The stories in On the Way, the new collection from Chicago author Cyn Vargas, come from a place of pain. Broken marriages, broken homes, lost mothers and distant fathers swirl in and out of the stories, told through a variety of narrators (though most often, those narrators are girls between the ages of nine and thirteen). Throughout the pain and failed relationships, Vargas creates a picture of something deeper than love: a loyalty, a responsibility, and a connection that outlasts the fun times.
I talked to Vargas about the stigmas of writing fiction close to your own story, the draw of a pre-teen perspective, and how often, love isn’t everything.
Author Cyn Vargas
Kati Heng: I’m curious about your connection to Guatemala. You mention it in a number of stories, set some there. Have you been? Do you have family there?
Cyn Vargas: My father is from Guatemala and though my father was never involved in my life, I have been there a few times to visit my grandma. It’s an amazing place with two different personalities depending on whether the sun or the moon is out. I have always felt a special connection to that place though it came by blood via the person I feel the least connection to.
KH: A lot of these stories contain broken marriages, parents running away, etc. How do you explore these topics so deeply/often and still keep hope for your own relationships?
CV: My father left my mother, my brothers, and me when I was six to marry our pregnant babysitter. I grew into a reality where there was a lot of pain and depression and isolation intertwined with happy loving moments. You have to have both in life. To appreciate the joy, you have to have the pain too. I think I am able to write bittersweet stories because I have lived through it. My life now is great, but it’s also not perfect. Nothing ever is. So, there are moments of hurt, but I know that anything worth it is work, and that happiness is there too.
KH: It seems like a lot of stories also center around preteen girls. Is this an age that you feel a particular connection to or attraction to explore in writing? What is it about nine-year-old girls that makes them such great protagonists?
CV: I am very drawn to writing about the pre-teen girl perspective. My novel-in-progress’ protagonist is a thirteen-year-old girl living in 1984 Chicago. I’m probably most comfortable writing in that voice because I was a preteen girl a long long time ago. It’s the age where perspective changes. When you realize that what you knew wasn’t really that way at all or it was, but will never be that way again. Boys, family, friends. It’s a transition time in life. When you sort of start growing up (though does one ever stop growing?).
KH: In bold on the back of your book, it says “Love isn’t Everything.” Can you explain why you choose that? What else is there, I guess?
CV: My publisher actually chose to put that in the back. It’s a line from “The Visit,” from the collection. When I saw it, I actually giggled and thought it was fitting for the whole collection. Besides love there is the willingness to communicate; to try; to work hard at the relationship. It’s not enough to love someone, if all you do is speak empty words or promises, or if you are holding on when really loving that person would mean letting them go love someone else. Many people are so dependent on finding the one, or finding love, that they forget there is so much more. Love encompasses communicating, and respecting, sharing, listening, taking time for yourself, giving time to others, knowing when to step back, knowing when to step up, prioritizing, being present, being in the moment. Love is work. It’s not just words on a To-Do list.
ON THE WAY: Stories by Cyn Vargas
KH: I’m sure people read these stories and imagine you’re the product of a similar broken family/divorce, etc. Is it harmful when people assume such things, or just condescending to your writing skills? I guess, do people bring that up even?
CV: Great question. I never thought about this. I’m very open with things that have happened in my life and though my book is categorized under fiction, people will assume what they wish. I try not to worry about things I can’t control. If people think all or some of my stories are about me, then they can. I don’t have the time or the energy to try to convince them otherwise. When I write fiction, the narrator uses me as a catalyst to get the story on the page. Hence, fiction. I have also published essays, which then, of course, people know it’s real, so I don’t have qualms calling the story what it is.
KH: Did you write these stories intentionally around a theme for this book? Or are these hand picked among a bunch of your stories? Or lucky accident?
CV: I wrote about twenty-five stories without any theme in mind. I just knew I wanted to tell different stories with different narrators. It wasn’t until I had to choose which went into the collection that I realized all my narrators have the wanting to be loved, acknowledged, be who they truly are, in common.
KH: Tell me about your bookshelves. How are they organized? Do you alphabetize? What have you had on there since you were thirteen? What are you constantly rereading?
CV: I actually just got bookshelves! I have always had my books in my closet in order of how they could be stacked and not fall over. I now organize the books by their impact on me with the most powerful at eye level. All my daughter’s children’s books on the bottom shelves, so she can reach them of course, and I have two monkeys reading books as bookends. I am constantly rereading The Alchemist and stories by Chekhov.
KH: The last story in the book seems, to me, by far the most optimistic. Intentional?
CV: “Fossils” was my way of saying give the unknown a chance. We can’t move on if we don’t take risks. That story came late in the game and I did want to end on a note that things can change. Whether they change for the better or make things worse is yet to be discovered, but making that step to open yourself up to the unknown is what is important for anything to happen.
