Futures and Freedom Audio Series

There are SBWN and Book Week Scotland logos in the top left. Text: Futures and Freedom: Writing Hope in a Dystopia. Audio Interview Series. Listen to each episode online. Image: background photo of space.

Episode Library

Futures and Freedom: Writing Hope in a Dystopia is a series of three interviews with writers of colour in or with connections to Scotland in partnership with the Scottish BPOC Writers Network and Book Week Scotland. The interviews were hosted by committee members, Kelly Kanayama and Nailah King

Listen to each episode from featured writers Zoe Lorimer, Arianne Maki and Chris Lau Manson

We hope as you listen each episode inspires your writing and helps you imagine new and generative futures. 

You are welcome to listen to inspire your creative writing practice.

To access the full transcript, select the “plus” button underneath the player. 

Transcripts are lightly edited for clarity and accuracy.

Games as Writing Prompts and Creative Exploration featuring Zoe Lorimer

Thumbnail image of Zoe Lorimer. There are SBWN and Book Week Scotland logos in the top left. Text: Interview. Zoe Lorimer. Futures and freedom audio series.

Nailah King:  

Today’s episode of Futures and Freedom: Writing Hope in a Dystopia, an audio interview series we’re talking with Zoe Lorimer. Zoe Lorimer is a Black Scottish freelance writer and creative from Edinburgh, passionate about social well being and racially marginalized communities. Her work is informed by eight years of working in South Korea, Taiwan and Australia. Zoe’s writing has been published in roots and rebellion, personal stories of resisting racism and reclaiming identity, and featured internationally by Ketagalan Media and The News Lens. Welcome.

 

Zoe Lorimer:  

Thank you. Well, it sounds impressive when you read my bio like that. It’s like accomplished kind of. 

 

Nailah:

You’re a published writer, and we’re so happy to have you. So I’m just going to dive into these questions. Part of the theme for book week Scotland is hope. So I want to ask you, how do you define hope as it relates to your creative practice?

 

Zoe:  

For me, I can’t think about hope without also thinking about faith and trust like I feel like hope for me, it can, you know, go up and down quite quickly, and then having more like faith is more stabilizing, like, middle ground that the kind of hope bounces off of. So like reflecting on just reflects on my life, like, the more, um, have faith looking at my past experiences, or even, like the world on a more long term view and having faith of like, Oh, I’ve been here before. We’ve been here before. You know, my hope won’t plummet like so low, or like bounce unrealistically high, and then having, you know, if I hope for something, if there isn’t trust to back up to trust that whatever I hope for has the potentiality to actually happen? 

 

Yeah, I feel like, without that trust, the hope also just like, disintegrates into nothing. So that’s my kind of spiel about hope. Like, okay, for me, there is no hope without also considering what, what faith is there in my life or people’s life, and what trust is there as well. And in terms of my creative practice, I do lots of different things, and I think at the essence of them all, most of them are either about storytelling or expressing myself. So again, thinking about hope, if I’m trying to tell a story, I think consciously or unconsciously, I’m trying to have influence. I’m trying to have a positive influence. You know, hoping for change, hoping for positive change. And I guess what is positive to me might not be positive to someone else, you know, because everyone’s got their different interpretations of like, what’s good, what’s bad, what to hope for, what to fear. And yeah, again, with expressing myself, there has to be some sort of trust that, you know, this form of self expression will do something positive, either for me or whoever the audience is. 

 

Maybe there’s no audience, but if I’m creating something, there’s some hope, there’s some trust that it will be realized. And I think having that faith of looking at previous creations or current creations or hoping for the future, you know, I have this faith looking back of all the things I have created, and be like, Oh, I can keep doing more. Look at what’s behind me. I can keep, I can keep doing more. Yeah, so that’s not a concern. Well, that’s a very concise answer. But yeah, I think, I think it opens up all these, all these things. I think hope is not just one, one thing is connected to all these other all these other aspects

 

Nailah:  

Totally and, like, I love that you brought up trust and faith as being kind of tethered to hope. Because I think all of those things are required together to make it happen. Because you do have to have that, like, bit of faith and trust to, like, really make hope kind of stick, if you will.

 

Zoe:  

Yeah, that’s, that’s and even thinking about, I think faith can, I think sometimes faith gets connected to religious thought a lot. But, you know, trying to think of what, what is the difference? What is even, looking at myself, I’m like, What even is the difference? And seemingly, seemingly, some, some people say it’s more related to the past. So it’s like, faith is based on, I don’t know, the past, and hope is more looking forward. And yes, I think that’s you can’t just single, single one out they are, they are all connected. They all build, built upon each other.

 

Nailah:  

Yeah, and then I guess what I’m gathering, or what I’m feeling from this, you know, what you shared is that like faith is the other side of hope, because faith in the creative practice is knowing that you have been in that place before, and you’ve been able to achieve some goal or something, or it’s been generative in some way for you in the past. And that’s what’s kind of informing that hope that you know you’ll get a similar or even better outcome with your creative practice, whatever you intend to do going forward.

 

Zoe:  

Yeah, definitely. And I think not time we usually get this topic and start thinking of the negative the flip side, yeah, I think if you break someone’s faith, or if your own faith is broken, again, thinking of hope is kind of, at least for me, like this kind of bouncy ball that bounces up and down as things happen in The world or within yourself. If your faith is broken, you know, where can the hope come from? Where can the hope bounce off of think once you know, trust is gone. Faith is gone. Hope can just fall, fall downwards. What is it supposed to you know, be grounded. Be grounded in, yeah.

 

Nailah:

 

That’s interesting. Well, speaking of creative practices, you’ve worked with us before on solo journaling games, and so I wanted to know if you could talk a little bit about the possible ways that games, like social journaling games, could be used as a form of world building.

 

Zoe:

So um, regarding, like the um solo journaling games, that’s kind of like a sub genre of table top and role playing games. So like TT RPGs, or, yeah, like tabletop are RPGs and and those are all about world building, like that is the essence of of that genre of game. And, for example, like the, I don’t want to say the most, I guess the most well known, like tabletop role playing game would be like Dungeons and Dragons. But there’s so so many, and there’s so many, like micro genres or genres within that but that type of world building and that type of storytelling is a collaborative process, because you’ve got a combination of whoever’s designed the systems, the rule set, who’s designed the game. You’ve got the players, and then you’ve also got, like the GM, like the game master, who is there to, you know, I don’t want to say, enforce the rules, but make sure that the game is being played. I don’t even want to say properly, but it’s this, this combination of like three, yeah, these three parts, like the players, the game itself, which has been designed and like the Game Master, the GM, the world building is a collaborative process between these three, three elements. 

 

Whereas writing can be so much seen as a solo practice, like storytelling and writing can be collaborative. I think it’s seen, or usually thought of as a solo, solo practice and solo journaling games, again, it’s a way to do this worldbuilding, to kind of play a game by yourself, if you are by yourself, or you just want to practice something, you could even create something in a solo journaling game that you then bring if you’re meeting up with other other players, and also if people want to learn more about this, because I’ve just kind of give like, a description. 

 

If you like, went online to be like the heck, as we talked about, you can look up journaling games on the website, like h.io like it C, h.io and there’s lots you can, like, go down a wormhole to find, find more of these, these things. So in terms of using them for worldbuilding, yeah, I feel like it’s, it’s an example of something that’s came from a type of genre which is all about world building. So, yeah, does that answer your question?

 

Nailah:

It seems like I’m not the biggest game play person. I don’t really know why we were, like, a monopoly family and like, I never got the memo that you just cheat. That was not an Axum in my like family, and it was only until I started playing with other people. They’re like, Oh, you don’t cheat, because that’s the only way to win. So they say so. They say, so. I’ve never used really any games as such. I’m using word crawls. Those are fun. 

 

So it’s kind of a sub-question. I’m a writer. I’ve never done any gaming. I’ve never used games in my creative writing practice. Like, where would you what’s the best way to get started, or the most, like, accessible way to get started? 

 

Zoe:

I think to, um, yeah. Also, also mention, I studied games. I studied video games at university. My undergraduate degree, I’m like, Oh, don’t mention University, I guess I should. I studied at Abertay University in Scotland, which is, yeah, really well known for, for game development, game design. And I did, what was it Game Design and Production Management, that was that was my degree, not not writing, not art. So I think that’s why games, and I guess the potential for games is just kind of second, second nature to me, because I was so much reading, like I always grew up reading, but knowing that there was a whole world of storytelling and world building and just, yeah, interaction and fantasy that can come out of, like digital games and tabletop games, I think I was just exposed to that in A really deep way, really early, and also something to think of, like I was mentioning, like Dungeons and Dragons and going to some website, I think, think of the soul journaling games that I’ve referred to. 

 

It’s basically just a really intricate and well designed list of writing prompts. So even as a writer, or say you’re facilitating a workshop, and you go online and say, you know writing prompts for a character or a setting, or to get a blog started, or get a short piece of fiction writing, or even, like a prompt for a poem, imagine, Like a solo journaling game is just really intricate prompts, where it’s like a maze of prompts, almost, and you’re like, using chance, you’re using, like a dice roll. You’re using some sort of randomization to determine which direction you’ll go. 

