Tala Motazedi, a queer screenwriter from Iran, has had a very busy year indeed as the PEN Writer-in-Residence at George Brown College.
Her work at the College began in September. As part of her residency, Tala has been visiting classrooms across campus, acting as a guest speaker. She brings her life experience into each classroom, as well as her professional expertise – she is the first screenwriter and second playwright ever to hold the residency.
The 44-year-old was born and raised in Tehran (all her ancestors are from a village in Tehran called Shemiran). But just over a year ago, Tala was forced to flee Iran due to political and personal persecution tied to her identity and work. Censorship in Iran was difficult to navigate as a screenwriter, where films face bans and artists fear arrest. When the Woman, Life, Freedom protests broke out in 2022, a spirited Motazedi stood with protestors and refused to comply with hijab mandates. She and her colleagues were banned from work, interrogated, and, in some cases, imprisoned.
Tala fled to Canada in October 2023. Since arriving here, she has joined PEN Canada as a Writer in Exile and received both the 2024 Humber PEN Scholarship and the George Brown residency. With her determination and these two opportunities, her first year in Canada has been full of promise.
Now halfway through her residency, PEN caught up with the screenwriter and playwright:
PEN Canada: You have a Bachelor’s degree in Dramatic Literature from the Faculty of Fine Arts at the University of Tehran. What was your first contact with theatre and with film? And was there a writer or artist that inspired you to write?
Tala Motazedi: This question is a great one because it allows me to acknowledge the person who shaped my life and future in this path. The truth is, I initially went to university to study film, but I was accepted into theatre instead. I felt lost and confused, as I believed I didn’t know anything about theatre at the time. Back then, I was working as a photographer, and the university program was four years long. By the end of the first year, we had to choose our specialization. I had no idea what to choose. My professors suggested I study set design because of my photography background, and I had no other options.
At the end of the first year, we had to take exams for each subject. I had hurriedly written a play for the playwriting course. Then, I received a call from my friends, who told me that Alireza Naderi, one of the best Iranian playwrights, had given me the highest grade. I later met Alireza Naderi, and he told me, “You have to pursue playwriting.” He was the person who shaped my path, taught me how to write, and, most importantly, taught me why I should write.
This is something I now tell students at George Brown College: you have to write the stories you carry inside. You have to turn your wounds into words. That’s how you heal from their pain. Alireza Naderi did this for me. He gave me the courage to write and to embrace being a writer.
There is a culture of censorship in Iran. Scripts are censored, films get banned. Writers are banned from working or face threats, as you did after you participated in Woman, Life, Freedom demonstrations in 2022. Your 2021 film Orca was subsequently banned. Can you tell us what censorship looks like for writers in Iran?
Because I was born after the Islamic Revolution, I grew up in a society where lying and hiding were necessary for survival. If you didn’t lie or censor yourself, you would put yourself and your family at risk. We lied about things that might seem ridiculous to you, but they were the reality of our society. We had to hide everything. For example, as kids, if we said we went to parties where men and women mixed, it could be dangerous for our family. Even saying there was music, dancing, or alcohol at a party could get our family into trouble.
In Iran, living a normal life is a crime. As a writer or filmmaker, I grew up with a censored mind. I had to write scripts where women wore hijabs even inside their homes or where a husband and wife couldn’t even hold hands during romantic moments. Censorship in Iran went far beyond political issues—we even censored normal life in our scripts and plays. We censored ourselves even in our private thoughts, afraid to write about certain things.
But my colleagues and I tried to push the boundaries a little, to take small steps forward. Looking back, I think it was a foolish effort. In a dictatorship, reform has no meaning. Even the films and scripts we censored ourselves were banned in the end. The same thing happened with Orca. They censored it several times, and in the end, they banned it completely.
These experiences opened our eyes—we stopped fooling ourselves. They are not our allies; they are our enemies. They are not an Islamic Republic; they are an Islamic regime trying to control everything through force and oppression. We stand against them, not alongside them.
You began your residency at George Brown College in September. Tell us about the projects and writing you’ve been working on during your residency, and how you’ve been involved at the College.
Thanks to PEN Canada, I was able to secure two incredible opportunities: a scholarship at Humber College and a Writer-in-Residence position at George Brown College.
With the help of Antanas Sileika, my mentor at Humber, I’m working on a novel I’ve been researching for seven years. I wasn’t allowed to write this novel in Iran. It’s about World War II and the Islamic fascism that supported Hitler during that time.
