Discussing affection amidst harshness: Q&A with Katya Adaui on bestowing a title to your isle
In a thick, layered style, I weave my own narrative gold, returning to characteristics left behind for depth and depth finding opportunities. It's an exhilarating, curious process. My characters arrive smack-dab in the middle of it all, yet I've given them a past, stirred their desires for the future, and planted seeds of possibility. It all builds to give the reader a sense of the true experience.**
The interest in narrating the everyday, the details we take for granted, and the moments we overlook even as they pass us by in plain sight? It's like the arsenal of adult comfort objects - jewelry, knick-knacks, perfumes, or that beloved, ancient cookbook in the kitchen corner. Each item tells a story, one that speaks to a personality, route, interests, societal standing, anxieties, affection, health, dreams, and more.
Who's the storyteller? Is it someone I discover during the writing, or do I decide in advance? It's finding a voice that fits the narrative like a glove. I relish this stage because I get to craft their language, the one that weaves the world of the story together.**
The narration is rich with subtle suggestions of background threats, things that simmer on the edges without being spelled out. It harks back to the many derivations of language I'm always thinking about. Language has so many potential hues, rhythms, and dimensions. Make it fluid, let it sway with a sensuality that hypnotizes.**
"I have no words," someone might say, but there are always words - they just need time, thought, and an understanding heart to form them. Literature is about miscommunication and confusion as much as understanding. It's about exploring the journey between misunderstood ideas and finding harmony.**
"A Name for Your Island" isn't just about physical travel leading to emotional growth; it's about personal growth within familiar landscapes too. I wanted to explore the desire to uncover new parts of life paralleling this thirst for escape and adventure.**
The book also honors objects and places. They aren't merely decorative, but an integral part of each story's world. Objects have the power to speak volumes about the people who use them.* In "Isla Grande," the concept of an "anniversary of memory" is central. What role do memories and nostalgia play in each story, and what part do they play in shaping one's history?
From memories, snippets of conversation, speculations, I weave, dismantle, and reassemble until it clicks. I delve into dialogues and actions to ensure individuality and life for each character.**
The phrase, "If there is shadow, there is light," resonates through the stories, highlighting the fragility and resilience of the human spirit. I write to create a more compassionate narrative, to build up people doing good things in a less-than-positive world.**
"Camalotes" speaks of a character feeling surrounded, trapped, and isolated at the same time. Perhaps the characters in the book as a whole experience this sensation in their own ways.**
People today are blinded by the appearances on social media, easily swayed by smiles and toasts. But I wanted to probe the desire to travel beyond fame, to experience new places and moments with the sincerity of a first-timer or last-timer. This longing, the inability or unwillingness to accept detours or frustrations as opportunities, forms the core of many stories in "A Name for Your Island."**
The narrative delves into the characters' diverse cultures, societal standings, and interests, as these aspects shape their lives and personal growth, just like unique objects tell stories about their owners and their lives.
The exploration of travel in "A Name for Your Island" isn't just about physical ventures but also the journey within familiar landscapes, discovering new parts of oneself parallel to the thirst for adventure and escape.
