12 or 20 (second series) questions with Iryn Tushabe

Iryn Tushabe [photo credit: Robin Schlaht] is a Ugandan-Canadian writer andjournalist. Her creative nonfiction has appeared in Adda, The Walrus,and in the trace press anthology river in an ocean: essays on translation.Her short fiction has twice been included in The Journey PrizeStories: The best of Canada’s New Writers. She was a finalist for the Caine Prize forAfrican Writing in 2021, and a 2023 winner of the Writers’ Trust McClelland& Stewart Journey Prize. She won City of Regina writing Award in 2020 and2024. Everything is Fine Here (House of Anansi, 2025) is her debut novel.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recentwork compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

Everything is Fine Here has been out in the worldfor a month now. I’m still getting used to the spectrum of emotions whensomeone tells me they’ve read it. Previously I’d had short stories and creativenonfiction published in literary magazines and anthologies. What I’m learning sofar is that once it’s out in the world, the novel/story is no longer yoursalone. Now it belongs to you and everyone else. Readers bring their ownexperiences of the world to the story and interpret it in ways I didn’tanticipate. It’s a joy to hear these impressions and to participate in thedialogue sparked by the novel.

 

2 - How did you come to fiction first, as opposed to, say, poetry ornon-fiction?

 

Growing up in rural Uganda, my family didn’t have a lot of books andthere wasn’t a public library in my village. But we had no shortage of stories,folk tales mostly, that my many siblings and I told and retold each other. Theseemigane, as they are called in Western Uganda, are origin stories or evenmoralising tales attempting to respond to some of life’s biggest questions, suchas where did death come from? And yet the stories themselves can belighthearted, often featuring trickster characters and deities. They lendthemselves well to embellishment so each teller can apply their own narrative voiceand flourishes while keeping to the original plot. I often think about emiganewhen I’m crafting fiction, so perhaps that’s where my storytelling began.

 

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Doesyour writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first draftsappear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out ofcopious notes?

 

A compelling idea will hit me and demand my full attention. But latelyI’ve learned to let even those ideas percolate for a week or two before Icommit anything to the page. I make notes on my phone if something comes tomind. That way I’ve done a lot of problem-solving before the actual writingbegins. My first drafts often ramble on for far too long, but I don’t worry toomuch about that now. I have writer friends who will tell me when I’ve writtenpast the natural ending of the story. I’ve learned to listen to the ones Itrust.

 

4 - Where does a work of prose usually begin for you? Are you an authorof short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you workingon a "book" from the very beginning?

 

It might begin with a situation or incident I have experienced, but thatcan only be the starting point, something to kickstart the imagination. But sometimesall I have is a strong sense of the mood or tone/atmosphere of the story. I’musually attempting short fiction or a novella; they are the forms I most adore.I get quite sad when a story I’m writing keeps getting longer because then I cansense that it wants to become a novel. And novels, though I enjoy them, areunwieldy things to manage. Especially if there’s plot involved, changing onedetail affects the whole and you have to keep track of everything. It canbecome exhausting, which is how writers block begins.

 

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Areyou the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

 

I’m a very nervous public speaker, so public readings are tough. Part ofit might be that English is my second language. In a relaxed environment Ipronounce words clearly, no problem. But in front of an audience, I stumbleover words and get into my head about not being understood.

 

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kindsof questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even thinkthe current questions are?

 

When I consider my very small body of work so far, I see that I’veconcerned myself, for the most part, with ideas of home, faith, and grief. Havingbeen born on the edge of Kibale Forest where I spent a lot of my childhood—itwas truly and extension of my backyard—I consider myself its daughter, and soI’m also always writing about the natural world and wildness, always trying tobring the more-than-human into the narrative. I suspect that I will continue toengage with these themes in some way.

 

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in largerculture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer shouldbe?

 

I think the job of a writer is to tell stories of all kinds. Hopefullythose stories can show us a wide-ranging humanity and maybe even unsettle us,thereby sparking dialogue.

 

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficultor essential (or both)?

 

Both, for sure, but absolutely essential. I didn’t always feel this way,especially as a beginner writer, but now I can’t imagine publishing anythingwithout the (sometimes annoying) nitpicking of a sharp-eyed editor.

 

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily givento you directly)?

