 Hi, welcome to the All Things LGBTQ Interview Show where we interview LGBTQ guests who are making important contributions to our communities. All Things LGBTQ is taped at Orca Media in Montpelier, Vermont, which we recognize as being unceded indigenous land. Thanks for joining us and enjoy the show. Hi, everybody. I'm here with Meka Jamila Sullivan, who is a very distinguished figure on the literary scene and a lot of exciting events are occurring involving the paperback release of her excellent novel, Big Girl, which we will, I know, the hardcover came out a year ago and there were all kinds of launches and I was privileged enough to read it in hardback, but now there's going to be a whole new cycle of launches with the paperback edition. We've got a really busy schedule in June. It's exciting. I can't wait. Let me, for viewers who don't know, let me read a short bio if you don't mind. Meka Jamila Sullivan PhD is the author of the novel Big Girl published by Norton in 2022, a New York Times editor's choice selection, and a best books pick from Time, Essence, Vulture, Ms. Goodreads, Libraryreadsandshereads.com. It's been also nominated for several noteworthy awards. Her previous books are the Poetics of Difference, Queer Feminist Forms in the African Diaspora, Winner of the MLA William Sanders Scarborough Prize, and the Short Story Collection, Bluetalk and Love in 2015, Winner of the Judith Markowitz Award for Fiction from Land Literary, and if I just may add, I love that collection. One of your interviewers said that one thing that's really striking is that the characters live with you after you've, I mean, it's really, really impactful, and the characters live in the story. You know, I still remember the stories that were hitting me. Thank you. That means a lot to me. Good. Her writing has appeared in Best New Writing, Kenyan Review, American Fiction, Prairie Schooner, Callaloo, Crab Orchard Review, The Cut, American Literary History, Black Futures, American Quarterly, GLQ, Lesbian and Gay Studies Quarterly, Ebony, The Root, and others. So you are very prolific. You've earned honors from the Center for Fiction, the American Association of University Women, the Institute for Citizens and Scholars, and the National Endowment for the Arts. Your novel Big Girl was a phenomenal book club pick, and in WNYC 2022 debut selection. Of the novel author and activist Janice Mock, whom our audience probably knows, observes Big Girl, gifts us a heroine carrying the weight of worn out ideas who dares to defy the compulsion to shrink, and in turn teaches us to pursue our fullest, most desirous selves without shame. While author Taise Lehmann says there are three books on earth that I would give anything to be able to write and reread until the sun burns up, Big Girl is one of those books. Do you have to know what the other two are? I know. I'm so curious. I hope so when they have the chance to ask him. It's just such a tremendous honor to be at that and to have work in someone's mind in that way. It's fantastic. He continues, a new American classic that we as a country and culture desperately need, and that I can't underscore that point if I agree. Mecca is an associate professor of English at Georgetown University, born and raised in Harlem, New York. She currently lives in Washington, DC, and your academic pedigree is that you have a BA from Smith and an MFA from Temple and a PhD from University of Pennsylvania, very illustrious. That's right. So welcome. Thank you so much, and I'm excited to have this conversation. Well I was excited that you accepted our invitation, and I'm very excited by the book and by your writing that I've had a chance to look at over the last year, including your introduction to the letters of Pat Parker and Audrey Lord that Julie entered. Did you edit it with her or did you? No, no, I just wrote the introduction. I mean, she did such a fantastic job in editing that collection of letters. The correspondence between the two of them was just fantastic, and it was such an honor to write that introduction. I know it, and I learned many things. Yeah, me too. I mean, I reread it pretty often, and I think it's like any great literature really that you learn something new every time you read it, even though this is this, you know, sort of set of letters between these two incredible colleagues and friends. I know. I know. Great loss. Yeah. Did you know her? You're too young, probably. No, I didn't. No, I didn't. I think we have the privilege of hearing her read so often when I lived in Boston. I learned. Yeah. But I didn't know her. So let's get to the book. You've experienced the first book launch and you've been touring and you've been well reviewed and interviewed a lot in the critical reception so far to the novel. Have there been any surprises? You know, that's a great question. I mean, in some ways, no, you know, as an artist and as a writer, you know, just the fact that people are reading honestly feels like such a gift, and that's not lost on me. And that's sort of that never gets old. So every time I get to talk to someone who's actually read my work, you know, that just there's something very special about those conversations, even when they're happening in print. Right. So print reviews. So from that standpoint, you know, I think every time I feel that it's a similar kind of feeling in terms of the content and the kind of, you know, the kind of details of the reception. I guess the only thing that has stood out to me that was maybe a little bit surprising early on was that, you know, readers tend to kind of have one of two responses to some of the more challenging material in the novel. I think some readers tend to sort of see it as a kind of, you know, sort of steeped in reflections on pain, on trauma, on the kind of intergenerational trauma that we experience around body shame, shame around gender, around sexuality. And I think others, other readers to see it are more sort of, see it more readily as a kind of a chronicling of the sort of processing of that trauma and moving toward joy, right? And sort of really seeing the joy, the pleasure, the kind of vibrancy of the novel. And so it has been interesting to see how