 

So I think to you know how to get started, if you wanted to explore these types of games to inform your writing practice, is kind of ask yourself, do you usually use prompts? Do you usually use prompts for your writing, and how much do you allow them to influence you and like, what would happen if you almost gave these grumps this game like even more influence and more control if you gave, if you like, kind of handed over use the word responsibility, but just kind of allowed these prompts to lead you even, even more, and then you’re kind of tapping into like, different parts of like a creative process. You’re just trying something different. See it as a kind of experiment, yeah, but yeah, if you kind of even just like, go on Google and be like, so journaling, games and go explore and see it as a creative exercise, and then just see what works with you and what doesn’t. But yeah, they’re basically like really advanced writing prompts

 

Nailah:

That sounds interesting too, because, you know, we come with our like favourite genres and and like tropes and motifs that we bring to our writing. Like, I love a haunted house. You could never tell me not to write about a haunted house, but I imagine working with something that’s a bit more random does help you shed some of those like comfort pieces and or a certain level of comfortability, because you don’t know where you’re going to go. And I think that also can help with like making worlds maybe more generative, because you’re not trying to recreate something necessarily that you’ve already created. So it sounds like gameplay could be a really interesting avenue for people, especially if they’re viewed as writing prompts. 

 

So that’s very interesting, and this kind of leads into my next question. You’ve alluded to it a little bit, but what do games games offer to writers for imagining new worlds that maybe other methods don’t I know you’ve said it’s akin to writing prompts, but I think there is, there can be something sort of generic about your basic writing prompts that may be like interacting with, like a rule of dye or DIY MFA has like a prompt generator that has, like a photo and a word and something else, and then it generates a prompt. There’s lots of different approaches to this, but yeah, what do, what would you say that games can potentially offer writers who are trying to build, maybe worlds we haven’t seen yet, or improve upon worlds that we’ve already seen in their writing?

 

Zoe:

 

I think the main thing with games is it offers these elements you already mentioned, like chance, and I also mentioned it, mentioned it too, like, there’s the randomization, the role of the die, the Yeah, this, this element of chance, and also our rule set and the rule set can be completely arbitrary, like outside of the setting, but just making a commitment to the rules. It’s almost yeah, like kind of getting you out of your own head, getting you out of your comfort zones. 

 

And sometimes you’ll do something because you’re following the rules and you’re not following an inner voice, which might be positive or negative, by following some sort of rule set. And I’m trying to think of an example of like a rule, like the rule in and of itself, could be I’m going to follow the outcome of these die rules. Die rules, no map, matter what, and just that commitment of following the the rules that kind of are already like pre-planned, like commit into a pre-planned process, I can be quite interesting what, what comes, comes out of that, because, as I kind of alluded to before, instead of the writer choosing or making the decisions by leaving it up to chance. Think it does allow like different muscles in your imagination and your like creative toolbox to, you know, just, play and explore. 

 

Um, so, so you mentioned a haunted house. I love that. I love just like hopping off other people’s suggestions, but say, um, for establishing a scene. Um, you’ve, you’ve got, okay, you’re going to have a haunted house, but then there’s going to be, like, different parts of the house, and you’re like, Okay, there’s the foyer, there’s the kitchen, there’s a living room, there’s the spooky attic, there’s a spooky basement, there’s outside. And you just roll a die to decide, okay, where, where is going to be, where are we going to begin, and we’re going to roll the die and where, where is the main part of the story going to happen and where is it going to conclude? 

 

And even just deciding those settings might just put push you out of your comfort zone, because maybe you’d already had some sort of idea in your head of like, it’s a kitchen murder mystery, and there’s a, you know, poison potion or something, something, and they have to go to the kitchen, and it’s like, well, what if, what if the kitchen doesn’t show up, and all of a sudden, you’re in the garden? Oh, maybe they collect ingredients from the garden, when all these things that just, you know, come up from those simple Well, yeah, I think it’s kind of kind of simple, and it’s yeah, just just a way to explore. Yeah, just a way to explore. So I think that’s what games can bring, this like element of chance and just committing to the rules and kind of giving parts of your brain an array so that other parts of your brain’s imagination can kind of come alive.

 

Nailah

 

Yeah, and I think speaking from perspective of this conversation is about speculative genres and someone who writes horror, you typically go into whatever you’re working on, knowing that there are expected conventions, knowing your canon. And so it seems like gameplay could be great for genre writers to kind of subvert expectations. Because I do think you have, well, I shouldn’t say everybody, but there is a tendency that I have observed where we tend to know our canon so well, and maybe we, you know, we want to nod to that canon and the rules, but removing some of those conventions and rules and leaving it to chance might actually help you subvert what’s expected, which happens in, you know, world building, speculative world building in general, especially if we’re trying to reimagine different worlds and realities and ideally a more just and inclusive world or world. 

 

I think gameplay does offer, particularly writers in the speculative genre, just like more, as you said, space to kind of play, but also giving you permission to let go of some of those genre conventions and, like, more established rules. So that’s really interesting, awesome. So speaking of even more world building, how does world building help shape what’s possible in the future? This could be just you know, what you’ve read or anything that you either have brought to your writing or want to bring to your writing. 

 

Zoe:

I say world building is like a form of imagining, and like everything around us, like past, present and future, has come from someone’s imagination, but it’s probably came from someone’s imagination that has, like, more power or influence. So and also so often, like our own thinking and imagining is influenced by someone or something that has more power and influence. I’m using the word ‘influence’ over and over and over, but I think it summarizes it so well, like we think things and we don’t even realize how much they’re influenced by things external to us, so I think worldbuilding is a good way of practicing to use our imagination so that when we do have the opportunity to influence we’ve we’ve already practiced. 

 

So say, for example, and I want to, I’m talking like, really generally, because I think these things, you know, Go beyond writing like I’m talking about the practicalities of how people are living your how people are living their lives, how we are living our lives, because whether it’s through writing or our daily practices or how we just navigate through the world, that’s what influences the present moment and the future. So yeah, like it’s in reference to writing, but it’s also in reference to absolutely everything that we do and say. For example, you have the opportunity to say, decorate your house or something. You a lot of people’s first instinct will just do what their neighbors are doing, what they saw in a magazine, what they saw on Instagram, TikTok, yada yada yada, which just creates the same thing over and over and over and even if you say, practice setting design, World, world design, your home is your own world. 

 

Even if you practice, you know, just playing around with design as a designer, even that practice is also influenced by so many things around us. I was even thinking to myself of The Sims game, which is, oh, how to even describe the video game Sims? It’s like, it’s also world building. It’s also, it’s also, yeah, like, um, a simulation of the real world. But that simulation was designed like by white men. And even the wallpaper that you choose, or the carpets that you choose, or the furniture that you choose, is very normative, in the sense of, I don’t know, capitalistic, like white, Western, patriarchal, yada yada, yada yada. So yeah, worldbuilding is a way to practice imagining. And I think we don’t realize how much our imagination has been influenced by all these external factors. So yeah, and again, my example was a bit like big in left field, but say, for example, someone who has spent years designing their dream house, and it’s not been influenced by Instagram, TikTok magazines, and they’ve been playing it in The Sims for years, their dream home, it’s still influenced by this, like, western perspective, you know, the designers of that game still created the boundaries, you know. And I think, yeah, I think it’s really important to realize how much our imagination is actually limited, which is quite scary. So maybe we can push those boundaries further by practicing within world building, yeah, yeah. It’s not. It’s not. It’s like baby steps. I see it as a baby steps, because actually having to really imagine things dramatically different, differently. It is, it’s huge. It really is huge. So I’ll say we just have to practice so that when there’s opportunity to make change, we’re ready for it, and we’re not just recreating what’s already there.

 

Nailah:

 

Totally. And your example actually of both the Sims and home design actually had me thinking of something I saw. It was a [Instagram] reel about a woman who, bless the commenter, decided to come for her home decor because it’s very ‘80s esthetic. That’s her jam. She loves 80s, and much of what she purchases is thrifted, because, you know, there’s not, you know, a big box 80s store. And so I also think, related to your point, your points, which is that, like faith, also requires the past, so there is a looking to the past, um, to create her world, and also by thrifting, by not falling to the narrative that everything needs to be new, or this, like beige esthetic, um, she can create the kind of world that she wants to be in, and still, in many ways, kind of reject a lot of these capitalistic notions. 

 

But also that required her to unlearn this notion that, you know, everything needs to, you know, not only be new, but it has to be new in terms of being purchased, but new, as in, it has to be of this era to be appealing, to kind of shape her world. So that’s just, yeah, I don’t know why it made me think of that, but I think that’s definitely true that like imagination is also not always like about new potentially could be bringing things from the past that did work, whether that’s for you as an individual or you know, on the wider scale. So that’s really interesting. So what do you want your writing to say about hope?

 

Zoe:

Hmm, for hope, I think it doesn’t. Hope doesn’t always need to be attached to positive expectations. Like, I feel like hope is always like, better, more things will be better. Things will be brighter, and, yeah, with hope it can, it can to be to do with change. And if I’m writing, say, if I’m doing quite a lot of like reflective writing, or just writing about my experiences, I think it’s really important to reflect about where you’re at now, and hope being more about change. 

