Interview: Michelle Li on “The world has not been kind”
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
How would you describe your artistic practice?
MICHELLE LI
I would say a really defining moment in my practice was COVID-19. You get to this point during quarantine when you're a little bit bored. My dad signed me up for this creative writing class. I must have been like 13 at the time. This teacher—I wasn't sure about how she explained things sometimes, but I was very impressed by some of her writing. It kind of unlocked something in me. I always think that writing is something that can be intrinsically beautiful. Sometimes you can read poetry and you can be like, well, I don't understand what this piece is exactly saying, but enjoy the way that the author uses language.
I will mention, as a kid, I was not very good at English or any form of writing. I remember that I had a lot of friends who were very talented in that regard, and I just really wasn't interested until much later.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
So it was really the class and then from there, you ran with it?
MICHELLE LI
I think it had to have been the class and the free time I had to really ruminate on writing. Also, what was happening during COVID made me reflect on a lot of qualities of being human. When I was younger, I didn't really give it that much thought. So I think a lot of the themes in my writing, such as time and brevity, might stem from how I felt during quarantine.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
Can you talk about the when and why behind this piece?
MICHELLE LI
If I recall correctly, it was in November of last year when I wrote this piece. I remember it was kind of cold, which is unusual for Texas because it's never cold here. There was this meeting going on, and I was sitting in the general vicinity of the meeting, but I clearly was not a part of what was going on. I don't remember it specifically, but I remember the event triggering an emotional reaction. It's not like I was crying at the moment, but it made me reflect: What is it like to be so near to something, but not actually be a part of it? That's where I got the idea for the piece.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
You brought up time, and I was reading back—it’s interesting how you play with time. Being stuck in the beginning of the piece to flashing over to the future. I was wondering how this plays out in your own life. Are you someone who often thinks about the future and growing up?
MICHELLE LI
When I was a kid I used to be—even now really—I've always been very concerned about how finite everything is, how we can't be certain about anything. We're doing a probability unit for math this semester, and my math teacher once said that the probability of somebody's height who is, for example, 5 foot 8 being exactly 5 foot 8 is zero. We can't know anything specifically, so what do we really know? That was one of the things that bothered me a lot as a kid. Another thing that kind of scared me was death, which I think does make an appearance within the piece.
What I'm trying to get at is that I have a very conflicted relationship with time. I don't like the fact that it's always passing by, but we still kind of have to make peace with it if we want to live with some type of contentment.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
I want to talk about the two artists that are part of your piece in the footnotes, Ocean Vuong and Daniel Liu. Where did these people come into your life and what about their work resonated with you?
MICHELLE LI
A lot of times, when I start a piece, I don't really know how to begin it. With this piece I actually started with a specific quote from Daniel Liu, who was a writer I accidentally stumbled upon on the internet. I was impressed with his writing and I went on to read almost all of his other pieces. The way he uses language is so poetic and beautiful. From what I recall, the line that I used was the line that actually began the poem.
Regarding Ocean Vuong, he's one of my biggest poetic inspirations. This ties back to the class I had when I was 13 during COVID. The teacher who taught the class was actually a student in college. At the end, I had a one-on-one talk with her online and she said something I'll never forget. She said, if you want to be a good writer, you must also be a good poet. To tell a 13-year-old something like that, I was not very on board with it. I'd always wanted to be a prose writer. I did not give a second thought about poetry. Because poetry, to me, had just been like... Shakespearean sonnets. I'm not saying that Shakespeare is a bad writer. I think he's absolutely marvelous. But you have to take some time to kind of integrate yourself within old English.
But Ocean Vuong is a modern writer. The way he uses language is how we use language now. His poetry made more coherent sense to me. The first poem I read by him was "Someday I'll Love Ocean Vuong," and I loved it. At first I didn't really understand what he was getting at. But the way he used language was absolutely... it just kind of blew my mind. I didn't think that you could use language in that way until I saw him do it.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
Do you have any tricks for your writing practice?
MICHELLE LI
I call someone on the phone. Really, ask anybody for advice. I feel like there's this kind of culture in writing that makes you feel as though you can only ask people who are super knowledgeable about the craft who have dedicated years to it for substantial advice, but I think asking anybody really helps. I ask my friends who don't write about where they think something might not make sense. Because when you write something, you want it to resonate with as many people as possible. I feel like the more people who are impacted by the craft, the better it is for the community in general.
Secondly, I feel like asking your teachers at school, if you're a young writer. This year I have such a passionate English teacher. Sometimes I go in and ask him about my writing and he gives me advice. Something he says a lot is: it's the job of the writer to pose questions, more than it is to answer them.
Whenever I read a piece that I'm super impressed by, I print it out. I have a stack of a lot of pieces that I've liked. Sometimes I annotate them and question, why do I like this piece? I've gotten into reading Mary Oliver. I think one of Mary Oliver's tricks is that she writes so deceptively simple, but with so much meaning. I think that it's actually very powerful.
Also, I think William Faulkner coined this phrase, "kill your darlings."
And lastly, read a lot. That is the oldest advice about writing.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
What was it like to grow up in Texas and what inspirations did you pull from for the piece?
MICHELLE LI
I was imagining this vastness at the beginning of the piece that kind of condenses itself toward the end. This huge generalness in the beginning of the piece that eventually merges into specific memories that everybody might have, even if they don't come from Texas.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
The themes of this issue are heritage, cultural ecology, and art. What do these themes mean to you and your writing?
MICHELLE LI
We're all very influenced by the environment we grow up in. The kind of family that I have definitely has played a huge part in my upbringing and which then influences my writing. Another big theme in my writing is childhood. I'm at the point where I can still consider myself a child, but also not really anymore.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
Where are you most yourself?
MICHELLE LI
Location-wise, I went up to New York this summer and I was in the Boston area for a couple days. When I was younger, it was always a big dream of mine to go up north, go to one of those fancy colleges and achieve as many great things as I could. I'm not saying that ambition is bad—it's definitely good to have goals and dreams.
Anyways, I've never been a huge Texas fan, which is kind of strange. But when I was so far away, I missed some parts of Texas. I don't want to say I feel most at home in Texas, but I feel most at home when I know people around me more, when the community is someplace I'm familiar with.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
You mentioned Rachmaninoff and Sylvia Plath in your blurb. What are these artists to you?
MICHELLE LI
I started liking Rachmaninoff after I had to play one of his pieces for a piano solo contest. At night, when I study late, I listen to his piano concertos back to back. I think he has four of them. I think he writes such beautiful music. I'm honestly just such a fan of his. I don't think I've ever seen another composer compose like him. It's like what I said about writing. It's just intrinsically beautiful.
I picked up The Bell Jar when I was on a trip to Florida, I think two years ago. It was some of the most unhinged writing I had read at that time. But it made me feel a lot of sympathy for the main character of the book, Esther Greenwood. I previously never had any exposure to this kind of writing. Writing that walks the line between unhinged and also desperately relatable in another way. And I think it kind of tells the reader that we can be so many different things all at once. These things don't have to be good, but they don't have to reduce our ability to be human.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
You said you like to jump rope, so what's your record?
MICHELLE LI
Probably like six minutes without stopping.
ANNA RUBENSTEIN
That's quite a lot.
