Some people can’t help but compare Haiti Noir to its predecessor The Butterfly’s Way: Voices from the Haitian Dyaspora in the United States, but as the subtitle of the latter indicates, it was a collection of short literary works by writers from the United States.

Haiti Noir for its part, is a literary works collection of not only writers in the United States (Katia D. Ulysse, Ibi Aanu Zobi, Patrick Sylvain, Marie-Lily Cerat), but celebrated novelists and playwrights of Haiti like Rodney Saint Eloi, Yanick Lahens, Evelyne Trouillot, Marvin Victor, Kettly Mars, Louis-Phillipe Dalembert, Gary Victor, who live and write in various corners of the earth be it France, Haiti, Canada, Germany, and whose award-winning writing, in most cases, is finally being made available for English-speaking readers (translated by Nicole and David Ball). Not only is Haiti and the Haitian experience seen through their eyes, but it is seen through the eyes of non-Haitians like novelists Madison Smart Bell and Mark Kurlansky.

And Haiti Noir has practically picked up the Lost Years between the time The Butterfly’s Way was released, and modern times, to include life-changing events like Haiti’s 2010 earthquake, which is explored in three stories in the 18-story collection. Gary Victor sprinkles dark humor in his story “The Finger”, which is so macabre it makes the heart go pitter-patter with vigorous “Tell-Tale Heart”-like beats. One of the most arresting stories in the collection is Josaphat-Robert Large’s “Rosanna”, the ill-fated story of an orphan who is the victim of lower-class resentment of the elite. Its almost unexpected ending inspires shivers.

M.J. Fièvre’s “The Rainbow’s End” recounts an episode in the life of a precocious teenager during the embargo-imposed 1990s and the older, reckless man of ill-gotten gains that she falls in lust with, while in Nadine Pinède’s “Departure Lounge”, a young Haitian expat in Cap Haitian, who has auditory comprehension of Kreyol, as she calls it, but full-blown comprehension of her culture she lacks not, collaborates with a Martha Stewart-esque mogul and cringes at her employer bringing a copy of Zora Neale Hurston’s book Tell My Horse, as her guide to Haiti.
Haiti Noir is like an all you can eat spot, that makes you yearn to eat more from Haiti’s literary buffet.

Creating dangerously—that’s what Edwidge Danticat’s writing ancestors did. One of the most acclaimed writers of this century and last, and arguably the most prominent Haitian-American writer in the United States, you’d think that Edwidge Danticat would put her pen away, and rest on her laurels which include a National Book Award nomination, and a win, The National Book Critics Circle Award, the International Flaiano Prize, and the Langston Hughes Medal. and others, if were to list them all we’d risk getting typist cramp.

Non, non. The lady scribe hasn’t put away her blood for ink, nor her parchment paper. Instead, she chose to release her latest literary opus Creating Dangerously: The Immigrant Artist at Work, to explore the creative journeys of immigrants. She opens her collection of introspective essays with a written remembrance of Louis Ardouin and Marcel Numa, two artist-students who in 1964 were mercilessly executed, as one of the 13 members of Jeune Haiti, a revolutionary group that attempted an invasion of the country during the presidency of François Duvalier. From there, she explores her journey and that of other artistic greats, who often had to create at the risk of their own lives, and that of their families. A decade and half after she made her literary debut with Breath, Eyes, Memory, Danticat tries approaches her craft with as much enthusiasm as when she was the young writer blushing over acclaim from critics. Get into the circle and listen to our conversation.

Q&A

Will there ever be a sequel to Breath, Eyes, Memory?
It’s probably wise to never say never, but I don’t think there will be a sequel to Breath, Eyes, Memory anytime soon. I have a lot of other stories I want to write. I’m not sure I’m ready to revisit those characters again in the very near future, but I am always extremely moved by the way that this book has touched some people. I would have never imagined what it would mean to a lot of young women, for example, which is why I am hesitant to touch it. Breath, Eyes, Memory is like a first child. You try everything on your first child and make all your mistakes and hope and pray it still turns out okay. Maybe at some point I might revisit Sophie, the main character, as a grandmother–maybe when I am a grandmother myself– see how she has done in America late in life. Who knows? But I’m not thinking of writing a sequel right now.

You came to the United States as a little girl of twelve. Did you, in your wildest dreams, think that you would become the writer of world renown that you are now?
Well, you know how they say that God can dream a bigger dream for you than you can dream for yourself. This is certainly the case. I would not have been able to dream any of this and by “this” I mean, having the great blessing of doing something I absolutely love, as my work, every single day of my life. That to me is the definition of success, doing something you love and are passionate about and having good health and most days having relative peace of mind.

