“Wrestling with Questions of Identity and Belonging”: A Conversation with Zilla Jones
I first came across Zilla Jones’s work in 2020, when her story “Our Father” was longlisted for the CBC Short Story Contest. A few years later, both of us had the opportunity to have work published in The Fiddlehead’s BIPOC Solidarities Special Issue, where my essay was found alongside her creative nonfiction story, “On Waking Up.” Zilla’s writing and voice are incredibly compelling, and I knew that I would love to have a chance to interview her once she had a book published. What I’ve loved about doing interviews is being immersed in a writer’s world, getting to know them through their words over time.
I immediately connected with Zilla’s writing as I got caught up in the storytelling of her work, which had me reading anything she wrote. As a writer of Chinese and European ancestry, her stories about racism, belonging, loss, and identity—and of being in that space of the in-between—resonated with me. I was excited to hear that she had been working on a book that would become her fiction debut, The World So Wide, which would contain many of the themes I had read in her earlier writings. Zilla and I shared an interview exchange over email, where we discussed endings, the role of research in writing historical fiction, and what home means.
Tamara Jong: Congratulations on your fantastic debut. I recently heard on your taped launch at McNally Robinson’s in Winnipeg that your book had already hit their top bestsellers and also wanted to make mention of your most recent news, as being chosen as one of the Writers’ Trust of Canada Rising Stars! I am so happy for you. You mentioned that you had written and drawn from a young age, but only pursued publication starting in 2019. How does this reception of your writing and book feel now and for that earlier young writer?
Zilla Jones: Creating, in whatever form, whether writing or music or my pathetic attempts at visual arts, has always been where I find my peace. It is the act of creating that I love above all, and though it is very exciting and gratifying to get published and win awards, I do not ever want this to define me as an artist, or be the reason that I do this. However, art is meant to be shared with others, and what publication does is it gets your work out to readers. I really love hearing from readers as to how my work has moved and changed them. That young writer that used to be me would be amazed.
She had no idea that this thing she loved to do, that came so naturally to her, could give her so many thrilling experiences—speaking about her book to rooms full of people, going to award galas, or simply holding her work in her hands, a tangible expression of her heart and soul. And she certainly had no inkling that other people—strangers—could find joy and belonging in her words.
I never start a piece of writing until I know how I think it will end. It may eventually change, but I need an ending as a starting point. Once I know how it will end, I try to start as close to that ending as I can.
Tamara Jong: In your interview with Tanisha Khan for The Malahat Review, you said that as a judge for the Open Season Awards contest, you were looking for stories with “strong, moving endings that have arrived, that are exactly the point where this story should finish, where things are resolved and yet there is more to think about. We spend much time on our beginnings, and often the endings fizzle out.”
I remember hearing something similar when I took The Writer’s Studio program and Wayde Compton was giving a lecture. He spoke about the large amount of time spent on our opening paragraphs (I’m paraphrasing here) and the same attention not being given to the ending. You also mentioned knowing how your story will end, and working backward. This is so fascinating. Can you talk about beginnings and endings and the process of working backward in writing, and did you do this with The World So Wide?
Zilla Jones: I never start a piece of writing until I know how I think it will end. It may eventually change, but I need an ending as a starting point. Once I know how it will end, I try to start as close to that ending as I can. Sometimes that necessitates going back many decades. Otherwise, it might be a shorter period of time. I’d actually love to write a novel that all takes place within a day! I work back from my ending, trying to figure out how the characters get there, what changes and twists and turns have to happen, what structure the novel needs to accommodate that.
I did do this with The World So Wide, though the ending I envisioned did not end up being the ending in the final version of the novel—it is essentially the end of the previous chapter. The fun thing is that after I’ve finished a draft, there is editing and revision where I continue to play and shape the story. I love this part of the process.
TJ: Okay, so I had to go back and re-read the ending. I think revision can help you see the story differently, and I like what you said about shaping it. Without giving anything away, I did notice that an opera is mentioned at the beginning and the ending of the novel, and that music plays an essential part in the book. What’s been great is learning about the operas throughout The World So Wide.
