 “When you’re strange, no one remembers your name.” So sang The Lizard King, Jim Morrison on The Doors’ “People Are Strange.” He was wrong, however. At least in the case of Farah Rose Smith. Smith is strange. Her writing is strange. Even she herself, in the interview you’re about to read, cites strangeness as a common attribute across her myriad artistic pursuits. But in many ways it is that strangeness which makes Smith’s work stand out among even the most experimental and transgressive creators working in genre fiction today. The strangeness of Smith’s work is one that blurs the line between poetry and prose, between the supernatural and allegorical, the psychological and theological, the sacred and profane. It is a strangeness that defies easy categorization and challenges readers to actively engage with the words on the page instead of passively experience them. Most importantly, Smith’s strangeness is a genuine strangeness, a personal strangeness. It is her strangeness and no one else’s. And it is a strangeness that makes her name more than worth remembering. Following the release of her first collection, Of One Pure Will, and just days before the release of a new anthology she’s edited, Machinations and Mesmerism: Tales Inspired by E.T.A. Hoffmann, Smith sat down with The Ginger Nuts of Horror to talk about her unconventional writing process, about the importance of writing for oneself rather than an audience, and about finding wonder in the world even when life is at its darkest… and strangest. First off, Farah, I wanted to say thank you for taking the time to speak with me today. Before we get too deep into things, I was wondering if you’d mind providing a little background for any readers who might be new to you and your work. How long have you been writing and publishing? Where are you from? What do you do outside the writing world? I’ve been writing since before I could write. I’d make tiny picture books with my mom at 4 or 5, and this increased in complexity as I aged. I won the 5th grade fiction contest for a vampire story. I have an absurd, silly pride in that anecdote. I was always serious about it, though my real development as a writer came at around 16, when I started developing novel ideas. It was around 2013 that I got involved in the Weird fiction world. As for publishing, I started with Mantid Magazine, and I’m not sure what year it was! Perhaps 2015. I faced so much sexism in the horror film and fiction industries that I really wanted to make a platform to celebrate women and woman-identifying folks. I was born in Providence, Rhode Island in 1991 to two rock musicians. I grew up in a nearby suburban town, in poverty. I struggled with chronic illness since 4 months old. Outside of writing, I am training with serious intention and intensity in bellydance. Mainly classical and folkloric Egyptian styles. I’m not a big fan of the modern versions that emphasize athleticism over dancing with your heart. I am also inching towards a degree, since my education has been slowed by ailments. You’ve been very busy as of late. A few months ago you released a novella, Anonyma, which I had the great pleasure of reviewing on this very website. Your first short story collection, Of One Pure Will, just went on sale in the form of a beautiful limited-edition hardcover from Egaeus Press. And you’ve edited an anthology, Machinations and Mesmerism: Tales Inspired by E.T.A. Hoffmann, which at the time of this writing is just days away from release via Ulthar Press. What has it been like for you, this flurry of different projects coming so close together? Exhausting? Exhilarating? Thank you for that generous review of Anonyma! I get a great amount of satisfaction, pleasure, and confidence from these types of writing and publishing projects, so I am rarely exhausted. Usually exhaustion only comes about when I must rely on others to get certain elements of projects done, because I am very picky about timeliness and efficiency, but in these cases, I have been fortunate to work with some wonderful folks like Mark Beech at Egaeus Press and Sam Gafford at Ulthar Press. Having said that, I don’t know that I am exhilarated either. I think when one has a history of trauma and illness, the good things have a tendency to be experienced in a haze until you “train yourself” to be in the present moment. That’s something I’m working on, and fortunately getting better at. I am very grateful for all of it, but not quite sure it is all a dream. Reading through both Anonyma and Of One Pure Will, one of the things that immediately jumps out at me is your style, which is very distinctive. The language is rich and poetic, at times almost impenetrably so. How would you describe your style? What effects are you hoping to evoke with it? And how do you feel about the possibility that this style might be too dense or elusive for some readers? I think it is dream-like, archaic, emotive. I don’t have any intentions in regards to invoking anything in a reader, because I have absolutely no control over how someone is going to perceive what I write. As for it being too dense of a style, this has always been hard for me. My mom was the first one to tell me that what I was writing was “over her head,” and I insisted that it wasn’t. I don’t think I have a good degree of awareness when it comes to how others receive the work, so because of that, for my own sanity and determination to continue, I need to allow the ones who will appreciate it to find it, and hope that others will leave it with grace. One thing