Art & Activism Interview: Sarah Diemer

I am delighted to begin this new series of interviews and guest posts on art and activism. For those of you who don't know, I am doing a series of interviews and guest posts on the subject of art and activism--two topics very near and dear to my heart.

This first interview is with Sarah Diemer, who (whom?) I "met" online through a series of serendipitous connections. Actually, it was me clicking on links that led to links that led to her beautiful writing, then me clicking on "buy" and getting her book, The Dark Wife.

But before I go on and on (and on) as I am wont to do, here is Sarah in her own words!

NM: I was struck with how beautiful the language is in The Dark Wife. You have some gorgeous use of imagery and emotional layering. Can you give us a sense of what have you done to hone your craft? What would you say has been the most helpful method of improving your writing?

SD: Thank you so much, that is so kind of you to say. :) I was home-schooled my entire life, and wrote about five hours a day, every day, growing up. I read voraciously and was just so completely obsessed with the craft of writing from a very young age--I wasn't normal in that regard! *laughing* I was also co-leader of the writer's group in our city for...I think five years, six years? Working so closely with my peers and on so many different projects during that time really pushed me to be able to put out the best work I'm capable of, and to always reach for that level.

NM: Wow, that's a lot of writing! :) When did you first realize you wanted to write stories and have them published?

SD: I was six. I'd written a story about a unicorn--and illustrated it! I sat down with my little sister, who--at that time--was two, and I told her very, very seriously: I am going to be an author. *laughing* I still remember that ridiculous moment, this little girl I was, being so serious. I had that same moment again, a little more seriously, when I was twelve. I'd just written this TERRIBLE BOOK, a fictional account of WWII involving magic, and I told my mother, very seriously, "this is the first. I'm going to be a published author someday," and she knew I meant it.

NM: The Dark Wife is a retelling of the Demeter/Persephone myth. Can you tell us what led you to rewrite the story, and why you picked *this* story, in particular?

SD: As a Pagan woman, Persephone is my matron Goddess. I've been obsessed with her story since I was very small, but it upset me. She's kidnapped and raped and held against her will--hardly empowering stuff. As a lesbian woman, I began to reclaim the myth to something feminist, something that I could relate to. I truly believed that this story was open to new interpretation, that the story could and should be retold and reclaimed, so I set out to do it.

NM: I love that! I believe one key role of good fiction is the reshaping of imagination and retelling/reclaiming myths is so much a part of that. What are your thoughts about the future of publishing? Personally, I am very excited about the possibilities! :)

SD: I am, too! :) Now, more than ever before, as authors and writers, we have so many choices and so many opportunities before us. I believe that traditional publishing will never die, but I believe that the landscape of publishing before us is a new one of independent, self-publishing and traditional publishing working together. Times are changing, and it's exciting how much possibility is now presenting itself to us!

NM: I couldn't agree more. Do you have any tips or suggestions for writers who might want to go the indie publishing route, but don't know how, or are nervous to take the plunge?

SD: I always have a little difficulty answering this question, because I believe, whole-heartedly, in self-publishing, but I also don't want to sit here and yell through a megaphone that it's all tinsel and diamonds and step right up to your six figure publishing year of self-publishing bliss and unicorns. ;D Self-publishing is HARD work, and it requires a work-ethic that the puritans would have commended (oh, those puritans!), and a LOT of energy and tenacity. If you're the type of person who loves crunching numbers and designing book covers and talking about your book tirelessly and you have a very outgoing personality, you will do well with self publishing. If you're daunted by the idea of doing anything but writing/editing a book, self-publishing is not for you. So consider these things--if you believe in your story completely, think you have what it takes (and you MUST believe you can do it, what you believe is a self fulfilling prophecy in any creative endeavor!), then you do. Do it. :) Self-publishing has been the most rewarding thing I've ever done (and I lied--in my self-publishing, there ARE unicorns, but they're part of the stories. ;D).

NM: GREAT advice. Those are sage words of wisdom, dear readers. Sarah, do you think The Dark Wife could be used in a classroom setting? In what ways might the story be of use to educators?

SD: Absolutely! It's a feminist retelling of a very not-so-feminist myth, so educators could use it in feminist or mythological studies, the changing roles of women in history, or even in a creative sense, reclaiming myths and changing them to create something you can relate to. In a minority setting, it could be read and discussed, as to why it's important that queer stories are told, and why it's important that straight people read them (empathy toward minorities, etc.).

NM: You deal with some pretty heavy issues in The Dark Wife, and you might be aware that the topic of sex and violence in books for young adults is a hot button topic with passionate opinions on both sides. What are your thoughts on this?

