From Loss to Worlds of Fantasy: The Writing Journey of Mia Marchenko

Mia Marchenko is a Ukrainian writer who closely intertwines personal loss with her creative work. Her book City of Shadows was born after the loss of her mother and became a way for her to process that grief.

Mia shared with Drive Music Media about her book City of Shadows, her first experience of co-authoring, and the literary worlds she creates.

Interviewer: How and when did your writing journey begin? What attracted you to this field?

Mia: It feels like I’ve always been writing — at least for as long as I can remember myself. I used to compose thoughts in my head like stage directions in books, and I often thought about my own life in the third person. In kindergarten, even before I knew how to write, I held “writing workshops” for other children using my own invented language and alphabet.

When I was twelve, after reading the then-popular novel Angélique, Marquise of the Angels, I was outraged by its ending and decided to write my own story with the main character I had fallen in love with at the time. So I can’t really say that I somehow came into this field — I think I was born into it.

It was also influenced by the fact that my mother was a literature teacher, and perhaps by the fact that my great-grandfather, Semen Tkachivskyi, was a Ukrainian writer and journalist who was repressed for his work. Sometimes I think writing chose me rather than the other way around. Being a writer is rarely about roses and popularity — it’s more often about poverty and a desperate search for balance. And, of course, about the birth of worlds.

Officially speaking, though, my first book was published in 2016. I was 33 at the time. By then I had already graduated from Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv with a degree in literary studies and defended my PhD. After experiencing several devastating personal losses, I decided not to continue an academic career and instead returned to what had sustained me under any circumstances — writing.

Interviewer: Tell us about your book City of Shadows. How did the idea come about? Who are the main characters?

Mia: City of Shadows began with an angel and my depression after losing my mother. Which is logical, because the book is about surviving loss, and the angel Seraphin is one of its main characters.

One day I bought a poster of the painting Frozen Love, which depicts a freezing Cupid, and hung it above my bed. Around that time there was a flu pandemic, everyone was wearing masks, and in the metro I saw a man walking through the carriage shouting, “Whoever wears a mask is afraid of dying!” I thought — he’s right, because that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

I said this to the angel above my bed and imagined him comforting me and leading me inside the painting, into another world. Then I traveled to Riga, the capital of Latvia. It was the end of November; there was snow in the Old Town, and an icy wind cut through my hands and face. I fell in love with the city.

In many ways it reminded me of my mother, because Riga was where my parents had gone on their honeymoon. I had seen many photos from there as a child, where my mother looked incredibly happy. One evening I got lost in the winding streets of the Old Town and ended up at the square where the stone knight Roland stands — and that’s when the story gained its third hero (besides the girl and the angel): a knight turned to stone by grief.

When I returned home, I immediately began writing.

Interviewer: Your book Children of the Fiery Time received the Fantasy of the Year award. Tell us about this experience. What did you feel at that moment? And tell us about the book.

Mia: The urban fantasy Children of the Fiery Time was written together with my co-author and close friend Kateryna Pekur. We conceived it during an extremely difficult and borderline time — when both of us were experiencing the semi-siege of Kyiv during the first months of the full-scale invasion.

We used to meet at the railway station in Kyiv because the only café still open was there, and we tried to regain at least the illusion of normal life. We drank black coffee on the empty square in front of the South Railway Station, went down into the underground passages during air-raid sirens, counted the zigzags of intercepted missiles in the sky, and wondered: if the land around us could speak — if the spirits of people who died in previous wars in Kyiv could speak, if the spirits of the rivers and hills of Kyiv could speak — what would they say about how someone is once again trying to destroy us? What advice would they give if we asked how to endure?

Now readers tell us that the book turned out to be incredibly therapeutic. While reading it, they were able to gently process the trauma and horror of the first days of the full-scale invasion. So when we received the award, we were of course very happy — because it means the book can reach more readers, and perhaps help them too. Or at least distract them for a few hours from our difficult reality with a story that once saved us — a story about regaining control over one’s life even in the hardest circumstances.

Interviewer: Tell us about your collaboration with Kateryna Pekur. How is writing together different from writing alone?

Mia: Co-authoring with Kateryna was my first experience of writing a book together with someone. Before that I could never imagine letting anyone into my creative process. But it happened, and I have never regretted it.

First of all, it’s very fun. Secondly, suddenly you are not alone in a process that is usually entirely about solitude. We organized brainstorming sessions, discussed the plot, argued a little, and supported each other a lot.

As a result, we managed to finish a huge book — almost a million characters long — in just a year and a half. If each of us had written it alone, it probably would have taken at least three years. And the book definitely wouldn’t have been as diverse as it became.

