“The main thing that’s changed over the period of time in which these poems were written is that I care a lot less about being capital-P Poetic than I used to. This is most likely due to a combination of leaving an academic environment and discovering a whole wealth of lesser-known indie poets (and prose writers too) online whose work absolutely punched my gut and yet seemed totally unconcerned with whether or not it was ‘doing enough’ in terms of craft.”
Lyrical, brooding, and delightfully dreamlike, the novel is a strange and ruthless journey into the ailing heart of humanity—and a bizarre peek into the mind of a brilliant new novelist.
The raw energy within the novel is uncontaminated, fierce, and dedicated toward a singular purpose: to peel back the reader’s eyes and force them to bear witness to the plight of America’s original inhabitants, lest we forget that non-natives are but immigrants or the descendants of immigrants to this country.
“Being alone with our thoughts and feelings is an act of self-possession. In the book, I definitely was exploring the idea that women can find strength in silence, particularly as a refusal to engage with what doesn’t serve them.”
“I think in part because this is my first novel, I struggled a bit with the problem of suspension of disbelief. I had this feeling that I needed somehow to justify the piece. It is an improbable story—as many novels are!—and I think I was afraid readers wouldn’t ‘believe’ it. So I think I compensated for that by playing around with various metafictional elements.”