readers, you know, what kind of path readers take in coming to the, again, the healing, right, the kind of the joy, the vibrancy. I think the reflections on pain, on trauma and sadness are tough for some readers, but eventually they all, you know, in my experience at least, everyone sort of gets to, you know, what I hope is at the core of the novel, this sense of joy that cannot actually be sort of beaten out by trauma, right? That the joy is there in the beginning and, you know, not to spoil, but it's certainly there in the end, right? That's the kind of journey that the character is taking. So it's been interesting to see how readers sort of navigate that trajectory. Do you think in your in-person events, have people felt the need to share their own trauma about weight issues? Oh, yeah. I've heard, I mean, it's, and it's really, you know, it, it's an interesting experience, right? I mean, I wrote this book because I, I needed it and I knew that if I needed it, it meant that others needed it too, but it really isn't until, again, you sort of connect with readers and you see just how many people around the country from different walks of life. And, you know, I'm talking about people of all ages, all backgrounds, really connecting with this sense of body shame, with body stigma, and also with that sort of kernel of, you know, of joy, of kind of like self-satisfaction, that sense of, you know, a kind of commitment to oneself that is always there, even in the face of all these external pressures that, you know, seek to maybe shrink us as that great quote from Janet Moxas, right? So, you know, that's something that I knew I connected with and I had an inkling that, of course, in American culture, this is something that we know queer people deal with, that women deal with, that, you know, a bunch of sort of marginalized people deal with, and yet seeing that and, you know, talking to folks, right? Face to face, hearing everyone's stories. It is, it's a powerful thing and it is a lot to hold sometimes, but it's not that difficult when you, you know, for me at least to put it in context and realize, this is why I wrote the book, right? I wrote the book because this is a story that so many of us share and being able to create a space for folks to kind of think about what that means in their lives, that's, that's a real honor, you know, and something I take very seriously. Um, is it a queer novel? And if so, in what way? Oh, it's a curious question. Yes, it is super queer. Uh, it is a very queer novel, I would say in a lot of ways, but particularly because, you know, it follows a character named Malaya Clondon, right? A big black girl through her childhood as an eight-year-old into her teenage years, and of course in her teenage years is when she really sort of starts to come into a sense of her erotic identity, as is the case for a lot of folks. But the truth is, her sort of connection with this idea of a forbidden desire, that's with her very early on. The idea that what she wants, what her body wants, is forbidden, is illicit and is wrong, right? That's a sense, that's her part of her sort of orientation into the world from a very young age. And of course, I imagine this resonates with a lot of people who, you know, have had those kinds of forbidden desires, illicit desires, maybe even before they had language for them, right? This is Malaya's experience. So although she's queer in a few ways, right, she's queer in the sense that she's sort of, you know, having kind of like erotic play with her, you know, her homegirl from down the block as a child, right? That turns into, like, you know, sort of real sexual contacts and sexual sort of experiences with the same character. So it's queer in that way. But also, and I think in some ways, you know, on a deeper level, that sense that Malaya is constantly grappling with other people's ideas of what her body should want, what her body should do, who she should be essentially, right? What kind of gender she should inhabit, that this is the, this is her coming of age, is sort of defining all of those things for herself. And of course, you know, that's a kind of hallmark of the queer coming of age novel, right? And this is absolutely Malaya's story. And there's that scene at the Christopher Cat bar, which I loved. You grew up in Harlem, right? I sure did. And spent a whole lot of time hanging out in the village. So yeah. Well, you've agreed to read a little passage for us, if you wouldn't mind, and to give us a flavor of the language. Yes, absolutely. And my hope is that this section sort of gives a taste of that, her kind of secret pleasure taken in illicit bodily desire. So this is at the very start of the novel, there's not much setup that's needed. Malaya and her family have moved to Harlem recently from the Lower East Side, and she is with her mother, she's eight years old, she's with her mother at a Weight Watchers meeting. Well, don't everybody speak up at once now. Miss Adelaide, the meeting leader, laughed over the collar of her lavender suit. Malaya sat in a sea of fat women on folding chairs and watched Miss Adelaide walk to the front. Miss Adelaide caressed the plastic easel, flipping back a page marked emotional triggers pie chart and exposing his sheet as clean and white as the face of a new tub of cool whip. She stood there, her hips sloped prettily out before her arms loose and easy along her waist. Come on, ladies, don't be shy. Miss Adelaide shifted into another breathtakingly casual pose, resting her weight on one tall plum-colored high heel and letting a hand float up to stroke the paper. I want you to think about your favorite food. You know, we all have that one food that always gets us in trouble. I want you to think about it. Call it out. Malaya listened, catching a few coughs, small squeakings of the metal seats. The rustling of a paper bag somewhere in the back of the room brought saltwater to Malaya's mouth as she thought of removing french fries from their paper bag. She imagined the strips bending over one another in their red and white striped dish, salt crystals hitting them from all sides and sparkling like glitter. All right, now I know it can be embarrassing. Miss Adelaide