Q&A with Detroit Noir contributor Nisi Shawl
Posted on December 8, 2007
Nisi Shawl is a native of Kalamazoo, Michigan. Her short horror story, “Cruel Sistah,” which first appeared in Issac Asimov’s SF Magazine, was reprinted in the nineteenth volume of The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror.
Shadows covered the car hood, the road ahead, the view out of either window. Thin shadows, thickening as she noticed them, leafless branches crowding together to warm their sap in the spring sun. They were in the woods, and suddenly that ignorant driver had swung into an unpaved side road. The car slowed to a crawl, ruts and puddles rocking it along. Farmer stopped again, for no reason Leora could see.
“Is this where we hide to look for the deer? And I can learn to drive?” the boy asked.
“Yessir, Mister McGinniss. This here’s the place. Just let me take you on my lap.” The driver got out and went around the back to Kevin’s side. As Farmer opened the door, the fear smell came off him in great stinking waves like a waterfall. Leora reached for Kevin. She got him by his waist and held him as Farmer grabbed his arm, lifting half off the car seat.
The boy screamed. They were pulling him apart, hurting him. Leora loosened her grip, but only for a moment. Then she had him again, by his wool-clad thighs this time, and they were both out on the ground, Farmer yelling and yanking Kevin’s arm, jerking him around so that Leora rolled din the mud. Sharp pains, blows to her sides that made her sick. Someone was kicking her and she screamed, held on tighter as if the boy could keep away the pain.
“Stop.” It was a man’s voice, sounding quiet above all the noise, like smoke above a flame. Leora held Kevin solidly in her arms, sat up on the muddy ground and looked.
There were three of them. The driver Farmer, or whatever his real name was, and two more. The others wore masks, but she recognized one by his sweater, a thick gray cardigan bunched up over his broad hips. He’s been sitting on the sawhorse at the construction site. He had a gun. It was aimed at her. And beside him stood a man in a long coat with his hands in the pockets.
“What do you want?” Leora asked. The thin man snorted.
“Shut up, mammy.” Farmer rolled his shoulder, wincing like she’d hurt him. Good.
–from “Little Horses” by Nisi Shawl
What are the challenges (if any) in writing about Detroit?
Doesn’t seem like there’s any special challenge there: lots of themes, scenes, characters, etc. Everybody should be doing it.
Have you written other fiction set in Detroit?
Yes, my short fantasy story “Wallamelon” takes place partly in Detroit and partly in Kalamazoo. It’s available online at the site of Aeon Magazine; there’s a “teaser” at http://www.aeonmagazine.com/aeonthree.html. The heroine of “Wallamelon,” Oneida Brandy, spends summers with her Big Mama near the Detroit Institute of Arts.
What attracts you to the (broadly-defined) Noir style?
What attracts me is the possibility of perverting it. Okay, maybe I mean *sub*verting it. I’ve always been a fan of Raymond Chandler’s descriptive powers; I would like to harness them to my own attitudes and sensibilities, my feminism and my experiences as a person of color. I’m not the only one interested in doing this, I know. But that’s what I want. Among other things. I do have one other neo-noir story out there: “But She’s Only a Dream,” on the website of a magazine called Trabuco Road (http://www.trabucoroad.com/stories/only_a_dream.html).
Does it fulfill my ambitions? You tell me.
Is your story based on, or overtly influenced by, actual events?
I used to have a friend. She was white. One day she felt comfortable enough with me to speak about her lifelong desire to have a black child. Not to give birth to a black child, but to possess one. That’s part of the emotional background of “Little Horses.” If you could write anything and see it published, what would it be? Hey, I’ve got a couple of novels already finished–be nice to see *those* published. One’s a “dark fantasy” called La Verde, a YA book about body image and soul maggots; another’s a science fiction novel called The Blazing World, dealing with cloning and slavery 300 years in the future. I’ve also got this weird “faux history” project I’d like to write and see printed. It’s called The Five Petals of Thought, and it’s based on a dream. I’ve got a publisher who is very interested, but I need someone to pay my rent while I do the research and put the manuscript together. And I’ve got a few chapters done on an Intermediate Level (9- to 12-year-old reader) fantasy novel called Speculations, about a little girl who finds a pair of glasses that let her see ghosts. I’ve got plenty more plans, but you’ve probably heard enough for now. Is there any particular effect you want your writing to have on the reader? Why? I want to assume total control of my readers’ minds. I want power! Power!!
Who are some of your favorite authors?
I already mentioned Chandler. Colette, she’s another big influence. Samuel R. Delany and Gwyneth Jones are both SF authors (not “sci-fi,” please–that’s like calling me a Negro) who totally awe and astound me. Richard K. Morgan writes “neo-cyber-punk,” a subgenre of SF with a strong noir influence. His most recent novel, Thirteen it’s called in the US, is just brilliant. And William Gibson, the first widely known cyberpunk writer, has just published a pair of great anti-thrillers, Pattern Recognition and Spook Country. Walter Mosley is simply one of the best writers living. I especially love his Easy Rawlins mysteries. Karen Joy Fowler, of Jane Austen Book Club fame, has also written some beautifully weird and nearly unclassifiable stuff such as Sister Noon and Sarah Canary. Haruki Murakami’s Hardboiled Wonderland and the Edge of the World is not to be missed–I dreamt about it for weeks after I finished it. Can you tell I like reading books?
Detroit speed round: Eminem or the White Stripes?
Eminem. Fo sho.