I wondered about the selection of your book title when I came across the line from the opera The Tender Land and the line, “The time has grown so short, the world so wide,” from “Laurie’s Song,” at a part in your book when Felicity has been invited to give a recital by the Winnipeg Ladies’ Musical Circle, where she is on the cusp of adulthood and reaching her destiny. What was the inspiration for the book and title?
ZJ: I knew early on that this line from this opera would play a major part in the plot and would make a great title for the book. There are so many parallels between the operas mentioned in the novel and Felicity’s life, and that of course is one of the major themes of the book: how does a mixed-race, Black opera singer, with heritage in Grenada, find herself in these operas by classical composers of European descent?
The character Laurie is 18 years old, first in her family to graduate high school, and about to leave home and go out to make her way in the world. This is exactly where Felicity finds herself at the end of high school when she first performs “Laurie’s Song,” having just won a scholarship to study singing in England. But the title The World So Wide captures more than just this moment. It comes to symbolize the contrast between Grenada, a tiny island, one of the smallest countries in the world that is almost invisible on many maps, and the wide world of opera where Felicity performs in some of the biggest cities: London, New York, Los Angeles, and others.
It also represents the power differential between little Grenada and the big United States, which invades Grenada near the end of the novel, as actually happened in October 1983. And it symbolizes the outsized impact that the Grenada Revolution had on the rest of the world. A socialist revolution in this tiny island impacted many nations in the region to the point that the United States became really worried about its influence. So, “the world so wide” is at its heart about big ambitions and big dreams.
TJ: There was a part in The World So Wide that said, “To Felicity, home was a place where you were not, a place where you didn’t quite fit in.” I wondered about being in a place, of being born there but not totally belonging in the place, which is especially complicated if you are of mixed ancestry or your parents are immigrants. The world one lives in may seem small and limited as to where you were born, just knowing about the place where you live. And this longing: “Even though she had only been to Grenada twice, Felicity imagined that scrap of green floating on the blue skirts of the ocean as her home too.”
I love this idea of home being a feeling, not only a place, and Felicity examines that question throughout the book. Although it’s a work of fiction, I learned much about Grenada’s colonial history and the Revolution because of your book.
ZJ: A very important theme of the book is that of diaspora—of populations living away from the countries of origin of their ancestors. I specifically focused on the Afro-Caribbean diaspora as that is a community to which I belong. I have always known Caribbean history and events such as the Grenadian Revolution, but I knew them in diaspora, from a distance. I didn’t live through the events or their aftermath directly, and I wanted to write a character who would experience that same sense of feeling strong ties to the Caribbean region despite living their life almost entirely outside of it, and that same ambivalence as to which place, if any, is home. I find this question fascinating and it leads to such rich explorations of both character and place.
TJ: Jack Wang, author of The Riveter, mentioned on CBC’s Bookends that “part of the task of historical fiction is to excavate the past” and that he was able to come up with a character in his book by imagining what was not necessarily found in the archives. Can you speak to the challenges and joys of tackling historical fiction, such as in your book? You cited at least 11 books, two websites, and one podcast while doing the research. How long did you spend researching and perhaps having the opportunity to travel to any of the places in the book?
ZJ: I was already familiar with the story of Grenada through stories told by my mother, but there was a lot more to learn, and that’s where I turned to books, websites, and podcasts for further information. I was researching throughout the process of writing my first draft, which took a very long time—years, I can’t even tell you how many! I have been to Grenada in the past, but I did not take a special research trip to write this book—I just used my memories and my research.
A historical novel requires a lot of research. It is not just the historical facts of the specific events you are writing about, but also details of the characters’ everyday lives. It’s so easy to mess those up. For example, during editing by my publisher, I was reminded that Felicity would not have been able to place phone calls directly but would have to go through an operator, and that her birth control pills would likely have come in a glass jar rather than a labelled pill pack. Because this novel takes place through four decades, from the 1950s to the 1980s, I had to continually research the music, fashions, and trends of each era.