leaned back, posed, then moved slowly toward Malaya and her mother, Na'ilah, who sat a seat away to leave room for both their hips, Na'ilah always said. Malaya thought nothing of Miss Adelaide's first steps, except how nice it was the way the tapping of the woman's heels seemed to punctuate the soft rub of her shimmery pantyhose. But within seconds, Malaya could smell Miss Adelaide's perfume in her face and found herself staring directly at the silver buckle on her purple suede belt. Fear frothed up in Malaya's chest as the synthetic cherry stink of Miss Adelaide's uncapped marker prickled the insides of her nostrils. She would lie, she decided. She would disclose a passion for yogurt, welcome and unusual in a girl of eight. Her face puffed with earnestness. She would tell the woman that she was centered, committed and in control, that she'd take fat free frozen yogurt over cookie dough ice cream any day. She would make her mother proud and force this lean purple creature to go back and check her scale. Those red numbers could not be right. This girl could not weigh one hundred sixty eight pounds committed as she was. It was Malaya's specialty, this kind of invention. It was how she helped other children pronounce her name, Malaya, like I don't tell the truth. She parted her lips prepared to declare her fidelity to the program. Miss Adelaide's mouth was plump and her red lipstick looked like jelly sliding over her lip line into her deep brown skin. She tugged at the empty chair from between Malaya and Nayla, gently easing it from between them. I'm sorry, baby, she crewed. Did you want to say something? Malaya's mouth went dry and nearly. She paused wondering if her lies were worth telling now that it was clear she wasn't being asked to give up anything more than an empty chair. She shook her head, no. I'll stop there. Thank you. And then Miss Adelaide appears later in the novel. Yes, she does. Yes, she comes back. She's definitely part of the community and part of the kind of the ethos around weight. Right. She represents so much around weight and food and body. So, yeah, she had to come back and you nailed that whole climate that I personally grew up with women. I think maybe more than men. But that's a generalization, I suppose, but I certainly was subjected to that whole, you know, such a pretty face thing that you know. Oh, my goodness. Right. Right. I think you're right. I think it is gendered, right? I think the way we understand body shaming is absolutely gendered. I will say, though, it's been really interesting in this touring experience. I guess is another thing that has been surprising to a certain degree. How many people of all genders have really connected with this sense of body shame, especially those that grew up in the eighties and nineties before we really had any language for body shame, for fat phobia, for diet culture, right? Sort of in the absence of all of that language, this was just the culture that we all lived in. And so it's been interesting to hear the stories of people who didn't, you know, grow up identifying as girls or as women, but still internalized a lot of that stuff, right? And still had a lot of those same sort of struggles. You know, I haven't a great aunt who is a mom there figure. Oh, wow. You used to say to me, well, you have such small hands and feet. You know, I mean, it's just I really contend that it's maybe one of the most pervasive unnamed forms of prejudice is circulating. I agree. And yet it is named at this point, right? So it is an interesting thing, right? You know, at one point, I do think there was a way that we could say, OK, well, part of how it continues to exist is because we haven't found language for it. And of course, this is what, you know, queer theory and queer activism and feminist activism have told us, like, once we can name it, then we can sort of eradicate it. And yet, you know, yeah, I think it's it's truly it's pervasive. It absolutely is. These are, you know, fat jokes are kind of one of the last bastion of hurtful jokes that are acceptable. Exactly. And if you look at advertising, absolutely. And part of it, I think this is also, I think, a connection to queerness, right? Part of it is that, you know, even within sort of medical, the medical field and medical industry, right, there's this sense that your body shape and size is connected to your morality and that's kind of there's a there's an echo of queer phobia there, right? And lesbophobia and homophobia that, like, if you just were strong enough, or if you were the right kind of person, your body would be something other than it is, right? Transphobia as well, similar kind of narrative. And so I think that that kind of nexus of oppression is all sort of baked into our culture. And again, into, you know, the the kind of ethos of folks that we look to as medical authorities. So I think that that's a big part of it as well. May we switch gears and let me ask you if this novel is a love letter to Harlem? Yes, yes, let's absolutely. Yeah, I mean, I love Harlem, New York, you know, I haven't lived there full time since I was, well, really, since I was just the year after I graduated from college, I'd spent one more year living in Harlem and said I haven't really lived there full time in many, many years. And so I mean, I think in some ways, that's the best distance from which to really write a full, robust love letter, right? That like, you know, there's a sense of a deep connection to Harlem. And also I feel very much aware of, you know, some of the ways in which the Harlem that I knew has changed, right? I wouldn't say it's gone, but it's it's changed. And part of what's happening in this novel is we're seeing that process of gentrification, essentially, right? We're like, you know, small black owned businesses are starting to fade away. We're seeing large kind of chains, you know, sort of supplanting them and replacing them. People are moving out of the neighborhood in droves. New 10 new, you know, neighbors are coming in with a very different kind of regard for the neighborhood or maybe even a disregard for the neighborhood and the people who live there, right? And yet, at the same time, there's this sense