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With “Flight,” as with all my short stories, I trusted the characters and listened to them and let them guide me. It isn’t until I am done with a story that I start seeing the patterns of a theme. Maybe it’s just my present; constantly fighting for comfort and freedom, constantly prising the hands of oppressive systems and structures open so that I can have these things—comfort and freedom, that seeps into my writing.
It can be so tough to be motivated during these times, and I know the notions of productive or creative can be barriers to everyone right now. We’re all adjusting our pace, practice, and tolerance for creation, and I’m fortunate that a lot of pre-pandemic work is coming around now, where I can edit and advocate rather than feel the pressure of new ideas for an uncertain future.
Writing a story in complete Patois had been done; writing small segments of a story in Patois I’d done in “The Ace Of Knives,” my first ever published story. But actively switching between standard English and Patois? I hadn’t seen that done yet. So I’m assuming that’s how it got started, because I’m always striving to do something I hadn’t done previously in my work.
Oz’s diary entries, the concrete reminder of the countdown to his intended suicide, are things to be burned. They’re too painful to keep in any shape or form, even in memory; better to let them go, turn them into ash, till them back into the soil. His old name, on the other hand, is simply something to be left behind—something that was useful once, that holds memories both good and bad, but that he doesn’t need or want anymore.
I certainly can’t cook as well as Yun San, nor am I as fierce as Jin. The main thing I have in common with Yun San is her love of food – the favour she asks Jin, in the end, would be the same thing I would’ve asked for in her shoes. Chinese Imperial cuisine has resulted in a number of popular dishes today, some of which are my favourites, like Peking duck. As with Yun San, I also feel that it’s regrettable that some people treasure monuments and inanimate treasures more than our biodiversity.
My inability to focus and lack of free time make very short stories ideal because I can actually finish them. They also just come more naturally to me because my current strengths as a storyteller are turns of phrase, evocative descriptions—elements that can make a short-short sparkle but can’t prop up a longer piece. As for composing a successful story in such a short space, I’m no expert, but I try to listen to people who are.
I think one of the most complex issues about living in a collectivist society (which is the case for many African countries) is that you’re constantly taught that everything you do affects everyone, and all your choices must be made to respect/consider others in your family. I think this is pretty much a double edged sword—yes we should definitely take into account our family members and other people around us when we make some choices, but a lot of times this idea robs us of our own sense of choice and can be weaponized against us.
One of my favourite things is the idea of empathy as an aesthetic. To be a good storyteller in my opinion, is to be open to world views outside your own; this creates room for you to love your wholly human characters even when you don’t agree with them. The vulnerability part, I think, is the willingness to put the hard parts of yourself on the page.
Storytelling is a practice in my culture that is always a conversation between different generations and different beings—it is a conversation that takes place across time and space. I wanted to reflect that very organically in this piece.
From the title onward, this is a story built in stark, vivid color. The white train, the black feathers, the red western sky. How important was the visual landscape of “Black, Their Regalia” to the inception of your story? “Black, Their Regalia” was inspired by the colors in my home. One morning, I opened my […]
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This issue's cover art by
Thana Wong / Adobe Stock Image.
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