Questions:
Where did the inspiration for Pure come from? Why dystopian?
I never thought of the word dystopian while writing PURE. Post-apocalypse, yes. But that feels more incidental. Dystopian feels more philosophical. I think that I came at the novel up through the roots of magical realism. So the larger ideas that exist -- or seem to -- those BIG ideas of dystopian literature don't apply as much -- or if they do, it's something for the reader to apply. I was trying to tell an intimate story against a massive landscape, a world I got to build by hand, word by word. I hope this helps.
How did you come up with the names for your characters? They're very unique.
Names come and sometimes for various reasons, they have to be changed. That's painful. Nicknames are odd in that I don't know where they come from and have to dig -- Partridge and El Capitan work that way. I love making up names. I'd in fact love to make up more words, but people don't care for that so much. In my poetry, I use words that have been dropped from the English language. A little loophole.
When did you start writing this book? How long did it take?
It's a great question. I should dig and find out. I started in stories -- and the stories didn't work. (One of the many was published.) But the characters kept existing. I wrote while I was on deadline for other books -- so it was time squirreled away over some years.
What is your writing process? Does it change daily? Weekly?
It's pretty constant. In fact, I write while not writing. I write in my head.
If you could write anywhere in the world, where would that be?
I love Paris. It's a cliche to love Paris, isn't it? But I do. But in general I love to write in small rooms, tight spaces, preferably cluttered.
What is your favorite thing about writing?
I just heard Jennifer Egan say that a good solution to a problem in a work solves two. And that struck me. I love it when I find a solution to a problem and it sets things in order -- tink tink tink tink -- back through the book.
What are you reading right now?
I'm not supposed to be reading now. I'm under a very strict deadline. So I'm (not) reading The Snow Child and The Orphan Master's Son and I just ordered Setting the House in Order and a nonfiction book called Everyone Loves a Good Train Wreck. (Don't tell anyone.)
Is there a book you've read recently that's had a big impact on you or your writing? Which book? Why?
Books of old words, as I mentioned above. It's finding language. I love that. Antiques. Collecting them and using them anew.
What's your current musical obsession?
Oh, damn. I don't know. My parents are in town and have XM Sirius and a whole station devoted to Frank Sinatra. A whole station! And when I drive with them they make me listen to it. I thought Send in the Clowns was the stupidest song as a kid, but now I find it violently sad.
What is your favorite book, sweet, and other treat?
I can't pick favorite books. I sometimes say 100 Years of Solitude just to get out of it. Fave sweet? Dark chocolate with sea salt. Treat? Sitcoms. I like watching sitcoms with my kids. I watched Happy Days and MASH with my Dad. They brought up conversation. It may seem trivial but they were good conversations actually. (I also like to dance.)
About the book:
About the book:
We know you are here, our brothers and sisters . . .
Pressia barely remembers the Detonations or much about life during the Before. In her sleeping cabinet behind the rubble of an old barbershop where she lives with her grandfather, she thinks about what is lost-how the world went from amusement parks, movie theaters, birthday parties, fathers and mothers . . . to ash and dust, scars, permanent burns, and fused, damaged bodies. And now, at an age when everyone is required to turn themselves over to the militia to either be trained as a soldier or, if they are too damaged and weak, to be used as live targets, Pressia can no longer pretend to be small. Pressia is on the run.
Burn a Pure and Breathe the Ash . . .
There are those who escaped the apocalypse unmarked. Pures. They are tucked safely inside the Dome that protects their healthy, superior bodies. Yet Partridge, whose father is one of the most influential men in the Dome, feels isolated and lonely. Different. He thinks about loss-maybe just because his family is broken; his father is emotionally distant; his brother killed himself; and his mother never made it inside their shelter. Or maybe it's his claustrophobia: his feeling that this Dome has become a swaddling of intensely rigid order. So when a slipped phrase suggests his mother might still be alive, Partridge risks his life to leave the Dome to find her.
When Pressia meets Partridge, their worlds shatter all over again. (Summary from Goodreads)