of a kind of resistance, there's this sense of Harlem is not going to go down without fighting, right? And so there's this, you know, there's a again, a kind of vitality even in there is to resist gentrification, to resist erasure. And in some ways, that mirrors Malaya's story, right? That even as external forces are kind of trying to change her trying to make her into what they want her to be, there's something in her that's not going to let that happen, not entirely, right? And she's going to sort of control her own story as much as she can from a really kind of creative place within. So yeah, it's my love letter to Harlem as it was Harlem as it is, and also to the kind of, you know, long trajectory of this, you know, very deeply storied neighborhood that means so much to me personally. One of the most moving passages, which is kind of heartbreaking is Nila's conversation about how, you know, she and her husband, Percy, bought the brownstone and all their hopes and that they didn't expect to be equipped themselves. But you're you turn that around your right and make it accepting and accepting even of gentrification. Yeah, I mean, I think it's always that's the story of gentrification. It's interesting. I live in DC right now in a neighborhood called Columbia Heights. And it's got a very similar story in some ways to the story of Harlem, right? Where, you know, on one hand, when middle class, when black folks who have access to kind of class mobility are able to purchase in a neighborhood in a black neighborhood, it means so much, right? Again, it means sort of moving toward a middle class. It means moving toward a kind of community. This is what it means for Percy and Nila. They're imagining that they're going to move from this tiny little apartment on the lower east side to Harlem, right? This sort of world of black culture of community. They imagine Malaya being able to play outside, you know, and, you know, having just a whole crew of friends her age where that she can sort of experience a kind of freedom within a black world in Harlem. This is especially important for them as they're planning for Malaya's childhood, because she goes to school on the upper east side of Manhattan. So they know she's not going to get black community at school in the same way, right? So they really want home to be that for her. And of course, you know, the minute they're able to buy this, this beautiful brownstone and they're planning to fix it up and they've got all these visions for it, it's the height of the crack epidemic. And so one day Malaya comes home, she's done this playing on the street that they want her to do, you know, hanging out and the game they're playing is collecting the colored caps of crack files, right? And so this is a real moment of deflation for her parents. And she's not, you know, it's someone where we sort of see this is the cost of of class mobility in some ways, right? Pre gentrification. And then when, you know, when gentrification begins to happen, there's another sort of swell of excitement while, you know, the street sweepers are actually coming around while people the public services are actually investing. And yet then Malaya's parents realize, Oh, this is not for them. This is for the new tenants, the new residents, right? This is for the new the, you know, the gentrifiers, the new folks coming in. And of course, they still have to keep going. They still have to find creative ways to survive and to maintain that sense of home and self and community. So that's, yeah, that's absolutely I think it's the story of gentrification is absolutely the story of Harlem. And it's the story of Malaya's family as well. Would you mind talking about the character of Ethan well born? Yes, when born function in the novel. Yes. Okay. So Ethan when born is she is she's sort of she enters the novel as Naila sort of colleague kind of frenemy, right? Whereas she's Naila is a psychologist. She is, you know, she's an academic, an academic psychologist, right? But partly because she's the only black woman in her department, she teaches at a sort of well resourced Upper West Side University, right? She's the only black woman in her department. So she's very active in these academic groups, these black psychologists of New York groups. So she's got a community of peers. And Ethan when born is one of those people, she's another black woman psychologist. She's absolutely Naila's peer. And in some ways, I think Naila is threatened by her, partly because she's a big woman who just takes up space. She's not afraid to take up space. And, you know, she's she dresses sort of loudly. She dresses in bold colors. She wears a lot of jewelry. She also travels a lot, right? And so Naila as someone who was raised by her mother, my mayor, right? Who you mentioned, she's raised by her mother to shrink herself, right? And to really try to sort of fit in. And, you know, it's often at her own expense, at the expense of her well being, even when born is the opposite. And she's just like, I'm out here. I'm going to be as loud and as fun. And I'm going to really sort of take pleasure in my body in my life. So of course, Malaya notices this growing up and sort of seeing, you know, how this woman seems to affect her mom. But the woman remains a mystery. Malaya is a kid. She doesn't really get to know this woman well until something happens. And her mother suggests that she seek help from a therapist. And Malaya as a teenager is like, okay, I got your therapist. I know exactly who I'm going to call, right? And so she goes ahead and calls Ethan Winborn. And at that point, I think, you know, I think we see Dr. Winborn come into kind of fuller view as a kind of a really sort of loving, you know, nurturing, caring character who in addition to representing a kind of free big black woman also represents a kind of an ability to care for Malaya that she hasn't quite hasn't quite seen with other relationships with adult women in her family. In the sense that this is someone who really has, you know, you can't really give what you don't have, right? And in some ways, what Malaya is looking for is a kind of self confidence, and a kind of, you know, sort of self esteem and a kind