In terms of the historical events themselves, I wanted to have as broad an understanding as possible. I know that two things are controversial with regard to the Grenadian Revolution. There are those who supported it and were dismayed by US intervention, and those who were against it and welcomed US troops. And there is also widespread love for the Grenadian Prime Minister who was executed in the coup, and hatred for the man who is seen as the architect of the coup, the Prime Minister’s former best friend. Although I took certain positions and certain liberties, I still wanted to learn about the facts I was choosing to reject for the purposes of fiction.
Historical fiction is not about faithfully transcribing facts from the past so much as it is about relating themes from the past that are still relevant to the world today.
One big change that I made to the narrative was that I did not have the Prime Minister’s best friend turn on him. I brought in another antagonist who was a former friend of the PM. However, I retained what I see as the central conflict in the Revolution—the question of who is a leader, what is leadership, what are the qualities of a good leader. Historical fiction is not about faithfully transcribing facts from the past so much as it is about relating themes from the past that are still relevant to the world today. And The World So Wide is full of that. Like the characters in the book, we are still protesting injustice, wrestling with questions of identity and belonging, and resisting US domination.
TJ: You’ve created such an incredible protagonist in Felicity Alexander. Her ambition of being a world-famous opera star, her experiences with racism and sexism and being torn between her career and the kind of love that could “sprout, flourish, and dwindle, expand and contract the heart.” I so enjoyed the layers of her character, her wittiness, her honesty, her search for identity, her profound losses, her heartbreaks, and her successes. She’s not perfect, which draws the reader right in. What’s next for Felicity Alexander? Will she be returning to the page?
ZJ: I would love to write more about Felicity. I have always thought of The World So Wide as being a trilogy that will wrestle more with the traumatic legacy of the US invasion of Grenada, as well as Felicity’s origin story and family history—much of this was cut from early drafts of the novel. The World So Wide is a complete story in itself and it ends with Felicity finding her purpose, but I think it would be really interesting to explore what she does next.
TJ: Zilla, can you also tell me more about the absolutely beautiful cover, designed by Marijke Friesen?
ZJ: Isn’t it gorgeous? Marijke is very talented and I’m so fortunate to have worked with her. I was provided with ten different designs for the cover, all lovely, but this one jumped out at me right away because of its use of Black liberation colours, which are also the colours in the Grenadian flag. I also love that the way it depicts Felicity is as part of the land—the themes of the novel are very apparent in this one visual, and I think that that is what a great cover does: it previews what the novel is about. I love the way this cover looks on bookshelves or online, and every time I look at it, I feel so happy.
I am here because of community. It is the most important part of my writing practice and process. I had always thought of writing as a solitary act but it isn’t—it is deeply informed by connections with others.
TJ: In your Q&A at your book launch in Winnipeg, you said in response to a question, “Sometimes when you read a book, you change.” Can you speak to work that influenced your own and changed you?
ZJ: Books have been changing me since I first began reading, and everything I read has an impact, but books that can claim pieces of my soul include Jazz, Sula, and Beloved by Toni Morrisson, White Teeth and On Beauty by Zadie Smith, Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng, Love Marriage by Monica Ali, Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin, Bel Canto by Ann Patchett, and there are so many more!
TJ: You’re pretty active on social media, notably Canada Reads, offering agent and writing advice and sharing your processes openly and generously. What does community mean to you?
ZJ: I am here because of community. It is the most important part of my writing practice and process. I had always thought of writing as a solitary act but it isn’t—it is deeply informed by connections with others. On Canada Reads, I have met so many people who became close friends, who have cheered me on behind the scenes and made it impossible for me to even think of giving up. Writing, or any artistic discipline, can be incredibly hard, and community is what lightens the burden. I am happy to give back to others in a space that has given me so much.
TJ: I was excited to hear that you have a short story collection in 2026. Can you share any details?
ZJ: The release date is February 2027. The short story collection is still taking shape, but the working title is So Much to Tell and it will likely include some stories of historic fiction, and themes similar to The World So Wide: migration, diaspora, identity, belonging, and resistance.