Out of all the books you’ve written, which one do you think would lend itself the most to a film adaptation?
I used to work in film and I still try to work as much as possible in documentary for example, because it is a medium I love, but I am probably the worst person to make that determination. I think they would all make good films in the right hands. I have to tell you that in the last couple of years, I have had many promising conversations with so many wonderful young Haitian and Haitian-American filmmakers, some in film school, some out on their own, that I am very optimistic about our having some wonderful films made within this community over all. I want to take the opportunity to incidentally plug Jacmel’s Cine Institute, Haiti’s only film school. They are doing great things in film. Also this short film was made by Rachel Benjamin from one of the stories in Krik? Krak! called “The Missing Peace”.

Which of your books has been the hardest to write?
Hands down, it has to be Brother, I’m Dying, my memoir about the death of my uncle and father. In one way writing it was a way of visiting with both my father and uncle after they died, but in another way, with each page and each day, they were slipping away from me. It was the fastest book I had ever written, but also the hardest, emotionally, to write.

Do you imagine ever sitting in front of your computer or with your notebook in hand, and not having one word come out?
No because on that day, I would write, “Why I am sitting in front of my computer with my notebook in hand and no word is coming out? OH GOD WHHHHHHY?” And that would be something, right? Seriously, it has happened sometimes, but when it does, I read or do something else or try to go about living my life and not pressure myself too much until the words come back.

Is a room with a view an absolute necessity for a writer?
I don’t think so. Sometimes a great view can be distracting and make you want to go outside and play. I write at night mostly, exactly for that reason, to have as few distractions as possible.

Your father and uncle are unarguably two of your life’s biggest heroes. What is the best advice they’ve given to you?
Both my father and uncle were not the type to give me direct advice really, beyond the strong “recommendations” and suggestions, which are not really suggestions, that we all get when we are young. But I learned a lot of things by example from them. My uncle was a minister so his sermons were filled with konsèy to his congregation. One I remember clearly is about humility. Sèl pa bezwen di l sale, he used to say. Salt doesn’t have to say it’s salty. Beginning with the time I was a teenager, on my birthday, my dad always bought me flowers and chocolates. The first time he did that he said, “I want to be the first man to give you these things so that you don’t lose your head the first time someone gives them to you, so that it feels normal to you, so that you know you deserve them.” After that he always sent me flowers and chocolates on my birthday every year until he died. Wherever I was I would always get flowers and chocolates from my dad on my birthday. And it was always a great reminder to me that I was loved unconditionally, which is something I miss so much from him, which is one of the reasons, I still miss my daddy very very much. That and the fact that my girls and my brothers’ children won’t know either of these men are still heartbreaking to me.

Of all the accolades that you’ve gotten which one means the most to you?
Every award is a gift, something encouraging you to continue and go on. That’s really how I see them as encouragement to try harder and do more and do better and hang in there. The MacArthur Fellowship was a most tremendous gift, of course. The Hurston/Wright nominations as well as the Langston Hughes medal which was very kindly given to me last November 18th meant a great deal to me , because I have always loved the work of Zora Neale Hurston and Langston Hughes, especially the work on Haiti, so it meant a lot to me to have this full circle connection between them and me and Haiti.

Recently though, I participated in an event for the two year commemoration of the January 12th earthquake organized by Dickson Guillaume and the Haitian Mass Choir in Brooklyn and three young Haitian-American women from the organization Beltifi presented me with a painting painted by the founder’s mother and right before giving it to me the young women read a few words and one of the young women said something like, “Thank you because after reading you, we have no fear”, and I was at a total mess after she said that. I was at a total loss for words.

I kept seeing myself at fifteen and imagining also feeling momentarily fearless because of some book I had just read and I knew exactly what she meant and this was such a full circle moment for me and I was so moved and was so choked up that I was not even able to give the speech I came to give. I looked at those young women and I kept thinking of our journey as immigrants in this country and I kept looking back and looking forward at what words, our parents’ dreams and courage, their love, fears, pride, prayers, support and these types of things can do and what reading and art can do and what these things might mean one day to my daughters and other young girls and women like them and I got really, really choked up.

You have two daughters. How has motherhood been for you?
Motherhood has been greatly sweetened by the fact that I have a most wonderful husband. My girls have been blessed with a great father who enjoys their company and carries a lot of the load. I often tell people that motherhood is a family project, from my mother and my mother in law to the great friends who love my daughters and sometimes care for them like their own, this all makes motherhood easier and my ability to do other things possible, so it bears saying, because we don’t say it enough, that at its best motherhood is a communal project. It takes a village, sometimes several villages, indeed.

With do-it-yourself book technology, do you think that one day, there will be no need for publishers and books, especially printed books?
I am not sure where it’s all going. I think we’re all a bit nervous, truthfully about what all the technology will mean to writers, readers, publishers, booksellers and books. Which part of the chain will be wiped out first, we wonder? Bookstores? Publishers? Writers? Who knows? All I know is that people have been telling stories since the dawn of time and they will continue to find some way to tell them and even if there is some day enough technology to tattoo a book behind my eyelids, I think I will always want to hold something in my hand and turn a page anyway.

