Email Interview with Brian Sousa (21st May 2017)

About Almost Gone:

Is the boy of "Fortaleza" supposed to be Fernanda's brother and where is the clue that tells us if he is or not?

Marcello is Fernanda's brother, indeed! There are a few clues to this, most notably after Scott struggles with the boy in the water, and then Fernanda comes to him upset, saying that her brother went to the beach and didn't come home. This passage is also meant to foreshadow the idea that Scott has now seen two children drown: Marcello, who he struggled with and when Scott almost drowned himself, and his own daughter, Emily:

"Fernanda stares too, following my eyes. "I don't," she says, but I'm not sure if she means that she thinks her brother is lost, or if she doesn't understand what I'm saying. It doesn't matter. We stare out at the flat sun, setting so low and close it feels like we could reach out and touch it. The waves that moved so restlessly before have disappeared..." (Pg. 12).

It's important to note that "Fortaleza" is supposed to be hazy and a fraction confusing, because Scott is drinking and taking pills. My intention was to have the entire story feel surreal, as seen through Scott's fractured and dream-like point-of-view.

Is the book autobiographical?

No, this is a work of fiction, through and through. However, I think all authors use details, small and large, from their lives, to get more of a sense of realism, and therefore power, into the work. For example, I did spent time in Fortaleza years ago; but I wasn't mourning the death of a child and self-medicating.

With which character does the empirical author mostly identify?

I'd most identify with Scott, if anyone; but that does not mean I haven't felt the emotions that Catarina, Nuno, and Paulo embody.

Is there any character you'd have liked to expand more on?

I find Catarina to be a fascinating character. I like the idea of a strong, independent woman who is learning about herself and breaking away from all expectation. I see her, in fact, as one of the most important characters in the book, and I'd love to get her back on the page and see where else she would go.

Would you change anything in the book now?

Yes, there are some typos and errors, some associated with the Portuguese language, and some not, that I would change. I was attempting to mix English and Portuguese as Junot Diaz does in his great book Drown, but it didn't really work altogether. Other than that, I am fairly satisfied with the book; but it is true that when I read it now, I think, "Oh, I'd write this sentence differently or describe this in more apt terms," but I think many writers are never completely satisfied with their work.

What happens to Scott?

That's an interesting question that I haven't really given a ton of thought! I would hope that Scott would ultimately leave Brazil and try to establish a new life somewhere; to start over. Or, perhaps reconnect with Paulo, his father. But, he is struggling with some heavy demons, so maybe he would just say in Brazil as an ex-pat, where no one knows him.

About Writing:

What are your literary influences? 

Did Under the Volcano influence Almost Gone?

I've never read Under the Volcano, but I grew up reading Ernest Hemingway, Raymond Carver, and William Faulkner. I'd also put Hunter S. Thompson, Denis Johnson, Jhumpa Lahiri, Bret Easton Ellis, Donna Tart, and Jonathan Franzen, Frank Gaspar and Junot Diaz into an unfinished list of my influences.

How do you feel about the Luso-American label?
On a broad level, I generally feel that labels can be limiting; can limit the pursuit and expression of art. What I am trying to do is tell a story, and move the reader to think and to feel. I have never attempted to write anything but what appeared on the page when I started typing. I am, of course, delighted and flattered to be read in Portuguese-American classes, and with my grandfather being from Gouveia, the Portuguese-American experience is a piece of my life. I spent every Sunday, growing up, at my grandparents' house, listening to them speak Portuguese, eating Portuguese food, and watching soccer! So it is only natural that this aspect of my life came out onto the page. 

However, I do feel that labels can imprison writers - especially in literature - but in all art. The more free we are as artists, as writers, to express ourselves without the weight of expectation, or the worry of "staying within the lines," the better, in my opinion. I do not consider myself a Portuguese-American writer, or an American writer; just a writer.

What is your relation with the Portuguese Language? Do you think your work as Portuguese-American writer would be enriched by improving your Portuguese (language and literature)?

I wish I had learned Portuguese early in life, and still hope to learn. The thing is, the language wasn't pushed on me, perhaps because when my dad was a kid, he found himself in the States, trying to fit in as an American; and he stopped speaking Portuguese. So, he never impressed upon myself, or my sister, the idea of learning the language. Someday, though, I'd like to spend a year or two in Portugal and learn the language! Maybe after I finish my next book.

What do you consider to be the most featured aspects of Portuguese-American identity in writing? What is the one you consider most important to you?

I suppose it is the element of Saudade; but for me, it is also the ideas of identity, and diaspora, and immigration and adaptation. I was always interested in what customs and beliefs my grandparents held onto, as opposed to those that they seemed to leave in the old country - and, the same with my father. How, then, we are tied to our pasts.

What is the Portuguese-American literature you like best and why?

When I was in Lisbon in 2011, I read all of Frank Gaspar's poetry. I would bring his books to cafes, read, and then write my own. I love his work, and I also love the work of Anthony De Sa, who I was lucky to meet in 2013.

I love what I have read of Saramago, Camoes, and Antunes; but I admit I would like to read more of their work, and perhaps take a class on them as well. I have found, however, that I love much of Pessoa's poetry and Book of Disquiet. I find quotes like this amazing:

“We never love anyone. What we love is the idea we have of someone. It's our own concept—our own selves—that we love.” 
― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

“I've always rejected being understood. To be understood is to prostitute oneself. I prefer to be taken seriously for what I'm not, remaining humanly unknown, with naturalness and all due respect” 
― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

“I feel as if I'm always on the verge of waking up.” 
― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

What is your writing process?

That is a difficult one, because I am not sure if I have a specific process. I try to write even when I'm not inspired, to see it as work, albeit rewarding work. I find ideas mostly come to me when I am doing other things, so I take a lot of notes in notepads and my phone. I generally revise a lot, on my computer, and when I think something has reached a certain level - a poem, or a chapter, or right now, 1/3 of a novel, I print it out and sit outside and use a pen to mark it up, then go back to the computer.

Generally, I think it's important to write what you love, what excites you, and what you would like to read. It is integral to take risks, and to also be confident in your work - but at the same time, be open to criticism.

Are there any theories behind your writing, literary or otherwise? Which?

I enjoy debating the ideas: 

what is a good person? Can bad people do good things, and good people terrible things? How do our backgrounds, and our parents' and grandparents' backgrounds, ethnic and otherwise, impact our lives? Why and how do we keep secrets? And, what is the nature of romantic love and how we see it now?

I am also interested in identity, and self-perception. But overall, when I write, I am trying to convey emotion, and trying to move my reader to think and to feel. If I can do that, then I believe I have succeeded.