Olivia Gatwood on Crafting Her Stunning Novel “Whoever You Are, Honey” [INTERVIEW]

Olivia Gatwood is the author of two poetry collections, New American Best Friend and Life of the Party, and the co-writer of Adele’s music video for “I Drink Wine.” She has received international recognition for her poetry, writing workshops, and work as a Title IX Compliant educator in sexual assault prevention and recovery. Her performances have been featured on HBO, MTV, VH1, the BBC, and more. Her poems have appeared in The Poetry Foundation, Lambda Literary, and The Missouri Review. Originally from Albuquerque, she lives in Los Angeles.

Below are excerpts from the interview with James Morehead on the Viewless Wings Poetry Podcast.

James: As a poet, the thought of writing a novel sometime in my future terrifies me, the number of words to write, character crafting, plot; all the novel things. The fear of scrapping the project midway and starting over. What was your journey from accomplished poet to starting a novel? 

“I think having an idea that just feels very clear to you, that is not in whatever genre you typically write in, is crucial. If you have an idea and think, ‘This just isn’t a poem; this has to be a novel. This has to be a screenplay,’ instead of trying to shape it into the genre you feel most comfortable in, that’s a great time to take the leap and really move into the way that story wants to be told.

“Writing a novel is an extremely long process. When I was writing this book, because it’s my first novel, I don’t think I was even aware of how long it was going to take, which was a blessing, honestly. Now that I’m starting again, it’s far more daunting because I know that I’ve got years to go on this. But in other ways, it’s less daunting because I know how to structure a novel and how to approach it.

“It was a matter of finding my voice as a fiction writer and incorporating my voice as a poet, figuring out how those two things can work together, collaborate, and find each other on the page. There was a lot of work I had to do around plot. As a poet, plot isn’t something I often work with. Poetry makes a lot of space for questions, ambiguity, and interpretation, and a novel can do that too, but ideally, it will have some kind of clear arc.

“Even then, my book has so much ambiguity that probably frustrates people, but that’s just myself as a poet. I want to leave certain things unanswered. It’s a scary venture, but I think the first step is really looking at ideas that are coming to you, considering what sort of concepts you want to wrestle with and what stories you want to tell, whether they be from your own life or non-fictional stories, and start thinking, ‘Can any of these exist outside of the genre I’m most comfortable in?'”

James: I’ve always found poets to be wonderful novelists: Michael Ondaatje and Margaret Atwood have both written multiple novels and poetry collections. Safia Elhillo has written wonderful novels in verse. There are always moments where poetic language and form peeks through the prose. A couple of many examples from “Whoever You Are, Honey”

At night, the windswept silhouettes of the cypress trees are even more pronounced, each tousled limb carved black against the sky. The tide is low, the water still. Somewhere, the perennial coo of an owl. Mitty is on a walk. She’d worked a double that day, and her mind was still polluted with the chaos of kitchen shouting. Her body riddled with the stink of grease.

and

the empty homes that still maintain the appearance of life, their patios decorated with full sets of furniture arranged to face one another as if there is about to be a conversation.

How have your skills as a poet helped you as a novelist?

Olivia: “I think that because of the minimal amount of language in a lot of poems, each word gains new importance. You aren’t using language in poetry just as a means or a vehicle to move the story forward; you’re using language as a means to make a reader feel something sensually.

“In fiction, sometimes language is seen just as a vehicle, a means to get from point A to point B. Words aren’t considered for their sound, texture, or the uniqueness of their usage. The best fiction, to me, uses language the way poetry does, where each word is heavily considered. Poets are experts at that.

“When I was writing this book, it was a lot of work to look at every word and ask, ‘Can I find a better description for that?’ Also, without making the language too flowery, is there a way to describe this thing that doesn’t just communicate the way it looks but the way it feels to look at it?

“I think poetry really prioritizes feeling rather than just visual effect. Those are the books I like to read, and I tried to emulate that.”

James: “Whoever You Are, Honey” is unsettlingly good in a way that burrows into your brain and lingers. Despite primarily being a rich exploration of character, there are wisps of “Rear Window” voyeurism, a murder mystery with dark secrets. Without giving away any plot points – this book deserves to be read spoiler-free – what was your approach to mapping out the story threads that are unveiled through interleaved flashbacks?

