Feb 21

Feb 21 An Energy in the Room: Interview with April Dávila

I’m a longtime fan of April Dávila’s award-winning blog, a vast collection of her honest, generous writing advice, the kind of support I strive to offer writers myself. I have often recommended her instructional posts about NaNoWriMo, Scrivener, and bullet journaling. So I was excited for April’s debut novel, especially once I saw the cover.

April’s 142 Ostriches really delivered for this bird lover. Ostriches star as a multifaceted metaphor present throughout and described with glorious detail in fascinating zoom-in moments. Add ostriches to my list of beloved birds. Besides that, 142 Ostriches is about women: the main character, stubborn and driven Tallulah, her Mom, Grandma, and Aunt Christine, an ensemble of complex characters I loved.

April received her undergraduate degree from Scripps College before going on to study writing at USC. A fourth-generation Californian, she lives in La Cañada Flintridge with her husband and two children. She is a practicing Buddhist, half-hearted gardener, and occasional runner.

It will be my great pleasure to interview April live and in-person on Saturday, February 29, 2020 at 2pm at Books Inc. in San Francisco’s Opera Plaza. See the link at the end of this interview for details.

Tell me a story.
I met my husband when we were both living in San Francisco. Three years later, when we moved down to Los Angeles, we swore it was temporary. Like all good Northern Californians, we had well developed opinions about our home’s superiority over Southern California. We loved the fog. We loved the compact size of the city and how we could get around without a car. We said 5 years. 5 Years for me to go to grad school and for us both to build our careers, and then we would move back.

But we really came to like Los Angeles. We found a wonderful community of writers and filmmakers, all working to create their art on a professional level. It was exciting. Five years passed quickly, and when it came time to enroll our eldest in school, we decided to stay. I do sometimes miss the fog, but I don’t regret our choice at all. We’ve built a great life down here.

Describe your writing process in as much detail as you dare.
The best metaphor for my writing process is an artist sculpting marble. The blank page is like a giant chunk of uncut rock. I stare at it and see something that isn’t there. Then I take my first pass, cutting away the corners. It’s rough, and if you’re not in my head it still won’t look like much, but I can see it starting to take shape. With each pass the lines get more defined. If I’m very lucky, I end up with something beautiful.

All that is to say, I work in full drafts. I start at the beginning and write through to the end. Then I go back to the beginning and go over it again. My husband is always my first reader. He asks the best questions, helps me to understand the choices I’m making. When I think I’m done I ask a few close friends to read it and then do another pass.

As for outlines, I didn’t use one for “142 Ostriches” and it took me eight years to write a draft I was happy with. For my second book, which is in final revisions now, I decided I would try outlining and it worked out beautifully. Instead of jumping into scene work, I kept expanding my outline until it was almost 60 pages. At that point, finishing a draft felt pretty easy.

A year ago I would have sworn I would never work without an outline again, but this last November, for NaNoWriMo, I started playing with an idea for my third novel. I wrote 50,000 words without an outline and I’m liking it so far. We’ll see how it evolves.

What do writing and sex have in common? How are they different?
I love this question. When my writing is going well, there’s an energy in the room that definitely reminds me of sex. I’ve often wondered about that. My best guess is that it has to do with being open to the moment, to bringing enthusiasm and creativity to an intimate space. When it’s going well, it feels really good.

But then there’s the flip side, the decidedly unsexy aspects of writing. Those are the days when I sit down and write when I really don’t feel like doing it. About half the time, I’m not excited about what I’m writing. I’m just getting words on the page knowing that I will revise them later. Because, at the end of the day, writing is my job.

What do you love about writing?
My greatest disappointment in life is that I will never get to be or do all the things I wish I could be and do. I will most likely never go to space, or fight for survival in the wilderness, or work on an ostrich ranch. But as a writer, I have the best of excuses to dive into all the things that spark my curiosity, to steep myself in them for as long as they hold my interest, then move on.

That’s how I decide what I want to write about. I pay attention to the things I find fascinating. I dig in a little and if every answer opens up more questions, I know I’ve got something I can spend some time with.

And then, when that story is done, I get to move on and indulge some other aspect of my curiosity. I can spend a few years as an ostrich rancher, then wipe my hands of that profession and spend a while exploring what it’s like to be a long distance runner, or a geneticist working on an ethically dubious project.

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I coax sexy writers like April Dávila to reveal their creative secrets and processes in writer interviews to inspire you: