Interview with WCE
Interview on Writing and "Rice Paper Dreams"
Rice Paper Dreams won first place in the 2017 WCE Short Story Competition.
Interview with Ceri Shaw:
1. Hi Krystal and many thanks for agreeing to this interview. Care to tell us a little about your winning story Rice Paper Dreams?
Rice Paper Dreams is a story about a young girl reuniting with her father. It looks into expectations and unfulfilled dreams, as well as the complicated dynamics of family relationships, and how they change over time.
2. How did you come up with the idea for the story?
Almost a third character in itself is the setting–the Kyoto Railway Museum. My sister has always been a huge train nerd, so this past summer when we visited Kyoto, we spent an afternoon at the museum. It was raining that day, on a Monday, so there were very few visitors when we arrived. I remember seeing a little boy with his father, and what struck me was the way the father so excitedly explained how the gears operated in the trains. It was clear that he wanted to share with his son his enthusiasm for trains. I remember wondering how his son would grow up; would he embrace these expectations, or stray from them? Would he grow to understand his father, or resent him? And how would the father perceive the past–this museum trip and perhaps others? Family dynamics are a tricky thing, embedded with countless unspoken rules. In a similar way, Mariko believes she has changed, that the power imbalance has shifted in her favor, but inevitably, her facade cracks. Her father too, tries his best, but new things–and old –come to light in one short conversation. I enjoyed the juxtaposition of the irreverent, ancient trains with the young, earnest father-daughter duo. The way people, so volatile, change every day, while trains move around us, speeding by yet ever constant. To me, that feels equal parts ironic and wonderful.
3. What initially attracted you to writing short stories?
Often, I find small snippets in everyday life that intrigue me, and the ones that I come back to time and time again are often the ones worth writing. I like the idea of documenting a stray thought in time or space, without devoting a huge effort to it as in novel writing. In novels, writers have to be more ambitious in scope. But short stories are more often about capturing essence. A feeling, a character, or a moment in time.
As a side note, I think short stories are one of the best ways to improve craft. Their constraints in word count are what allow you to play around with form or genre. I would say that while I write novels for others–to entertain, to ask questions–my short stories are primarily for myself, in an educational sense. I write to develop voice and style, learning what works for me, and what doesn’t.
I read once that Haruki Murakami finds writing novels a challenge, writing short stories a joy. I sort of agree with that sentiment. In order to write novels, you have to fall in love with your characters, fleshing them out into three-dimensional, fully realized beings. If writing novels is like moving in, then writing short stories is more like dating. You meet these people for the first time, and you stay on their good side. They intrigue you, entertain you. They’re worth a quick snapshot, but you don't have to get into drawn out fights over the deep stuff. For me, I have seasons where I’m only producing short stories, and others where I’m fully immersed in a novel.
4. Do you have a regular process in creating a story or does it vary from piece to piece? Do you plan your stories or do ideas crowd out and you pick one to finish?
As a student, my life and routine change constantly, likewise, the ways I arrive at new ideas also change. When I was traveling in Japan this summer, every day felt like sensory overload: so many new sights, sounds, people to learn from. That kind of lifestyle isn’t sustainable, but for short periods of time it’s really quite invigorating, especially for creators. I found the framework and schema for Rice Paper Dreams after visiting the Kyoto Railway Museum, but the initial idea was actually sparked by a solitary sight from a few days earlier: a lonely umbrella, forgotten by its companion. I was riding the bus back to Sasazuka, a residential district in Tokyo, when I saw the umbrella, jolting along with every bump on the road. For some reason it struck me as very sad. The image stayed with me until Mariko’s story aligned with it, and then the two merged. Small images like that, which can mean nothing one day and then everything the next, are often the catalysts for my short stories.
As for the novel I’m currently working on, the idea came from a dream, or at least, the moment before sleeping or waking–I’m can’t remember which. Sometimes the ideas are from dreams, from faces, from memories, and sometimes they’re from less romantic sources. Sometimes it’s because you hear something on the news, and it just makes you so angry. What can you do? You’re only a kid with a pen. So you pick it up, and hope to make someone else feel something.
5. What's next for K. X. Song? Are you considering any publications?
I am; nothing official as of yet, but hopefully I’ll have more news in the future!