Discover How Personal Experiences Shape Susan Wingate’s Compelling Narratives
Susan Wingate discusses her writing process, blending autobiographical fiction with magical realism, and how caregiving influences her exploration of themes like love, time, and resilience in her narratives.
Susan Wingate is a literary force whose work resonates deeply with readers through its exploration of complex themes and emotional depth. With a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Lindenwood University, Susan has honed her craft to produce poetry, short stories, and essays that have graced the pages of esteemed journals such as the Virginia Quarterly Review, the Superstition Review, and Suspense Magazine. Her novel, “How the Deer Moon Hungers,” has garnered eight book awards, a testament to her ability to weave compelling narratives that capture the human experience. As a proud member of PENAmerica, Mystery Writers of America, and Sisters in Crime, Susan continues to push the boundaries of storytelling, crafting tales that delve into the intricacies of life, love, and loss.
In this interview, Susan shares insights into her writing process and the profound impact her personal experiences have had on her work. Living on San Juan Island off the coast of Washington State, Susan balances her writing career with her role as the primary caregiver for her husband, who suffers from frontotemporal dementia. This unique perspective infuses her stories with authenticity and emotional resonance, particularly in her exploration of themes such as caregiving, resilience, and the fluid nature of time. Through her innovative blend of autobiographical fiction and magical realism, Susan invites readers to expand their understanding of narrative possibilities, offering stories that not only entertain but also inspire and heal.
How has your experience as a caregiver influenced your writing and the themes you explore in your work?
When my mother got dementia, I began blogging posts I called The Dementia Chronicles. Caregiving the afflicted is like caring for a child who will never learn to care for himself and will only decline. Blogging nudged me into nonfiction. In 2017, seven months after my mother died, doctors diagnosed my husband, Bob with aphasia and the aphasia morphed into dementia. I began blogging again and renamed the posts The Dementia Chronicles 2.0, which concentrate on Bob’s journey with dementia. Caregiving has pushed me to writing nonfiction that explores how true love can bind people together.
“Susan Wingate masterfully crafts narratives that resonate deeply, blending emotional depth with innovative storytelling to captivate and inspire readers.”
You are currently working on a story that combines elements of autobiographical fiction and magical realism. Can you elaborate on how you weave these genres together and what themes or messages you hope to convey through this unique narrative style?
I believe each human has a personal story. Not all personal, nonfiction stories are exciting. The idea of mixing autobiography with fiction isn’t new. We often mix two or more fiction genres inside the same story. Take the romantic thriller. Romantic thrillers mix a thriller subplot into a romance novel. Mixing genres isn’t a new idea. Justin Torres writes fiction that crosses into his real life. I believe real life affects our storytelling so why not include real events into fiction settings and vice versa—fictional events into real life stories. My latest work in progress does this. Toss in a little magical realism and, Voila! You have a story that tests the markets of fiction and nonfiction. Daniel Wallace’s novel Big Fish does much the same. Big Fish is his memoir about the last days of his father’s life. Yet Wallace includes a fiction tale that runs parallel to the memoir.
My message is to writers. Expand your thinking on creativity. Write in both genres. When we write through genres we create new experiences readers will adore.
In The Heartbreak of Time Travel, you explore themes of caregiving and dementia through the character of Snuffy Cod. How did your personal experiences influence the portrayal of these themes in the story?
Caregivers cannot escape the effects of caregiving. That I happen to be a writer means I might express caregiving differently than a nonwriter. Because I cannot nor do I want to set aside who I am—a wife and a caregiver—Snuffy Cod became my alter ego, a raw version of me. The Heartbreak of Time Travel takes my experiences of caregiving and tells them from Snuffy’s viewpoint. Call it a coping mechanism if you must.
“Caregiving has pushed me to writing nonfiction that explores how true love can bind people together.” – Susan Wingate
The story tests how time happens. Not the continuum of time and how we think of time happening—outside of us and out of our control—but how time happens in our minds. And how, if we can control our minds, we control time to our desires. We don’t think chronologically and if we believe Descartes’ statement, “I think therefore I am,” then we don’t live chronologically either. The concept of time travel has always been back and forth in time. We live in time slips. Our minds slip between the past, present and future at neck breaking speed. Can you imagine thinking about only a future? Only a present? Only a past? We don’t think that way. We don’t speak that way. Therefore, we don’t live that way. I believe our writing should reflect the way we live—in time slips—as well.
The concept of time travel in your novel seems to serve as a unique narrative device. What inspired you to use this approach, and how do you believe it enhances the reader’s understanding of grief and hope?
This story started as a journal about caregiving. Then memories encroached into the writing. Next, hopes and fears. Ultimately, my wishes snuck in. Upon completion, the story had become a jumble of bittersweet fiction and nonfiction. The Heartbreak of Time Travel is a memoir that tests norms of writing. The idea of love that surpasses all understanding of time through its hopes and dreams and through wishing for different outcomes guided my writing. My husband is the best person I’ve ever known—the kindest, gentlest soul. The narrative device is asking, “What if?” What if I can avoid a future, one without my husband. What does that story look like?
“There’s beauty everywhere even in sorrow.”– Susan Wingate
In How the Deer Moon Hungers, Mackenzie Fraser faces profound loss and grief. How did you draw from your own experiences or observations to shape her character and her journey throughout the novel?
Deer Moon is fiction start to finish. The only thing true about Deer Moon is the place we live. This is how I feel. There are two types of people. People who have experienced death often and those who have not. I am of the former, often. At eleven, my best friend died of leukemia. Two years later, my grandfather died. At sixteen and again at twenty-seven two other best friends died. I have seen surviving family rise above the heartache, and I’ve seen people crumble. Death has always been a large part of my life. It is part of life. That MacKenzie sees death firsthand at a young age comes directly from my databank.
The story tackles themes of resilience and personal growth in the aftermath of tragedy. What message or insight do you hope readers take away from Mackenzie’s struggles and triumphs?
If we watch the news, we see human resilience on display daily. Humans tend to live past pain. We persevere. Most people want to live long lives. It’s our nature to look forward—to time slip—into some future. There’s beauty everywhere even in sorrow. The beautiful thing about humans, they tend toward heroism and love helping others. If I write stories that help someone through difficult times, I have succeeded in crafting the story. Those are the stories I want to tell—stories where we prevail.
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