of valuing of herself, that the women in her family don't quite have, but Ethan Winborn does have it. So they establish a really beautiful relationship that helps prompt Malaya to really step into herself to really, you know, again, indulge in the pleasures of the body to indulge in the pleasures of various relationships, and to express herself creatively, and to move about the world in a kind of freer way, as modeled by Ethan Winborn. And what I loved about that whole relationship is that it departs from the conventional therapy. So tell me about your childhood kind of thing. That's right. Just listens to her and help. And Malaya doesn't come clean about a lot of things. I mean, like she said, she's like, I lie, I don't tell the truth. That's how I help them understand my name. Lie, lie, lie. Exactly, exactly. Yet she's able to guide her into, you know, finding herself and exploring her wild side. It's a lovely part of the novel really rich, I think. Thank you. You know, it was important to me to include that because I do think that, you know, conversations around mental health. This is another thing like diet culture, right? It's that it's really only in the last several years that we've been able to have sort of full, you know, widespread conversations, public conversations about mental health. And yet they have been there in queer literature and feminist literature, and in black women's literature, specifically, I'm thinking about Tony K. Bambara's The Salt Eaters, right? There are, you know, there are these moments where we have important, you know, conversations and important scenes related to mental health. And I really wanted to make sure that that was part of Malaya's story and centered in Malaya's story that sometimes the relationships that we need to sustain us don't come from family. Sometimes they're not organically there. Sometimes we have to seek them out in the form of people who are trained, you know, and who sort of made it their life's work to give us that kind of care. And this is this is the case from Malaya. And she departs from the conventional paradigm of terms of talk therapy. Absolutely. That's right. It's a it's a kind of a listen therapy in a way, right? She, you know, she lets Malaya talk. And your point also, I think, is really important, you know, one of the things that is important about that relationship is she lets Malaya talk without trying to change her, right? She's one of the few adults in Malaya's life that really has no investment in changing her. She wants to help Malaya see some of the things that Malaya might want to change in her own life, right? And I think that's in some ways that's hopefully what a good therapist does. But that sort of hands off approach giving Malaya space, the ability to take up space, even in that small space of her office. This then has these effects where there's an outward ripple where then Malaya is, you know, better, she's more willing and better prepared to take up space elsewhere in her life. I know, and the progress is really subtle. And, you know, as she begins to find her voice, oh, I can make a joke. Oh, it was really, really well. Good. Thank you. I'm glad to hear that. Let's talk about community in the novel and also your personal community. As we mentioned before, we started taping your acknowledgement list is voluminous. And so I'd like to talk about Malaya's community and the function of community and then I'll go on to you as a writer. Well, thank you for that. Yes. So I mean, you know, as we kind of touched on community is really important, not only to Malaya, but also to her parents, right? Her parents have both grown up in black communities, you know, the mother in Philadelphia, the father there in Harlem and community, they are aware that community has sort of shaped them and molded them and helped them be who they are and get as far as they have, especially in terms of again, class mobility, they both are the first in their families to graduate from college, right? They have these sort of high power professional jobs that don't quite pay enough still, right? So there's still this element of struggle. Community has been the buffer in some ways against some of the kind of, you know, oppressive external forces in the world. So they really want that from Malaya. And yet, for a few reasons, right, because of everything that's happening with crack in Harlem in the 80s when they get there. And then also because of kind of ostracization within their families, right, both of them, Percy and Naila, both of them are sort of criticized for Malaya's weight. And so there are these sort of barriers to accessing the kind of community that they want for her. And in some ways, the family then sort of becomes a little bit insular, a little bit isolated, right? And the, the, the kind of tensions between the parents start to really sort of build Malaya feels that it's her fault, right? So they, you know, this, this family of people who really wants nothing more than connection and community end up kind of being these sort of isolated satellites, right? Sort of in the same space, but not necessarily connected until Malaya sort of graduates from elementary school and moves to high school, right? And then suddenly there's this community of black and brown kids from the outer boroughs that sort of come in. And this, they have this sort of amazing, amazing kind of vibrancy to her life that she's so excited about that really sort of gives her a taste of what community might feel like if it were sort of on her terms, you know what I mean? It's not a hundred percent. But you know, there are these moments of feeling like true acceptance and just joy and fun and hip hop is a big part of that, right? That like they bond around hip hop in some ways, hip hop, you know, is a kind of it facilitates community, you know, with these kids who, you know, they come from different different parts of the city. They may not have a ton in common except they're in this white space and they've got this music that sort of keeps them together. So that's a big part of sort of how Malaya sort of cobbles together or collages, right? If you will, a community together for herself. In terms of my