Olivia: “It was incredibly hard. I was thinking the other night, this book went through so many drastic changes. In the first drafts, there were entire characters that existed that no longer exist. There were characters that were dead in the present story, and every time they appeared in the story, it was a flashback to when they were alive. Then I brought them to life because I liked them too much. There were so many drastic changes.

“It was really a process of trial and error: writing the story out one way, seeing that something lacked momentum or didn’t click, feeling like, ‘Oh, I really like this backstory but it’s not resonant.’ Then asking yourself, ‘Does that mean it shouldn’t be here at all? Does that mean I need to amplify it?’ It was a process of working out each corner of the story separately in each draft.

“There would be a draft where I focused entirely on Bethel—where she appears, how her story is unveiled, and when her story is unveiled. Figuring out when in the story you want to even know Bethel’s backstory. Then, reading it through and realizing Lena doesn’t really have a voice, maybe I need to write sections for Lena. Going in and writing those sections for Lena, and then making sure those sections feel like they’re in conversation with Mitty’s sections and that they are working together, not just added after the fact.

“It was really hard, and it wasn’t that organized because it was my first time. I was doing a lot instinctually and trying things. There were whole drafts in first person that I then changed back to third close. Now, as I work on a new project, I’m far more organized, and I think I understand the structure of a novel better, so I can avoid some of those errors. But you really do have to play with everything in the beginning to figure out what kind of book you want to write.”

James: Mitty & Bethel, Lena & Sebastien, Patricia, and Esme are so clearly realized. Living near Silicon Valley I’ve overhead many Sebastien’s. After finishing your book I’m sure I could recognize each of these characters blindfolded if meeting them in real-life. The creators of the TV series “Schitt’s Creek” spoke about how much time they invested exploring character before starting filming. Anne Tyler is known for her ability to create characters that you immediately miss after the final page turn. How did you approach building the core characters in “Whoever You Are, Honey”?

Olivia: “As a writer, you have to get close to the characters first. If you feel really close to the characters, if you feel really aware of them as fully dimensional people, that will translate to a reader. That means working very hard through the writing process to understand them.

“I think that even if a scene doesn’t exist, you should know what that character would do in any given scenario. I know it’s taboo to talk about J.K. Rowling, but I did hear once that she knows what Harry Potter’s life looks like until the day he dies, even if she never writes it. To some degree, you have to know those things. You have to know, even if this character wasn’t in this scene, what if they were? How would they react?

“You could think of them like friends. At a certain point, they do become predictable—not in a bad way, but in a human way. You understand them to the degree where writing them stops feeling like work and starts feeling like you’re hanging out with them, like you’re following their lead. It’s a weird, very psychedelic experience, but when it clicks, it’s really exciting.

“Getting to know them means writing a lot of different drafts, experimenting with who they are and where they are. I was thinking last night about some of the earlier versions of Mitty and how they just didn’t fit. There was one draft where she had a boyfriend, and it was like, ‘Why can I not write dialogue between these two people?’ Nothing they said to each other felt interesting. It was like watching two people on a bad date. So, I got rid of the boyfriend and brought Bethel into the mix, and that relationship was far more interesting and easier to write.

“The characters show themselves to you, but you have to earn it. It’s a delicate process of being God and also letting characters speak for themselves.”

James: I think it’s interesting what you said there. Writing is hard—it’s work, and there’s no avoiding that—but maybe there is a point where it’s so hard and unnatural that it’s a signal that this is just not working and you need to discard it and try something else.

Olivia: “Yeah, I think that can happen on a day-to-day basis. There are certain days where writing feels hard because I’m just not in a place, and I’ll close the computer. That doesn’t mean that section of the story isn’t worth working on at a different time. But if every time you come to that section you feel uninspired, bored, confused, or frustrated, it’s often boredom that signifies something to me. If I feel like, ‘I wouldn’t even want to be in this scene, why would someone want to read it?’ that’s a real signifier that something’s not right. Your characters are not where they’re supposed to be.”

James: The tech industry and AI, so timely and controversial right now, plays a supporting role, and I saw some loose parallels between your “Lena” and the character “Ava” in Alex Garland’s film Ex Machina, but without the male fantasy of an android woman. What were your sources of inspiration when building out the world of “Whoever You Are, Honey”? 