SD: We were all young adults once, and we all know what we were thinking about/feeling. As as a lesbian teenager, I was one big roiling ball of hormones and angst and walking-drama-and-tragedy-my-straight-best-friend-will-never-know-I-love-her. Teenagers, gay and straight, use expletives, have sex, explore themselves with adventure and prose and story-telling and all of these wonderful things, and the stories that we put out that reflect them need to reflect the rich variedness of their experiences. Sex, swearing, etc. is part of the young adult experience, and they see violence in their everyday lives. If a story is stripped of the inherent truthiness of life, teenagers are going to notice, and it won't touch them. I want my stories to touch them, to reach them on the level that they're at, not try to sugar-coat their story.

NM: Speaking of speaking to teenagers, what has been the response to TDW from young readers?

SD: It's been...wow. Outstanding. Staggering. Humbling. I have been told that this little story made a girl have hope about life again. I've been told that this one young girl now had the courage to come out--something she never thought she could do--because of THE DARK WIFE. One girl read it and said she finally believed she could find a girlfriend, could now find the courage to do it. It's given hope and courage and the belief in something better to young girls, and that of all of the responses and ways that it's changed MY life, is the most rewarding, the most amazing. That my book touched people on such a deep, changing level is the most wonderful thing I could ever know. I'm so grateful that these girls told me how much it meant to them, so grateful that they were so touched, and so deeply humbled that it helped them in any way.

NM: Where can readers purchase your books?

SD: You can get them on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords in both print and eReader versions. You can find all of the links on my site, http://www.oceanid.org

NM: If you had one message you could go back in time to give to your 17-year-old self, what would it be?

SD: You're gay, and you're a writer, and you're trying to do this crazy thing: write gay girl stories that everyone will love. People are telling you that's impossible, people are telling you that because you're gay, you're less than. None of this is true. Some day, you'll find out that your stories about gay girls will change lives, and you need to keep writing them, and you need to keep believing in yourself. You're gay and you're awesome and you need to remember that when everyone else tells you differently. (And that goes for every seventeen year old [or any age] gay boy or girl reading this. <3)

It's A Great Time to Speak Up

Sometimes, I look at my timeline on Twitter, and see authors, myself included, squeeing about new book covers, pleading with readers to buy/help promote books, discussing ways to hone one's skills and increase chances of getting published, etc. Usually, this is in the midst of tweets from other parts of the world where people are tweeting about the very real climate crisis, the very real revolutions going on in different parts of the planet, and the very real movements for social justice during one of the most critical times our collective human brain has witnessed to date. In case you missed it, we're teetering on a cusp right now. The decisions we make as a collective can really affect whether we survive. Seriously.

As I've written before, many, many voices and expressions are routinely muted while others are lifted in this society of ours. That's what the Occupy movement is all about. A handful of people make decisions about who gets to sit in the spotlight and how many thousands hold audience in the dark. A limited few perspectives get held up to the light, receive financial support, or are aggressively marketed and amplified. But you know what? We're not living in times where we can afford to wait for someone to give us the nod before we express our thoughts and opinions. One voice can and does make a difference. We've seen it time and again throughout history.

Things are changing--fast. There is access to new technology. Anyone can record and broadcast human rights violations and police brutality as they are happening. Thousands tweeted the eviction of the Occupy Wall Street protesters, despite Mayor Bloomberg's "media blackout." In fact, Occupy Wall Street has morphed into Occupy Our Homes -- taking back hundreds of thousands of empty, foreclosed homes in one of the highest periods of homelessness in this country, ever. Ebooks are widely accepted and read, and are available globally to anyone who has access to a reader, computer, or cell phone. Thoughts, ideas, and information are exchanged with lightning speed over the internet. The balance of power is totally shifting.

If ever there was a time it was more important for people to speak up, to not wait for someone else to provide validation, to throw their contribution into the ring to help shape the future of this little planet under siege, now is it.

Some of my friends have said to me, "Come on. It's not that bad. There are some really great publishers/filmmakers/singers, etc., doing great stuff, no?"

Yes, there are. But they're not the most visible or as widely publicized. And there are not enough of us to compensate for the tremendous imbalance in access and representation. I tell my friends, "If you think things are not 'really that bad,' you haven't been paying attention. Or you've been paying attention to the loudest, not necessarily the truest. Turn off mainstream media for a week and seek out other sources of news and information, then let's talk." Because guess what? We're not supposed to know how bad things are. If we did, we'd all be dropping everything to make it right. We'd unplug from the buying machine, and demand something different -- create something different.

