Your story in Subtropics 13, “In the Olympic Village,” takes a look at the more fallible, vulnerable side of Olympic athletes. What sports, teams, or athletes drew you to this subject? If there were an Olympics where anything in existence could be considered a sport (speed-reading, pea-eating, etc.), what would your “sport” be?
Continue readingRegarding “A Guide to Famous Stabbings,” did you know how the story would end when you began?
As usual, no. One has the impression short stories are sufficiently short that writers know their endings before starting out—that in fact they must know—but in reality this isn’t always the case. An idea for an ending often comes along in the process of composition—that, or an idea other than the one you had in mind comes along and proves superior. Ah, the mysteries of writing…
I’m interested in the way writers come about themes, especially for a book length collection of poems. I noticed that many of your poems in National Anthem seem to have political undertones (or at least are very suggestive of war), as well as “Recent History” in Subtropics 10. I was wondering how you came to write about this theme? And did you have a certain way of approaching it?
Continue readingMost people I know from Portland are actually from somewhere else. Are you from somewhere else? If so, what brought you to the rainy city? If you’re a native, what keeps you there?
Continue readingYour poem Fledgling, featured in Subtropics Issue 19, features various warnings and consequences in the form of commands or statements, as shown in the lines, “Do not leave unlocked the front gate. / You will grow cuts.” What inspired the poem and how did you choose this structure to convey it?
Continue readingYou mentioned that many of your stories take place in Miami. What about that city inspires your fiction?
Continue readingThis story achieves an admirable balance between Chinasa’s everyday life and larger global problems—particularly some that are occurring in Nigeria. What are the challenges of writing about broader political/historical conflicts while keeping the focus on a character’s more specific and personal struggle? Do you think a fiction writer has a responsibility to connect these spheres in ways other writing cannot?
Continue readingIn “Infinite Village,” there is a passage toward the end of the essay where you describe a feeling of peace that has come over you. This feeling seems to originate in a momentary shedding of your own identity and the trying on of a new one. You are wearing a long coat and baggy pants—an outfit similar to the one Fitim’s sister is wearing earlier in the essay. In the passage at the end of the essay, you write that, contrary to your independent American rearing, part of you wishes to relinquish your American-ness and to become a full member of this close-knit community of people you are living among—even if that means a rejection of certain values you deem fundamental. Perhaps I’ve answered my own question, but what keeps you from actually trying it?
Continue readingIn “Cabins,” I’m really interested in the masculinity of your narrator. I like how he has this somewhat Hemingway-identified vision of self-sufficiency—and, perhaps, what Rachel Maddow would call a man-cave—but he is really tender and sensitive. Can you speak to his masculinity? Any masculinity?
Continue readingTell us about the genesis of your story.
I had been toying with three ideas at the time–the road, Prasanna’s character and the idea of a vanishing twin. I was working on them as separate pieces at first but after a number of drafts they started coming together.
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