Olivia: “My mom grew up in Santa Cruz, and I grew up hearing about it as this kind of mythical place where she spent her early years. She described it as a city always at war with itself. When my mom was growing up, it was a working-class agricultural town that then became influenced by academia when UC Santa Cruz moved in. There was a very different socio-economic population, and my mom talked about those changes. The hill she used to ride her donkey on as a little girl suddenly had a Hilton hotel built on it. These stories of gentrification had a social element too—beauty standards changed when people from elsewhere moved in. The way people socialized changed when their neighbors were people they didn’t relate to.

“When I moved to Santa Cruz in my late 20s, I saw the same thing happening, but with the tech industry. The academics had become old-school Santa Cruz people and were now protesting the influx of tech people from San Francisco. There was a lot of tension in how we lived in community together. I saw how tech also impacted the experience of being a woman. When society prioritizes obedience, efficiency, minimalism, and perfection, it affects every element of our lives, including desirability.

“There was a very real-world part of it that I leaned heavily on, writing what I’ve seen and felt. For parts of tech that I wasn’t a part of, like writing Sebastian, I talked to men who work in tech to understand if this man was a caricature or if he could exist. Would this man be an engineer or a founder based on the personality I created? I got a lot of insight through that.

“I did a lot of research into the canon of fembot narratives, which date back to the silent film era with a movie called ‘Metropolis.’ Fembot stories have been a huge part of our culture, and we’ve been obsessed with the idea of building the perfect woman forever. It only started becoming something worthy of critique, especially from women, around the 60s and 70s. Before that, it wasn’t seen as a misogynistic trope.

“The common theme in all these stories was often about a man grappling with the sentience of his creation. I continue to feel like the most interesting part of these stories is the fembot and who she is. The relationship between her and the man is predictable and limited. I’m curious about who this woman becomes, how she finds liberation, and how she integrates herself into a world with other women. So, I decided to write that story.”

James: Poetry can include dialogue, or more typically snippets of dialogue or short phrases, but it’s unusual. When I think about the challenges of crafting a novel, writing dialogue is high on that list. Here is just one example of “Whoever You Are, Honey” that I found very effective:

“You know my perspective,” Bethel’s voice is tinged with a subtle annoyance. “Women who look like that are lonely,” she says. “They get too deep into their own minds when they aren’t being looked at.” She flips off the television and begins walking toward the stairs.

“I’m not arguing that,” Mitty says. “I understand what loneliness looks like.”

“Why?” Bethel peers up, preparing herself for the task of climbing toward the second floor. “Because you’re lonely?” She says it with a burgeoning sarcasm, but Mitty can hear that the question is shadowed with genuine concern.

“No,” Mitty lies, unable to shake the desire to protect Bethel’s feelings. “But I have been.”

What advice do you have for writers that fear crafting effective dialogue?

Olivia: “I was very scared of dialogue as well. I did my undergrad in a writing program, and one of the first assignments our professor gave us was very helpful: eavesdropping on conversations and transcribing them. This exercise teaches you about speech patterns. People don’t speak in perfectly thought-out sentences. They often pause, correct themselves, and adjust their language.

“This doesn’t mean you need to include every ‘um’ and ‘like’ in your writing, but finding a middle ground that feels natural is important. Dialogue should have a sense of momentum that keeps the reader engaged without feeling overly scripted.

“Another thing that eavesdropping teaches you is that people rarely say exactly what they mean. This isn’t about lying but about adjusting what they say based on who they’re talking to. They simplify things if they think the other person won’t understand, tell white lies to make someone feel better, or correct themselves if they think they might sound wrong. Observing these nuances helps you understand what’s underneath the dialogue.

“In fiction, you get to write the dialogue and also reveal the underlying thoughts and emotions. It’s a great exercise to eavesdrop and then jot down what you think each person is really trying to say. It taught me so much, even though it felt a bit creepy.

“My friend Amy Lynn, who’s a writer, always says that being a fiction writer means being a bit of a creep. You have to observe people closely, noting how they move, speak, and interact. Reading screenplays is also helpful. You’ll quickly see the difference between natural, interesting dialogue and dialogue that feels forced.

“It’s important for dialogue to move the story forward. Sometimes writers include dialogue just to fill space, but every conversation should have a purpose. Even if characters are just stuttering back and forth, it should mean something for the story.

“As with all aspects of novel writing, you’ll get it wrong many times and keep chipping away at it until it feels right. Dialogue writing is a process of constant revision until it aligns with your vision.”