Things are that bad. But the good news is that there is time for change. The U.N. Summit for Climate Change just took place in Durban, South Africa. There are scientists pleading with nations to take responsibility, to implement policies that will reverse some of the damage we've done to the planet, to reduce greenhouse emissions and help steer us toward another path -- a less destructive path. But the most powerful nations on the planet are, at best, not listening. At worse, they are flat out denying that climate change is even real, or even worser, putting the blame/responsibility squarely on the shoulders of poorer nations.

The message is: We don't have to change anything. Things are working fine the way they are. Don't worry your pretty little heads, we got this.

The problem is that things are not working fine for a huge majority of the planet. And that huge majority just happens to be mostly PoC, mostly women and children, and mostly working class.

So, yeah. Now is the time to speak up. Artists/writers/storytellers/musicians have, historically, helped shape the cultures and societies they've lived in. They've served as a voice and mirror for the people. They've entertained, educated, and enlightened.

Folks in positions of power are not about to give their power up. But the rest of us are not completely power-less. If someone won't help you put your book out, you can put it out yourself. These days, the production quality of independently published books is right on par with corporate publishers. Just make your book the very best piece of art you've ever created. Put your expression as an artist, a world citizen, as someone with something valuable to contribute, out there. Release your voice into the world, so that more and more perspectives are heard. Until there is a strong chorus, challenging the same tunes we keep hearing over and over again. Art that supports the status quo is akin to propaganda. Art that challenges and throws the status quo into a new light is creativity. It's dynamic love.

The audience always outnumbers the performers. Participate. And totally squee about books and promote them and buy them. But let's help get more voices out in the mix. It'll completely change the landscape. More people speaking up and putting their perspectives out there is the only thing that will create the kind of change we need right now.


"I write for those women who do not speak, for those who do not have a voice because they were so terrified, because we are taught to respect fear more than ourselves. We've been taught that silence would save us, but it won't." -- Audre Lorde

"Life is very short and what we have to do must be done in the now." -- Audre Lorde

"Say something!" -- Bob Marley

Fangirl Crush

I love Sheila Chandra. Her story is inspiring, her voice is magic, and she has this total earth-mother-goddess vibe. She has no classical training in music and, as a child, she practiced singing so that her voice would be ready when the opportunity came. This is from the bio on her website:

"Born in South London to a South Indian immigrant family, Sheila Chandra discovered her voice at the age of twelve and whilst at Theatre Arts school. From this moment her chosen path was to be a singer. Lacking any real contacts or access to the music business, she nevertheless honed her vocal skills as a labour of love, spending up to two hours a night throwing her voice into the tall, draughty and uncarpeted stairwell of the family home: 'I didn’t know how to manufacture an opportunity, but I was determined that when a chance came my way I would be ready.'"

Don't you just love that? She is an artist's artist - constantly scrapping everything and starting from scratch, transforming herself and her art, and stitching new styles together as she goes along. *Very* inspiring.

I just came across this early video of her beatboxing, in the ancient, Indian style . . . 

The Power of Art and Story

This is fantastic; truly a testament to the power of art and story. Do watch it through to the end:

Brave Dissenting Voices

This past weekend, at a poetry workshop for mentors and mentees of Girls Write Now, I was introduced to HBO's Brave New Voices series. As one of the mentors in the series says, the series proves that not all young people consume mass media culture without questioning it, challenging it, and raising their voices against it. Many (if not most) young people--young adults--are out there actively dissenting--actively and *critically* engaging in the world around them. Railing and shouting in the face of corporate and media giants that muzzle true creativity; the forces of imperialism and colonialism; and oppression and injustice of all kinds.

Check out the below clips of teens letting the fire rage through them; crackling, regenerating, and transforming . . . as it creates hope, and breathes new life.

Here's 15-year-old Alexis, of Team New York City, y'all:



And Aysha, a junior at the University of Pennsylvania:



And Jamaica, "A self-described 'mixed mutt' in ethnic background, Jamaica says, 'I'm Hawaiian, Chinese, German, Portuguese, English, Irish and French. I am almost a quarter Hawaiian and definitely identify mostly as a Hawaiian.'":



Watching these young people rage and express makes my heart swell with pride. It gives me the push I need to keep writing work that speaks to their experience, and reflects their realities. As we head toward Thanksgiving weekend, these videos remind me that Love is the motivating spark behind all true and great creative expression.