I’m always interested in is when an author releases a collection in which the title of the book is shared by one of its stories. Is there any special significance of the story “Of One Pure Will”? What made you choose that as the title of your collection? There is a line in that story that says: “My daughter is of one pure will. An unspeakably heavy knowledge of the labyrinthian depths of life.” For me, it was meant to reflect the will to live despite what others would consider to be debilitating strangeness and the painful intensities of introversion and emotional sensitivity. I think every protagonist in this book embodies some unshakable will, whether they conquer the matters against them or not. Has gathering so many of your short works together for this collection—some of them a bit older, some of them still very new—impacted the way you look at your own output at all? Do you see things in them, either commonalities or evolutions that you may not have noticed over the years as the pieces came out of you naturally? I can’t bring myself to read the oldest ones without pain! “Sorcerer Machine” is the first written of those in this collection. It was my attempt at Lovecraftian horror with a significant female character (though she is not the protagonist). I have since been able to develop my own distinctive style rather than relying on piecing together styles of my favorite writers (though it may be argued that my current style is that with more refinement), so for that I am quite thankful. If there is any commonality in the stories, it is first the will that I previously mentioned. Also, despite intense sadness, there is always some thread of hope. I think those glimmers of goodness, at least through my perception, are the most significant aspect of the stories. Much of your work that I’ve read has an almost suffocating sense of sadness to it, but also elements of wonder and beauty. Do you feel there is a relationship between these seemingly disparate tones? Do you feel like you benefit on a personal level from being able explore such intense darkness in your fiction? I don't benefit personally at all from the content that I explore in what I write. I find writing to be an arduous and oppressive experience most of the time. The only benefit of writing such things is finishing them, and the satisfaction of having completed something, which is a certain kind of ecstasy in my experience. The sadness is undoubtedly present because of my mental and physical health challenges, though I don’t include it intentionally. What I write just happens. I don’t force it or approach many stories with an elaborate amount of planning. As for the connections between beauty, wonder, and sadness, I honestly don’t know what to think. I would be curious as to what a scholar of Gothic or Symbolist literature would think. I am not yet at the point in my studies where I can illuminate my own subconscious thoughts. Personally, I think finding beauty in sadness is a very wrong variety of morbid, but for beauty to exist around sadness is quite a different, and sometimes remarkable, thing. Perhaps I am capturing my ability to appreciate the world despite oppressive depression. Fiona Geist wrote a very illuminating introduction for this collection. Something in it that struck me was the suggestion of you possibly using automatic writing or some variation of Tristan Tzara’s cut-up technique. That’s not a connection I would have made on my own, but considering the surreal and iconoclastic nature of your fiction, it does make sense. Would you elaborate a little on what your writing process is like? To you, what is the appeal or advantage of these kinds of unconventional techniques? I don’t make direct use of automatic writing, though the techniques I use are similar. I developed my own aleatory technique to accommodate some of my cognitive problems after I had a stroke at 18. The technique is simple. I pick two or three words at random and string together a sentence in my mind. Sometimes I elaborate upon that single sentence in a trancelike state. Sometimes I accumulate up to a hundred pages of single-sentences and string them together to create a passage, a chapter, a novella. Many parts of Anonyma were written in this way, which is probably why it took nearly 7 years to write. I see no appeal in these alternative techniques. It gives me an advantage as someone who is dealing with acquired neurodiversity, to continue to write despite the rewiring of my brain. I know you’ve frequently cited the influence of the Decadent and Symbolist movements on your own work. What is it about those movements that connects with you? How do you feel you’ve adapted elements of those movements into your own unique voice? Strangely, I still struggle to connect my work to the Decadents. When I started doing readings at the Lovecraft Arts and Sciences store in Providence, RI, people would remark on my work as being Decadent. I had not yet read works from this era. They continue to tell me I am Decadent, and I continue to use the term, even after reading many works of the time, because it makes sense to the people who appreciate my work. To me, if I am to be categorized at all, I am a Symbolist-Gothic more than a Decadent. The Symbolists were painterly in their writing, using an enormous amount of color, which I try to do. The Gothics were writing with tragic romantic undercurrents. If I must be categorized, perhaps I am best put there (but I hate categories). Presumably another influence of yours is German fantasist