Photo: The MacArthur Foundation

Edwidge Danticat has an obsession with the sea, from The Children of the Sea, a harrowing story from her short story collection Krik? Krak! to her latest work Claire of the Sea Light. The book centers on Claire Limyè Lanmè, a little girl who vanishes in a small fishing hamlet in Haiti on her seventh birthday. It has a thriller-like pace that’s reminiscent of The Dewbreaker. The last time Danticat had a juvenile protagonist was in Behind the Mountain and of course Anacaona: Golden Flower, but there is something extremely odd about little Claire, and she is bound to be ranked among Danticat’s most memorable protagonists.

How did the idea for Claire of the Sea Light come about?
Once, I was watching a TV program about Haitian children who are placed in foreign-run orphanages in Haiti, even though their parents are still alive. These parents, who, for economic reasons, were unable to care for their children, put them in orphanages, hoping that their children will have a better life. I have a dear friend who grew up this way and eventually reconciled with his birth family as an adult. In the program I was watching, someone said that Haitians are not as attached to their children otherwise they wouldn’t just give them away. That stayed with me because I didn’t grow up in a nuclear family. My brother and I spent the early part of our lives with my aunt and uncle in Haiti, in a house full of cousins, whose parents, like ours, were working abroad. I knew how difficult that choice was for our parents and for my friend’s parents, and many other people who find themselves in that kind of situation. I wanted to try to write about someone making that choice and show the very moment that choice is made from these three different perspectives: the parent, the child, and the potential new parent.

Do you sometimes find yourself feeling torn between painting certain realities about Haiti, and painting another picture? Censoring yourself? Like, sometimes do you think to yourself, “Some people’s only exposure to Haiti are my books. So I’d better…
I love Haiti, and I want others to love it too, but I don’t think creating an alternate reality in which all is rosy and perfect is the only way to write about it, even in fiction. I think it’s important to tell nuanced and complex stories that show many sides to our physical spaces as well as our humanity. Nothing new about that though. That’s what some of our best Haitian writers have been doing for generations now.

Who does Edwidge Danticat read in terms of authors and poets? Who are her faves exactly?
I read a lot. I have lots of faves. Currently I am reading Jessica Fievre’s memoir Inheritance in manuscript and it’s spectacular. I am also reading Amy Tan’s new book, The Valley of Enchantment. I am re-reading a lot of older Haitian writers since I am editing a follow up to Haiti Noir, a book called Haiti Noir 2: The Classics.

Speaking of languages, do you think that one day English will supplant French as the language alongside Creole that is spoken and written in Haiti?
I don’t think so. Instead, I’d love to see the role of Creole expand further, in academia, in the educational system. I have now lived in the United States for 32 years. I write in English because of the circumstances of my life, but it’s not something I would want to see imposed on others, especially in their own country.

You tend to shy away from social media and the web…
Believe it or not, I am a little shy, and there is a part of me that feels like social media is the biggest stage in the world. I like the idea of having a book out then fading away for a while to become somewhat invisible again. I kind of need that to reboot and start working on something else. But I am doing a little bit more of the web and social media these days. My publisher does most of the posting on my wonderful Facebook page, but I contribute sometimes as well. And this year, I will finally get a website.

You lived in New York for most of your early life. But when one studies your career history, it seems that since you’ve moved to Miami, it’s like you’ve been producing books practically back to back, with less and less time in between new releases. Do you think that geography has had an influence on your creativity? Like, the closer you are to Haiti, the more inspired you are?
Miami is a great city and living here has definitely made it possible for me to get to Haiti more often. However, I don’t think living in Miami can necessarily be credited for my productivity. Actually I have a lot more responsibility now than I had when I was younger and living in New York. The family. The kids. Aging parents and in laws. Maybe becoming older and having more on my plate has taught me to better manage my time and has given me more to write about.

[Photo Credit: Josephine Demme]

Be sure to connect with the author on her FACEBOOK PAGE. You can purchase the book HERE.

Edwidge Danticat’s latest novel is Claire of the Sea Light, the closest thing she’s ever written to a paranormal novel. The story takes place in Ville Rose, a little town in Haiti, where Nozias—a man of little means—is seriously considering giving his daughter Claire away to a better-off store owner. But Claire disappears and as the story develops, it becomes apparent that Claire Limyè Lanmè is no ordinary little girl.

In Part 1, Edwdige Danticat discussed everything from social media, to book title choice, and the use of the Creole language in novels. The conversation continues!

