
Cindy Lamothe Q & A with Eastern Iowa Review
Chila: You know how favored your essay, "You Will Have a Son," is in my eyes. It is utterly beautiful, transcendent. How did it come about?
Cindy: So nice of you to say, thank you. It’s a funny thing because I initially conceived of this as a prose poem and not necessarily a lyrical essay. It came to me fully formed just a few weeks after my son was born, and I remember breastfeeding him in one arm while typing it on the small screen of my phone with the other. They often say that your life flashes before your eyes at the moment of death, but I also think it happens in other rare instances, like after the birth of a child. In a way, your every single experience gains greater significance because it’s become part of their legacy. I wanted to capture this “transference” of sorts. But also, as I discovered by the end, it’s also a piece about the way we grieve our losses, and how we come of age with a heart both bruised and eager to live.
Chila: All the places you mentioned in the essay, fascinating to me, perhaps, because though born in Europe and moved to the US early in life, I've traveled very little. Out of all the places you've been, where do you suggest I must visit if I only had one choice, one ticket.
Cindy: There are so many places that have made an impression and which I mention in my essay, but perhaps one spot that has really stayed with me was visiting Barcelona in my twenties. The city lends itself to lyricism—its architecture and streets are both haunting and sensuous—full of mystery and the most amazing energy which you must see for yourself.
Chila: I hear that Antigua (Guatemala) is a lovely town. You currently live there. What about Antigua might we find unique and notable?
Cindy: Something I discovered shortly after moving here and has forever fascinated me are the hidden crypts located along different ruins. Of course, as someone who also writes fiction, my mind likes to conjure the stories behind these catacombs. But apart from this, what makes Antigua unique is that it attracts people from all over the world without losing its rich cultural heritage. On any given day, you’ll find tourists walking alongside indigenous residents. Further, the city is surrounded by volcanoes and lined with colorful colonial buildings. There are also many wonderful coffee shops that I frequent more than I should admit to!
Chila: You recently had a piece of nonfiction published in The Atlantic online. Tell us why you wrote that. Will you be writing more nonfiction along those lines in the future?
Cindy: I have always been drawn to social justice and human-interest stories, particularly those that shed light on these under-examined themes. Perhaps it’s my journalistic background, but I’m endlessly curious about topics that fly under the radar, always asking what isn’t being discussed right now. How do our actions ripple out and affect those around us? When I began researching this piece on sibling parentification for The Atlantic, I knew I wanted to showcase all sides of the story because what interests me is painting a portrait that is neither black nor white—all family histories have these grey tonalities of hardship and moments of grace that are quite often entwined.
But apart from this, I have also written about medical care for trafficking survivors, which is another area that is underreported and needs to be given more attention. It’s important for me to keep exploring these larger conversations, and I suspect I’ll always lean toward what’s being overlooked, what needs to be said.
Chila: What is that one grand goal in life, that one far-reaching dream, you're stretching for?
Cindy: Only one? I have so many! Right now I’m in the midst of considering a non-fiction book project but I would also like to eventually publish a novel. I have so many writing hats I like to switch between — essayist, poet, journalist, fiction writer. My grand goal though, is to live a life I can feel proud of, whatever that means. It’s easy for me to get caught up in “milestones” but essentially, I’m at my best when I’m harnessing my ambition with the pure love of craft. I recently came across a quote by Anne Lamott that perfectly describes this, “Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don’t give up.”
The dream I strive for is learning to be patient and enjoy each stage I’m going through, and this applies both to my writing and my personal life.
Chila: Will you write more lyric essays? Will you send another one to EIR at some point (please say yes)?
Cindy: Oh my, thank you! I will most definitely write more lyric essays and would be absolutely honored to send them to EIR!
Chila: You know how favored your essay, "You Will Have a Son," is in my eyes. It is utterly beautiful, transcendent. How did it come about?
Cindy: So nice of you to say, thank you. It’s a funny thing because I initially conceived of this as a prose poem and not necessarily a lyrical essay. It came to me fully formed just a few weeks after my son was born, and I remember breastfeeding him in one arm while typing it on the small screen of my phone with the other. They often say that your life flashes before your eyes at the moment of death, but I also think it happens in other rare instances, like after the birth of a child. In a way, your every single experience gains greater significance because it’s become part of their legacy. I wanted to capture this “transference” of sorts. But also, as I discovered by the end, it’s also a piece about the way we grieve our losses, and how we come of age with a heart both bruised and eager to live.
