Exodus Oktavia Brownlow

Readers can find Exodus’ “It’s 5amish, and my father tells me a story from Singapore” in Issue Eight, and in best microfiction 2021.

Richardson: Exodus! We were thrilled to be able to publish your piece and we’re just so grateful to have some time to spend with you and talk writing! Firstly, I wanted to drill down a little on “It’s 5amish, and my father tells me a story from Singapore.” One of the things that’s most important about your piece, is the idea of preserving innocence or good intentions in storytelling, can you talk a little about that? 

Brownlow: I’ve always been adamant about writing happier stories, and specifically for black folks and by black folks. This piece caters to that vision of stories that, when you read them, there is lightness, there’s the rare and treasurable sigh that doesn’t feel heavy. Going back to my childhood, I grew up with parents who provided safe environments for those kinds of stories to be told, and experience, and though I’m an adult now I’ve ensured to keep a place for this specific kind of storytelling preserved. 

Richardson: “Treasurable sigh” is a great phrase! I like that you’re using it to describe how a reader should feel when reading your work. What a cool gift to give a reader lightness and sighing. I also love the idea of preserving a storytelling space that was given to you. Maybe a follow-up to that is do you think storytelling is inherently connected to childhood? 

Brownlow: Definitely. I don’t think that the majority of what I write would exist without my personal experience as a child (and adult). The imagination is strong, and powerful, but it’s real life that feeds whatever it chooses to create. A lot of my characters, language, and settings are directly pulled from my childhood, my southern upbringing, and my now adult views or both. 

Richardson: I was also raised in the south! I find even now, despite having lived in the northeast for a long time it still infiltrates my writing. You noted characters, language, and settings are sometimes pulled from your southern upbringing. I also noticed your main character is riding in a truck with hair curlers in. I used to run errands with curlers in my hair when I lived in North Carolina. I would sometimes run into women who would tell me I was “brave” for doing this. I saw it as part of the expectations of southern women to appear perfect, and never in-progress. Like we should have our hair done, but no one should see the curlers. I read this in your character as a kind of intimacy between the narrator and her father. Our parents of course see us as “in-progress” and “unfinished” and that’s a kind of intimacy. But also her willingness to be *seen* in curlers in the truck as a type of feminism, progress, and commentary on that perfect southern woman trope. It’s a great detail that says quite a bit about her. What are your thoughts behind that detail? 

Brownlow: Because this piece starts so early in the morning that when she leaves from home it’s dark. When the sun is just starting to break through that darkness she’s already heading back home. That kind of detail sort of “allows” the choice to wear her hair rollers out. There’s no one to see her but her father and she can be any version of herself with him. It’s safe. I think that if this had occurred during the day when more sunlight would be present, and people, the entirety of this story would’ve been different. Would’ve been more of a “What’s going on with our character to where she’s okay wearing hair rollers out in public?” As you mentioned, being decent in public is definitely a big part of southern culture. 

Richardson: Ah, okay so the darkness of early morning covers this. Makes perfect sense. The details in this piece are so clear and you do such good work with the father’s character in a small space. In particular, the list of stories we don’t get told in this story becomes a kind of map of his identity. Do you think our identities and hearts are knowable by the stories we choose to tell?  

Brownlow: I think so. Anytime I start a piece I always feel that I have a good idea of what it’s going to be, and how it should be shaped. But the identity and heart of the piece always shows me its truth, it changes those initial beliefs about it’s becoming, you know? And as the creator, it’s my job to listen. To let it pull me. I love to let my pieces lead the way. 

Richardson: I think the idea of letting a piece lead is awesome. I’ve had trouble doing that in the past. I once had a professor in my M.F.A. tell me to set an alarm in the middle of the night and write as soon as it goes off. She also told me to write as I was drifting to sleep, or just waking up. I believe she was trying to tell me that I was choking my stories, that my conscious brain was too much in charge. I realize now she was kind of asking me to create an altered state for myself to play with possibilities. Many poets of course believe in automatic writing, or something taking over the body, the writer as just an instrument or vessel for story or writing to flow through. What are some techniques you have in letting a story lead? Or is that something that comes naturally to you? 

Brownlow: I wish I had a technique that I could share, but it honestly comes naturally to me. I think what may help is sort of thinking of writing as a kind of play. Like with children? They don’t come up with a plan to play. They just do it, and they figure it out along the way. They allow themselves to be open to whatever catches their eye. It’s rare that a child has a bad time at playing and I think having that openness is why. Show up, try to have a good time, and don’t take anything too seriously. 