community, I mean, I've been fortunate that like I haven't had to work quite so hard, right? I've been very, very fortunate to just have really phenomenal people in my life at various stages. So my acknowledgments, I think they reflect that I did my best to really sort of dig deep and go way back to the kind of earliest influences, the folks who, you know, from a very from the time I was Malaya's age, honestly, have been that community have supported me, you know, as a person, but especially as a writer and an artist. So that includes early teachers. I think probably the earliest teachers, my elementary school art teacher, who I guess I probably started taking classes with. I was it was maybe the first grade, you know, might even have been kindergarten and Rosenthal was her name. You know, she gets a shout out and the acknowledgments in several teachers. I went to Hunter College Elementary School and High School in the city. Several teachers there were just, you know, so encouraging and nurturing, but especially just, you know, really kind of gave me tools for seeing myself as an artist at a very young age, which I think is pretty rare. We don't always get that, you know, and then I just really kind of built out from there. I think, you know, I, I'm somebody who I enjoy connecting with people and I enjoy keeping those connections and really maintaining them. So I've been really fortunate to kind of have a pretty robust community stick with me for many, many years, you know, and I think also because I've been working on this book for quite a while, it's nice to have something nice to sort of celebrate and share with your community, which is why, you know, I love doing all these events. I feel like I get to sort of really, you know, folks who have been, who've been part of the process of writing this book. Now we all get to sort of see it out in the world. And that's just been really beautiful to me. It has been a long fall, though you started. The idea became when you were a little kid. You just, you know, and it became a version of it, became your MFA thesis. That's right. You know, it's followed you throughout much of your life. Yeah, it really has. I mean, in some ways, you know, it's followed me. I think I've also followed it, right? Like, you know, I've had to really kind of carve out space and time for this book because it's just it's the it's the one. It's the book that helped me to know I wanted to be a writer, you know, this idea. And I just knew I wasn't going to let it go, even though there were moments for sure where I thought, oh, maybe this is never going to happen, you know, but it was an important story to me. Again, it's one of those things where I just, you know, I knew that I really needed to read this book. And I just, you know, I knew that if I really need a book like this, then I can't possibly be the only one. Where do the short stories fit in? So, well, as you probably know, right? One of the short stories actually is, you know, sort of carved from the first chapter of this novel. And it's so funny, often people ask me, oh, what was it like to turn a short story into a novel, but it was actually the opposite, right? This novel, I've been working on this novel long before I thought about a collection of short stories. And I sort of carved that story out of the first chapter of the novel. So which is to say, you know, the stories, part of it is that, you know, working on a master's in creative writing, the short story is a common sort of part of the workshop experience, right? You know, it's easier from a pedagogical standpoint or from a teacher standpoint, it's easier to have students write short things, several short things across a semester than, like, take a semester and write a novel. So I ended up having a lot of story drafts from my master's experience. And I knew I kind of wanted to develop them and try and publish them. In fact, I started publishing while I was working on my master's, publishing those short stories while I was working on the master's. Then when I started my PhD, naively, I sort of thought, oh, well, I'll just, you know, write this novel real quick and then I'll be off to the races and all, you know, all the things that are happening now, right? I was like, oh, yeah, that'll happen, you know, as soon as I'm out of grad school. And it turns out that that wasn't the case. And so the PhD was a lot more demanding than I thought. But writing the short stories allowed me to kind of stay alive as a writer, you know, and that's your point about community. It allowed me to kind of stay within a community of writers, right? Because I was able to publish to, you know, to, to draft, to revise, to send work out to my writing community and get feedback and all of that while I was working on this PhD in English literature, which at the time felt like a whole different intellectual world, though it shouldn't happen, my opinion. But, you know, the way the kind of structures of academia existed then. And I think often still exists now, right? It's sort of like if you're a creative writer, you're on one side. And if you're a literary scholar, you're on the other side. And for me, I really felt like I was sort of straddling these two worlds. I often say the only thing I've ever really been closeted about was the fact that I was a creative writer in this English PhD program, right? That like, you know, but the short stories helped me to kind of keep that part of myself alive and keep that part of myself growing. And sorry, DC Sirens. I don't know if you can hear but help me to keep myself, you know, alive and that part of myself alive and keep myself growing. And by the end of that my coursework experience, I had a bunch of short stories. And so my agent was sort of like, well, you know, have you ever thought about putting these together as a collection? And I kind of had it. But I did, you know, and and it really I'm so glad I did because it really helped me to again, sort of keep that that sense of myself as a creative writer, you know, front and center as I move forward into my academic career. Did you get the agent from the MFA program? No, actually, I met my agent at Breadloaf, which is a writer's conference, right? That