 

Instead of things being better, things being more positive, it’s, it’s reflecting and saying, where am I at now and what I want to be different, what, what in my circumstances could be different? Or do I want to be different? And I think hope, yeah, thinking about hope and change, rather than hope. And because, because, if we I think we can, people can readers like, we can be set up for a lot of disappointment if we just focus on the positive and what’s good, what can be better. And if you’re just focusing on these like positives. If you look at your life right now and aren’t happy with it, it can just kind of pull you into despair, which is like the opposite of hope. So yeah, I know that sounds quite, quite vague, but I hope with my writing, it allows readers and people to check in, like, what do I have now and what, what needs to be changed? Because it might just be. It brings it more to the personal. Instead of just thinking, oh, these are, I’m thinking, you know, I especially mentioned like, social media, say, say, referring to like, yeah, the media and TikTok and Instagram. You can look at things and it’s all like, shiny, and it’s so far from the reality. So I think hope. 

 

What do I want my writing to how can it connect to hope? Think about what is the reality for your self, and I’m thinking so deeply about without this, because if your hope, if you’re hoping for something that’s really far from your own reality, it’s just going to lead you to disappointment. It’s just going to lead you to despair. And if you’re despairing and disappointed, it’s not going to lead to any change, positive, better, change in your life. So I hope that by like, if I’m right about my own personal experiences, it’s sharing a bit of my reality, so that readers, the audience, can look at their own reality and yeah, kind of give them a better perspective on what they’re hopeful for, bringing it, bringing it, bringing it back. 

 

So yeah, tapping into like, what’s your what’s your reality? Yeah, I hope, I hope my writing can allow people to check, to check in with their own reality, because I think so many things outside, like outside influences, distractions, that can pull people so far out of just reality, like in in I don’t know if we’ll even have time to touch upon it, but I think so much writing can lean into escapism. And I think that’s, I think that’s an important point that I want to touch, touch upon, this, this like balance between escapism and creating something that’s like so warm and comfy and delicious and positive and liberation that readers want to just live in that world and not deal with the world that they’re living in. So even though my answer might not be so exciting and click-baity and you know, gather a lot of attention, it’s like bringing people closer to their own reality can actually hopefully influence more change.

 

Nailah:

 

I think that’s an exciting answer. I think like letting folks know that they don’t necessarily need to spend all their time in imagined worlds, that there’s something closer to them that has a lot of possibilities is, I personally think, very hopeful. So we are new. We’d be gavid away. We are pretty much at time. I want to make sure folks can find you. I know you kind of have a limited social presence, but is there anywhere where people can follow you, support you, any links you want to call any attention to, some of the resources that Zoe shared will include in the show notes. But if there’s anything you want to call attention to, any books now’s your chance.

 

Zoe:

Um, yeah, I keep off social media. I’ve been keeping away from social media for like, a long time now, and sometimes I have a website. I usually don’t have a website. I used to have a newsletter. I don’t keep a newsletter anymore. I think it is still live, though, on Substack. So if you look on sub stack and I, I love to misspell my name, I love to it’s like an unofficial is it misnomer? So Zoe, la Remar, L, A R, I m, A R, like the crystal. La Remar, if you even know that crystal, you can find me on Substack and a major, major, major shout out, which can’t believe we’ve gotten to the end of this, this chat and not mentioned it. 

 

So a massive, humongous influence is the friends At The Table Podcast. They do collaborative worldbuilding, and they’ve been running games together and sharing it in audio form for, like must be over 10 years now. And their GM, their game master, Austin Walker, is a huge, hugely positive influence. And everything you’ve been talking about, or everything we’ve been talking about in all your lovely questions, you know, that’s what they’ve been doing. They’ve been worldbuilding and trying to create liberatory futures. How  to just show and share different forms of inclusion. They’ve been doing that for, yeah, must be over a decade now, and if you want to, yeah. Oh, and I recommend, I love their horror season, um, Song failed from 2022 by friends at the table. Um, that’s my favorite season because they’ve been going for almost 10 years. It’s like when you recommend an author and you say, oh, you should read, um, you know, I used to read a lot of Margaret Atwood books. Does she have? You know, where do you, where to start? So I would recommend visiting the friends at the table podcast and checking out their horror season Sangfielle from 2022 was a perfect example of speculative fiction for liberatory futures, and they use, you know, these tabletop RPGs that you know we mentioned earlier.

 

Nailah:

 

Awesome. Well, thank you so much for being in our series. This was such a great chat. And yay. Um, I guess that’s it. 

 

 

In this episode, we talk about how games can help writers subvert expectations and explore new worlds by leaving familiar conventions behind. We’re joined by Zoe Lorimer who will be sharing her experience using games in her creative practice.

Zoe Lorimer (she/her) is a Black-Scottish freelance writer and creative from Edinburgh. Passionate about social well-being and racially-marginalised communities, her work is informed by eight years of working in South Korea, Taiwan and Australia. Zoe’s writing has been published in Roots and Rebellion: Personal Stories of Resisting Racism and Reclaiming Identity and featured internationally by Black Ballad, Ketagalan Media and The News Lens.

In this episode

  • Faith, trust, and hope in creative practice
  • Worldbuilding and solo journaling games
  • Games as writing prompts and creative exploration
  • Worldbuilding and imagination
  • Hope in writing and personal reflection

Links

Worldbuilding and Radical (Re)Imaginings featuring Arianne Maki

Thumbnail image of Arianne Maki. There are SBWN and Book Week Scotland logos in the top left. Text: Interview. Arianne Maki. Futures and freedom audio series.

Nailah King: 

On today’s episode of futures and freedom, writing hope in a dystopia, an audio interview series. We’re talking with Arianne Maki, dredged from the bogs of Scotland and England. Arianne Maki is a mixed Indonesian, Japanese, fabulous and facilitator they build touchy feely, multi species worlds to explore various queer and diasporic dimensions in a realm that seeks to flatten their writing has been shortlisted for the SI leeds prize, the future worlds prize and penguins right now. Program, welcome.

Arianne Maki

Thank you for having me.

Nailah:

 

Yeah, I’m so excited to get into this discussion. So we’ll kick things off because book week, Scotland’s theme this year is all around hope. How do you define hope as it relates to your creative practice?

 

Arianne

Well, I think hope really underlines everything that I do, and especially in my writing. I know that, you know, think for all writers, all artists, really hope is kind of why we do it. You know, art is all about not just building a little piece of survival for yourself and others, but also about going beyond that and really like embodying other ways of being outside of all these horrible things that are existing in the worlds that shape our reality. So in a nutshell, that is how I would say it depends my mind for sure.

 

Nailah:

I love that, and I do think that is a draw for some folks as to you know what brings them to writing. So can you talk a little bit about the relationships between the environment and the natural world and Southeast Asian settings in your work?

 

Arianne:

 

Yeah, definitely, definitely. So if I can take that back just a little bit, the way that I think about the environment and Southeast Asian settings in my work has always refracted through, first of all, a queer lens, and then secondly, a diasporic lens. And what I mean by that is it’s all about fluidity and interrogating the categories that you know, have been imposed upon so many things by certain world views and certain legacies. So I think that there’s been a lot about, you know, like queerness versus like representation, for example. 

And for me, it’s about moving beyond, you know, putting in a gay person and making it queer by actually interrogating the categories that we use to, you know, relate to one another. And so when I think about the environment, and when I think about Southeast Asian Ness as as a half Indonesian that was born and raised in the UK, my experience that has always been to understand that, you know, while some people might see me as, quote, unquote, this, and that I have my own very unique experience of being Indonesian, and the same thing when I think about plants and animals, we have very boxed in ways about thinking thinking about animals and plants. 

 

And what I really want to do is just kind of undo that and see, well, why do we think about things in that way? Why can’t things be more fluid? Why can’t we investigate new ways of being and hybrid ways of being, and things that take little bits from here and there, and I think fundamentally as well. Things are imperfect, so things that don’t, you know, obey the rules that we usually use. So, yeah, I think that, you know, that’s really when I think about Southeast Asian as the environment. 

It’s all just about undoing the boxes, breaking down the categories, and seeing what is really there, and seeing how we might move from that unknown into new ways of being, accepting that we might not be quote, unquote perfect, we might not be static, but we’re alive and we’re moving, and we’re always changing. So, yeah, I think I don’t know if that makes sense, because that’s very it’s, you know, you got a topic that’s like, really, really close to your heart, and you do so much thinking about it, and then it kind of just goes into, like a motion in your head

 

Nailah:

That makes complete sense. And also, as you were talking, I think that’s like an another, kind of like form of hope, in a way, because you’re imagining different worlds and different there’s categories and structures that exist, but you’re kind of breaking things down and subverting them to see what else could exist. And that feels inherently hopeful, too. Yes,

 

Arianne:

Absolutely, I did my masters at Goldsmiths. And of course, it was ecology, but it was in the sociology department, and there was one module that was so, it was so moving to me. It was all about the politics and ethics of animals. It’s taught by Mary Fraser, and one feedback that she got from a previous student, it was, you know, we’ve kind of talked about the ways in which animals and humans and all living beings are categorized in a kind of Scala Naturae. It was a concept that was first brought about by Aristotle, and then it was kind of like, like different kinds of beings were ascribed value by Descartes. 

