CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT:
Interview with Karina Dove Escobar

Rappahannock Review Fiction Editors: We’re interested in the theme of transformation in “La Cantadora” and how the character goes from a state of fragmentation to one of quiet observation; how did that unfold for you in writing this story?

Karina Dove Escobar: Since there are some autobiographical parallels in the story, it took me a while to figure out how my main character was going to heal. It felt really lovely to get all the initial events down on the page, to narrativize them, to fictionalize them, to add some magical realist flavor. Yet, ironically, I found that I was having trouble moving past the scene where La Cantadora loses her voice. 

When I hit that point, I did what I often do with dead-ends: I stored the piece away and waited. When I remembered it existed weeks, sometimes months later, I would reread it to see if the seed of the thing was still viable. Eventually, after I came to terms with how certain experiences created silences in my own life, I began to see those silences as a strength. It’s okay to sometimes take a step back, to let others sing to you, to take on a different role within a community. This idea that a community can be cyclical like that, with some people stepping forward and others stepping back, as needed…this allowed me to identify a new narrative arc in the story. 

La Cantadora may struggle with losing her voice, but she also comes to terms with it. She’s more aware, she’s a better advocate for other silenced voices in the world. She redefines camaraderie. She learns that observation can be a superpower. Observation can be a surefire way to still contribute meaningfully when you are not ready to be super loud.

RR: Your descriptions of the garden are beautiful. How did you choose the specific details of the setting and how do you see them working within the narrative? 

KDE:  The garden acts like a time capsule in this story. I needed to portray that time passed, time that my character spent healing from a tumultuous time in her life. The garden allows us to peek into La Cantadora’s psyche one last time, to see how she’s faring after a couple years of rest and recovery. I also wanted to describe the garden in a way that felt hopeful, that allows us to recognize all the potential that is still ahead of her.

RR: How do you approach writing dialogue and creating distinct voices for your characters?

KDE: Cadence has always been important to me while crafting character voices. I tend to have a lot of fun with rhythm and auditory textures and really enjoy determining how these elements could be used to portray different personalities and mindsets.

I also have a lot of fun playing around with textual elements when crafting more unorthodox characters. The process of crafting the voice of the bouquet involved some of this experimentation. 

RR: We love the poetic and introspective voice; can you tell us a little about your writing process and how you develop voice in a story?

KDE: I’m often drawn to magical realism. Writing in a magical realist way helps me explore the rich spirit that exists in the world in a way that I find more difficult to do when writing realism. In this story, La Cantadora truly believes in the medicinal quality of her art, in its vibrancy and vivacity. It is akin to the act of worship to her. There is a spirit to it that feels very real; music is very much animate and alive. It therefore makes sense to allow her music to physically dance off the walls, to give it more of a presence. Of course, allowing such things to occur impacts the voice of the story. It often impacts it so thoroughly that the story crosses genre lines, becomes more fantastical.

When I write, I’ve noticed I’m a bit obsessed with animating seemingly inanimate objects or concepts, in this way. Objectification is a theme I return to time and time again. People often say, for example, that human exploitation of the earth is linked to patriarchal exploitation of the feminine. This is an idea that sticks with me. This idea creates a philosophical foundation that my narrative voice often rests on. I find myself returning to it again and again in my writing. As a result, my stories are often a little otherworldly. My stories often highlight a parallel world where there is more personhood and life. 

RR: What part of the story did you enjoy writing the most, and which part was particularly difficult?

KDE: One of my favorite parts to write was the scene in which La Cantadora listens to Marisol sing. I grew up really religious. Singing and dancing with a congregation was something I looked forward to. While writing this piece, it felt good to remember how music can heal, how music can feel medicinal and communal. The portions of the story in which I get to describe music in this way felt really cathartic. 

The most difficult part was constructing the narrative arc so that it felt cohesive. For months and months, I knew La Cantadora was going to lose her voice and I knew there were going to be talking roses, but I had no idea how those two pieces would come together or how that would lead to an ending that felt authentic. I had to really dig in and be patient with myself while writing this piece. It was clear from the beginning that the answers weren’t going to be obvious right away.