Ripples To Waves

The other night, the hubs and I watched Sin Nombre. We'd heard great things about this film and were excited to see it. We were very disappointed. The film is about two young adults trying to escape their life circumstances. One is trying to cross into the US through Mexico, the other is trying to outrun a life of gang violence. I kept hoping throughout the film for some...hope. There was certainly some redemption, but it was not nearly enough.

I kept wondering what the story would have been if the camera had been put in the hands of Mexicans, or Hondurans. Would the characters have had the same arcs? Would the ending have been the same?

I think about one of my favorite films of all time, Favela Rising, and how different that film was from this one. It dealt with some of the same issues: poverty, the slums of South America, gang violence, trying to find a way out of despair. But the crew of that film put cameras in the hands of Brazilians. The kids and young men and women of the slum told their own story through their own eyes. And the picture was SO vastly different from what was depicted in Sin Nombre. Favela Rising was a story of empowerment, hope, of love for one's own people and community, of the beauty and unbreakable spirit of a people. It was about the power of music, art, and creativity to heal, to transform, and to help people transcend their circumstances. And, even though the film was "created" by two "regular," US dudes, they gave cameras to the people who lived in the community they wanted to tell a story about. These two regular, US dudes then took the proceeds from the movie and invested ALL of the money back into the community that opened itself up to their cameras.

Granted, SN was fiction and FR non-fiction. But as crafters of story, we are the ones who edit and revise, and decide what the ultimate plot or arc will be. We are the ones who decide what the story is, whose story it is, and what the characters learn, discover, or accomplish.

Here's a quick snippet from Jeff Zimbalist, one of the directors of FR from his Director's Statement:

"It seems most people’s image of global harmony or disharmony is predominantly shaped by the media. When I find myself surrounded by stories of the world falling apart, naturally I imagine the world as a place falling apart. The more access I have to stories of communities that work, the more I imagine a world in which people are also realizing change and breaking the odds stacked against them. I am attracted to these vital and inspiring stories because it is in them that I find myself the most activated and alive."

Whenever people talk about not knowing what to do in their lives to change the way things are, I think about these kinds of simple, ordinary things people do all the time--in whatever capacity they can. Something as seemingly-minor as putting a camera in the hands of someone whose story has never been heard--you don't have to be a Spielberg or a Tarantino. Or giving voice to someone whose voice is usually not considered important/valuable/newsworthy/marketable. These small things are what it takes to make real, lasting changes. These are the things that inspire, spark a chain reaction, and create ripples that turn into large waves.

Writers On Writing: Jeanette Winterson

I found the video for this quite annoying, but the audio--OMG. Jeanette Winterson is amazing. She talks about the importance of art in the midst of what might be considered more "urgent" matters, like terrorism and war...

I've avoided posting about Michael's passing because I've had mixed feelings. As someone who understands all too well the damage childhood sexual abuse can leave behind, reports of his alleged sexual abuse of young boys were extremely painful to take in. And these were all the more difficult to process, given his numerous medical treatments to alter his blackness and the shunning of that blackness in his life; a life that was so complex and full of extremes in all directions.

But I can't help the tremendous sadness I've felt at the loss of the innocent creative spirit in a little boy whose memory will live on, well beyond our time.

In this video, his haunting acapella solo echoes with sadness and loneliness. It makes me want to tear into the people who exploited and abused a gift so vulnerable and so precious, while shaking (at the least) the man Michael became -- a man who further destroyed that little boy he used to be, possibly in ways he, himself, had been destroyed.

*whispers* The other night, H and I got to go out. Like, really out -- it was almost like the old days with loud, thrumming music and sweaty people dancing too close to you.

Except this was not a night club. This was a show. And it was one of the most amazing experiences, ever. If you're in or around NYC, you MUST check it out. It is called Fuerza Bruta (Brute Force); it is participatory, active, and you are visually and audio-ly (auditorily? earily?) hyper-stimulated throughout, but not in a bad way.

On the floor, we -- the observers/participants -- were young, old, gay, straight, white, brown, male, female (someone even brought their young children, though I wouldn't recommend this, personally) and we all had the same "seats." The lights were out most of the time and it didn't matter how much you owned or what suit or shoes you had on. During that performance space and time, we all had to move around the stage ("stage" being a relative term referring to conveyor belts, people dangling from cables in the ceiling, and sliding through giant plastic pools above our heads) as we became part of the set. We watched the characters breaking out, breaking free, yelling, pounding and screaming their way through the disconnect in life.

Here is one of my favorite bits from the show...



And here I am jumping up and down like I still have the knees of a teenager...



Big fun. Seriously -- next time you're in New York...