1. What inspired you to write ‘Seas Come Still’
It’s an accidental novel, really. It started out as a compendium of historical research on the links between Minoan feminine spirituality, Hermetic history, and what we think we know about paganism. I realized after several years that I lacked the academic credentials to publish it as historical non-fiction. So I created a storyline and characters to convey the ideas for me. That’s when the real fun started. I could fill in historical blanks with my imagination and best guesses; take risks that can only be forgiven a novelist with narrative license. This included a re-invention of the Minoan language, about which we still know very little. It’s best read with your Google machine open, as there is at least some plausible factual basis for pretty much everything in the book. But I also fell in love (or hate, or both) with many of the characters. 2. What drew you to mix Historical Romance with Magic Realism? Wow, great question! To me they seem inextricably linked. (Thinks a while). You may be hitting on the heart of the matter here! I’ve felt like these women, throughout history the ones (mostly falsely) called witches, were feared not only for their perceived power and independence, but also for their sexuality. The book tries to strip them of shamanistic myth and patriarchal polemic, and take an intimate and often very passionate look at the real magic that remains. So I’ll answer by once more hiding behind my characters. Selkie Singer says “true magic is neither pure nor perfect, and arises only when divinity meets passion.” 3. What are your thoughts on how LGBTQ+ characters are portrayed in major novels and film? Do you feel improvements could be made? Definitely improvements can be made. I think there are fundamental, generational sea changes in LGBTQ voice and character indices. But many stereotypes of the past are still incorporated in modern literature and media, innocently or not. The spectrum of queer expression has expanded at the same time that the acceptance—and more importantly the self-acceptance—of the millennial community have grown. Look at the decline in the number of “gay bars,” as the community feels perhaps less wanting of social privacy, and are demanding a broader range of safe space. That said, the latest mode of LGBTQ expression is anger, and rightly so, given the potential 180 degree turn we are facing in government policy here and globally. Of course writing historical LGBTQ characters is particularly challenging. There will always be significant differences in expression across time and culture. The novel runs from the Bronze Age Mediterranean, which was likely not only indifferent but in many cases exploitative of alternative sexuality, to Georgian English naval society, in which my characters have to hide their preferences under literal pain of death. Tragically, sexual injustice and predation seem the only constant. I take a fairly matter-of-fact approach to my LGBTQ characters. Their lives are authentic and subjectively valid, without the necessity of explanatory narrative and regardless of how others may view them. In some cases, as with the transgender experience, I try to bring it home to the reader though living metaphor rather than direct description. Hope that’s not too vague, but want to avoid spoilers. J 4. What do you do to get into the mindset of characters that don’t necessarily posses your qualities, so much so that you can write their voice? Writing dialog turned out for me to be the most unexpectedly fulfilling aspect of the novelist’s journey. As a native New Yorker, I’ve grown up amidst one of the richest hodgepodges of dialects and cultural voices in the world. New Yorkers are proudly accepting of diversity, yet at the same time very intense in their emotional judgment and reaction set. But for me, this was just the brush and pallet. It had to be combined with deep introspection. Many of my characters are based on family members, friends, etc. But to avoid making characters into caricatures, the writer needs to meet these people again in her own mind, apply empathy and love, even for antagonists, and inhabit their deeper motives, fears and dreams. I’m not sure—in the end maybe we discover, like the Buddha did, that everyone we meet is really ourselves. The art may lie in making the reader reach the same conclusion. 5. When reading a book, does the gender, preference or ethnicity of the author impact the voice you assign to the novel in your head? It shouldn’t right? But it does, at least at first. This is one of the reasons why I much prefer knowing little about an author until I’ve read something she wrote. I think the devotion of the novelist is that of interpreter. To convey the voice, character and experiences of others to those who have not lived them. But if you confine that gift only to your own experiences and worldview, then you are writing memoir, not fiction, in my opinion. Maybe you could say that it has to start with humanistic tourism. Get into people. People as different from yourself as possible. Breathe with them, weep with them, share their values but also learn to get their joke. And then, if they have conveyed something compelling to you, bear it artfully to your readers. Hope that makes sense. 6. What are you currently reading and why did you pick it up? The Durrell-Miller Letters, 1935-80. Edited by Ian S. MacNiven. I love historical correspondence, which I think may show in my epistolary writing style. I picked it up wandering though an out-of-print bookstore. Durrell is a big influencer for me. Also there are two naked guys on the cover. 7. What do you do outside of writing awesome novels? For fun I read and review books, especially history and historical fiction, cook, sail and sing, sometimes simultaneously. Predictable results. I love Pilates, and walking as far as possible in our big city. 8. What’s next for J.P. Jamin? My current novel project is The Clip of a Galloping Goddess, which I hope will come out this year depending on how much of my editor’s abuse I can take without losing the will to live. It another historical novel, set in 18th century colonial America, and traces the sometimes bizarre experiences of Prince Dimitri Gallitzin, a ghost hunter and missionary. It has character and narrative ties to The Seas Come Still, but I’m not sure I’d totally call it a sequel. If you like, it shows the much, much darker side of the Minoan witches. J |
THOUGHTWARDSThoughtwards is a blog celebrating forward thought and the diverse thinkers who think them.
M. Lachi is an award winning recording/performing artist and composer, a published author, and a proponent of forward thinking. Having studied Management at UNC and Music at NYU, M. Lachi employs both savvies in her creative endeavors. For more on M. Lachi's music click here. |