Interview by jaz papadopoulos
Rios de la Luz’s debut novella, Itzá (Broken River Books, 2017), tells the story of a young water witch, Marisol, and explores trauma, healing, and growth.
jaz papadopoulos: First, I want to say that I loved Itzá so much. I connected with it on a personal level—as a watery witch, the child of an immigrant, and someone with a rather particular affection for my grandmothers. A friend recommended it to me years ago, and I understand why.
But first, a warm up question: Who/what inspires you? Who are the authors you turn and return to, and what other practices spur your creative world?
Rios de la Luz: I am inspired by the forest, the desert, the ocean, and multiple dreamscapes my brain has come up with while I am asleep. A lot of my inspiration comes from movies. I love films by Guillermo del Toro, Ari Aster, and Francisca Alegria. I am inspired by music. My favorite artists to write to are Bat for Lashes, Purity Ring, St. Vincent, Janelle Monáe, Goldfrapp, and PJ Harvey. I am also inspired by interactions I have had with my family members, specifically my niece and nephews. It’s such a delight getting to know these little humans; they bring so much joy and keep me inspired by provoking my imagination and inner child.
Authors I return to: Sandra Cisneros. Etgar Keret. Han Kang. Myriam Gurba. ire’ne lara silva. Lidia Yuknavitch.
Other practices: I love dancing! I am not very good at it nor am I very coordinated, but I love to move my body and jump around open spaces. Every once in a while, I paint and collage. These practices have helped me when I have felt stuck in my writing.
jp: A sentiment I’ve been thinking about a lot lately is, “what is imagined, lives” (pulled from a popular sentiment within my spiritual community, “what is remembered, lives,” and inspired by Dorothea Lasky’s Animal, where she writes: “The imagination is a physical space that one shares with other people in and through [writing]…When we write poems, what is important about writing them is what we create within the brains of others.”)
How do you think about the power of the imagination? What do you hope to create in the imaginations of your readers?
RL: I agree with the sentiment. What is imagined, lives. We get to create these portals into another part of ourselves with our imaginations. That’s a form of magic. For me personally, my wild imagination saved me multiple times during childhood. With writing, I like to think I share a small part of myself with readers, and that’s frightening/beautiful and also intimate.
When I write a scene, I try to place something in the scene that will stand out to the reader, whether it be a specific colour or a specific element of nature. I think as far as what I try to place into the imaginations of readers, it’s a specific emotion (or multiple emotions) mixed with one prominent visual element. I trust readers will go where they need to within their imaginations to continue the stories.
jp: I’m really curious about the role of magic in your stories—specifically, in its ability to shape the telling of stories borne of trauma.
In your writing process, how does using magic impact your experience of writing difficult topics?
RL: In general, I have rituals I do before I go into writing. I create a writing altar depending on the kind of story I am starting, I light a candle or light incense, I talk to my ancestors at the altar I have made for them. If magic comes up for me in a story, it’s meant to be there.
I went into Itzá knowing I was going to fictionalize parts of my trauma as a child with sexual abuse and emotional abuse. I knew going into it that the main character, Marisol, was going to have to go through these things and I wanted to give her the gift of healing completely by erasing the perpetrator of her abuse. I wrote Itzá as a spell. The perpetrator of abuse is called “Fake Father” and I wrote Itzá with the intention of binding him to the book; he exists in the history of Marisol’s story, but she gets to be free of the story as the reader gets further into the book. Once the book ends, she gets to continue to heal and the Fake Father disappears into the shadows of the book. Her story is in the spell and that’s her power. She gets to heal completely without carrying the ghost of this man.
jp: How does magic allow for a new “spelling” of stories—spell-casting while writing towards magical futures?
RL: Stories with elements of magic come out of me from a place of hope, a place of anger, a place of power. Hope in the sense that healing is possible from the traumas and injustices that affect people’s lives. Anger as a mechanism to write without fear. Power in the sense that as an author, the plot is in your hands, the character’s fate is in your hands. You can give them a new reality, you can give them a way of living that could only exist in their story. My focus in particular is finding different ways for characters to heal or find empowerment in themselves. These are the magical futures I write toward.
Rios de la Luz is a queer Xicana/Chapina sci-fi loving writer. She is the author of the short story collection, The Pulse between Dimensions and the Desert (Ladybox Books 2015). Her work has appeared in Vol. 1 Brooklyn, The Fem Lit Magazine, Entropy, Luna Luna Magazine, Corporeal Clamour, and St. Sucia.
jaz papadopoulos is a queer artist, writer, and farmer. They performed at Documenta14, and have held fellowships with Lambda Literary, Winter Tangerine, Video Pool, and aceartinc. Their work is published in NAILED!, Sad Mag, PRISM, dear journal, VanDocument, and more. jaz grew up on Treaty 1 territory and currently lives on unceded Coast Salish territory.