"We are partners in life and in writing. And the freedom to create what we want is the pillar of a happy life for us," say Klukovina authors Eva and Klára Pospíšilová
Eva and Klára Pospíšilová are one of the most prominent couples in contemporary Czech queer literature. Partners in life and work, they have established a strong place in the young adult and queer romance scene over the past few years - thanks to their sensitive style, authentic dialogue and courage to write about issues that are often bypassed elsewhere. In their work, they show that young adult literature doesn't just have to be about romance, but also about fragility, morality, guilt, and hope. Their new book, Boyhood, reissued by Host, builds thematically on their previous book but takes their writing to darker and more layered levels. The pair, who write alternately through the eyes of two characters, remain true to their manuscript - honest, raw and emotionally precise. In an interview with LUI, they talk about the genesis of the new book, the search for the boundaries between sensitivity and authenticity, and what it's like to share not only a home but also stories that often reflect life itself.
Your new book, Boyhood, is thematically and stylistically related to Nocturne for Erik, but at the same time feels more mature, layered, and perhaps even dark. How did you think of this book in the very beginning - as a continuation of a particular authorial lineage, or as a standalone project that simply called to you?
Klara: We like to ask questions that test our own worldview and also our morals. And Klukovina was born out of one such question. In the end, the whole book is based on that random question. Every once in a while, a story comes along that we need to tell. We can't think of anything else, it hits us so hard. It's a strong, almost lifelong need to record certain events.
Eva: But basically, Boyhood is a continuation of our previous work. We usually branch out in terms of genre, or what kind of readership we're writing for in terms of age, but at the core we're true to what we started with a few years ago - we write stories about boys and try to make their characters multi-layered. Because it's not fair to define characters by their orientation alone.
The cover of the book, designed by Dana Lédl, is very striking at first glance and evokes the atmosphere of the story even before the reader opens the first page. How important is the visual aspect of a book to you, and how do you as authors enter into the process of creating the cover?
Eva: We greatly admire the work of Dana Ledl, or Myokard. Her visuals are distinctive and original, you just can't blend in with someone else's style. A few years ago, she drew illustrations for short story collections to which we contributed a story - that's how we got to know her work. She also did the cover for our book Summer Storms, which was published by Yoli.
Klara: We came up with the idea of her doing the cover for Klukovina, and Host agreed. The assignment was loose and our only requirement was that if she was going to draw the characters on the cover, she couldn't see their faces. Although we describe the main characters in the books, we like to leave room for the reader's imagination. And with Boyhood, the fact that Michael has his back turned and Gabriel can't be seen in the eyes has, of course, another meaning that is directly related to the story.
Eva: So you could say that we were able to enter the process by choosing the illustrator and not interfering more, because it completely exceeded our expectations.
At the beginning of the book you already point out themes such as bullying, physical violence, coercion or explicit scenes. It feels like you want to prepare the reader right away that this time it's not just about romance, but also about quite serious topics. Why was it important for you to include these warnings in the book, and how did you strike a balance between openness and sensitivity in handling them?
Klara: We personally don't like warnings in books because they are often very detailed and give away the plot. But at the same time, we understand that it's important to prepare the reader for the fact that there might be something in the story that will make them uncomfortable. After all, each person has a different sensitivity, a different life experience. We were looking for a compromise between drawing attention to difficult topics and not taking everything literally. Moments of surprise are also important in Boyhood.
Eva: In terms of the actual processing, we sometimes have themes in the stories that - again, due to different sensibilities and experiences - may not suit everyone. We ourselves rely on our own sensitivity and perception when writing. If it seems to us that a given scene or event has to be such and such, we write it that way. The moment an author starts censoring his own writing, it doesn't do any good. We want to be authentic and honest in our stories, even at the cost of being too much for some people.
The book's plot begins in a school setting and a volunteer event at a shelter - a setting that has something "American" about it, but also feels believable. Why did you choose this setting and what allowed you to tell the story of the characters and their relationships?
Eva: We were aiming to show Michael, who is the focus of the first chapter, as a guy who does good things too. He's just not black and white, he's not inherently evil, and the involuntary volunteer event at the shelter planned by the school serves as one of many situations that points that out. Michael is a privileged kid who seemingly has it all, yet (as he puts it) isn't an asshole every second, even if he wouldn't have chosen such an activity on his own.
The main characters Michael and Gabriel are contrasting in every way, from their personalities to their manner of expression to their aesthetics of life. How did you divide these characters between each other, and how did you go about shaping them so that each of "your guys" sounded authentic and had their own voice?
