How to pronounce Emma Pattee: em-ma pa-TEE
A Q&A with author Emma Pattee about her novel, Tilt
What inspired you to write about a catastrophic earthquake in Portland as the backdrop for Annie's story?
When I was seven months pregnant, I was shopping for a crib at the IKEA in Portland and the building started to shake. The first thought in my mind was that it was the Cascadia earthquake, which is overdue to hit the Pacific Northwest.
It wasn't an earthquake; it was actually a large truck driving by. As soon as I realized I was safe, the idea for the book appeared in my mind.
Annie's pregnancy adds a unique layer of vulnerability to her character. Why did you choose to make her pregnant, and how did that enrich the story for you?
There are so many fascinating ways that a pregnancy and a long-awaited earthquake mirror each other. Pregnancy forces us out of our comfortable, controlled lives and into a more vulnerable position. Like an earthquake. We need others when we're pregnant. Like an earthquake. Pregnancy is also something we can never really prepare for, no matter how much we try and how many things we buy. Like an earthquake!
How much research went into the seismic realities and science behind the disaster? Did you learn anything that surprised you?
Because this is a real earthquake I'm writing about, in a real city, it was important to me to be as factually accurate as possible. Every street I mention in the book is real; most of the places I describe are real. The length and severity of the shaking, the devastation of the city, the conditions of streets and bridges, the failure of the power grid and cell towers, the outmatched official response, the danger of brick buildings, the risk of gas fires—the earthquake, as Annie experiences it, is as accurate as something that hasn't happened yet can be.
I also had several geologists and structural engineers review the book for accuracy, and I did first-person interviews with first responders who were on-site in China and in Kashmir trying to rescue children from collapsed schools. I also had the opportunity to attend a training day with the Portland NET team (we have the largest network of emergency volunteers in the country!) and see firsthand what a rescue scene might look like.
Was there a particular moment in the book that was especially difficult to write? Why?
The most difficult scene in the book was the scene that takes place at the elementary school. Not only was it technically challenging to accurately show how a large brick school would collapse from an earthquake, it also was emotionally challenging as Annie and Taylor are each having such intense but very different experiences. As a mother, the terror that those parents must have been feeling was unimaginable to me, and yet as the writer, I had to imagine it. I would edit the draft by hand, and sometimes the pages would just be soaked in tears.
Did you draw inspiration from your own life for any of the themes or characters in Tilt?
I see Annie's journey as one of isolation and disappointment to connection and awe. In the beginning of the book, she is alone, unhappy in her marriage, and feels like nothing is going right. By the end of the book, she feels profoundly connected, not only with her unborn child but with Taylor, with her mother, and with her husband. She also has let go of some of the disappointment and regret that is keeping her so stuck. In the beginning of the book, she can't stop looking backward. By the end, she is looking forward. She is ready to face the rest of her life.
Annie and I are very different people. But I relate to her journey. I spent my twenties feeling isolated and like my life had not turned out the way I wanted. Part of growing up was having my own "tilt" moment, when I realized that being alive is a miracle, and being alive with others—getting to laugh and talk and be connected—is the greatest miracle.
How did growing up in Portland influence your choice of location for the novel?
In Portland, we live under the anxiety of the earthquake. A disaster coming sometime in the future. But Portland is also a city—like many cities—profoundly shaped by class and money and unmet artistic dreams. I wanted to write about the experience of growing up in a place where you're suddenly priced out. You're holding on by your fingernails just to keep living in your hometown. In the years I spent writing the book, I kept having to go back and edit the buildings that Annie sees on her long walk because the buildings in the book kept getting torn down in real life!
Living as an adult in your hometown, even if it's a big city, can feel a lot like stuck-ness. Every day when I take my kids to the park, we walk by the park bench where I made out with my crush when I was seventeen. It can feel like you're standing still even as you're getting older. Annie has a lot of alternate lives, and she and Dom talk frequently about moving. When you've never left the place where you grew up, it can feel like your life hasn't even begun.
This book is an homage to the city I live in now, that I love so deeply. It's also a love letter to the city I grew up in, which no longer exists.
Motherhood plays a significant role in the story. How do you hope readers connect with Annie's experience?
The book taught me that there is a viciousness to parenthood, specifically motherhood, that we don't talk enough about. We talk about women as caregivers, as being intuitive, as being communal. Yes, we are all these things. But women are fierce and ruthless protectors of their children. When I was writing the book, I came across research that rat moms are four times faster at catching crickets than rats who aren't mothers. I wanted to show Annie's journey from pregnant woman to warrior mom.
The novel emphasizes connection and survival, both physically and emotionally. Why were these themes important for you to explore?
So many dystopian narratives are the same: man with gun fights alone at end of world. This is a very individualistic, patriarchal concept of what an apocalypse might look like.
The historical record does not support the "man with gun fights alone at the end of the world" narrative. Yes, disaster, war, and famine cause humans to do terrible things to each other. But there are also moments of connection, community, and caring. At the end of the world, humans will still be social animals. In some ways, we need closeness as much as we need food and water. So it was important to me to write a different narrative.
Every step of Annie's journey is impacted by others. Yes, she must navigate physical danger and the reality of being a woman walking alone. But she also finds more human connection than perhaps she's ever experienced before.
What do you hope readers take away from Tilt, especially as it relates to their own relationships and challenges?
I have always been fascinated by shock points: moments when you get jolted out of your everyday life and you suddenly see things clearly. I want a divorce. I hate my job. I forgive my father. I want to move to Paris. You also can see what doesn't matter: the car you drive, your hair, social media, the fight you're having with your neighbor.
These moments don't always feel like it, but they are a gift. The earthquake gives Annie a huge shock point, gives her enormous perspective, allows her the chance to change her life. So my hope is that by reading this book, somebody could—even for a moment—glimpse what matters most and what doesn't matter at all.
Unless otherwise stated, this interview was conducted at the time the book was first published, and is reproduced with permission of the publisher. This interview may not be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the copyright holder.
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