Lania Knight’s moving and poetic essay appears in the February issue. She talks with us about dancing playlists, the potential of passionate affairs, and the pelts of dream animals.
1. What is on your dance party playlist?
I’ve got eclectic taste in music. Here’s a sampling of what I like to dance to: “Pressure Drop” by Toots and the Maytals, “Come on Eileen” by Dexy’s Midnight Runners, “Send Me on My Way” by Rusted Root, “Ponte de Lanca Africano (Umbabarauma)” by Jorge Ben, and “Walking on Sunshine,” by Katrina and the Waves.
2. Why must all hot and heavy stuff in literature start in New England?
The long winters might have something to do with it.
3. How does one kill a dream animal and wear its pelt?
One never kills a dream animal and wears its pelt–this would be akin to ripping one’s Desire from one’s Body and leaving said Desire to die a mournful death.
4. What made you choose to veer away from the potential hot and steamy affair between Carl & the protagonist?
The hot and steamy affair with my husband eclipsed the potential hot and steamy affair with Carl.
5. What has tempted you? How did you best it?
Temptation: sex with partners I don’t know very well or even like. How I bested it: with my favorite sex toys purchased at Good Vibrations. Good sex alone always wins over bad sex with someone else.
6. How do you like to dance?
The easier question would be how do I not like to dance. Have you ever danced in Texas? I’m not talking Austin where you can forget you’re in Texas. I mean in a honky tonk in a small town. I don’t like having to wait to be asked to dance, which, if you are female and you’re in a bar in Texas, you must do, unless you want to be seen as loose. I already know I’m loose, but I really hate when men in cowboy hats who chew dip and women with shellacked hair look at me sideways when I can’t wait to be asked to dance. So, the answer to the original question is that I love to dance, I’ll dance any chance I get, and I prefer to dance with people who are as free-spirited as I am–no rules, no waiting, and no judgment.