Short.Sharp.Stories is a platform showcasing top and emerging South African fiction writers. The theme of this year’s anthology is Fluid – freedom to be. Fluid, this year’s Short.Sharp.Stories anthology, seeks to engage fictional expression around identity, culture and society.
Joanne Hichens conducts interviews with the respective short story writers.
Mini-interview with Yuwinn Kraukamp, author of the short story “iHeart you now and always”, featured in the 2023 Short.Sharp.Stories anthology, Fluid
Yuwinn Kraukamp, a former literature and linguistics student from the University of the Western Cape, is an aspiring writer from Bredasdorp. He’s an autodidact, a bilingual book-lover and a natural-born creative whose multidimensional writing talents range from radio dramas to short stories, freelance journalism and more. He’s a lifelong student and fan of all forms of art, and a firm believer in the beauty, magic and eternalness of the written word. He writes of his story, “iHeart you now and always”:
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I created a perfectly imperfect protagonist: an overly idealistic avatar of a dating app, forced to question his reality, his sexual settings and his humanity.
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I wanted to write about critical social issues, but in a light and humorous way that could effortlessly flow from page to page, without feeling like a sociopolitical analysis. So, I created a perfectly imperfect protagonist: an overly idealistic avatar of a dating app, who’s circumstantially forced to question his reality, his sexual settings and his humanity.
JH: What does it mean for you to be a “natural-born creative”?
YK: It means that writing and creativity are an integral and essential part of me. It’s in my blood, in my literal and figurative DNA. It’s something that I was placed on this earth to do. There’s an aspect of my creative capabilities and artistic intelligence that cannot be taught, quantified or duplicated.
JH: I love your confidence, but also the way you talk of the “magic and eternalness of the written word”. More specifically, what does this mean for you?
YK: It means that the relevance and the meaning of iconic words, written by literary innovators such as Hunter Thompson or William Blake, can still be found and appreciated decades after they were written. It means that when a book lover reads a sentence or a scene that’s written in just the right way, at the right time, then those words can have the power to change the entire way that person sees their world.
JH: And what specifically attracts you to the short story form?
YK: My preferred genre is crime fiction, specifically the noir and black comedy subgenres. There’s always a multilayered mystery at the heart of these genres, which as a reader one subconsciously tries to untangle. Every character is under suspicion, and every action may be a clue.
As for writing short stories, it’s been an excellent way of experimenting with different writing styles and genres that I wasn’t inherently drawn to. For instance, in the beginning I thought my niche would be writing crime fiction, but through experimenting and exploring with different creative approaches and voices, I have taught myself (in part) how to write romance and comedy, which were genres that were unapproachable to me.
JH: I appreciate the fact that you’ve experimented and practised with different genres. Has it been hard work? Or fun?
YK: It’s been a bit of both, and honestly, I truly believe that writing should be a balance between both. Writing is a passion-driven art form, but at the end of the day it’s still a job, so at times it needs to be difficult. There are going to be sleepless nights and pressing deadlines, as well as the hours of research and reading you have to do – and especially the editing process, which will sometimes feel torturous and unending.
JH: Getting to your short story, would you describe it as a particular genre? Is it essentially a tale of a star-crossed love? How do you see the fluidity aspect of the story?
YK: The protagonist in my short story is an animated avatar of a dating/matchmaking app. He, Harrison iHeart, is a hopeless romantic, primarily because he was programmed to believe in romantic tropes: love at first sight, soul mates, etc. But those beliefs also came with gender norms and restrictions that were programmed into Harrison, when it came to the physical features of his potential soulmate. During the short story, my idealistic protagonist goes on an unintended and unsafe adventure to find his potential soulmate, but his interactions and his struggles during that journey force him to question the particulars and pragmatism of love, including questions around the people who programmed him to recognise love within only one gender.
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Imagine the app designers as an extended metaphor for the “decision makers”, the institutions of power, who design all the literal and unwritten rules that we follow.
