Deepa Rajagopalan [photo credit: Ema Suvajac] won the
2021 RBC/PEN Canada New Voices Award. Her work has appeared in literary
magazines and anthologies such as the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology, the
New Quarterly, Room, the Malahat Review, Event and ARC. She has an MFA in
creative writing from the University of Guelph. Born to Indian parents in Saudi
Arabia, she has lived in many cities across India, the US and Canada. Deepa
works in the tech industry in Toronto.
1
- How did your first book or chapbook change your life? How does your most
recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
Peacocks of Instagram is my
first full length book. It’s coming out in May 2024, and I hope it will find
its readers. I have been warned about the anticlimactic nature of publishing
your first book, but I hope it will change my life in some way.
The writing of the book has been life changing. The way something
changes your life slowly, like watching the sun set over the ocean, or clouds
drifting away. I have lived with the characters in this book for so long, and
their experiences, triumphs, joys, heartbreaks, have given me that ‘something
beyond the daily life,’ that Virginia Woolf talked about.
2
- How did you come to short stories first, as opposed to, say, poetry or
non-fiction?
I have a natural inclination to say things quickly and concisely. Taking
up space, meandering, slowing down, were not part of my South Asian upbringing.
So, the short story came to me naturally. I am continually amazed by the
challenge that the short story offers: to tell something so universally true, and
singularly so. To make the reader feel something in fifteen pages or less.
3
- How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your
writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear
looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious
notes?
Typically, the writing comes to me quickly, though I am anxious through
the first few of drafts, until I find the bones of the story. I enjoy the
revision process, combing through the prose over and over again until I’m
satisfied with the words, the sentences, and the shape of them. Nine out of ten
times, the final version is nothing like the first draft, except perhaps the
opening paragraph.
4
- Where does a work of prose usually begin for you? Are you an author of short
pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a
"book" from the very beginning?’
I think I am always working on a “book.” Even while writing short
pieces, I am trying to understand how they are in conversation with each other.
How different each story can be, and yet be part of the same world.
5
- Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the
sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I love seeing an audience’s reaction to new material, what moves them,
what does not land the way you thought it would. However, I typically read
something in public only when I feel it is ready.
6
- Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of
questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the
current questions are?
I think writing is always trying to answer some kind of questions. The
questions depend on what you are obsessed or preoccupied with, and what is
going on around you, and in the world. For years, I have been consumed by
questions about agency, about the powerful and the powerless. How does the
world order dictate who has power now, and who has had power for millennia?
What do ordinary people do when they are denied agency or find themselves
utterly helpless in the wake of cruelties, big and small? How do they take
power, or diminish themselves?
7
– What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do
they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
Arundhati Roy said in an interview that she enjoys the way the Russian writers “refuse
to stay in their lanes. Especially now that the traffic regulations are getting
stricter, the lanes are getting narrower and more constricted.”
The role of the writer should be to say the truth about the atrocities
in the world, while not denying its beauty and its joy. To say that which is
uncomfortable, as plainly and articulately as possible, without fear.
8
- Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or
essential (or both)?
I’ve always appreciated getting feedback on my work. Most of the time, I
comb through the feedback, and instinctively know what I need to take, leave,
or tweak. Sometimes, it can be difficult, but the difficulty comes from making
sure you retain your voice, while considering edits. I had the good fortune of
working with my editor, Shirarose Wilensky, on my short story collection, Peacocks
of Instagram, who was gentle with me, and most importantly understood my
intentions.
9
- What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you
directly)?
It’s hard to pick one thing, but there’s something Murakami said about
running that is resonating with me today: “Being active every day makes it
easier to hear than inner voice.”
10
- How easy has it been for you to move between genres (short stories to the
novel)? What do you see as the appeal?
It is not easy for me to move between the genres. It takes me some time
to untangle myself from one and move into the other. I usually work on one form
for stretches of time.
11
- What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one?
How does a typical day (for you) begin?
I try to stick to a routine, though it is not always consistent. I usually
wake up at dawn or earlier, have some coffee or tea, and write for a couple of
hours before the day makes its demands of me. Over weekends, I spend longer
periods of time writing. When I am working on a project, I am always thinking
about it, so I can write anywhere. At home, in airports, cafes, the hospital
waiting room.
12
- When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of
a better word) inspiration?
I turn to books. I have a stack of books by my desk that I turn to when
I can’t seem to keep going. Norwegian Wood by Murakami, The God of
Small Things by Arundhati Roy, How to Pronounce Knife by Souvankham
Thammavongsa, Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri, to name a few.
13
- What fragrance reminds you of home?
The smell of campfire, though I don’t know why.
14
- David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any
other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual
art?
Being in nature always infuses me with creative energy. It helps me
think better, and be more flexible with my ideas, allowing stories to go where
they want to go.
15
- What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your
life outside of your work?
Alice Munro, Chekhov, Murakami, Kazuo Ishiguro, Orhan Pamuk, Arundhati Roy, Jhumpa Lahiri, Hemmingway, I can go on and on…
16
- What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Music moves me deeply, and I’d like to take vocal lessons. I’d want to
sing, even if I am mediocre at it.
17
- If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or,
alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a
writer?
I’ve had a long career in information technology, I ran a business,
taught yoga, taught math and creative writing, but the work that makes
everything else tolerable is writing. I think I’d always be able to find
something to do, but without writing, I’d be a lot less happy, and perhaps
insufferable.
18
- What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
I am a sensitive person, deeply affected by everything around me.
Writing helps me make sense of life, to ease some of its pain, and to help see
its beauty. I’d be miserable if I didn’t write.
19
- What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
I read a story titled My Good Friend by Juliana Leite
(translated by Zoë Perry) in the Paris Review last Fall, and since then I think about it at
least once a week. It is a love story between the narrator and her good friend
who is losing his memory. It is masterful and reveals the kind of everlasting
love that withstands decades and spouses and children.
I watched this movie Past Lives recently, and it shattered me, in the
best possible way. The film has a singular, haunting texture, that I think
would be interesting to explore in prose.
20
- What are you currently working on?
I’ve been working on a novel, that follows the lives of three
characters, whose lives are inextricably linked by a single tragedy that takes
place in a small town in Saudi Arabia.
I was travelling recently and took a break from the novel and started a
new short story. I’m attempting to write a love story, which is difficult for
me as I am naturally cynical. But this one seems to be coming along well. I
think I’m going to give it a happy ending.
12 or 20 (second series) questions;