Richardson: A quick follow-up is that a study recently came out that said 63% of writers surveyed in a quick study said that they actually *hear* their characters speak and 61% said they feel their characters have their own agency. https://www.theguardian.com/books/2020/apr/27/majority-of-authors-hear-their-characters-speak-finds-study. Do you *see* a story, *hear* a character's voice? Is that part of letting a story lead? 

Brownlow: My characters all feel very real to me. I see them, I hear them, I watch them. I’ve mentioned this a couple of times when having to give a little background information on something that I’ve published before, but I actually am a maladaptive daydreamer, and I have OCD. And so, a lot of my experience with physically living in the real world is with me mentally living in the world that’s inside my head. It’s very easy for me to get caught up with thoughts, and daydreams, and when it’s bad (as in fear based/ anxiety) I actively have to do a lot of work to break from them. Sometimes that can take days, weeks, and even months. When I’m creativing, everything feels very lush. I feel everything–my characters’ emotions, dreams, their impacts and ends. 

Richardson: “It’s 6amish and the sky has become,” is a wonderful line. It plays with the title and shows us some kind of change has taken place. Can you give us insight into crafting this line that serves as a hinge for the piece? 

Brownlow: Yeah, so, I just really wanted a nice end. Something that felt soft, and awake, and beautiful. The way that a day breaks in feels a lot like that–that sort of hazy awareness that you’re alive, the story’s alive, and look at all that is there once the light settles down upon it. 

Richardson: I can really sense what you’re calling a “treasurable sigh” in your answer here. Seeing the beauty in a new day, and beauty in living, in awareness, and it’s just fantastic. Can you tell me a little about your development as a writer? What’s your first memory of writing or having the desire to write something down? 

Brownlow: Probably in Kindergarten. I wasn’t writing stories exactly, but I was a big perfectionist with handwriting. Making the letters perfect, and neat, and exactly as they looked on the alphabet tracing table. I remember my teacher commenting to my parents on how I had the best writing in the class, and sort of being in love with the idea that a few strikes of a pencil could immerse someone so fully. Just strikes! Just swoops! Just squiggles! And from there, words and I have been completely tight. 

Richardson: Handwriting is so personal. I love that the aesthetic of the letters and words, and actually forming those things became a big part of your connection to writing. What’s a book you read as a child that made a large impression on you? Can you describe a little how it impacted you, or why it stayed with you?

Brownlow: Greek Mythologies and Fairytales were huge with me as a child. I guess I’ve just always been in love with the impossibilities of things, and how stories made them possible (in a way). You know what I really love? The expansiveness of life. The ways that magic shows up for us on a daily basis (words are magic, yes). And I continue to create with that love in mind. It’s freeing. It’s beautiful. It’s happy. I enjoy happiness. 

Richardson: I think that’s a lovely concept, “the expansiveness of life” I can see how that idea influences your work. What emotions do not come naturally to you in your writing? 

Brownlow:  I don’t think I have any? If that’s possible. I feel that we’ve all lived enough to write any emotion that we want to present in a piece. Just go back to a favorite memory, or a possible future, and there it’ll be. 

Richardson: That’s a really nice sentiment. I think emotions can impact a reader really differently depending on the genre of writing, like they have certain emotions built into our reader expectations. Some genres can showcase particular emotions really well. Did you pick what genres you write in, or did they pick you?

Brownlow:  We chose each other. Horror. Southern Literary Fiction. Fantasy. Science Fiction. That’s my family, right there. The totality of who I am as a creator. 

Richardson: Calling your genres family makes total sense. Can you tell us a little about your writing practice? As in, how do you write? Do you use notebooks? Computer? Do you write during the day? At night? Do you have rituals or superstitions? Things that have to be in place for a session to be successful? How often? 

Brownlow: I’m strictly a notebook and pen (preferably black) writer. I’m very sporadic so I have seasons where I’m writing, and seasons where I rest, and seasons where I choose to focus on other projects/hobbies that allow me to be creative. For me, it always starts with the title. A cool title will pop into my head, and I’ll go–ah, I HAVE to write that. The title, and the genre (fiction, nonfiction, poetry). From there on, I get to work. I start with the first draft written by hand. I’ll type that up. Then, print that off. And from there? It’s a 5-10 draft process until it’s complete. I don’t like to write all the time because I know how much work each piece entails, and for me? Keeping a balanced relationship between my life and my writing is so important to avoid burnout, or referring to writing as something dreadful to do daily. I don’t produce a ton of work because of this but I can say that I am absolutely happy with the relationship that I’ve built. I don’t worry about rushing. I don’t worry about timelines. I don’t worry about missing my shot. Ain’t no such thing, from my perspective. 