 

And then seeing how that has like, fundamentally structured so much of the ways in which we relate to each other as humans, but also animals and plants. You know, I mean even just the fact that in conservation, all the money goes towards charismatic animals like tigers and lions, but we don’t think about insects or bugs knowing that. 

 

You know, the ways in which our world has been structured has it comes from this legacy, all of these legacies, for so many centuries. Even though that does feel very like oppressive, because it is oppressive, it is also like, oh, but that’s something that was created that’s not necessarily something that is actually true, like it’s real, but it’s not true. And so if it’s not true, what other worlds can we build knowing that it’s not necessarily true. And you know, same kind of thing with, you know, like when I think about, like, anti-colonialism, when we acknowledge that there are all these worlds have been pushed upon us, and while they have real, tangible weight and real repercussions, and like, the kind of horrible colonial violences that we’re seeing all around us, they also are not ideologically true. You know, they’re just, they’re bullshit. 

 

So knowing that, knowing that there are other worlds that exist outside of these, like really intense systems, I think just even just having that knowledge, even though it’s so intangible, it could be an intangible foundation for something that is really tangible, and that is hope. 

 

Nailah:  

Really love that so, like, so beautiful. I, like, got chills there. Relatedly, you’ve alluded to it. But how do you use the speculative genre to explore more generative futures and challenge existing worlds, if there’s anything else you want to add? 

 

Arianne:  

 

Yeah, so I know that this question comes up a lot, I think, with a lot of like, speculative fiction writers, and one thing that is always talked about is that ability to imagine, like, other worlds and other possibilities, and that is so, so beautiful and so valid. And I definitely want to uplift that, because it’s really one of the gifts of the genre. I think one of the things that is less talked about, though, is the ability to process like really immense grief and trauma. 

 

I think that speculative fiction has, it gives you a kind of grace that you might not get in other forms of fiction, because it has these really beautiful imaginative dimensions to you know, you could be a wizard. You could be like, on a different solar system or something like that. But because you have all that space, you can kind of enter in sideways, and you can look at feelings that are otherwise just like too difficult and too real, and you can begin to process them. 

 

So for me, that is a really, yeah, that’s really how I personally use speculative fiction in my own writing, to really just grapple with those things. I think that for me, my most favourite artworks are always grief work. And I see my role as a writer actually, fundamentally as a grief worker. And so, yeah, it’s really important to me to address grief, because on the other side of grief, it’s joy and it’s hope, and maybe not even necessarily the other side, because I think that they’re actually, rather than being like, you know, opposed, they’re actually just the same thing. It’s just two sides of the same coin as what I’m trying to say.

 

Nailah:

 

Totally I think that, like, that’s an astute observation that probably you need a little bit of both to be in one ecosystem. And I do think speculative, particularly horror actually does really lend itself to that as well. Like, I’m a big, always here fan of grief horror. I really am. Yeah, I’m really getting into it because it does allow the space to explore darker themes that are not necessarily traditional horror, but like Monstrilio, which is a great book. Yes, I will send you a list after this. We can post it in our show notes as well. But grief, horror really is kind of an example of what you’re already alluding to as well. And I’m sure there’s fantasy options as well, and folks that you’re probably thinking of too. But I do think like there is something that’s almost like a grieving process, as you kind of reflect on you know what the world is, and then move it to what it could be. So I think that’s like a really good observation for sure.

 

Arianne:

Um, so

 

Nailah:

You’ve alluded to it, but I just want to check in to see if there’s anything else you want to add now that it’s going to be asked a bit more explicitly, how does worldbuilding shape what’s possible in the future? And this can extend outside of fiction as well, but certainly within your writing or anything that you’ve read. 

 

Arianne

Yes, let us well, from a writer’s perspective world building is so entwined with history and the past. You know, I think especially when you’re writing things that are set in the future, whether that’s like, you know, fantastical futures, or sci-fi futures, or whatever, people kind of get hung up on, you know, this whole, like, futuristic element. 

 

But you can’t do that without looking at the past, about looking at the present and what’s around you. And so I think that, yeah, the most interesting part for me is always just seeing what has existed and what does exist, and then making those connections and pulling it all together in a big like web, or like a stew of different times and and worlds. And yeah, so I, I really think of it as a way of, like, building bridges, or, like, you know, sewing pieces together. And I think it’s so important, when we think about the future, to look at the past and look at what’s around us. So, yeah.

 

Nailah

Yeah. I think, like a lot of authors, like, second time she’s been mentioned today. Octavia Butler,

 

Arianne:  

Yeah, I was like, when is she gonna come up?

 

Nailah:

She’s probably made it to like, 15 minutes of this so, you know. And we were also talking about how she is a time traveler, because she even got the year right anyway, kind of looking to the past to build the future, especially because we do view, we do value new and like I do find sometimes that the tendency, not all, but in some fantasy, can be new, new, new, and not kind of looking towards the past. 

 

Which connects interestingly with your earlier point that you know some, a good a good number of communities you know before, like they had contact with these colonizers, had a very different like culture, like thriving lifestyle, all of that. So I think that would be a good nexus to kind of look at the past as a jumping off point for the future.

 

Arianne:

Definitely. 

 

Nailah

 

So how can we get radical, not just in the ‘90s way about depictions of the environment and climate conditions in fiction? You talked a little bit about climate and nature already, but.

 

Arianne:  

Yeah, I suppose for me, it’s just, you know, staying really curious, being open to all of the possibilities, and really just trying to remind yourself that we actually know nothing, and that is a good thing, you know, because that means that we’re open to receiving everything and anything that comes our way, you know, obviously within within limitations. But yeah, I think just being open to having your presumptions and your expectations completely erased, especially when we think about the environment, when we think about, you know, like multi species creatures, different kinds of ways of living and being different, time scales, ways of experiencing the world. 

 

There is so much that we can’t ever know, like none of us will ever know, what it’s actually like to be a tree or to be a bird. And I think that that is so exciting. You know? I think just, even just the possibility of being a tree for one day, I did. I just imagining that, I think opens up so many different realms and yeah, I yeah, I just yeah. I think it’s amazing, really, yeah. That was a bit of the that was a bit of the harder questions, but

 

Nailah:  

I think you answered well, and then I have a book for you. It’s called The Canopy Keepers, but it sounds like staying curious, and the act of curiosity is almost like a form of worldbuilding itself. If you were talking to another writer who wanted to get curious about climate and their fiction. What are the ways that you might suggest that they explore that?

 

Arianne:  

 

Well, I think it depends on what they want to look at within climate, because it’s just such a big, sprawling topic. But definitely just to know, I feel like all writers are doing like research, probably too much research, right? I think we all get stuck in research holes, but yeah, just finding out what you can and knowing that you know, there’s probably someone that has written, like, a really dense academic book on it, but it’s well worth it. 

 

And, yeah, I guess just reading, I mean, there’s reading widely, not just like, you know, academic books, but also fiction, different kinds of fiction, memoir, yeah, I think my main thing would just be to read all different kinds of things, and also not just reading, but engaging with all different forms of art, and also just opening your senses. That’s a really, really big one. And I think especially as writers, we do put, obviously, we’ve put a lot of onus on the written words and just in words in general, but living life through our senses can be such an informative resource. 

 

You know, I recently started like trying to really hone in on my sense of smell. And just like walking down the street and trying to smell more things and thinking, because there’s so many different animals that live primarily through their smell instead of like their sight, like humans, like dogs, for example, they live their life through smell. And you know, knowing that we’ll never be able to know exactly what it’s like again to be a dog or whatever, but just trying to shift your experience, even just a little bit, even if it’s just to know that there’s so much that you don’t know can really help you engage with other non human experiences. 

 

And then I think when we think about climate change and environment, we can’t do that without thinking about non-human experiences. And we also can’t do that as well, but thinking about different ways in which different peoples have experienced climate change and climate oppression. So, you know, it kind of goes hand to hand, like doing the research, and, you know, reaching out to people in your communities as well, as well as, like, trying to live through your senses in different ways. So just really, just widen your perspective in loads of different kinds of, yeah, just different manners, really. So I would say that’s how I do it, but then I’m me, so maybe something else would work for someone else. But, yeah.

 

Nailah

 

That’s a good think those are good methods, because I do think we tend to words, going to a book or the internet, but I think just getting out there in nature, and yeah, maybe taking what you’re seeing or what you’re smelling, or probably would kind of help you build that deeper connection, like you’re saying, Yeah, absolutely.

 

Arianne:

And it can be, you know, this, I think everything that we do is so linked to climate and environment and like non-humans, but we just because we do it all the time, we don’t think about it like something that I try and do sometimes is, like, if I’m eating something, everything on our plate has died, you know. And I’m not trying to be depressing now, but like, just, it’s true. I think thinking about that, looking at it like, when you’re eating your broccoli or your pasta or your bacon or whatever, really, just grappling with that, actually, like that was alive, that probably was transported from, like, a different country, across an ocean, and then you start to think about, well, this is like some kind of life form, and it probably is completely different to any kind of life that we’ve experienced. 

