Sam Simas Interviews Acre Author Malia Márquez, Author of THIS FIERCE BLOOD

SS: One of the most wonderful aspects of the book is the delicate layering of time. As a result, the scope of the novel is wide, rich, and multi-generational. Why do you think this was the best temporal structure for the novel? What was it like for you to manage these different points in time?

MM: I started this project wanting to explore a couple of things:

1. Time’s limits and limitlessness with regards to epigenetic inheritance and ancestral lineage – specifically the communication and passing on of information that transcends chronological, material time.
2. Aspects of my family and ancestral history from a feminist perspective – which for me does not mean focusing on so-called “women’s stories,” but rather centering a perspective that equally values qualities such as the emotional and the rational, the embodied and the intellectual, the material and the spiritual, micro and macro. I knew that, to include these multiple generations, I would need to span a large swath of time, which turned out to be about a century.

Writing it became an exercise of weaving time’s connections – where and how would each main character’s story inform the others if time could be viewed as circular rather than linear? I actually originally wrote the book with the three main POVs (Mina, Josepa, & Magda) in alternating chapters, and later separated it into three distinct chronological sections. This drastic structural change made all the difference in terms of readability, but I don’t think it would have had the delicate layering (as you so kindly put it) if I had originally written it that way.

Managing the different points in time was challenging. For example, reconciling events in characters’ lives with world events, and choosing which contextual happenings to focus on. I could not include everything that happened over the course of a hundred years, so had to make choices and simplify. It was a process that was at times frustrating yet ultimately satisfying, like cleaning out the closet. Also a challenge was access to more or less detailed information for different time periods. I personally know more about 2016 than 1900, but I actually preferred the more objective experience of writing about the early 1900s.

SS: As I read, I was struck by your bold treatment of sexuality in an historical period. I particularly appreciated how Mina’s relationship with Johannes suggests that the arrangement of marriage was, and perhaps is, necessary to survival. But, unfortunately, survival is not enough for them; they both struggle to flourish emotionally in the face of material scarcity and security. Interestingly, Mina graciously accepts Johannes and his lover. How do you envision the importance of intervening in historical settings to expand our view of relationships and sexuality? How much latitude do you think authors should exercise when working with historical periods?

As a queer person from a family that I might glibly describe as full of a variety of queerness (as well as, of course, prejudice) – past, present and future –  I was interested in exploring sexuality and gender as constantly evolving ideologies. How they are or can be or are allowed to be expressed in any given time and culture. I wanted to honor the ways in which different expressions of ‘non-straightness’ have been or may have been subtly protected and perhaps even nurtured in the past, as well as the ways it was condemned and oppressed. And I wanted to explore scenarios in which queerness and gender fluidity have quietly endured and been supported in times and places when it was not acceptable in mainstream society, such as in families and communities in which individual people and relationships were valued over systemic ideals, and in which “making it work” was, as you mentioned, essential to survival.

I think my approach to this novel could be described as a bit tall tale-ish insofar as there are intentional exaggerations and embellishments of characters and events as well as magical elements. For this reason, I felt pretty comfortable creating a world in which there is tolerance around sexual orientation within close, loving relationships and friendships – but it never actually (in my opinion) goes beyond the realm of what actually may have been possible. Johannes never publicly comes out, and he and Mina and their family and friends maintain the cover of the marriage to the extent that later generations (William) never knew certain things about his parentage which I will not reveal here for spoiler considerations. I think the principle of  ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ long precedes the introduction of that policy to the US military, and that in the past it allowed for the creation of individualized approaches to relationship such as women-companions-who-live-together (are they lesbians or just good friends?), the so-called lavender marriages of golden age Hollywood, and other unique situations.

As for my opinion regarding general latitude around intervening in a fictional past with scenarios that might come across as fantastical, utopian, or idealized – I really think it depends on context and how it’s presented. There’s a whole debate around this with Bridgerton and whether it’s irresponsible to represent racial relations not as they actually were in what seems like a recognizable time period… I think Bridgerton is pure fantasy. I also think engaging in a narrative that suggests a more positive (albeit inaccurate) reframing of the past could be viewed as an exercise with a lot of potential for healing so long as it’s not considered to be a (whitewashed) version of actual history.

Malia Márquez was born in New Mexico and grew up in New England. She holds a BFA in 3D Fine Arts and an MFA in Creative Writing. Author of This Fierce Blood (2021) and City of Smoke and Sea (2025), her work has also been published in Poetry Magazine, Hobart, and elsewhere. She lives in Los Angeles and teaches fiction writing with the UCLAx Writers’ Program.

Sam (he/him) is a queer Luso-American writer and translator. His work has appeared in New England Review, Copper Nickel, Southern Indiana Review, Hunger Mountain, and other literary magazines; his writing has been nominated for several awards and has won Copper Nickel’s Editor’s Prize for Prose, as well as first-place in CRAFT Literary’s First Chapters Contest. In 2024, he was awarded a Luso-American Fellowship to attend DISQUIET International. Sam is a PhD student in fiction at the University of Cincinnati.