CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT:
Interview with Isabella Mason

Rappahannock Review Nonfiction Editors: “Lines Written in Early Autumn” spends a lot of time lovingly describing physical space and appearances, and it deals with the idea of pushing someone away; what led you to focus so much on the exterior things in such an internal, emotion-driven piece?  

Isabella Mason: That’s a very apt observation—so much of this time in my life was spent looking for relief in things outside of myself. I think that’s reflected in the piece, especially in the idea of looking toward someone else for comfort, but then dealing with the complications of involving another person in your own grief. I also looked for external relief in much more basic ways, like in romanticizing my surroundings, even if what surrounded me was a dirty old dorm. The title of the piece is a reference to a poem by the English Romantic poet William Wordsworth, “Lines Written in Early Spring,” and that reference is extended in the final moments of my piece, using Wordsworth’s words: “I heard a thousand blended notes, / While in a grove I sate reclined, / In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts / Bring sad thoughts to the mind.” The intention in this, beyond my own admiration for Wordsworth and that poem, is to reference the same admiration for one’s surroundings that Romanticism embodies. I’m not sure I was aware of that symbolism when I initially wrote the piece, but in retrospect it is very clear. I suppose that’s how writing tends to go.

RR: The piece leaves much unresolved; did you have a goal in doing so, or did it just feel natural in terms of the narrative?

IM: The situation is one that remains unresolved. If it were possible for me to wrap it up with a neat little bow, I think I would have, but this piece was difficult to find an ending for because there was never really a satisfying conclusion in my own life. In the end, the only way I could provide any of the satisfaction that I wanted the ending to have was to show that momentary, fleeting relief that came with being present. The piece ends with me finding some serenity in just being with another person in the current moment. The reality is that the past and future proved to be difficult to sit with no matter how I angled it, but there is some seriously great power in being able to ground yourself in the present and celebrate what you can rather than collapsing into the grief.

RR: Since this is a nonfiction piece, did you find it difficult to accurately explain your feelings in regards to personal safety and relationships? Was there any catharsis in putting your own experience into words?

IM: I’ve always been a writer. I’ve kept a journal consistently since I was thirteen and have always processed difficult events in my life in a journal. To me, writing is the easiest way for me to make pain tangible enough for me to break it down and have some control over it. This piece was definitely an example of that happening. There is some fear associated with describing the reality of the situation, mostly comprised of the fear of judgement, but as a nonfiction writer, I think that uncomfortable honesty is a requirement for what I do. It was absolutely cathartic to put the way I felt on the page and be able to edit, delete, shape and tweak to my heart’s desire—it bought me a sense of control that I hadn’t found otherwise.

RR: Are there any authors or works that influenced you while writing this piece?

IM: As I mentioned earlier, Wordsworth was definitely on my mind while I wrote. At the same time as I was writing this piece, I was taking a class on British Romanticism at Wake Forest University. The class was taught by Dr. Eric Wilson, who is a fantastic writer and a professor that also, coincidentally, taught my first creative writing course and introduced me to the prospect of writing professionally. He has a great admiration for Romantic authors and that certainly rubbed off on me. I was also strongly influenced by Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous and the candid voice Vuong brings in that book while he describes some very painful, nuanced situations.

RR: Looking back on the work now, do you still feel connected to it? Has your life changed since writing it?

IM: I wrote this piece in the fall of 2021, so it’s been three years since it first hit the page. I didn’t end up staying with the person I’m writing to in the piece, so there are certainly parts of it that no longer feel resonant in that regard. However, I definitely still feel connected to it. The piece revolves very much around an instance of sexual assault that continues to impact my life, though markedly less now than it did then. I admire the honesty I was able to employ to write this and I place a lot of value on the parts of this piece that demonstrate the messiness of a trauma’s aftermath. Though I’m in a different emotional spot now than I was when I wrote the piece, I find a lot of warmth in the ways in which I’ve grown, gotten better, and healed since then.