At George Brown College, as the PEN Writer-in-Residence, I participate in classes, share my previous works and personal story with students, and answer their questions. Being at George Brown has been a significant help for me as a newcomer to Canada. Before becoming the Writer-in-Residence, I was also a student there — I actually received the call offering me the residency while in a class. Through George Brown, I’ve met a diverse group of people, listened to their stories, and shared my own. This has been one of the greatest opportunities for a writer—to meet their audience up close and get to know them. Thanks to George Brown, I’ve started to understand Canada better.
I’ve also learned what diversity truly means: people with different beliefs living together, listening to each other, and expressing their opposing or supporting views through words. This had a profound impact on me. I came from Iran with my own wounds and anger. I was filled with resentment towards religion and religious people. But at George Brown, I learned that people can wear the hijab and still choose a queer person like me as their friend. I realized that we can live together, respect each other’s beliefs, and accept our differences. This was a big transformation for me, someone who came to Canada carrying the heavy burden of anger.
Outside of your residency, tell us what else you’re working on right now?
Most of my time right now is dedicated to writing my novel, King Kong 1941.
Alongside that, I’ve also written a feature-length horror screenplay set in Toronto. It tells the story of a queer Iranian immigrant and explores the idea that when we migrate, we don’t just bring our photos, clothes, and memories—we also carry our monsters. Until we confront those monsters, we can’t truly begin a new life.
The Islamic regime has destroyed so much, including the possibility of exploring genres like horror in Iranian literature and cinema. Horror is one of my favorite genres, and my stories often carry threads of horror and mystery. Now, living in Canada, I finally have the opportunity to tell these stories.
You’ve been in Canada for just over a year—how are you adjusting to life here?
Honestly, the biggest challenge for me as a Persian-speaking writer has been writing in a different language. It’s the most significant obstacle I’m facing, and I’m actively working to improve. I dream of reaching the level of mastery in English that I had in Persian.
Another challenge is finding my place as a writer here. The truth is, I am a writer—that’s who I am, and I don’t have skills outside of writing, living in the world of words, and researching. I hope to continue my path as a writer in Canada.
But I must also talk about the greatest joy Canada has brought me—the joy of being myself. Writing and thinking without censorship. Being who I truly am without the need to build a web of lies to hide my queer identity or play a role just to survive.
In Canada, I am free to be myself, and this sense of safety, the ability to live without fear, is incredibly valuable to me. I am deeply grateful for it. Here, I am a real person, someone who thinks freely and writes without fear, and I owe this freedom to Canada.
What would you tell someone about your first year being in the PEN Writers in Exile network?
Migration is like being born again. It’s stepping into a completely new world where you know nothing, and everything feels both exciting and terrifying. The truth is, without the PEN Canada Writers in Exile network, I would have been lost in this unfamiliar world. The PEN Canada Writers in Exile program helped me face Canada in the most beautiful way possible. I met people who treated me like an old friend, and for the first time, I felt at home. Someone like me, who never felt at home in my own country, was accepted and respected here
What are you reading right now?
When I’m writing, I always try to immerse myself in a world similar to the one I’m creating. Right now, as I’m working on my novel King Kong 1941, I’ve surrounded myself with the atmosphere of spy stories. For example, I’m reading The Unlikely Spy by Daniel Silva, and I’m researching one of my favorite historical figures, Sir William Stephenson. I’m also reading the book A Man Called Intrepid as part of my research.
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About the PEN Writer-in-Residence at George Brown College
For over twenty years, George Brown College has partnered with PEN Canada to invite exiled writers into the College to discuss freedom of expression, human rights, and the importance of democracy.
The Writer-in-Residence devotes approximately half of their time to students and staff, as a guest speaker in classes and at other College events and initiatives. By sharing their stories, the Writer-in-Residence engages with the George Brown community and contributes to the College’s goals of inclusion and support for Canadian newcomers. The remaining time is designated for the resident to advance their own writing and work.
To-date, the George Brown residency has provided opportunity to 18 exiled writers who emigrated to Canada from 11 countries. Their life stories are as diverse as they are triumphant, as they all fled either persecution, violence or a threat to their lives in their homeland. Former residents include Shams Erfan, Aaron Berhane, Ava Homa, and Luis Horacio Nájera.
