Malavika Kannan’s "Unprecedented Times" features a burnt-out youth climate activist whose college experience is interrupted by the pandemic.
Malavika Kannan
Photography by Hero Bean Stevenson.

AGE: 25
BASED IN: New York
NOW PLUGGING: Unprecedented Times, August 2026

Gen Z has come of age, and now they’re writing novels about it. Malavika Kannan’s Unprecedented Times features a burnt-out youth climate activist (go figure) who arrives at college bent on starting a new chapter—only to be hit with Covid shutdowns (a generational trauma). Kannan constructs a farm collective for her young characters where, in the shadow of a pandemic, they learn about political disillusionment, sex, responsibility, and familial bonds.

What’s writing for you? An act of agony? Delight?

Total privilege and delight. I know how lucky I am. Generations of women before me were denied the privilege to write, let alone to be read. There is a meme I once laughed at, “Woman at 23 with a Twitter account has said more than all her ancestors combined,” and this feels extra true as a writer. I feel like I have gotten away with something!

Describe your writing ritual.

When I was writing Unprecedented Times in college, I started treating writing days like going on a date with my project—put on a cute outfit, bike to a cafe from my bucket list, buy us a treat—to make it romantic and pleasurable. I started observing Free Will Fridays, where I’d go to a totally new neighborhood with my laptop to lock in. Now I have standing writing dates with friends on different weekdays. I also have Pavlov’d myself into only being able to write to male manipulator rap, and I’ll often listen to the same three songs on repeat, letting the trap and autotune percuss my brain.

Describe the moment you decided to pursue writing as a career. What made you think you could pull it off?

I applied to college intending to become a political organizer, but halfway through freshman year, accelerated by the pandemic, I decided writing was the most meaningful way I would contribute to my community. Nikole Hannah-Jones’s campus visit in my freshman year, days before Covid, was particularly influential. Even if it couldn’t be the main way I made money, I felt I had something to say, and intended to run my mouth.

If you had to blurb your own book, what would you say?

“A portrait of a generation forged by the twin hellfires of the Internet and pandemic, a love letter to the girls and gays, and a FaceTime call with your worst-behaved friend, Unprecedented Times is not here to play.”

Describe a moment when you lost faith. What would you tell that younger writer?

I’m really grateful this hasn’t happened yet. My self-esteem was established as a teenage activist against gun violence in Florida during the first Trump presidency, which permanently steeled my nervous system. If I’m ever not feeling myself, I remind myself that it is an honor and privilege to write, there is no gun to my head (lol), and I can always take a break until I feel excited again.

What do you think your generation should read more—and less—of?

We should read more writers from outside of the West, more women in translation, and more people in the Global South contending with climate change in real ways. We should read fewer privileged American writers with autofiction allegations—that is, right after Unprecedented Times.

What’s the most romantic part of living as a writer? The least romantic?

The most romantic part is getting sweet messages from young queer women of color, telling me my work is like a warm hug. The least romantic part is that my writing sometimes terrorizes the people I love, particularly my parents and exes, who see themselves reflected in my characters.

This feature is part of the inaugural Young Writers list in collaboration with Montblanc. You can peruse the rest of the participants here.
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