James: A poetic approach present in “Whoever You Are, Honey” is leaving elements of the book open to interpretation and resisting the temptation to spell out every detail. For me that’s why this book rattled in my brain long after the final page. In poetry, that can be because the poet isn’t entirely sure how their work should be interpreted. Without giving anything too specific away about the plot, do you have a definitive idea on the nature of Lena’s existence and other plot elements that are left open to interpretation, or do you share the uncertainty of the reader?

Olivia: “I feel like I know what happens and who Lena is. Even though I knew that during the writing process, I also wanted to hold onto a sense of ambiguity. If you know something too certainly and then write about it ambiguously, you’ll end up writing in a biased way, leaning towards the direction you understand to be the truth. I wanted her existence to remain ambiguous, so I tried to hold onto that ambiguity while writing.

“There were drafts where her story was a lot less ambiguous, but as I wrote more, it felt less and less important. The questions about Lena’s identity are central because she feels uncertain about who she is. I wanted the reader to share that uncertainty. Everyone feels uncertain about who or what Lena is, and Lena is on a journey to find that out. I wanted us to live in that ambiguity alongside her and recognize that this obsession with her identity is also what dehumanizes her.

“What’s far more important is what she wants, what she feels, who she loves, and where she wants to go—all of these integral parts of what it means to be a person. Those are the things I wanted to focus on about Lena.

“Additionally, AI at its best, most effective, and most advanced is ambiguous. If you call a hotline and get a robot voice, you know you’re interacting with a robot, and it’s not creepy. But if you get a human voice and somewhere in the conversation there’s a glitch that makes you wonder, ‘Wait, is this an AI?’ that’s when it feels unsettling. What makes people afraid of AI is the feeling that we might not know if we’re interacting with it. It’s not even that it exists; it’s that we might not be able to tell what it is. That’s the idea of the Turing test: if a human interacts with a computer and doesn’t know it’s a computer, then it’s passed.

“So, ambiguity is an important part of the advancement of AI, and I wanted to give readers that experience of not knowing, even if it might be frustrating.”

James: When we first spoke for this podcast a few years ago we talked about how poets approach ordering a collection of poetry, which is challenging because poems are typically written as distinct pieces, not as a collective. Poem titles are also challenging so I can only imagine how hard it is to title a novel. In the case of “Whoever You Are, Honey”, the title appears unexpectedly, and so appropriately, in the first half of the book. How did you approach titling the book, given the title will be the first line of the book a reader sees?

Olivia: “Well, I’m a believer that titles usually show themselves in the work. Actually, I had the title before I ended up writing the scene where the title appears in the book. Originally, it didn’t show up in the book at all; it was my own secret knowledge. The title, as you’ll see in the book, is a line of dialogue from a 1960s spy spoof movie called ‘Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine.’ It’s a campy movie about an evil scientist who builds an army of bikini-clad robots who then rob wealthy businessmen in San Francisco.

“There’s a scene where one of the businessmen is being seduced by one of these robots. He maybe has an inkling that something about her is off, but his desire gets the best of him, and he says, ‘Whoever you are, honey, I love you to pieces.’ I immediately loved that line because it was so emblematic of the idea of ignoring warning signs because one’s needs and wants feel more important. So, I wanted the title to embody a piece of fembot history as a kind of ode.

“Often, I’ll turn to the actual text of what I’m writing to find a title, but here it felt exciting to have a title with a history behind it. It just showed up in that way, and I love searching for titles because they do pop out once you see them, and then they’re wonderful.”

James: “Whoever You Are, Honey” was optioned for a movie and recognized by Vogue in its “The Best Books of 2024 So Far” feature several months before being published. I’m hoping that bestseller lists show equal enthusiasm for your book. How are you planning to support the book (and thank you for including San Francisco with an event.) 

Olivia: “Yes. I’m going on a book tour, visiting cities along the California coast and some East Coast cities. The book tour might extend as time goes on, so you can come to live events. Pre-orders are incredibly helpful for all books. Pre-ordering new books gives publishers an understanding of anticipation, and that’s always extremely helpful.

“The book is being adapted. I’m adapting it, and movies take a really long time. Hopefully, that will happen one day. In the meantime, reading, reviews and book clubs are great. Engaging with books helps them thrive, especially when they’re passed on. Often, people read based on recommendations from friends and communities. So, if you like the book, pass it on. That’s the most I can ask for.”

Listen to the full interview on the Viewless Wings Poetry Podcast to hear Olivia recite a passage from “Whoever You Are, Honey”.