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Imagine the app designers as an extended metaphor for the “decision makers”, the institutions of power, who design all the literal and unwritten rules that we follow. The inherent settings that the protagonist has, are the societal beliefs and norms and stereotypes that are “programmed” into us. So, it’s fluidity within gender norms (specifically breaking away from the toxic ones) as well as the prerequisites for romance and the limitlessness of love.
JH: Your characters as well as your writing are engaging, with an innate humour in the story. Do you enjoy writing comedy?
YK: I don’t think of myself as someone who’s inherently funny, but as a writer I truly respect the element of comedy in writing. If you think about it, it takes talent to take something ordinary and monotonous that people see every day – a political statement or religious folktale, for instance – and reshape it into something that not only makes your reader see it in a new light, but also gives them a lasting laugh.
JH: You show consummate knowledge of IT and AI. Is the “computer” knowledge natural to you? And here’s a biggie: with the arrival of ChatGPT, do you regard this as a threat to creative writing?
YK: The computer-generated protagonist in my short story suffers from a terminal and digital disease called “virtual trauma”, which is essentially a viral infection. So, researching malware technology – the correct terminology for the causes of such computer glitches and the exterior signs of them – was an area where I did significant research. The rest of my short story, which revolves around the lives of animated apps and programs, was influenced by my own experiences: my own mishaps, shortcomings and fears, both online and especially in real life.
While writing my short story, I used an AI art app to design illustrations based on my story. I used words that described my story and typed them into the app, and it created frighteningly accurate images based on those words. It occurred to me that apps like this essentially could make the graphic designing profession moot and expendable. It further occurred to me that if it could happen to graphic designers – who are in a career equally based on creativity – then perhaps it could happen to writers, too. Perhaps ChatGPT is a start to the extermination of the artist (and the creative). But I hope not!
JH: As a young South African writer, what would you say are your expectations and challenges?
YK: Our fundamental challenge is that the creative industry is not seen in the same respectful light that other South African industries are regarded in. This is especially true for those who are starting out in the creative industry. The desire to become a fashion designer or study the arts, is in many cases discouraged from the get-go. I’m an example of that. Socially and from a parental perspective, pursuing creative careers was seen as impractical and valueless compared with other professions. My parents, as well as the people in my surroundings, wanted me to become a teacher or municipal employee; so, becoming a professional creative in a town that frowned upon anything that deviated from the accepted normality was a complete one-eighty.
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Our fundamental challenge is that the creative industry is not seen in the same respectful light that other South African industries are regarded in.
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Other significant challenges include the lack of growth opportunities for career creatives, which could possibly be implemented/achieved through intercontinental exchange programmes between writers from different nations and backgrounds. There is also the lack of state-level funding (financial support) for creative and art-based education. Fundamentally, the lack of community-oriented encouragement and development for youths from minority groups who have promising creative talents is also a challenge.
JH: From a person who not only aspires to creativity but wants to push the boundaries of creativity, what tip would you offer to emerging writers?
YK: You need to commit to your art and believe in it, which is far easier said than done. Doing this requires sacrifices, some of which are financial in nature. Be daring when you write; mix opposing genres, give your protagonists flaws and disorders, give your serial killers weird backstories.
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You need to commit to your art and believe in it, which is far easier said than done. [...] You need to retain healthy mindfulness and an eagerness to learn.
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Most of all, you need to practise and practise your craft every single day, before you can even come close to perfecting it; it’s a bit of a cliché, but it’s absolutely true for any vocation. You need to retain healthy mindfulness and an eagerness to learn. Never say no to a learning experience. Everyone and everything has the potential to inspire that one breathtaking story you’ve been waiting your whole life to write.
JH: What’s it been like being part of Short.Sharp.Stories?
YK: It’s been a fantastic creative adventure. This writing opportunity started with a given theme, which pushed and challenged my creative mindset to narrow in on that particular idea/subject. I had to find a way to interpret the theme of fluidity and freedom in the best possible way, which originally produced three different short stories. All in all, it was an anxious but absolutely thrilling process. It’s the sort of thing I live for and would do again in a heartbeat.
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