E.T.A. Hoffmann. As mentioned earlier, you’re all set to release a Hoffman-inspired anthology. Can you tell me a little about that, who all is involved, how the project came to be, etc.? I approached Sam Gafford, the owner of Ulthar Press, about doing the anthology Machinations and Mesmerism: Tales Inspired by E.T.A. Hoffmann last year, and I was thrilled that he jumped at the opportunity to publish it. There are some wonderful authors contributing to this collection, and I am glad to say we have writers of various genders, writers of color, international writers. It is the most diverse anthology I have ever had the pleasure of editing. You’ll see stories from Jayaprakash Satyamurthy, LC von Hessen, Rhys Hughes, Sonya Taaffe, Michael Cisco, and many more! It will be released on June 25th and copies will be available for sale at Readercon and NecronomiCon. What is it about Hoffmann’s work that made you want to put together this anthology in the first place? How do you feel the different stories have captured or paid tribute to the spirit of Hoffmann’s literary legacy? I first read Hoffmann when I was taking a year off after graduating high school. My best friend was studying literature at the University of Rochester, and would send me their used textbooks after their semesters ended. I received an anthology of his stories and they revolutionized my spirit. I continued on to find more of his fiction, his letters, everything I could, and still hope to include him in my scholarly studies as I approach the possibility of graduate school. What I really came to be proud of in this anthology is how the different writers tap into the very different elements of Hoffmann’s writing. There are those who associate him with Offenbach’s opera, or those who have only read Der Sandman. There are modern and classical stories here. Horrific and fantastic. Subtle and Blatant. I was very lucky to receive stories that illuminated both the traditional and bizarre in Hoffmann’s oeuvre, and hope that people who have not read many of his works will be compelled to do so after reading this anthology. And that the fans will feel it honors him properly. So you’re an author and an editor. You’re also a filmmaker and a dancer. Anything else I’m missing? Are there any common elements in these art-forms that connects them? Or, in terms of their differences, are there things that you get from one or can express through one that you can’t with another? I have never been able to choose “just one thing,” so I loom perilously close to the jack of all trades, master of none thing. The commonality among them is the strangeness, Gothicness, emotiveness with which I pursue and project my aesthetic and linguistic preferences. Film was a sad venture for me because of the enormous amount of sexism and ableism I faced. I made some short films and long to make more, but there is only so much you can say on a nonexistent budget. On the page, you can say anything. Dance is a unique medium because it is the first through which I am able to manifest true joy. I must admit that if I had to choose one medium to practice in for the remainder of my life, it would be dance. We’re only halfway through the year and you’ve got a new novella on the market, you have your first short story collection, and you’re soon to be releasing the aforementioned Hoffmann tribute anthology. What does the rest of the 2019 hold for you? Do you have any specific goals or projects that you’re looking forward to pursuing? I will be attending Readercon this year, and it’ll be my first time attending as a participant. I will also be attending NecronomiCon, where I will be presenting a paper at the Armitage Symposium, among other things. I am currently at work on my first full-length novel, a Gothic Horror piece. My ultimate wishes in the publishing world are to have an agent, to publish a full-length novel, and for there to be a short or feature-length adaptation of one of my stories. Needless to say, these things will probably not happen this year! But I am in it for the long haul. Honestly, the biggest project for the remainder of the year is planning my wedding. For those interested in following your work, what are the best ways readers can do that? I may be found at all of the following: Visit my website: http://farahrose92.wixsite.com/grimoirepictures Like my page on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/farahrosesmith/ Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/farahrosesmith Thank you again for taking the time to talk to The Ginger Nuts of Horror. It’s been wonderful having you. Thank you for speaking with me! of one pure will by farah rose smith Of One Pure Will contains eighteen short pieces: strange, decadent, restless stories which seem to map their very own attic space at the edge of the waking world: A treacherous, amorphic region, shewn in a style that writhes and twists, but is never out of Farah Rose Smith's meticulous control. The full table of contents is as follows: An Ethics of Magical Vulnerability: The Works of Farah Rose Smith by Fiona Maeve Geist The Wytch-Byrd of The Nabryd-Keind In The Way of Eslan Mendeghast Of Marble and Mud The Visitor The Land of Other As Unbreakable as The World An Account Above Burnside Park As With Alem Sorcerer Machine Dark Ocean Ash in The Pocket folie à plusiers Rithenslofer (The Corpses of Mer) In The Room of Red Night Of One Pure Will Time Disease (In The Waking City) Ivisou The River Acknowledgements   Comments are closed.
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