Klara: The contrast is quite common in our characters, but it's not usually by design. We think it comes naturally, where we subconsciously try to create a counterpoint for the other person's character.
Eva: Since we had a basic premise for Boyhood that came from the random question, we knew that one of us would write a guy who is a jerk at the beginning and the other a guy who is deeply affected by the other's behavior. These were the basic pillars for our division. But in all the years we've been writing together, I don't think there's ever been a time when we've disagreed about our choice of guys. Each of us automatically gravitated toward one of them.
Clara: I can think of one more thing, and that is that Michael and Gabriel are quite possibly not that contrasting, or rather they weren't originally. The contrast was created by Michael himself by the way he dehumanized Gabriel.
In previous interviews, you've described your unique way of writing, where you each "take" one character and alternate chapters. Was that true without fail with Boyhood, or were you looking for a slightly different way to collaborate this time around to fit the different tone of the story?
Eva: We've had some stories where we've borrowed side characters as they've appeared in both characters' chapters. But you don't touch the main characters. But we have to admit that the longer we live and write together, the more our voices blend. At this point, we can guess what the other character would say, how they would react, and so on. If we had to, we could substitute for each other, but we just don't. The magic would be gone for us.
Michael's world is very distinctly built - just his "garage" aesthetic with the Kawasaki Ninja next to the Porsche Taycan says a lot about him before he speaks. What all did you want to suggest to the reader through these details, and why is this "equipment" of characters so important to you?
Eve: Michael is one of the most complicated characters for us, precisely because of the development he goes through during the course of the book. At the beginning, we asked ourselves the question of what to build him through and how to build him up, what impression to give the reader of him, and what he should be in his reflections. And we came to the conclusion that he's very distinctive on the outside - by what he has, by how he acts, by who he surrounds himself with. But internally he is basically quite poor, almost in contrast to the expensive things he owns.
Clara: Up until a certain point, when his conscience awakens in him, Michael doesn't possess any significant internal compass that alerts him to what's wrong and what's not. Maybe what we were trying to tell the reader is that there's a lot going on in his life on the outside, but not on the inside. Michael is unaffected and unencumbered in the early chapters. It's almost close to lethargy, which in this case comes from comfort.
Gabriel's inner world, on the other hand, is introverted, anxious and very digital - his streaming through the fishbowl has something both poetic and unsettling about it. Where was this motif born and how did you approach his character to capture the generational experience of loneliness and the search for safety in the online space?
Klara: With Gabriel, we felt it was particularly important to show that he doesn't stand out in any significant way. He also thinks of himself as a guy who is pretty normal. I think he even thinks in one scene that there are more "suitable targets", people who could serve to amuse Michael (and then he is ashamed of that thought). Yet there must be something wrong with him, and just because he can't see it doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
Eve: Seeking safety in the online space, then, is just the logical outgrowth of his loneliness. Even though he doesn't talk to the people who are watching him while he's streaming, they make him feel like he's sharing something with someone. The online space creates an illusion of safety; it is much easier to leave than a face-to-face meeting - just log out and close the computer. Sometimes it can be the only thing we have control over while everything else is falling apart.
As you read, the rhythmic contrast between the chapters is clear: Michael's sections are brisk, social, and turned "outward" while Gabriel's are directed "inward" and have an almost obsessive sense of time and space. How did you fine-tune this contrast so that the two voices remained distinct and yet the narrative held together?
Eve: I think we've opened this up a bit in previous answers, but the moment we really got to know both boys, it came naturally. We didn't have to keep them on a tight leash or overly control them. The moment you see the characters as real human beings and not just figures being dragged through the plot, everything becomes easier. We're always trying to view individual situations from their perspective and personal development instead of bending them to our will just because it suits us to make them react in some way.
Klara: It's our way of storytelling and the core of our work. Knowing those we write about. We create plot and situations through characters, not the other way around. In some ways, it ties our hands because we come up with situations that end up with the idea too, since we know for a fact that our character wouldn't do that. There's no train going through it. But the moment we can push her through the way she is, the story repays us with more plasticity and believability. But then you also need a publisher and editor who understands and respects that process. Boyhood would never have stood up if Host had the need to cut it short.
When you started writing queer romance, did you have a clear idea of who your reader was? And has your perception of your audience changed now that you've had successes like Nocturne and a community of readers who are clearly very much alive with you?
Clara: I think our idea of readers back then was that they were like us - we wrote what we wanted to read. Writing with the target reader in mind sounds a bit too expedient in some ways; the author is tying himself down. Moreover, we now know that defining a target audience for our books is perhaps impossible. Even though we always choose two boys as protagonists, our texts change. Some are strictly young adult, some are new adult, we even have an adult novel. And the genres change with it.
