book that inspired Clem’s workshops. Julia Cameron’s ‘Artists Way’, a twelve-week course of discovering your creativity, ignited ideas for Write What’s Right, Write for Wellbeing, and Earworms’ upcoming event, Write the Wordless. In our digital age, Clem’s dedication to celebrating the written word as a source of restoration and connection is both refreshing and vital.
Asserting her own vulnerability is what makes Clem’s editorial choices and written work feel so raw. Her position is not to judge, but empathise, helping others explore traits they consider negative and channel them into positivity. “A lot of creative people have very sensitive minds – I want to show that they can use this sensitivity positively, rather than feeling like a victim of having a brain that fixates on something.”
Worms Magazine spotlights writers who are both established and up-and-coming, and so diversifying the already rich compost of voices Clem has curated.
“I wanted Worms to be something that made books and literature not scary, because there’s this weird hierarchical, intellectualism when it comes to literature.”
By putting bigger names like like Chris Kraus, Eileen Myles and Maggie Nelson next to writers that have never been published before, Clem offers the opportunity for smaller writers to be seen, and blossom alongside their established counterparts. With each issue of Worms Magazine, each workshop, and each podcast episode, Clem nourishes the literary landscape, enriching it with fresh perspectives and untold stories.
“With established writers, I feel like I’m getting more of an insight into writing, and when I’m working with new writers, I’m enamoured by the person-who they are and how they end up writing. They always have an interesting story, and that’s what makes the difference. I’m not so interested in the writers’ story if they’re established, but if they’re a young writer I feel more intrigued.”
Clem and her team at Worms offer literary recommendations via ‘the Wormhole’. We spoke about a book called ‘How To Do Nothing’, by Jenny Odell. “It changed my life. Odell talks about how we think in the terms of a capitalist society – productivity equals making money. But she thinks that what’s truly productive is doing something that is not considered to have any monetary value. So, she loves watching birds. Sitting there and looking at the birds is good for her head, but she’s not getting anything out of it.” It’s clear that true love for the written word is what propels Clem forward, carving out new paths and inviting others to join her on the journey. Her words remind me that the true value of literature lies not in its exclusivity or intellectualism but in its ability to nourish our souls, spark our imaginations, and unite us in our shared humanity.
What’s next for you, Clem?
“For me.... More writing about art! And I’m working on a series of essays- writing about reading and writing! That’s an ongoing thing that I’ll probably always do. I’ll probably never publish it. Or maybe I will!”
Clem’s deep appreciation for the transformative power of literature echoes Jeanette Winterson’s metaphor of books as a river, where the total time spent immersed in them is akin to uptime rather than downtime.