 

And then there’s also all the supply chains, the production processes and everything. And you begin to realize how complex the most everyday basic thing is and how interrelated everything is, you know, climate is in everything that we do all the time, and really is, again, just kind of shifting from this very like, you know, our everyday perspective and widening that to include, you know, just non-humans, other humans, the cultural legacies that have been put in place that now manifest in things like global supply chains and plastics and, you know, like shipping structures and everything like this. So, yeah.

 

Nailah

 

Yeah, that’s a good observation too, because I think we are a bit removed from, you know, how things get on our plate. So even just taking the time to kind of think about that is probably valuable for all sorts of reasons. 

 

But in terms of your process, or in terms of building your world, maybe there’s ways to subvert or bring light to that supply chain.

 

Arianne:

Yeah.

 

Nailah:  

 

Yeah. So you talked earlier about how your writing is ultimately about hope, and hopeful in that sense, what would you say? And I think this is extra relevant right now to fellow writers who may have lost hope, whether that’s in what they’re writing, or the kind of wider landscape,

 

Arianne:

I’d say, Yeah, I hear you, I feel you. It’s fucking hard, you know. And the main thing that immediately comes to mind is rest, rest and play. You know, sometimes we just need to remember to let ourselves rest. You can, if we’re able, you know, try and put on the phone and just get out there and play, especially when things are so awful and, you know, just really, really, like, inescapably horrible, if we have the resources too, if we have the space to if we can, you know, any kind of form of play, no matter how small it is, making a sentence, making yourself a nice meal, walking around for five minutes, calling a friend. It doesn’t need to be a marathon. 

 

We don’t need to build that hope and sustain it all the time, because that would be impossible. It’s just about finding carving out little pockets of hope here and there. And I think that is doable. I like to think that that’s doable, you know, so just rest play, reach out to your community if you can, if you have community, and if you don’t have community, like it will come to you. It will when, you know, I really do believe that when we have the resources, and when we’re able to community always comes. So yeah, but I think the main things rest and play. We’re too hard on ourselves as writers, I think, and just being able to take the space for ourselves, I think, is really important, taking the space not in a hyper capitalist, hyper individualist way, but in a way that really is compassionate to ourselves and therefore to others. You know,

 

Arianne

Solid advice.

 

Nailah

So again, because you are so just like giving us all the goods. But again, I want to check in to make sure we didn’t miss anything. How can speculative fiction kind of galvanize readers to think about new, liberatory or inclusive futures? You’ve mentioned play and just kind of heightening one’s awareness to what’s around them. But was there any other ways that the genre could, I don’t say, do better, but, you know, engage people in different ways to do that, thinking like it’s not on their own, but like, in addition to what they’re reading. 

 

Arianne:

Not really sure if I would add anything to that, really, I guess I think, you know, in my own work, the way that I approach it, the way that I do it, it really is all about matching play and grief work. You know, finding the joy and the lightness in the heaviest of places, because it is always there. I wrote a newsletter about spirals, actually, that spoke a lot about about that, you know, seeing these kind of like cosmic, huge symbols as actually ways for us to remind ourselves that we always have choice. And I think that there’s something you know, spirals are magical and they’re cosmic and speculative fiction is often cosmic and magical, you know, and I guess it’s just using that other worldly sense of of excitement and mystery, or whatever it is that you’re making in your work. 

 

And I’m recognizing that in that other worldliness, we have so much like possibility to play around with things and to see that, you know, we do have the choice to actually grip the lightness of being in even the heaviest of places. We always have choice. We always have other worlds within us, even when it feels like we don’t, even if it’s just deep within us, they do exist.

 

Nailah:  

Love that we always have other worlds within us, deep stuff.

 

Arianne:  

Just like coming from my subconscious.

 

Nailah:  

I guess that means I wrote a decent question or two, one sort of final question here. Actually, I’m going to pivot because we’ve brought up many a book. So are there any books that you think are sort of at maybe the 101, level, or must reads for people kind of engaging in this work, whether that’s they’ve been writing for a few years, or this is their first kind of get the genre

 

Arianne:  

Like, about hope specifically, or or speculative fiction more generally, both.

 

Nailah:

Actually, I think because you did, you did mention, and you are correct, that there is a level, a thread of hope in this genre in general, so I think, yeah, hope, but also the speculative genre, yeah,

 

Arianne:

Well, I guess, you know, Octavia Butler, obviously, always comes to mind. Are we going to pay our dues? And then I think Becky Chambers is Monk and Robot is always kind of quoted. Is like the hope punk, you know, like flagship books. So that’s also somewhere that I would point to a more, I don’t know if I would call her niche, but a book that, um, me, like so many of my future worlds, cohort, like really all love is, have you read so few Samatar as A Stranger in Olondria?

 

Arianne:

No, no. It’s

 

Arianne:

it’s amazing. It’s definitely, it’s like a very like writerly book. It’s every single sentence she has is like pure poetry. And that book, I think it, while not necessarily, like very overtly about hope, it is just such a is such a beautiful book, and like every sentence, is crafted with so much tenderness and care and grace. And when I think about hope, I think about tenderness and grace. You know, because when we hope for things, we’re allowing ourselves to dream, and if we’re allowing ourselves to dream, we’re often giving ourselves the tenderness that we need to do it, because we can’t dream if we’re not treating ourselves with kindness. And yeah, and Sofia samatha’s book, there’s just so much about it. So yeah, oh my god, it’s actually, I think maybe the most beautiful book I will ever read in my lifetime. So that’s my strong recommendation.

 

Nailah:

Love that. That’s a good one. I’ll have to get the link from you, and we’ll have to update the book list, because I know I also mentioned a couple of books that folks might want to check out. But yes, we have to give reference to Octavia, of course, not only as a futurist, but for her time traveling abilities, yeah. Well, thank you so much. I’ve loved this discussion. Um, where can folks find you? Where can they buy your stuff, buy your books? Support you. Um, let us know how we can do that.

 

Arianne:

Yeah. So for now, people can find me. I must just use Instagram. Arianne, full stop, Mackie. And then I’ve got a newsletter right now where they can keep up to date with things that I’m doing and any right news that I have. It’s Arianne Maki, dot beehive, like, B, E, E, h, i, i v.com,

 

Nailah:

Thanks so much. This was great.

 

Content warning: episode contains brief swearing

In this episode, we talk about the importance of undoing boxes and categories to explore new ways of being. I’m joined by Arianne Maki who will be sharing how they explore the connection between grief and hope in their writing.

Dredged from the bogs of Scotland and England, Arianne Maki is a mixed Indonesian-Japanese fabulist and facilitator. They build touchy-feely, multi-species worlds to explore various queer and diasporic dimensions in a realm that seeks to flatten. Their writing has been shortlisted for the SI Leeds Prize, the Future Worlds Prize, and Penguin’s WriteNow programme. Instagram @arianne.maki and Bumi 色々 ariannemaki.beehiiv.com

In this episode

  • Defining hope and creative practice
  • Exploring the speculative genre and grief
  • Worldbuilding and radical possibilities
  • Maintaining hope and community support

Books mentioned

The links included in this episode use our Bookshop.org affiliate link. As a bookshop.org affiliate, we earn 10% on sales. By using our affiliate link to buy any books you help support us and all funds earned go towards supporting our mission.

Teasing Out the Extremes: Dystopias of Absurdity featuring Chris Lau Manson

Thumbnail image of Chris Lau Manson. There are SBWN and Book Week Scotland logos in the top left. Text: Interview. Chris Lau Manson. Futures and freedom audio series.

Kelly Kanayama:

Hi, and welcome to the Scottish BPOC Writers Network’s Book Week Scotland event. This is the second of our audio recordings, and I’m here with Chris Lau Manson. I’m Kelly Kanayama, the editorial and Events Manager for SBWN, and Chris is a comics creator. Chris is a mixed Scottish Chinese artist and writer based near Glasgow, originally from Hong Kong. Chris draws on his twin heritages to tell speculative fiction stories that explore how tradition can empower us and how traditionalism can hold us back. He mainly works in comics, but also illustrates and writes and performs in comedy theatre. So great to have you with us. So first question, how do you define hope as it relates to your creative practice?

Chris Lau Manson:

So first of all, thank you very much for talking with me. Always happy to discuss everything creative, particularly writing and hope. In kind of my creative practice really comes down to envisioning a better future and understanding the even, even though there are things that may hold us back, either in reality or in the the features that we’re imagining, there’s still ways for us to to have that to make something better, to kind of minimize the setbacks or the suffering that we either experience in reality or that we our characters may experience. It’s allowing space for kindness and a certain amount of subversion as well. 

I like, I like a little bit of subversion, particularly where we see a lot of kind of power structures trying to control people, and that often gets reflected in fiction, particularly speculative fiction, science fiction, in fantasy as well, there’s always well established hierarchies that are trying to make people do what a smaller group of other people want to do. And I think it’s vital that we, we kind of undermine that a little bit by showing that no, we can take control of our own lives and we can show kindness and caring to each other, even when everything is telling us, no, you’ve got to be hardened and you’ve got to be, you know, strict. You’ve got to conform.