Richardson: Yes to notebook drafting! I don’t always do that, but when I do it really hits. That also kind of goes back to your first experience of writing which is noticing, practicing, and taking pride in your handwriting. I love that you honor that part of yourself by drafting by hand. Makes so much sense. I really like to work from titles too. I’m learning a lot from you about confidence and having that faith in yourself. I’m terrified if I don’t write every week I’ll lose it. Of course, different practices exist for different people, but I’m digging the idea of writing seasons. I also appreciate how kind you’re being to yourself about rest, and not always needing to be productive which can be such a trap. Do you have any advice or tips for folks trying to get more writing time for themselves? 

Brownlow: Easy. If you’re already writing every day? Then that’s enough. If you’re wanting to be a little more consistent with your writing practice? Try just doing a daily writing session of 15 minutes a day. One thing about me is that I’m very adamant about writers taking care of ourselves. I don’t believe in slaving away for the work because it’s me, the creator, who comes first. And without the health of myself, and preservation of my mental health? I can’t sustain any kind of practice. If you’re reading this, and it’s been a month, 6 months, a year, or a few years since you've written anything? But you’d done so many other incredible, impactful, and generous things since? You’re doing enough. You’re still a writer, and you always will be. 

Richardson: I’ve had almost the exact opposite mentality: that if I’m not writing, I’m not a writer, and often have to talk myself out of a tailspin about if I’ll ever write again if I take too much time off, but I think some writers do torture themselves this way. Your gentleness with your practice seems like a much healthier approach! I envy it! Can you talk a little about drafting? Do you have readers you trust? How far do you take a piece by yourself before showing it to someone? 

Brownlow: So, I answered this a little bit in the previous question but typically I will work on 5-10 drafts before a piece is finished. Ten is for those pieces that are about 10-20 pages long. Five is usually for my 1-5 page pieces. The revision process is trimming away at the unnecessary, and adding on to the necessary. Over and over and over again–I love it! I’m a pretty private writer. I have writer friends, but I don’t do writing groups. I have nothing against them. I just work better alone. I prefer interacting over my writing (or my friends’ pieces) when they’ve been published. But also? I’m the kind of person you can absolutely send work to if I need a little help or encouragement. 

Richardson: I’ve gone through periods of aloneness with my practice and periods of peopleness. I’ve found both states useful. I think it’s actually a really important skill to be able to bring a piece fully through 5-10 drafts on your own. That is masterful practice. Now I’m curious how you know a piece is finished and ready to submit? 

Brownlow: When I read it out loud, I'm smiling to myself because I’ve witnessed how much it’s grown since its initial draft. Like, the first breath of that initial draft is there? But man, by the time it’s done? It’s just so much more. That’s when I know it’s done. 

Richardson: I have a friend who reads his work out loud so much during drafting he’s essentially memorized the work by the time it’s finished. I like the idea of you *seeing* its growth as you read through. A kind of relationship in seeing the work improve, get better. What about other writing practices? If you had to create a media watchlist or music playlist to match this piece of writing, what’s on it?

Brownlow: Probably a good chillhop playlist. I’m currently listening to “Chill Study Beats 2 Instrumental and Jazz Hip Hop Music [2016]. Just easy going vibes. No words. 

Richardson: Okay, so you do listen to music while you write. I do too, if it has words I have to listen to the same song on repeat for hours. Which has sometimes really driven people I live with mad, but you know, headphones. I’m interested in hearing what kinds of writing and publishing projects are coming up for you that we should be aware of and support? 

Brownlow: I love this question! Okay, so I have a debut chapbook of fiction coming out with Ethel Zine and Press in Spring of 2023 called–”Look at All The Little Hurts of These Newly-Broken Lives and The Bittersweet, Sweet and Bitter Loves”. Also, I have a debut collection of essays coming out with ELJ Editions in Summer of 2023 called–”I’m Afraid That I Know Too Much About Myself Now, To Go Back to Who I Knew Before, And Oh Lord, Who WIll I Be After I’ve Known All That I Can”. Man, I can’t tell you how excited I am for both projects. To introduce them to ya’ll. Thank you for asking. 

Richardson: Huge congratulations on the new work forthcoming. We’ll definitely be looking out for those! Thanks so much for taking the time to chat with us. We so appreciate your insights.