Kimberly King Parsons has written a novel and it’s stunning, a testament to the power of prose, a portal. The cover of We Were the Universe is bright pink, bedizened in dancing stars, which once you read the book, you will understand to be psychedelic stars, grief stricken stars, stars that keen for a girlhood gone by at the same time they shine on the present moment: motherhood in all its glory and mundanity, its trips to the park with snacks packed into the belly of a stroller, its trips to the bathroom to stream PornHub and jerk off. We Were the Universe is a novel of contradictions and confluences, a novel of language and experience, an iconic follow up to Black Light, which was longlisted for the 2018 National Book Award. Reading KKP is like taking a drug that amps you up and calms you down, somehow all at once. How does she do it? Most likely we will never really know. But here’s what she said when I asked.
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