Kelly:

Yeah, absolutely, definitely agree. And on the back of that, how do you use speculative fiction and the speculative genre to explore more generative features, and, as you touched on, challenge the existing world that we find ourselves beset by so often?

 

Chris:

 

Speculative fiction has a rich history of being used to analyze the current social, political standings and think of how things might be different. The big, kind of obvious one is like Star Trek, Roddenberry was an optimist. He was, I don’t know if he specifically was a socialist, but a lot of socialist themes crop up through the various Star Trek iterations. The works of William Gibson were, when they were originally written, were a kind of glimpse into a future that was controlled by technology. I strongly suspect that every week, he wakes up and goes, Oh, no, what have I done? And there’s a kind of more modern example, Rhianna Pratchett, who does a lot of video game writing. I picked up a copy of her Mirror’s Edge comic book, which was a tie-in to the video game. The comic book does a really good job of analyzing what I think is is quite common, but not It’s not bombastic, it’s not a kind of in your face thing, but a lot of people are willing to compromise quite a lot to have comfort, to have stability, even if that means giving up their kind of individuality.

 

So you know, there’s a really rich history of analyzing where we are by kind of teasing out the extremes, or taking things to their logical conclusions and picking them up and turning them around and going, Well, how did we get here? And, you know, how, how did we arrive at this point in this fictional world from where we are in the real world, and that’s kind of something that I take in my own work. I’m sort of blending speculative fiction with aspects of magical realism as well, where there are unusual things happening, but for the characters in the stories there, they don’t feel so unusual. And kind of since 2020 that feels more and more on the nose, where, sure, these sweeping changes, these major kind of social upheavals, that we’re still expected to go into work on Monday and just kind of like carry on as if everything’s quite normal when it quite clearly isn’t.

 

Kelly:

 

Right. And you see this inside this, because it makes me think, as many things do, of Judge Dredd where, especially in the earlier strips, where kind of something incredibly outlandish was happening every week, and then the, you know, the Judges and most of the citizens were just, their attitude is just another one. You know, it’s another, another guy just basically became catatonic because he couldn’t handle living in the future. We gotta go deal with this. Because it’s Tuesday. 

 

Chris:

 

Yeah, and it sounds absurd, because the world that we live in is hurtling towards an absurd singularity quite, quite a rate, and kind of exaggerating the more absurd characteristics, and saying to people, yeah, by the way, this is weird. Do you want to take a look at this? This is odd. You know, doing this in story form. It allows us to do this safely. It’s kind of like I’ve written down very specifically, was the phrase I’ve written down, a philosophical laboratory, which is way too highfalutin for me, but it’s a good concept, and the stories and narrative allow us to examine these things in a couple of the comics that I’ve done, I’ve tried to do this as well. It’s satirical. I will, I will often describe it as satire, but it really is just taking these ideas and going, yeah, look at this. 

 

There’s a bit where in my comic Bad Gal Bodega, the baddie in that is this blob monster who’s woken up from a million years of slumber, and he wants everything to go back to the way it was. You know, when he remembers it in the good old days, despite the fact that those good old days were full of volcanoes and fire and brimstone, which is no good for anyone.

 

Kelly:

 

Right? And it keeps on. They were tough back then, you know. 

 

Chris:

Yeah, and you can, you’ve obviously latched on to the point that I was making. It can be quite obvious, even though, you know, the premise is ludicrous. He is this green slime monster. But we see the patterns, and we can recognize, no, that is ridiculous. We can’t go back to the time of, you know, volcanoes and sulfur and brimstone, because that doesn’t work for everyone anymore. And when, when you’re able to get people to think along those lines, to to transpose? Well, yes, this is ridiculous. Let’s have a look at the original source of that.

 

 Well, that is actually quite ridiculous, expecting us to go back to times when, you know, people were more restricted in what they could and couldn’t do. When people were limited in what they could do just by virtue of who they were, that is ludicrous on the face of it, but we’re kind of expected to sort of accept that to an extent. So holding that up and and going, yeah, here’s a reflection of it. Here’s another angle on it. It’s still ridiculous, but maybe it’s easier to digest and easier for people to link those things kind of in their own heads. Yeah.

 

Kelly:

 

This is the way that speculative fiction allows you to take these ideas to the most absurd conclusions and to kind of just keep extrapolating and extrapolating until it becomes not unbelievable, but becomes beyond reality, yes, in a way that you know comes all the way back around the core of it. What do you feel that the comics medium offers that other forms of narrative don’t?

 

Chris:

 

So, I mean, the obvious thing is that comics is the perfect marriage of writing and visuals. It is the most obvious thing, but it’s something that that kind of gets overlooked by people outside of the medium, people who are working outside of the medium, but there’s so much that we can do. We can, the dialogue becomes part of the art. And the way that we place the dialogue in in our panels, the you know, the fonts that we use, the way that we break up the speech bubbles that has a huge impact on how we call attention to things, on how we make things emphasized or ironic, or we can sneak in so much subtext just in the way that the dialogue is handled. 

 

I also really enjoy the fact that there’s a very tight control over the pacing in comics that you really can’t get in any other medium. Each panel is its own unique moment of drama, and you can use that to heighten a message, you can use that to linger on something that you want the audience to pay particular attention to. And you know, there’s a difference between, say, comics like film, media or television, where you can do that same kind of lingering shot. But the real strength of comics is that you can allow your readers that moment to scrutinize a parallel to packet with detail so that they can do that kind of is a strong environmental storytelling method. It also allows you to focus in on something you want the reader to absorb, and that is the real strength of the of comics as a storytelling medium.

 

Kelly:

 

And I imagine for something like speculative fiction, especially in the context that we’re talking about that is particularly useful and particularly important that you don’t, you don’t want these things to be missed, but you don’t also don’t want to sort of box in the reader too much? 

 

Chris:

 

Yeah, you can, you can provide the extra information without cluttering things too much, because you can always go, it’s easier for somebody to go back through a comic book and get something more out of it by reading it again and again, again, similar in the way that you can do that with books or with film, but with comics, because each and again, I’ve given myself a very highfalutin concept here. I call them quantized dramatic moments panels. But they really are. 

 

You can have a panel last as long as you actually want. It can be a few seconds. It can be an entire minute. It depends on how you treat that within, within the artwork, within the pacing of the dialog. And you know, for speculative fiction, because we’re creating these new worlds, we’re creating these worlds that don’t exist. We can pack a lot of that, you know, the storytelling without explicitly telling the reader what we’re doing or what the characters are doing, where they come from. We can drop little hints in there. And, you know, it’s a very powerful thing to have the reader come to their those conclusions on their own, because, one, it makes them feel smart, because they enjoy feeling smart, but it also makes the message a lot more powerful when you can connect all those loose ends together and come to the same conclusion as the author had, or maybe your own conclusion that the author never intended, but you know, you’re still reading into it, there is complexity and depth in comics because of that marriage of dialogue and visual storytelling.

 

Kelly:

 

Yeah, well, in your conversation, you also, you know, you work a lot with speculative fiction, but you also base a lot of that in folklore, and, as you say, in tradition. And I was wondering, how do you think we can look to folklore to keep us going in terms of constructing and seeking liberatory futures, especially in comics or a visual narrative medium?

 

Chris:

 

Yeah. I mean, I’m mixed race, mixed culture. I am part of the diaspora. The strength that I find in folklore is it’s the same stories that, you know, my, the Chinese side of my family, or even the Scottish family, you know, I draw a lot from Scottish folklore as well, but they’re the same stories. They’re the same cultural experience. And, you know, I’m a firm proponent of, you know, I’m not half of each of me. I am all of me. But for me, connecting with the folk stories is important, kind of for my own identity, but for connecting with others as well and working it into my comic work, it kind of happens naturally. 

 

It’s something that that I find myself doing kind of quite without, without thinking about it too much, and I think it’s something that is becoming kind of more more commonplace, obviously, in kind of indie comics, which is a sphere I work in, it’s it’s quite common for creators to to connect with that in their work, because we feel strongly about it, and there’s little in the way of kind of editorial oversight that will stop us from doing that, but we see that happening in mainstream kind of comics and associated media as well. As no doubt you’ll be quite aware that Japan is quite good at doing that in manga. 

 

Kelly:

 

They can’t stop doing it. 

 

Chris:

 

But I really I admire that, like the so I’ve been trying for very long, a very long time, to find a kind of Chinese equivalent to Inuyasha, because I find the way that Japanese kind of media connects with that aspect of their kind of folklore and history isn’t really done in this to the same extent with modern Chinese media, we still have, you know, a lot of references to the Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

 

Kelly:

 

The period fantasy dramas. Yeah, my mother loves them.

 

Chris:

 

And I love that. I love that I feel like we could still do more kind of modernization with that fresh insights, kind of new twists. And I think that is happening now that we are seeing more exposure to kind of modern takes on Chinese mythology in kind of more popular culture. And I think that’s a good thing. And ultimately, at the end of the day, using folklore taps us into a shared narrative, and having that shared narrative puts us so much further along in a kind of common understanding, and it allows us to tell more complex stories. 

