Tell us about The Immortals of Tehran.

There’s a family in this novel under an age-old curse. Every other son in the family dies young, and the other lives as if forever. We follow the life of Ahmad, one of the apparent immortals, from WWII to the Iranian Revolution of 1979. Ahmad loses his voice at the beginning of the novel, but even speechless he becomes a very famous poet in the country. He writes poetry so brilliant it literally gives off light. But humans aren’t the only players in the revolution game. The novel also implies that whatever happened in contemporary Iran was the doing of cats.

Do you have a bird story or favorite feathered friend?

My brother loved chickens when he was little. He would ask my mother to buy him a chick or two almost every summer when school was closed. He fed them and watched them peck at the dirt in the flower beds. The chickens would spend the night under a large basket in the storage room in the corner of the yard. The door had to be closed tight at night or else cats were sure to sneak in and try to get their paws under the basket. Someone had to watch over the chicks during the day whenever they were in the yard because when the sun was up, the crows were up, and they were hungry, too. But as long as my brother was in the yard playing with the chicks, the rest of the family could busy themselves with what they had to do inside.

One day he was playing with his chick, and we were in. It was a quiet summer afternoon. My mother was in the kitchen. I don’t remember what I was doing, but at some point, I decided to step into the yard, and I saw my brother squatting quietly there by the faucet with his back to me, his whole attention on what he was doing. When I got closer I saw him meticulously washing the chick under a trickle of water. With its wet feathers stuck to its tiny body, the chick peeped in my brother’s small palm. Soon my mom came to the rescue. She dried the bird with a towel and then blow-dried its feathers. Contrary to my expectations, the chick lived.

What is your most memorable reading experience?

I was a child, and I had read Astrid Lindgren’s Mio, My Son several times. I was intrigued by the fantastic world of the novel, the invisibility cape, the flying horse, and the spoon that magically filled itself with scrumptious food. Walking past a movie theater with my aunt and cousin one day, I saw photos that struck me as weirdly familiar. In those days, theaters used to pin photos from the movies to boards outside of the theater as advertisements. The white horse, the metallic hand of the villain, and the dark, black castle in the dark mountains all looked familiar. I remember we couldn’t watch the movie then (I don’t remember what my aunt told me), and I never got to watch it afterward either. For years I regretted missing my chance. I found it on the internet recently, but I haven’t dared watch. I’m afraid it may ruin my childhood memories of the book.

What makes you most excited about The Immortals of Tehran?

Many things. I’m especially excited about it getting translated into other languages. The Dutch translation is coming out in fall 2020, and the Arabic is in the works. To use Rebecca Walkowitz’s term, The Immortals is a novel “born translated.” I wrote it in English, which is not my native language. It’s fascinating to me to see it travel into other cultures. I wonder how readers of various backgrounds will react to it.

To tweet or not to tweet?

This may or may not shed some light on this issue: After thinking about the question for a few days, I just tweeted that I’m stuck at this question.

What books do you have in your bag right now?

I’m reading a bunch of books at the same time these days: Haruki Murakami’s IQ84 (trans. Jay Rubin and Philip Gabriel) and Wolfgang Borchert’s collection of short stories, The Man Outside, (trans. David Porter). On the poetry front, I have some Rilke on my bedside table: Duino Elegies and Sonnets to Orpheus (both translated by C.F. MacIntyre). A little farther away The Complete Poems of Elizabeth Bishop sits on my desk, but I’m not sure when I’ll get to it. I’m also reading on the Iran-Iraq war of 1980-1988.

Can you tell us your favorite rejection story?

This is not a rejection story but the whole rejection story for me. I didn’t know much about this concept before I came to the US. I had gotten accepted to good schools and published a number of books, both translation and original work, and I worked as an English teacher back in Iran. When I started applying to MFA programs and later, when I was in the US, submitting my work to journals, the rejections began to come. It was incomprehensible for a while. I just couldn’t fathom how it was possible for people or institutions (magazines, universities, etc.) not to accept me or my work. Soon after, though, I reshaped my worldview: In this new world, rejection was the norm, interrupted only by rare acceptances.

What literary journals do you love?

I’m going to mention some journals that are doing great work in translation because I think it’s important to acknowledge their work: Asymptote, Two Lines, Exchanges, and Words Without Borders.

What shakes your tail feathers?

Walking. In a busy neighborhood of a big city. Preferably not just for the sake of walking but to go from point A to B, from home to work, from work to a gallery, from the insurance company office to the dentist’s. And in the meantime watching life go by as people buy stuff from shops and go about on sidewalks, as cars veer in the streets.

What advice do you have for fledgling writers?

Persevere. Write like there’s no tomorrow. Then write again. Because there may be a tomorrow

What other eggs do you have in your basket right now?

I’m working on my comprehensive exam, reading on world literature, translation theory, and  digital humanities. I’m also working to create a database that catalogues data about Persian literature translated into English. It’s called Persian, Translated. Last but not least, I have my second novel to get to. It’s been brewing for some time. I’m hoping to begin as soon as I’m done with some urgent school work.