The Dew Breaker, The Farming of Bones, Breath, Eyes, Memory. Your novels have the most intriguing and poetic titles. Do you usually come up with the titles, and then write the novel? Or do you name your literary babies after their actual birth?
Some titles come before. Some come after. Some come during. Breath, Eyes, Memory, for example, was initially called Daughters of Haiti, until the editor brought a line from the book to my attention. The Farming of Bones comes from an expression some former cane workers used to tell me about, travay tè pou zo, working the land to the bone. The Dew Breaker is a literal translation of choukèt laroze, a henchman from the dictatorship era.

Your books have had some really interesting covers. Do you have a say with cover design?
The publisher usually sends me covers and thankfully, if I really hate a possible cover, they won’t go with it. They are also very much open to my suggestions. The cover photo for Claire of the Sea Light, for example, was taken by my friend Carl Juste and the cover girl is my oldest daughter Mira.

Do you tend to finish every novel you start?
I have at least four unfinished books in my drawer right now. Two of them might become one at some point in the future and two might never become anything at all.

All your heroines, from Sophie Caco to Ka and down have always inspired pity, empathy, and admiration. They’ve been good, well-meaning girls all around. Do you ever think about having a villainess as your main character?
That’s one of the novels in my drawer.

Out of all your novels and literary works, do you have a favorite?
Brother, I’m Dying because my father and uncle are alive in there.

Which one do you think would make a great Broadway musical?
Anacaona, Golden Flower, one of my children’s books.

At this point of your life, you’ve written nearly a dozen literary works. Do you sometimes revisit, say, your first book; your second book, and tell yourself, “Ugh, why did I write this! If I were writing this now, I’d do it so differently!” Like, do you wish you could rewrite some of your other earlier books, based on what you know now, as a human being who has done a lot more growing up, and a writer whose pen has gotten more mature?
I can’t even read some of the early work. Most writers will say that. Of course there is so much I would do differently, if I were writing those books now, but I had to write them to mature and that’s how it is.

What’s the most off-the-wall interpretation; wait-a-minute-I-never-intended-for-this you’ve ever had about one of your novels, either from a critic or from a reader?
I don’t consider any interpretation off the wall. When I’m done with a book, I realize it is no longer mine. I might disagree with an interpretation of something, but I never consider it off the wall.

Edwidge Danticat. Author. Wife. Mother. Daughter. Should the word feminist be added to the list of your descriptors?
Wi. Feel free to add it on. I am definitely a feminist.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
I spend time with my family. I have two small children, so the “time when I’m not writing” is well accounted for.

What’s next for you?
I am currently editing Haiti Noir 2: The Classics. It will be published in January 2014. It’s a sequel to Haiti Noir, with many older stories. We have stories that have never been translated into English before from Ida Faubert—one of Haiti’s first published women writers—Jacques Roumain and Paulette Poujol Oriol. We also have stories from Lyonel Trouillot, Jan. J. Dominique, George Anglade, and Dany Laferrière, among others. I am extremely excited about this book. I think it will introduce—or reintroduce—a whole new generation of readers to some older as well as contemporary giants of our literature. And just as with Haiti Noir, part of the proceeds will go to one or several grassroots organizations in Haiti.

You can purchase Claire of the Sea Light HERE.

Edwidge Danticat is going to be releasing a new novel this year, and Kreyolicious has the exclusive!

Yes, cheries, your girl has it like that!

Here is a cover reveal of the new novel.

The novel entitled Untwine is about the relationship of twin sisters, and is set in Miami and Haiti. This is Edwidge Danticat’s third Young Adult novel, following Anacaona: Golden Flower, Haiti, 1490 and Beyond the Mountains. Scholastic is releasing Untwine in October, so look out for it!

Go Edwidge Danticat!

Keep up with the latest with her by visiting the Edwidge Danticat Facebook.

Edwidge Danticat was nominated for an NCAAP Award for Best Book for Untwine in the Outstanding Literary Work-Youth/Teens category, her Young Adult novel earlier this year. And now, she’s been named a National Writer’s Conference honoree. She’s receiving her award at the Center for Black Literature at Medgar Evers College of the City University of New York. Her book Brother, I am Dying was part of the prestigious The Big Read Miami program.

This is her reaction to both honors, in an exclusive statement she gave to moi:

“I am extremely honored of to have my memoir in The Big Read Miami program. One does not do this kind of work for accolades, but it is always very heartwarming to know that my work has touched people and that they have reacted to it so kindly.

Given the climate we are in now, with all the electoral rhetoric and anti immigration talk, I am very happy that people will be reading and discussing Brother, I’m Dying at this particular time. I hope the book will shed some light on the lives of people who have gone through and continue to go through similar experiences and I hope it leads to more productive and humane conversations both in private and public places.”

Congratulations Edwidge Danticat. And call the carpenter and have him build another shelf for more awards. Good for you, girl.

CLICK HERE to read other articles (including interviews) about and with Edwidge Danticat.