Lilliam Rivera’s debut novel, Tiny Threads, features a young Latinx executive at a high-end couture house who slowly begins to understand the extent to which her new bosses exploit their workers and poison the earth. In Delilah S. Dawson’s most recent novel, Guillotine, a working class girl heads to a private island owned by her fashion magazine heroine, only to find the workers on the luxury estate engaged in open revolt. Below, you’ll find a conversation between Rivera and Dawson on the role of genre fiction in the long war between the haves and have-nots. (If you own a luxury yacht, this conversation is not for you).
Lilliam: Delilah, your novel Guillotine is short and full of rage. When I was reading it, I kept thinking of the movie Triangle of Sadness and the concept of class flipping. What inspired you to write it?
Delilah: Guillotine was inspired by a Buzzfeed article about the lives of the super rich. It featured a photo of a yacht so big that it carried around normal sized yachts, and it made me irrationally angry. We’re watching the billionaire class destroy the planet while working us all to the bone while fully aware that most of that wealth is generational and gained through colonization, subjugation, and careless destruction. So I played with my own rage around this topic, which began when I was a kid helping my parents clean office buildings after school.
Delilah: Lilliam, Tiny Threads is also filled with long-simmering rage at those in power who destroy whatever—or whoever—stands in their way. Their violence is both intentional and entirely careless, personal and societal. What was your inspiration?
Lilliam: Both of our novels are definitely having the same rageful conversation! As for Tiny Threads, I always knew I wanted to write a scary tale set in Vernon, California, an industrial city just outside of Los Angeles. Vernon has a population of roughly 200 residents. It’s mostly occupied with factories and has a sordid history of corruption and violence with corporations contaminating the surrounding neighborhoods. I would visit Vernon for sample sales and worked briefly there for a fashion brand. There’s a sense of bloodshed ingrained in the buildings and the soil that I wanted to write about.
Lilliam: Your novel centers on Dez Lane and her quest to be a fashion designer and how she goes about trying to secure an audience with a famous fashion editor. When she does, all hell breaks loose. What’s your relationship with fashion?
Delilah: I was told at age seven that I was too fat to be a ballerina or gymnast, while at twelve I received the message that I was sexy to adult men. Thus I spent most of my youth covering my body with ill-fitting clothes. I became a fan of What Not To Wear after my first child was born and started playing with colors and silhouettes and shoes. The closest I’ve come to understanding fashion is writing a comic inspired by Alexander McQueen’s Savage Beauty. I understand Dez’s ambition and tenacity but will never fully understand couture.
Delilah: So now I’m curious about your history with fashion, because Tiny Threads definitely taught me things I didn’t know!
Lilliam: I must see this comic book of yours! McQueen’s work was such an inspiration to me and I used the Savage Beauty exhibition book as part of my research when writing Tiny Threads. We both have such a fluctuating relationship to fashion. I grew up in the Bronx, New York at the beginning of hip hop. Everyone had style even if we barely had any money. My first career was as a fashion and entertainment editor and going after jobs at fashion lifestyle magazines were disturbing lessons in class and race, labels being pushed instead of style. But I do love fashion and obsess over the skill and technicality of creating wearable works of art. I hope my love came across in the novel.
Lilliam: When I was writing Tiny Threads, there was something very liberating in allowing my protagonist Samara to fall completely into pieces mentally. Readers are never quite sure what she’s truly seeing. In your novel, there’s no holding back the goriness of the violence inflicted. How did you take care of yourself when writing such horror or was it liberating to write such things?
Delilah: Oh, it was very liberating. Practically self care! A lot of my horror focuses on female rage. We are so helpless against most of the things that harm us, especially on a societal level. How many wealthy men in politics and culture are known for grooming and assaulting underage women, and yet their money and privilege allow them the freedom to continue causing harm? I can’t do much about that, but I can eviscerate them in print.
Delilah: My heart went out to Samara as she tried various ways to not only compete in a very challenging job but to also drown out the spirits soaking the land of Vernon. What kind of research was involved in crafting this setting of beautiful high rise buildings, high-energy fashion, and poisonous factories?
Lilliam: I read a lot about the history of California, digging into some questionably racist non fiction books. I also relied on the Autry Museum of the American West. They have a vast archive and have hosted brilliant exhibits about the fashion industry in the west, particularly in California. My character Samara is from Jersey so she’s really the reader’s guide to this unknown place that slowly unravels into a disturbing and nightmarish space, all mostly tied to history.
Lilliam: What was one scene or chapter that took you by surprise when you were writing it?
Delilah: The climax of the book, actually. I had no idea how it would end, only that it would come down to Dez being forced to make the ultimate choice.
Delilah: When you were writing Samara, was it clear to you what was real and what was chemical/metaphysical? What was your process like?
Lilliam: The only thing clear to me was that I wanted the story to detail a woman’s descent into alcoholism paralleled with the supernatural. I kept thinking of historical loops, how history repeats itself if we fail to see the signs. And with Samara, she is in such great denial, blocking out violent family secrets with alcohol. I’ve been sober for many years so the horror for me was remembering blackouts and big gaps of lost time and how that plays with what is real or imagined.
Delilah: I loved Samara’s interactions with Marisa Sol. Is she based on an actual artist or body of work? How did her character come to be?
Lilliam: I love that character! Marisa Sol is based off of two of my closest friends. They are both fearless and artistic, very rooted in being from California. Marisa Sol is so outspoken and loves her community. I love how she pushes Samara to see her questionable actions in a way she didn’t expect.
Lilliam: The horror category has always been led by mostly white men and so it’s amazing that we are both taking on this literary lane. Are there female authors that inspired you?
Delilah: So many! The first female-written horror book I actually read was Ghost Cat by Beverly Butler, which I bought at the Scholastic Book Fair. I moved on to VC Andrews and Mary Higgins Clark. I’m overjoyed to be part of the rising tide of female horror for adults– and kids and teens. I’m currently loving horror by Hailey Piper, Zoje Stage, Rachel Harrison, Kiersten White, Mona Awad, Cherie Priest, and Alma Katsu, and I’m a huge fan of Sadie Hartmann, aka Mother Horror, and the work she does getting the word out about all the latest horror stories.
Lilliam: So many great names like Kiersten White and Mona Awad on your list! I would love to add authors Fernanda Melchor, Samanta Schweblin, Augustina Bezterrica, and Mariana Enriquez. They are all such powerful Latina horror writers, with most of their works translated to English.
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Lilliam Rivera is the author of Tiny Threads, now available from Del Rey.
Delilah S. Dawson is the author of the new novel Guillotine, now available from Titan Publishing.