For example, I would never have created such brilliant characters as Hornylo — the restless spirit of a Cossack who works as an engine mechanic at the station — or Dubohai, the spirit of the Kadetskyi Hai stream. Kateryna says the same about my characters Gaia, Augustyn, Friedrich, and Johan.

Interviewer: Which secondary character from your solo book do you like the most? Why?

Mia: If we talk about City of Shadows, the secondary character I like the most is Alex, Marta’s father. Marta is the main heroine.

I gave him a story that is unfortunately typical for many people in the arts. He is a painter who, right after finishing his studies, tried to make a living from his art, but quickly realized he could not support a family that way. Since he still clung to the idea of remaining who he wanted to be, he had to choose.

Gradually his marriage fell apart, his daughter was taken away from him, and since then — working at a job he hates — he tries to compensate for his absence in Marta’s life with money and expensive gifts. He fails to notice that what she really needs from him is not that, but a little warmth and attention.

It felt important to create such a character in order to talk about the problems many creative people face when they choose art in the modern world.

Interviewer: How difficult is it to continue a writing career during war? What challenges have you faced?

Mia: Honestly, I don’t really think of my writing as a career. I write because I cannot do otherwise. And during the war the understanding that writing is my true calling only became stronger.

Before that there was always that nasty little voice telling artists to find a “normal job” and stop “wasting time.” But when Kyiv emptied during the first days of the invasion, I realized that my ability to translate texts — which had been my main source of income — was completely destroyed. Meanwhile, the novel I was working on suddenly gained several incredibly powerful scenes.

Because of my neurosis I cannot write at home and always work in cafés. I joke that I am a “coffee-shop writer.” So I wandered through the city searching for a café where I could sit and write.

In early April, in 2024 — hallelujah — one finally opened: Kava na Dvokh on Mykhailivska Street. From that moment on I walked there every day across the entire city. The love I felt then for every stone of my native streets is impossible to describe. Riding an electric scooter through an empty city, watching sand drift across the highways, seeing cranes return along the Dnipro River, hearing the bell ringer of St. Michael’s play “How Can One Not Love You…” and singing along at the top of my voice — and then hearing someone pick up the song from the other side of the street.

All of that only showed me where I truly belong: at a laptop, creating stories.

After that the Ukrainian book market actually experienced a surge in growth. So now my challenges are mostly about managing time between different writing projects and trying not to miss too many deadlines.

Interviewer: Tell us about your communication with readers. Have there been moments when their reactions made you see your book differently?

Mia: Yes, that has happened. With City of Shadows I was once surprised by a fourth-grade class from a Kyiv school. During a meeting the children kept insisting on one question: what exactly did Marta’s mother die from?

I usually avoid this topic, and in the book it’s described rather vaguely. But suddenly I realized I had to talk about it with them — especially after one of the kids said, “You just didn’t think it through, that’s why you won’t tell us.”

So we talked about breast cancer, how it can be prevented, and how many young women it takes away unexpectedly and tragically. This experience confirmed something I strongly believe: there are actually no topics that should be completely avoided with children. The question is only how to present them.

Silence around a topic often creates neuroses and unnecessary fears. Teenagers, in fact, often have a much higher tolerance for difficult subjects than adults. Before the full-scale invasion they read about dark things quite calmly, treating them as hypothetical situations rather than personal experiences.

But now my teenage readers are different. I think that’s why romantic fantasy and cozy fantasy are becoming more popular in Ukraine — because when you live surrounded by grief and daily news of death, the desire for stories where nobody dies becomes very strong.

It also changed how I see my own novel. Somehow, without fully intending to, I wrote not only a Christmas story and a psychological fantasy about grief, but also a story about national resistance and surviving occupation.

Interviewer: What mission do you see for yourself as a Ukrainian writer?

Mia: If I had to formulate it, I would say: to support and entertain.

I really dislike moralizing and lecturing in literature, especially in fiction. I believe books exist because they are fascinating — they are doors into other worlds where you want to spend time and where you can survive difficult periods of life.

Books are our friends and a way to rest when we are tired. So if one of my stories supports or entertains even a few children during these difficult times, I will consider that success.

Interviewer: What word do you associate with fantasy worlds? Why?

Mia: The phrase “from shadow to light.”

Most of my heroes are what I call “wounded healers.” They are people — or fantasy beings — who find themselves in extremely difficult circumstances. They all experience boundary moments, fall out of society for a time, and must struggle to return to it and rediscover faith in themselves and in others.

The interview was written by Asya Radko. Pictures were provided by Mia Marchenko