Chila: All the places you mentioned in the essay, fascinating to me, perhaps, because though born in Europe and moved to the US early in life, I've traveled very little. Out of all the places you've been, where do you suggest I must visit if I only had one choice, one ticket.
Cindy: There are so many places that have made an impression and which I mention in my essay, but perhaps one spot that has really stayed with me was visiting Barcelona in my twenties. The city lends itself to lyricism—its architecture and streets are both haunting and sensuous—full of mystery and the most amazing energy which you must see for yourself.
Chila: I hear that Antigua (Guatemala) is a lovely town. You currently live there. What about Antigua might we find unique and notable?
Cindy: Something I discovered shortly after moving here and has forever fascinated me are the hidden crypts located along different ruins. Of course, as someone who also writes fiction, my mind likes to conjure the stories behind these catacombs. But apart from this, what makes Antigua unique is that it attracts people from all over the world without losing its rich cultural heritage. On any given day, you’ll find tourists walking alongside indigenous residents. Further, the city is surrounded by volcanoes and lined with colorful colonial buildings. There are also many wonderful coffee shops that I frequent more than I should admit to!
Chila: You recently had a piece of nonfiction published in The Atlantic online. Tell us why you wrote that. Will you be writing more nonfiction along those lines in the future?
Cindy: I have always been drawn to social justice and human-interest stories, particularly those that shed light on these under-examined themes. Perhaps it’s my journalistic background, but I’m endlessly curious about topics that fly under the radar, always asking what isn’t being discussed right now. How do our actions ripple out and affect those around us? When I began researching this piece on sibling parentification for The Atlantic, I knew I wanted to showcase all sides of the story because what interests me is painting a portrait that is neither black nor white—all family histories have these grey tonalities of hardship and moments of grace that are quite often entwined.
But apart from this, I have also written about medical care for trafficking survivors, which is another area that is underreported and needs to be given more attention. It’s important for me to keep exploring these larger conversations, and I suspect I’ll always lean toward what’s being overlooked, what needs to be said.
Chila: What is that one grand goal in life, that one far-reaching dream, you're stretching for?
Cindy: Only one? I have so many! Right now I’m in the midst of considering a non-fiction book project but I would also like to eventually publish a novel. I have so many writing hats I like to switch between — essayist, poet, journalist, fiction writer. My grand goal though, is to live a life I can feel proud of, whatever that means. It’s easy for me to get caught up in “milestones” but essentially, I’m at my best when I’m harnessing my ambition with the pure love of craft. I recently came across a quote by Anne Lamott that perfectly describes this, “Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don’t give up.”
The dream I strive for is learning to be patient and enjoy each stage I’m going through, and this applies both to my writing and my personal life.
Chila: Will you write more lyric essays? Will you send another one to EIR at some point (please say yes)?
Cindy: Oh my, thank you! I will most definitely write more lyric essays and would be absolutely honored to send them to EIR!
Thanks to Cindy for this fine Get-to-Know-You! I, for one, will be watching her career with interest in the days ahead. ~Chila
Cindy Lamothe is a biracial Honduran-American writer with an international background in Journalism and Communications. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in various literary journals including The Atlantic online, The Washington Post, New York Magazine, Fiction Southeast, Guernica Daily, Hunger Mountain, The Rumpus, Tiferet Journal, among others. She currently lives in Antigua, Guatemala with her loving husband and small toddler son. Find her on Twitter at @CRLamothe or at her website cindylamothe.com. Cindy's "You Will Have a Son" was nominated by EIR for a 2018 Pushcart Prize. Issue 3
Cindy Lamothe is a biracial Honduran-American writer with an international background in Journalism and Communications. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in various literary journals including The Atlantic online, The Washington Post, New York Magazine, Fiction Southeast, Guernica Daily, Hunger Mountain, The Rumpus, Tiferet Journal, among others. She currently lives in Antigua, Guatemala with her loving husband and small toddler son. Find her on Twitter at @CRLamothe or at her website cindylamothe.com. Cindy's "You Will Have a Son" was nominated by EIR for a 2018 Pushcart Prize. Issue 3