 

To approach revision as an act of love. Re-writing and editing can be longhard work, but there’s beauty in attending to a story, or parts of it anyway. Incoming back to it again and again until it is doing what you mean for it to do.Opacity is important in fiction, but too much of it will and you risk disorientingthe reader. How to strike the right balance? Well, for me revision has provenmost useful and fulfilling. It is nice to be able to trust the process, to believethat if something is confounding me today, I can bring myself back to it laterand try again.

 

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (short fictionto creative non-fiction to the novel)? What do you see as the appeal?

 

What I love about short stories is language and precision. Every sentenceor image in a short story has to earn its place on the page; there’s no spacefor anything extraneous. But a novel is less restricting, and that’s part ofits appeal. You have freedom to excavate far and away from the central idea andthen come back. Both genres have their strengths. I suppose part of the job forthe writer is to be intuitive and curious, and to pay attention to whatever formwill best serve a particular story.

 

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you evenhave one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

 

I like to write in the morning after my kids are off to school and mypartner goes to work. I like the silence, just me and my steaming huge mug ofblack coffee. I’m always so grateful for that time to write. Sometimes I caneasily pick up from where I left off however many days ago, sometimes it isharder. Usually I can read something—a poem, a play—and get the wheels rollingagain.

 

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (forlack of a better word) inspiration?

 

There’s something about listening to an audio book or a short story whilewalking or jogging that has proven effective lately. Often I’ll listen to booksI’ve previously read so that I’m not really too invested in the listening, andthis allows my mind to wander. (Did you know that Toni Morrison narrated allher audio books?)

 

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

 

Lemongrass. And passionfruit fresh off the vine.

 

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but arethere any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, scienceor visual art?

 

The natural world certainly, and visual art.

 

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, orsimply your life outside of your work?

 

I often say I left Uganda Omukiga woman and arrived in Canada a Blackwoman. The shock was significant. I’ve been learning ever since what it meansto be a Black person or “a person of colour” making art on these stolen lands. Earlierwhen I was still in university, the women’s studies classes I took introducedme to Bell Hooks and Audre Lorde, women whose writing came rushing back to me yearslater when I was reading Alice Walker, Toni Morrison, Dionne Brand. They andother black thinkers continue to inspire me and to provide me a kind of roadmap of the possibilities of language and how to tell stories with responsiblyand care.

 

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

 

I went to film school at the University of Regina, but graduated in timefor Saskatchewan to axe the film tax credit that had made filmmaking possiblein this province. I’d like to write a screenplay some day, something to justifyall that money I spent in tuition.

 

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be?Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you notbeen a writer?

 

I suppose I’d still be doing journalism full time. I love journalism and I’malways consuming news, but for me the job was stressful. Journalism requires alevel of confidence and assertiveness that I unfortunately lack. I’m a shyperson; I’m not comfortableasking tough questions and confronting people. Fictional characters I can probeand hold to account, but most actual people make me anxious.

 

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

 

I started writing fiction during a brief period in 2015 when mypostgraduation work permit expired before my application for permanentresidency came through. Suddenly it was illegal for me to work in Canada,so my employer let me go. An immigration officer said I could stay in thecountry if I wanted while I waited for a decision to be made my application forpermanent residency. I started writing as a way to distract myself. I was alsotrying to make sense of this strange in-between place in which I found myself.What would happen if my application was denied? But writing fiction andcreative nonfiction quickly became a refuge for me. By the time I receive mypermanent residency status, I’d decided that I would practice journalism as afreelancer and devote the rest of the time to trying to become an author.

 

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

 

I’ve just finished reading Jessica J. Lee’s Two Trees Make a Forestand I’m in awe of how the author, by exploring the geological history of herancestral homeland of Taiwan, and through careful attention to the lives of hergrandparents, reaches a greater understanding of herself and her place in theworld. It’s a truly marvellous book.

 

The greatest film I recently watched is Sinners. It’s this genredefying piece of art that’s soulful and daring and deeply affecting. Thecinematography is gorgeous as is the sound track. I’m going to try and see it oncemore on the big screen before it leaves theatres.

 

20 - What are you currently working on?

I’m working on a memoir-in-essays, but one of those essays keeps gettinglonger and longer so that I don’t know if it’s really still an essay orsomething else. But I’m not too worried about the architecture of things andthis stage. I’ll keep writing and see where I end up.

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