 

I mean, probably one of the biggest examples for kind of western culture is the Nordic myths. And people tend to understand, if you’re referencing kind of Nordic myths, which is part of my own heritage as well, what the Mansons are, are actually Danish or Norwegian, I think, in origin, and like, when you tap into those larger sagas, those stories, people kind of understand what you’re talking about, because, you know they’re they’re common characters, they’re common kind of story threads. And you can look at something and go, Oh, I kind of know what’s going to happen here with this particular character in this particular situation, and then the author can surprise you by doing something different, or can satisfy you by kind of following that thread but applying a more modern spin on it.

 

Kelly:

 

That too, in terms of talking about liberatory futures, that has the advantage of starting to get people to sort of start from that more collectivist viewpoint, doesn’t it? Yeah, when you because, as you say, it’s a shared narrative. It’s that shared experience and that shared knowledge.

 

Chris:

 

And it belongs to everyone from that culture. There’s nobody that can tell you you’re doing okay. There are people who will try and tell

 

But yeah, there will be, as with many things, there will be gatekeepers. But the thing is, whether you’re in that kind of cultural hegemony or not, you’re still part of that culture. So like by definition, whatever stories I tell are a continuation of that culture. Folk stories have been morphing and mutating for thousands of years. That’s kind of their deal. So why? Why can’t we insert, you know, more modern sensibilities on it? Why should we have this kind of conservative, traditionalist aspect to everything, where nothing changes? Because, one, that’s not realistic. And two, that’s not how anything has ever been. These stories have been evolving. You know, as long as human language has probably even before that. I’m willing to bet there is a way that people before language are somehow telling stories. But yeah, it belongs to everyone within that culture, and I think there’s very little people can realistically do to restrict that. And that is, you know, like you say, it’s, it’s very liberating. It’s, it’s empowering,

 

Kelly:

 

Yeah, absolutely. Well, I think you’ve answered some of this already, but I was wondering, how does, how do you feel the act of world building, specifically, whether that’s you know, it’s all out there on the page, or whether it’s you know, all sort of implicit. How does that help shape what’s possible in the future? 

 

Chris:

 

Which is something I hadn’t actually thought about until you kind of like, asked the question, but it’s something that I do often. Not too often, fortunately, but like, more often than I would like, I am asked, Why is this character Chinese? Why is this character, you know, this that or the next thing and like, well, because they are, I didn’t really think about it. 

 

A lot of characters are in my work are going to, by default, be Chinese or mixed Chinese, because that’s who I am, and every character [you] create embodies a little part of you, right? 

 

Kelly:

 

Sure, and aren’t a lot of people in real life Chinese?

 

Chris:

 

Yeah, yeah, statistically speaking. But I kind of realized what I was doing was a lot of the cast of characters that I create for my work reflect the friends that I have. They reflect the world that I live in. And again, like kind of, by definition, I’m going to have a very diverse kind of range of friends. And, you know, that’s not just ethnicity or culture. That’s, you know, neurodiversity, sexuality, you know, I’m an artist, I’m a comedian, I do music and theater. I have a really broad range of friends, and that forms the kind of baseline for me in my work, and so I put that into my world building, because the worlds I’m shaping are the worlds I want to see. 

 

And again, even kind of looking at a comic like F providence that I did with country press, which is quite cyberpunk. It’s got that kind of distant dystopian future ruled by wealth hoarding robots. But the people in the story, you know, they’re, they’re mostly working class. They are from all walks of life. One of my favorite panels is this marketplace that I based off various markets of questionable legality that I’d been in in Hong Kong, but they’re filled with everyone, like there are people from everywhere there, and again, Hong Kong probably a little more kind of homogenous now and kind of when I was going back there than than it may have been in the past, but I elected to take that kind of busy feeling, that sort of chaotic market feeling, and populated it with, you know, kind of the diversity of people that I know, because that’s what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to draw everyone identical, because to me, that’s dull, that’s really boring, but it’s also it reflects, you know, even, even in this imperfect future, I still want to see this. Yeah, there’s still problems for the characters to overcome. It’s still a terrible place to live, but we can still find little bits of hope in there. We can find little bits of, oh, this, you know, at least, this is, you know happening. This is better. They’re taking care of each other, that sort of idea, yeah. 

 

Kelly:

 

And you know, when you said you base them on your friends, or they’re inspired by your friends, it makes you think you know whose future is this, liberation for whom? And it, you know what I mean, what it sounds like to me is it’s not just liberation for you, it’s liberation for you and those around you, anyone you know, like anyone like them. 

 

And so these, these futures that you’re envisioning, of course, they’re in it. Because that’s, you know, that’s the whole point of imagining the liberation that they can be in it. They can be.

 

Chris:

 

Exactly. And, you know, there’s a, there’s a phrase that I’m very fond of, of using because I believe in it very strongly, is we will all succeed together. Because you can do everything on your own. It’s far too difficult, particularly, you know, we need to be able to rely on each other and to reach out and extend that helping hand to people who need it, and to not be afraid to reach out and grasp that hand when we need the assistance as well. 

 

A lot of the kind of politics I’ve involved in is very kind of smaller scale, community driven. I won’t go into the genesis of that too much here, but I genuinely think that is how we succeed in general, as whether it be culturally, industrially or globally, it’ll be because we looked after each other when, let’s say, the people who were supposed to be looking after us maybe didn’t. 

 

Kelly:

 

I think there’s a lot to be said for this, you know, for liberatory futures, focusing first and foremost on who is there, and how can we make sure that they are? How can we do our part to make sure that they are? 

 

Yeah, absolutely, I’m gonna combine, I know I said these to you as two different questions, but I’m gonna combine them into one, which is, what do you want your writing to say about hope? What else do you want it to say about hope? And also, what would you say to fellow writers and creators who have lost hope, whether that’s in terms of what they’re writing or just in the current landscape in general? 

 

Chris:

 

And again, fantastic questions, because it’s so easy for us to not think about hope or optimism when we’re writing. I think it’s something that I do naturally, without actively thinking about it. Because despite all my self deprecation, I am actually quite an optimistic person. I like to think that we continue working because there is something to be had at the end of it, something good for all of us. I think, you know, it’s important for us to realize that hope is not just an emotion or an abstract concept. It’s a target. It’s something to aim for. It’s something to keep us going. Because if we have, you know, that end point in sight, we can work towards it. We can organize towards it. We can motivate ourselves to kind of travel along that path, and I think particularly now, we want to understand that hope represents the fact that something can be done. 

 

The times may be difficult, the times may even be bad, but we can do something about it, and incorporating that into our storytelling is vital, because, you know, wins can be few and far between in reality, but we can still imagine a better future, like you said, for all of us, and to make sure that everyone is included where you know, it may take decades of organization and lots of resources that we don’t immediately have access to, but as long as we have that end goal in sight, we can still motivate ourselves, and we can still tell ourselves it’s worth doing this because we know what the future can look like, and we need to realize as well that, you know, the path isn’t going to be easy, but we need to seize that for ourselves, unless we have the motivation to do that, unless we know even in our minds that it’s possible, it can be difficult where everyone’s lacking energy or, like I said, resources, But having that glimmer of hope makes a massive difference. Which is just the human nature. It is in the human nature to hope. It is in human nature to think the better times are possible, because we wouldn’t, you know, we wouldn’t have progressed as a new species, I guess, without understanding no things can be better. 

 

And give as to like, to give advice to fellow writers who’ve lost hope. We’ve all been there. We have all been there. Burnout is very, very, very real, but it’s the most important thing is, don’t be afraid to do nothing for now, rest take time to do nothing and to clear your mind, which sounds kind of very meditative, and it kind of is, in a way, a large part of the creative process is to do nothing. And you know, in our information rich world, it’s so easy to constantly be thinking of things. In our productivity focused world, it’s so easy to feel I need to be doing something. I need to be actively doing something. Whereas, like some of the best ideas I’ve had have been on the bus or on the train listening to music and doing nothing, because your brain is actually working the way underneath your active thoughts and trying to make logical sense of things can often kind of interfere with the writing process. Sometimes you just need to disconnect a little bit and just calm your mind so that your kind of your natural ability to tell a story links things up together. You know, there, there is value in the concept of sleeping on it. So I think people, if they can realize that and give themselves permission to not be frustrated with themselves, to not despair, but instead to just take a few minutes, just to themselves, hours, if you can. 

 

It is an important part, and also it’s to remember why we’re doing this. We all want to be able to earn a living doing this, that that is the ideal. Not gonna lie, it’s difficult. It’s getting harder, but we’d all still be doing this anyway, even if we weren’t being paid. Yeah, we need to pay bills. I want to make that very clear, we should be paid what we’re worth, but most of us aren’t doing this for kind of fame or glory or anything. We do this because we want to tell stories. Hold on to that like, hold on to that feeling of pride, of satisfaction, of doing something that only you could do, of telling your stories and creating your characters and forging these worlds because it’s fun, it’s, you know, it’s enjoyable. And you know you can, you can communicate messages that way as well. And you know it’s even, even though the times are difficult, you can still do that, and you should take pride in that, even if you have to take a rest and step away for a little bit. 