happens every year in Vermont. Yeah. So I met my agent at Breadloaf while I was sort of in the midst of drafting or finishing, I think, the draft of the novel. And we had some great conversations about the novel, but she didn't, you know, she was sort of like, OK, while you're finishing this up, what about a collection of short stories? And so, you know, it gave me the idea to kind of put one together, which was, again, a really kind of cool process. I think Audrey Lord might have said it's easier to write short stories and just in terms of time management. Oh, that's interesting. I mean, I think it's true. Yeah, absolutely. I mean, they're a finite, right? And, you know, if you're if you're in a graduate program or if you're working a full time job, right, you know, it's it's easier to carve out a weekend, right, to kind of just immerse yourself in this fictional world than it is to carve out, you know, three or four months at a time to really kind of work through a novel draft. So so yeah, that makes a lot of sense to me. Well, the novel was written almost in fits and starts, would you say? Yeah, yeah, for that reason. Yeah, for that reason. I mean, but, you know, it's funny. It depends on how we define writing, right? I mean, if writing is sort of like pen to paper or, you know, fingertip to keyboard, then yes, I would say that happened in fits and starts. But in terms of the conceptualization and the dreaming and the thinking and the kind of rethinking that was really going on continuously. And so when you had some time to work on it, you sat down and started writing. That's exactly it. That's exactly it. And in some ways, like, you know, when I was doing the PhD, it was sort of like a treat, you know, sort of like at the end of each semester, you usually get a little break and, you know, some of my friends would be like, OK, now we're going to Cancun or we're going or I'm going home to my mom's or whatever, right? And I was just sort of like, OK, now I'm going back to my novel, you know, like that was where I got to sort of like replenish. And I that's pretty much how I wrote the first kind of major revision was in that way over several years, just carving out a week here, a weekend there. Sometimes over the summer, I would get a month or two. Residencies also were really helpful because there's residences. Your time sort of looks different and feels different. It might be the same two weeks, but when you're just sort of in a cabin in the woods somewhere and someone is, you know, very helpfully preparing your meals and you don't have to worry about those things, you get it feels like even more time. And so that was really helpful for me in this process as well. I've heard that that's one of the values of MFA. Is that let you take some time? I agree. I agree time and also I think deadlines. And so I have, you know, when students, a lot of students sort of come to me asking whether they should pursue grad school at all. And if so, should they do an MFA or a PhD? And one of the things I often ask, you know, as they're thinking through is first of all, what's your financial situation? Or, you know, you have to think about that, right? And like, you know, how much debt are you willing to take on? And also, are there other ways for you to create community and deadlines for yourself? Because in some ways, I think that's what a lot of these programs offer. If you can find a way to do that, then, you know, it opens up a whole lot of other possibilities, I think. Just doing a PhD, from my experience, as you say, is a huge awakening. Truly. I'll get my PhD and then 10 years later, I finish my district. Right, right. Exactly. It's another sort of alternate times, right? What is a year really? The things that you felt were possible in a year suddenly are taking four or five years, you know? Exactly. Yeah, it's a lot. But in terms of the novel, you see and working on it, you changed your idea of point of view during the process of writing that. Yeah. Can you talk a little about that? Sure. So, yeah, the very first draft, it switched point of view. It was all third person, but it would switch from Na'ilah from Malaya's point of view to Na'ilah's point of view to Percy, the father to Shanice, who's the best friend and love interest. And that was important to me because I really knew, I knew that I wanted to tell a story of Malaya's body that she herself couldn't fully tell, right? Especially when she was much younger. I knew that I needed to sort of include perspectives on her body that she didn't have and that she didn't understand. And in some ways, it was important that she not understand these perspectives on her body because some of them were off and were damaging to her, right? And so I needed her to sort of be the kind of emotional and intellectual center while also bringing in some of these other perspectives just to kind of show a fuller picture of the world that she's living in, right? How exactly does her mother feel about her body? How exactly does her father feel about her dieting? How exactly does Shanice feel about her attraction to Malaya but also this sort of weird competition that exists between the two of them? So that was my thought with that first structure. And after kind of a few passes with that structure, my agent just sort of said, well, you know, what if you just try it from Malaya's point of view? And you know, is that you know, that moment where you get a piece of feedback that you're just like, why? You know, like, why do I have to do this? But you can't stop thinking about it, right? And you start to sort of answer that question. Well, here's maybe one reason why I might think about doing this. And maybe there's another reason why this might not be such a bad idea. Maybe this is a reason why this could actually help over here. And so as that, you know, sort of negotiating my feelings about that suggestion, I thought, OK, I might as well just try it. And what I've learned in that experience is that I can tell Malaya's story from Malaya's point of view while also bringing in the evidence of these other points of view, right? Even if I'm not sort of offering the reader direct access to these other