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1. Do you have a plan or project in mind for your time at the residency?

Yes, while in Iowa, I plan to continue working on my novel. It’s about bandits in Eastern Sumatra during the Dutch colonial era. I already have a draft of this novel, which I’ve been working on since 2019. So I thought Iowa would be the perfect place to pick it up again, especially with all the time and space to focus.

But now, something is happening in Indonesia. Protesters have taken to the streets, voicing dissatisfaction with several policies introduced by President Prabowo — a former general who, in the past, was involved in the abduction of pro-democracy activists. At this point, I’ve found myself tempted to return to a different novel I’ve been writing — one about the elite army forces (which the president once commanded) and their covert operations in Aceh between 1989 and 1998. These operations led to widespread human rights abuses: civilians were abducted, tortured, sexually assaulted, and many were killed extrajudicially.

This morning, I reread the draft of the novel about the elite forces — and now I feel I must make a decision soon.

2. What does your daily practice look like for your writing? Do you have a certain time when you write? Any specific routine?

I usually write in the morning — not long after I wake up — and I often work for four to five hours straight. That’s my most productive time, when I feel the most energy. Of course, coffee and cigarettes are essential companions during those hours, quietly fueling the process. Sometimes in the afternoon, I go to a coffee shop to write a bit more — mostly rereading or editing. I almost never write at night.
 

3. What are you currently reading right now? Are you reading for research or pleasure?

I read for both research and pleasure. Right now, I’m rereading George Orwell’s book about Burma. I saw it at home, picked it up, and tossed it into my bag — I thought it would be a good companion for this trip. For the bandit novel, I brought two books from Indonesia that I’ve read multiple times. The first is Batavia di Kala Malam (Polisi, Bandit, dan Senjata Api) 1869–1942 by Margreet van Till — translated from Dutch into Indonesian. The second is Menjinakkan Sang Kuli (about colonial labor politics in the early 20th century), by Dutch historian as well, Jan Breman, also translated from Dutch.

4. What is one thing the readers and writers of Iowa City should know about you and your work?

I'm a very slow writer. Not because I don't know what I want to say — the story usually arrives fully formed. But the sentences and executing scenes... they take their time. I rewrite them over and over, shifting words around, rearranging structure, listening for rhythm, waiting for the right tone to emerge.

Some people outline chapters. I edit commas for a week.

I usually write with a plan. I begin by drafting with pen and paper in a notebook — those are the joyful days. At that stage, I feel like a child playing with LEGO: building, breaking, imagining freely. It’s usually here that I find the best form and understand what I need to do next, like creating a blueprint.
The real trouble starts when I move to the laptop and try to type the first sentence. That part is terrifying.

My most recent novel, Kura-Kura Berjanggut (Bearded Turtle), published in 2018, is a sprawling epic about pirates and the sea. It's nearly 1,000 pages long and took me twelve years to complete. Although it hasn't yet been translated into English, it has found a devoted audience among Indonesians born in the 1990s and later. Many readers say they devoured it quickly, despite its length. The novel blends history, myth, and adventure, and explores themes freedom and rebellion.
 

5. Tell us a bit about where you are from - share some favorite details about your home.

I was born and raised in Banda Aceh, the most conservative province in Indonesia, where Islamic Sharia law is implemented. About 400 years ago, this place had a strong connection with the city of Salem, Massachusetts. Salem’s city emblem features a spice trader from Aceh, reflecting the historic spice trade ties between the two regions.

Nowadays, few people probably know much about the city. People in Iowa might not have heard of it at all. A generation ago, around 20 years ago, some might remember it as one of the deadliest places when the 2004 tsunami struck the Indian Ocean coastline. Half of the city’s population died or went missing, and mass graves had to be dug using excavators. It took about ten years to rebuild.

The disaster also pressured the Indonesian government — which at the time had declared martial law and deployed nearly 40,000 troops — to finally sign a peace agreement with the separatist group, the Free Aceh Movement. That peace has now lasted for 20 years with almost no major unrest.

My house is located on a corner. There’s only one way in and out. So when my neighbours hold events (like funerals, weddings, or communal feasts) and set up tents in the street, sometimes I can’t get my car or bicycle out — or even leave the house without bumping into a crowd.

My yard is full of trees — big ones. Some of my neighbours don’t like them because the monsoon winds in our area are strong, and the falling leaves clog up the drainage. Others have different concerns: they believe ghosts live in big trees and make babies cry at night.

I also have several cats. Not fancy purebred cats, like many people in my area prefer — just regular street cats. They’ve all been spayed or neutered. But many stray cats also treat my house like a hub, stopping by to eat, drink, or mate. Of course, this also sometimes annoys the neighbours. But I always say: cats can ward off ghosts.