Eva: The people who read us not only in paper, but also in the online space where we normally publish (we have Forendors, which is a paid platform, and also a website where stories are published for free), vary. They are a variety of ages, male and female, from teens to retired readers. Some read randomly their favorite genre, some read everything we write. It's very diverse. But to answer your question, our perceptions haven't really changed. We still write with the mindset that the target audience is you and me, and really anyone. The people who have found their way to us - and some have really been with us from the very beginning - are amazing. You can really talk about community.
You also work openly with intimate and explicit scenes, which is still not completely obvious in the Czech context. Do you have any "unwritten rules" between you, where are the boundaries beyond which you wouldn't go as an author? And how do you know if a scene is written exactly as it should be?
Eva: Yes, in just one of our first conversations I think we said that it bothers us when some books pretend that teenage boys don't masturbate. The same is true of girls, of course, but we'd be talking in general terms. Intimacy is part of interpersonal relationships. Of course, some people can only experience it emotionally, that's fine, but it's not necessary to deliberately leave it out of stories for teens. We haven't set any rules in that regard. Rules bring with them limitations, and we rely a lot on our own sensibilities when we create characters. We have stories where there are characters who are just finding themselves, dealing with other issues in their lives, the culmination of their relationship with another person is simple closeness and a kiss, for example. We have stories where sex is an integral part of the relationship, serving in part as a denouement, or where it complicates things right at the beginning and then the protagonists walk the path from physical to emotional bonding. And we also have stories that are dark, in which sex serves as a tool for manipulation, for example.
Klara: The fact that a scene is written exactly as it should be is confirmed by the emotions you experience when reading it. This is one of the many advantages of writing for two. You get completely honest feedback immediately. Basically, it doesn't matter if you're describing an intimate and explicit scene, an argument, a confession, a difficult situation, problems with your parents, a life obstacle... It has to evoke emotion. You must not feel after reading it that you have just chewed a shopping list and nothing is left in you.
With Nocturne, you had a playlist that was literally bursting with lyrics. In Boyhood, the music is less noticeably present, but still felt in the mood of the scenes. When you write, does the music help you "sonically" define the emotions of the characters, or is it more of a tool to tune yourself into the mood of the story?
Eva: Whenever. Sometimes music is a tool to tune ourselves into certain scenes, to help us get into those scenes better. For example, in Boyhood, there's an entire chapter that focuses on Michael being drunk in a club. That chapter combines his muddled, alcohol-fogged thinking, and continually the lyrics of the song that's playing in the club seep in. Michael's drunken brain holds on to the melody and words even when something else starts playing. The repetitive lyrics show his own stuckness. And right at that chapter, I listened to that song over and over again until I hated it and it was creeping me out, but I couldn't stop. It helped me stay in the scene.
Clara: But then there are also stories that we need to write in silence. That silence replaces the music, helps us get back to completely different emotions and thoughts and put them on the page. The beautiful thing is that even if you plan to write a given chapter with music or, conversely, in silence, the story will ask for it and you as the author have to adapt. In Nocturne for Erik, the music naturally created a contrast to the silence, whereas with Boyhood we only associate a few songs. Sometimes it's a great stimulus, a good song can stir emotions that you then "pour" into the story, sometimes it's distracting.
There are often contrasts in your books - wealth versus fragility, popularity versus loneliness, power versus tenderness. Is this a conscious authorial intention for you to create tension and depth, or does it come naturally with the characters?
Eva: We've already touched on this a bit in one answer, but it's probably that we sometimes tend to create a contrast to the character the other is writing. However, such contrasts arise more subconsciously, without any deeper intention. Many times we ourselves are surprised by how contrasting the characters are, but that doesn't mean that we want to forcefully change them so that they don't come across that way. And in fact, that's not even the case in all the stories.
Klara: When we get two really diametrically opposed boys in the writing process, it's all the more fun to bring them together, to discover those seemingly invisible likes and dislikes and qualities that they actually share. Maybe just a way of thinking about something or showing fragility in a situation where no one would expect it. In the end, we are always subconsciously looking for that similarity, no matter how different they are at the beginning.
Eva: Yes, I guess what we're saying is that it's about uncovering the little things that connect them, rather than leading them to love someone they have nothing in common with. They say opposites attract, but what works for us in a relationship, for example, is that we're similar in many ways.
There is often talk about who has the "right" to tell certain stories. As two women and partners, you write queer romance with male protagonists and have long found your own way in it. How do you feel about this debate today - has anything in your writing changed under the influence of these debates, or do you deliberately keep to your natural way of writing?
