In our first conversation, Adeyemi had said The Siren might be her last book—that she might be finished with writing altogether. “You can depart from all these previous eras of your life with a gentle sort of ruthlessness,” she said, “and then tomorrow can actually be a new day.” Now, she seems reenergized by the idea of work, telling me that she’s met children’s literacy organizations that try to inspire kids with the work of James Baldwin, Octavia Butler, and herself. “I’m proud of writing this from a really hard time and place,” she says, “and I wanna continue Emery’s journey.”
I ask her what changed between that interview and this one. Her smile freezes; she laughs awkwardly before hesitantly replying, “I think it’s interesting talking to you in the summer and then talking to you post this tour. I don’t know how the piece will end up, since you’re getting two very distinct cross sections.”
She takes another beat. “So that quote felt more… there was more of a resonance the first time we spoke. As I’m sitting here with you now, I just have a vision of myself writing deeply.”
The time between our talks seems to have given her space for deep reflection. I remind Adeyemi what she’d told me about feeling more like a jungle cat than a houseplant, and ask if she felt she had to be a jungle cat during her journey with the Blood and Bone film. “I think all women have to be in tune with their power. I think Black women have to be in tune with their power, dark-skinned Black women especially,” she answers. “There’s a sense of gravity that wouldn’t have been there without knowing what it is to step into my power and voice. You owe it to yourself to feel safe, and if you’re the only one there to defend yourself, you have to have the claws.”
