“There are people who don’t give up demanding change.” An Interview with Susan Burgess-Lent

There are novels that tell a story, and then there are novels that carry the weight of history, identity, and moral urgency. When All the Girls Stopped Singing is firmly the latter. Spanning continents and generations, it follows Zora Monro as she is pulled from a carefully constructed life into a truth that is as dangerous as it is necessary.

I spoke with Susan Burgess-Lent about voice, responsibility, and what it means to write toward the realities many would rather not face.
Dianne Pearce: Without giving too much away, what is When All the Girls Stopped Singing about?
Susan Burgess-Lent: When All the Girls Stopped Singing follows Zora Monro, a Washington, DC human rights advocate whose carefully constructed life unravels after her mother’s sudden death. What begins as grief soon becomes a revelation. Hidden files and cryptic notes expose a long-buried secret about Zora’s origins, one that stretches from America’s fraught racial history to a war-torn region of Sudan.
Spanning continents and generations, the novel explores the cost of silence, the weight of inheritance, and what it means to claim one’s own story in the shadows of violence.
DP: What inspired Zora Monro’s journey to Sudan, and how much of it draws on your personal experiences?
SBL: Zora wants to find her blood family in a place that has been ruined by war. I experienced these desolate environments during my travels in Darfur, a high desert country with brutally beautiful vistas and very little infrastructure. The anxious mood is the reality of people never certain when death and destruction will visit them.
DP: Zora’s discovery about her adoption upends her life. How did you approach writing that kind of personal revelation?
SBL: I imagined myself receiving such news. Disbelief, confusion, and a rush of anger that basic assumptions about my identity were lies. Her need to know her true lineage motivates a trip that could jeopardize her life. That need tamps down her fear. Setting herself in motion becomes the most immediate way to answer the pain of not knowing.
DP: The novel explores war, family, and moral responsibility. How did you balance those themes without overwhelming the story?
SBL: Characters like RayJ and Aunt Bert provide grounding in normal life. Their relationships with Zora are humorous, affectionate, and quirky. They make light of the journey she intends to take while offering encouragement. Moments of unexpected hospitality also signal that life continues, even in the face of threat.
DP: How did you research the political and social landscape of Sudan?
SBL: I knew many details from my work in the region. I also read extensively on the country’s history and conflicts. Observing and asking about social customs deepened both my understanding and my relationships, and added texture to the story.
DP: The story includes a dangerous web of shifting alliances. Were these inspired by real-world experience?
SBL: Yes. In a conflict zone, survival requires constant vigilance. Trust always carries consequences. Motives are often hidden, and access to resources can be restricted without explanation. Outsiders can be manipulated with money or violence. At the same time, the natural hospitality of the Sudanese is real and can be taken advantage of.
DP: How did you decide what parts of Zora’s family history to reveal and when?
SBL: The story of her birth mother could not be known until Zora reached Sudan. Her adoptive mother left a trail, but not answers. The deeper Zora searches, the more complex and fascinating the history becomes.
DP: The novel deals with trauma and violence. How did you approach writing those moments with sensitivity?
SBL: Zora’s physical reaction to the ruins of a torched village signaled her inexperience with that level of horror. Being present in such moments requires a willingness not to look away. It also requires understanding that your role is not to collapse under the weight of what you see, but to remain clear enough to witness and help.
DP: Abuk is Zora's biological relative. Abuk’s trauma is a key part of the story. How did you portray it respectfully?
SBL: As a woman, even reading about female circumcision is difficult. But it was important that this trauma not create distance between Zora and Abuk. The urgency of survival meant they had to stay connected and focused on getting help. Zora’s practicality overrides her instinct to turn away.
DP: Zora works as a spokesperson for a human rights organization. How does that influence her decisions?
SBL: Experiencing in person what she had only read about deepens her credibility and her connection. She moves from theoretical outrage to visceral understanding. In that environment, decisions must serve more than just oneself. She finds the courage to act.
DP: The men guiding Zora have uncertain loyalties. How did you build that tension?
SBL: They are likable, even charming, but something feels off. True motives are withheld, and that creates a subtle tension that influences every interaction. Zora senses this, even when she cannot fully articulate it.
DP: Music and “singing” are referenced in the title. What role does that play in the story?
SBL: In East Africa, song is a communal expression of emotion, often joy or pride. It becomes a way of understanding both presence and absence, what is shared and what is lost.
DP: What was it like working with your editor on such a complex story?
SBL: Spending so much time alone with the material, it was a huge relief to have an objective mind ask questions and suggest ways to improve the story. Dianne has a great love of words and story. Over time, I trusted her instincts about scenes and revised as she recommended most of the time. The rest led to valuable reflection about what needed to remain.
DP: The cover is striking. What was your reaction when you first saw it?
SBL: The first design was dramatically lush and appealing. I was pleased at its grandeur. Then I reflected that the setting of the novel is much more barren and brown. Dave Yurkovich made it so. I liked the woman with dark skin in a beautiful dress, Zora on her journey. The smoke on the horizon implies threat. The girl waiting under the tree felt like someone I would want to rescue. The final color changes made those elements even stronger.
DP: What do you hope readers feel in the final pages?
SBL: A sense that although the changes needed could not happen, there are people who don’t give up demanding them.
DP: What do you hope they do after finishing the book?
SBL: Figure out how to build or join an anti-genocide coalition that enforces effective and timely responses to governments run amok. And support programs that help educate, train, and backstop women in achieving more prosperous lives.
DP: If this book had a soundtrack?
SBL: Sudanese music. The instruments are different, and the mood often reflects both the angst and exhilaration of a journey.
DP: One word to describe Zora at the beginning?
SBL: Frustrated.
DP: One word at the end?
SBL: Chastened.
DP: Coffee, tea, or chaos while writing?
SBL: Silence and a view.
DP: Huh. No caffeine. Well, somehow, I'm still glad I read this book. ;)
Susan Burgess-Lent’s When All the Girls Stopped Singing is not a novel that asks for passive reading. It invites reflection, discomfort, and, ultimately, awareness. Through Zora’s journey, readers are reminded that even in the face of overwhelming systems and long-standing silence, there are voices that continue to rise, insist, and endure. It is a story that lingers, not just for what it reveals, but for what it quietly asks of us once we reach the final page.
Susan Burgess-Lent is a veteran international aid worker, Emmy Award–winning documentary editor, and author dedicated to amplifying voices often ignored.
She founded Women’s Centers International, a nonprofit that establishes community resource hubs for women displaced by conflict and poverty.
Her published works include Trouble Ahead: Dangerous Mission with Desperate People, a nonfiction book (Amazon 2019); In the Borderlands(Xlibris, 2000); short stories in anthologies including Gargoyle Magazine and SFWC’s 2022 Anthology; and scores of essays on social justice and women’s rights on her blog SusanBurgessLent, and on Substack.
Susan and her family reside in Oakland, California.