Klara: After five years since the first book was published, when we answered the question of whether we would start writing female protagonists/why we don't write female protagonists about a hundred times, we can say with peace of mind that we are keeping our natural way of writing and we don't intend to change it in the future. We promised ourselves - and each other - from the beginning that writing is a completely free activity for us, and it is that freedom to write whatever we want that is the pillar of a happy life for us.
Eva: Of course, there have been a few people in the past who have wondered about this or felt the need to comment in any way. Even now, I believe there are readers who won't give our stories a chance precisely because two women are writing about men. However, the overwhelming majority of those who have written to us say that the actions of our characters are believable, that they even match their experience. We were once asked how we would like it if a man wrote about two women. I guess we would like it if it was a good story. (Laughter) It has to do with the freedom I mentioned. When we choose a book, it doesn't matter to us if the feelings of the main character/heroine are described by a woman/man. All that matters is whether the story engulfs us, whether we want to live with the character until the last page, and whether maybe a piece of us will still be there after we finish reading. Whether a man can afford to describe the inner feelings of a woman, or a woman can afford to describe the inner feelings of a man, should not be part of a discussion about literature at all.
Your creative process is very close - you share a household, characters, stories, and even daily rituals. When you spend so much time together, not only professionally but also personally, what's most important to you to keep that line between work and personal from dissolving completely?
Eva: The fact that we found each other, fell in love with each other and also have a dream together is the most wonderful thing that could have happened to us. Even if we don't see it purely emotionally, but also more pragmatically, it makes so many things easier. For example, dissecting the sex scenes of the characters you're writing is so much easier when you're talking about it with the person you're having sex with. There's no shame or taboo in our relationship, we can discuss absolutely anything together.
Clara: The line between work and private has long since disappeared, if it ever did. Writing is not work for us, it's fulfilling a shared dream. We don't mind discussing it at any time. We don't say it's four o'clock in the afternoon, so we're done. It's an integral part of our lives. We spend time together just by inventing, creating and writing together.
Eva: But at the same time, of course, not everything has to do with stories. We do what all couples do. We go to the cinema, we cook together, we figure out what we need to pay when, sometimes we just hang out in front of the TV... And we also take care of two dogs, that takes up quite a lot of our time.
Clara: The most beautiful thing is that for some almost incomprehensible reason we never get fed up with each other. (laughs)
In interviews you often mention that one of you is "the one who pulls" and the other "the one who brakes". What was your dynamic in writing Boyhood - who was the dramaturg of rhythm this time, and who was the one who reminded you to breathe as well?
Eva: With Boyhood, I think it all went a little bit wrong because it was one of those stories where we had an almost visceral need to write it. We were both dragging, and on top of that we fell into a kind of madness. The need to tell the story overcame everything.
If this interview were being read by someone who was themselves going through a period of bullying, peer pressure, or feeling like they didn't fit in - themes that come up in the book - what is one small gesture or thought you would want to convey to them through Boyhood?
Eve: It's not your fault. There's nothing wrong with you. Don't let the people who hurt you determine the direction your life takes. Talk to someone who can help you, and if that person doesn't hear you, talk again. Please don't stop looking for your voice. You deserve to be heard. You are not alone in this.
Where would you like to move to as an author? Do you have a theme in mind that is still "maturing" or are you leaving room for a new story to surprise you once again?
Eva: We have a lot of topics waiting for our turn, for something to come to us - even if it's just a detail - that will make us start writing immediately. These are topics of various genres and themes. We've been asked a few times by family members if we'll ever write a mystery. So yes, we plan to, as soon as an interesting case comes up. Just count on the fact that there will probably be two investigators who will become close over the course. (laughs)
Klara: Our next heavy contemporary, Eli, will be published by Host next year. By having most of our stories originally published online, we already have reader feedback in advance, we know how they liked the story and what it meant to them. Even so, waiting for the wider public and readership to accept it is always a bit of a nerve-wracking experience. As an author, you hope it never comes to the point where others stop caring about your stories.
Eva: We're very interested in character psychology and dialogue, and we want to try a bunch of new genres and different approaches. Basically, we don't know quite where we want to go, but we know we want to move.
Clara: Writing and inventing stories is a process. We love creating and exploring more and more worlds. We've lived so many lives through our characters and we just hope there are more to come, that we keep writing for as long as we can. And of course, as long as we enjoy it, that's probably the only condition. But do you think you'll ever stop enjoying it?
Eva: No.
Clara: Me neither.