 

And the last thing I’m going to say is make sure you find your people. We’ve spoken a lot about community through this, and you know, well, that was largely in the kind of broader sense of the communities we live in. But find your creative community as well, because they’ll often be the kind of broader sense of community that we’ve been talking about as well. But if you find people that you connect with at a creative level, you can talk to each other about what you’re doing, how you’re telling stories. You can talk to each other about how best to continue doing that, and most importantly, you can talk to each other about whatever you like. Some of the best times I have had have been with the comic artists in and around Glasgow talking about ridiculous films that we’ve seen. And that the relaxation that comes with that, knowing that there are people like you out there who are into the same ridiculous nonsense as you are. It builds you up. It keeps you going. So that, if there was one thing to take away from this, it would be, find your community.

 

Kelly:

 

Yeah, definitely. The last thing I’m going to ask is because I do want to get this in there again. I’m going to combine these into one question. We’ve talked about this actually quite a lot already, but I was wondering a Is there anything more you want to say about how can speculative fiction, especially in comics, but also in general, galvanize readers to envision new, liberatory and more inclusive futures. And what do writers need to keep in mind to make sure inclusion and liberation stay at the forefront of their worlds when they’re creating these futures?

 

Chris:

I think it’s talking to people, talking to people, reading broadly, finding experiences, authentic experiences that aren’t your own. Again, obviously, being kind of mixed race, mixed culture exposes me to a lot more kind of life experience than, say, somebody who’s from a single ethnicity or culture. But you know, I’ve spoken quite at length about my friends and talking to them, hearing their stories, learning more about their cultures, about their shared narratives, has done wonders for me, not just in like storytelling, but just in in story appreciation, because I’ll be able to watch TV shows or films or read comics by people who who don’t have my life experience. I’ll be able to go, Oh, I know that story. I know what they’re talking about here. 

 

Oh, there’s subtext going on here, and kind of appreciating that, or even just kind of when, when talking to other people from different life experiences, being able to to understand their frames of reference as well. It is very important. I mean, the old adage is good. Writers read a lot, right? But that is important. I’m going to substitute reading because I actually I’m very bad at reading. I only recently started reading prose again. But you know, wherever you find your narratives be, that in television, film, video games, there is an amazing plethora of video like indie video games out there that tell amazing kind of stories that would otherwise be marginalized. Seek out these experiences, look at the blogs of the people who made these things and understand where they came from and how they got to making that particular story and kind of related to that is when you’re building your worlds, when you’re building the worlds that your science fiction or fantasy stories are taking place in. Do think about cultural consultancy. It’s a fantastic thing, like, I’ve reached out to and hired cultural consultants in quite a few of my own comics, and it’s something that I’m trying to do more of now. And, you know, they bring a richness to that that, you know, that absolutely cannot be compared or cannot be substituted by doing research on your own. 

 

Admittedly, I have a certain privilege that I can afford to hire people to do this work, but if you can, it’s well worth doing. And you know, I’m certainly not like focusing other people’s experiences as a centre of my stories, largely because that’s not what I’m interested in doing, because I have enough of my own experiences to do. But when I’m constructing the worlds that my characters are living in, it makes it more authentic to you to be able to say, Oh, well, this character wouldn’t react that particular way. Or this character would, you know, they would kind of do this, or actually did one that was set in the Western Isles of Scotland. And it was fascinating how little I know about the Western Isles, because of the consultant that that hired who works in housing in well, Jura is an inner isle, but it was off the west coast of Scotland, and, like, immediately, the notes that she gave me on, like the ferry operator that I had, because I had, like, written this guy who was, like, in a cable knit sweater and like a hat, and she’s like, no, he’s going to be wearing a high vis vest, like just the little bits and pieces that she gave were were so important to making the story authentic, and that was that was a kind of slightly horror story, but the advice that she gave to me allowed me to pivot away from because it was a folk horror story. 

 

There’s always the risk of going, oh well, and the islanders did it all. 

 

Kelly:

 

Like in The Wicker Man. 

 

Chris:

 

Yeah, and I managed to make it not The Wicker Man, the guidance of the cultural consultant who said, No, the islanders are going to be wary, but they’re not going to be hostile. Have them be interested. Have them doing things. Don’t make them part of the scenery. Don’t make them props for the main characters, which is actually a note that I’ve got, is make sure that you’re treating people as people in your story. 

 

Kelly:

 

Which I think, in general, is a very, very good, yeah, for anyone who, who makes stories. 

 

Chris:

 

Absolutely have people react as if they, you know, as if they were actual people. Don’t just have them, like, acquiesce to whatever your hero is doing. Or, like, okay, yes, you can have all my money go on your way and save the world. Have them react realistically. Have them behave as communities, but behave because everyone wants to live their life relatively quietly and on their own terms. 

 

Have them react that way, and don’t treat them as props or scenery. They should be believable as people. I think that is a very important thing to take into your worldbuilding, to your speculative fiction. And you know, you don’t need to have a whole history for these communities of people. Just have them act like you would expect, you know, a group of people to react in reality, that is one of the most important fundamentals. I think. 

 

Kelly:

 

Awesome. Yeah. Thank you so much. And really, I think this goes back to where, anyway, where we started from is that if we talk about people as people, and we treat people as people in our world building and in our in the futures that we envision, both on the page and away from it, then I think we are well on the way to at least imagining futures that are more liberatory and where definitely more of us can be absolutely yeah. So yeah one thank you again so much for this. This is so much fun. I genuinely could have gone on for at least, like, another hour. And before we sign off, I was just gonna ask, are there any upcoming projects from you that we should look out for, and where can we find you on the internet?

 

Chris:

 

Oh, definitely I like a plug. I can’t remember when this is going out, so this may have passed by by that point, but I’m going to plug it anyway. I will be interested.

 

Kelly:

 

Yay. Are you going to Thought Bubble this year? Yes.

 

Chris:

 

So I’m really looking forward to that. I will be debuting some new stories there.

 

Kelly:

 

Oh, where are you going to be?

 

Chris:

 

I will be in Bubble Boy Hall, in Table c5 so I’m really looking forward to that. That’s going to be an excellent time. The weekend after that, I will be at Edinburgh Comic Art Fair, which is in the out of the blue drill Hall, which is kind of along Leith Walk. The weekend after that, I’ll be at Browns Lane Market in Paisley, and then the weekend after that, I will be at TAGS Fest back through in Edinburgh, which is, it started last year. It’s a combination of visual storytelling and storytelling through tabletop games. It’s run by Eve Greenwood of Quindrie Press and Brian from Stout Stoat Games. It is a fantastic show. I think it’s back in the Fruitmarket. I need to check, but I will be at all of those, and I have some new books. I did a psychological horror collection with my friend Amanda Griffiths, and it’s just it’s very experimental. It’s kind of long lingering shots of kind of like creeping building terror. We’ll see how it does. And I will also be launching my book Siren, which is, I’m describing it as a kung fu fairy tale. It’s about arrogance and guile. I was really pleased with how it turned out.

 

Kelly:

 

Where can we find you online? So your website, yes.

 

Chris:

 

So my website is probably the place that you can get links to everything else, which is just that, www dot chrislau manson.co.uk, I am on Bluesky, which is a relatively new social media platform. I just Chris Lau Manson on there. If you search for me, I should turn up. I am also on Instagram as at Chris Lau Manson, but that’s mostly food pictures. 

 

Kelly:

 

Yeah, I think, yeah. I think that’s it for us. Um, one last time. Thank you so so much for joining us, and hopefully we’ll be seeing you again in the future, hopefully.

 

Chris:

 

So I would love to talk more.

 

Kelly:

 

Bye, thank you.

In this episode, we talk about envisioning liberatory futures through inclusive, satirical storytelling in comics, and how the comics medium encourages readers to engage with those futures on their own terms. I’m joined by Chris Lau Manson who will be sharing his thoughts and experience as an independent, interdisciplinary comics creator.

Chris Lau Manson is a mixed Scottish-Chinese artist and writer based near Glasgow. Originally from Hong Kong, Chris draws on his twin heritages to tell Speculative Fiction stories that explore how tradition can empower us, and how traditionalism can hold us back. He mainly works in comics, but also illustrates, and writes and performs in comedy theatre.

In this episode

  • Defining hope in creative practice
  • Exploring speculative fiction and folklore
  • The unique power of comics to foreground reader experience
  • Inclusivity as the baseline for liberatory futures
  • Advice for writers and creators

Books and authors mentioned

The links included in this episode use our Bookshop.org affiliate link. As a bookshop.org affiliate, we earn 10% on sales. By using our affiliate link to buy any books you help support us and all funds earned go towards supporting our mission.

Publishers and Events

Book Week Scotland

Book Week Scotland is an annual celebration of books and reading, supported by Creative Scotland and SLIC. This year features a blended programme of events and activities for all ages. To find out more and see what’s on view the full schedule.

Share this post