perspectives, evidence of how Percy feels about the fact that his daughter is dieting in this way. Evidence of Nayula's sort of internal shame around her own body and how that impacts Malaya and her relationship with Malaya, right? That there are ways to sort of bring those in. And in some ways, I mean, I think in addition to sort of just depicting these characters in scene interacting with one another, another strategy that I used was, you know, kind of slipping a little bit out of Malaya's perspective into a kind of slightly omniscient mode. So, you know, for like literature nerds right out there, I mean, probably will notice there are some moments where like, well, that isn't exactly Malaya's perspective. There's there's a little bit of a kind of narrative intrusion or interruption that doesn't kind of disrupt the story, but provide some of that context that Malaya doesn't quite have for herself yet, especially early in the book. And so that for me was the way to kind of make the point of view work in a way that felt right to me. It really there are strong similarities to the bluest eye in terms of childhood coming of age kind of thing. But as one of your interviewers said, you know, unlike that painful, brilliant novel, there's joy. Malaya makes it through. Yeah. Oh, first of all, I mean, like, what a what a wonderful compliment. So thank you so much for that. You know, I mean, I read the bluest eye when I was 11 years old. And in fact, you know, we were talking about sort of the moment when I realized I wanted to be a writer. It was reading the bluest eye. I was it was, you know, a year in the fifth grade. I read the bluest eye. I read and is that he shone gaze for colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enough. And I read Jamaica concave Lucy. And all of these are books about the experiences of black girls and their bodies. And yet they're all written for adult audiences, right? But as this 11 year old, I'm like, wait a minute, like, this is something that I could do, right? Writing about black girlhood is something that I could do that black girlhood is meaningful enough to kind of rise to the level of literary importance. And the the practice of committing those stories to paper is something I could do with my life. And it was truly just a mind blowing moment. So the bluest eye has always been really important to me. And I appreciate what you're saying that what's interesting is that as an adult when I revisit the bluest eye and especially teaching the bluest eye now, right? I feel very much aware of the kind of the the ever presence of pain, of trauma and of sadness, right? Throughout that novel. And especially at the end. But what was interesting about encountering that novel as a young girl, you know, sort of not far from the age of the protagonists, right? Pakola and Frida and her sister, Claudia, you know, I did see moments of joy, right? Because I saw these three girls playing. I saw these three girls, you know, these two girls sticking up for their friend, right? Who's experiencing all of this pain and being, you know, sort of really vilified and scapegoated in lots of ways by the world around her, right? And so I think that really shaped my sense that like trauma and healing in some ways they occupy the same space. They begin in the same place, you know, and I think kids sort of get that they have to in this way that I think is really powerful. And so, you know, in some ways I try to bring that same sensibility to Malaya's character, right? They're like even in the Weight Watcher scene, for example, when she absolutely sort of internalizing a kind of a history of trauma and body shame in this Weight Watcher scene. And yet she's like, I refuse. I'm going to take joy in imagining French fries and look at the colors of the fries. And these women are ridiculous and I'm committed to my fries and this is fun, right? Like I can create spaces for fun, which ends up meaning create spaces for survival. And I think this is what we see in novels like The Bluest Eye and hopefully in novels like Big Girl, right? That this is what we do. This is what we have to do to kind of move forward and survive. Are there any last words that you want to share with the audience? Buy a copy of Big Girl. I'll go back now. The people that I'm excited about because first of all, I like this, I just love this cover. It feels so kind of sweeping and cinematic to me. But also it has a reading group guide. And so, in fact, you mentioned that you were thinking of bringing it to your reading group. You know, I highly encourage folks to pick it up. The reading group guide, I think is really exciting and kind of brings up some really interesting questions and topics for conversation. I also love talking to reading groups. So for anyone who does choose to kind of bring Big Girl to their reading group, please hit me up. I am pretty easy to find on Instagram or my website. And yeah, get in touch and we'll see if we can connect around the book and also events. If you know, depending on when you're seeing this, you know, I'm doing a paperback tour and I will be kind of in a number of cities across the country. So if I'm coming to your city, I hope to see you. Please introduce yourself and say hi, say that we met on all things LGBTQ. Mecca, thank you. Thank you for the little plug for the show, too. This has been lovely and good luck with the book tour. And I hope you're able to join us again to tell us how it lands and what you let me ask you now. You're going to finish the book tour. What are you working on next? So it's early stages, but I'm working on another project, two two projects that are connected. But you know, what I'm what I feel like I can sort of share about these projects right now is that they are queer. They are fun. They are very sort of different. It's a kind of fresh mode for me. And I'm super excited about them. I'm having a good time at this point. Wonderful. Well, we would love to have you want to talk about it in greater detail, both when they're finished and before if you'd like. Let's do it sounds good. Well, thank you so much. Thank you. It was great. Yeah, take care. Thank you for joining us. And until next time, remember, resist.