Toby Goostree, a white man with blond hair, stands with his hands in his pockets. He's wearing all black and standing on a wooden bridge with autumn trees behind him.
Toby Goostree

Managing Editor Lisa Ampleman: Last week I read CR contributor Toby Goostree’s debut poetry collection, But There’s So Much DIY in IVF That We Can’t Be Sure (Fernwood Press, 2024), and admired its portrayal of the complex emotions a couple might have during infertility treatments (see his poem “Follistim Pen” as an example). I was glad to see his poem “The Blessing,” which appeared in our Issue 15.1, and I was intrigued when I read in his bio that he works in financial services. I reached out to ask about that work and his creative life, as the latest in our Writers’ Day Jobs series:

How would you describe what you do for your day job?

I own a small financial planning practice that I bought from my dad after nearly two decades of working together. I work with about eighty-five families, one-third of which are multigenerational, making investments for them and being a thought partner on issues of risk, tax, and estate planning.

What do you enjoy about that job, and what are some of its detractions?

My favorite thing about my job is that people seek my advice. Because I can’t provide good counsel without asking a lot of questions, I get to be nosy. That’s a close second. The challenge, of course, is that even with complete current information, I can’t know the future, and so the work is never done. There’s no such thing as closure in the work that I do, and sometimes I get tired.

How, if at all, does your day job inform—or relate to—your writing life?

Curiosity and action are at the heart of both my work as a financial advisor and my writing life. This works for me as I don’t find either fully satisfying without the other.

What creative projects are you working on right now?

My recently released first book, But There’s So Much DIY in IVF That We Can’t Be Sure, dominated both my writing life and my real life for the better half of a decade. It was story-oriented, and I couldn’t think about a single poem without thinking about them all. Now, I’m working in the opposite manner, writing individual poems that close their garage doors upon arriving home at the end of the day. It’s a nice break from poems that needed to talk to one another and interact.

Toby Goostree received his MFA from the University of Arizona and his poems have appeared in The Cincinnati ReviewThe Midwest QuarterlyHarbor Review, and others. He lives in Kansas City.