From the first word to the last, this is such a crazy gut punch of a story. Where did the seed of this idea come from for you?

This story started back in 2013 with that final scene scribbled into a notebook at a coffee shop in downtown Asheville. I don’t remember my initial thought process, only that I was thinking about how weird and sexual William S. Burroughs’s work could be and I wanted to do something in that vein, but really push the weirdness into horror. It sat in that notebook for a couple of years until I decided my work had gotten too safe and I wanted to push boundaries. I brought the story out and kept digging into it, just making it as weird as I could until it felt whole.

The abrupt pacing of the story serves to put us in the fragmented mind of our narrator, who is every bit as insane as the story they’re living in. How do you get in the headspace of such a unique character?

I obtained a degree in clinical psychology, which helps, but I’ve always been adept at imagining other people, the conversations they might have, their reasons and motivations. The degree helped me understand the underpinnings of disordered behavior, but I don’t think it would’ve had as much impact if I hadn’t already been very good at empathy. I don’t sit and make a checklist of clinical signs and behaviors. I just write and let my knowledge of psychology feed the imagining. Misha, at first, refuses to accept his guilt and it twists his reality in bizarre ways.

One thing I loved was contrasting the surrealness of the narrative with how grounded your descriptions were! “Clabbered milk,” “gray with cigarette smoke,” “knife marks clawed onto the table”—beautiful and unique descriptive choices that help the craziness feel normal. What made you want to frame this story in such a level way (at least for a little bit)?

I love a good description, and I love atmosphere. It’s something I try to weave into all my work. But when it comes to the surreal, I believe you need to be grounded in some way, otherwise your reader will struggle to find a solid point to orient to. Misha has a lot going on in his head, so I wanted my readers to really see, smell, and hear his world. I love to write about place because place helps inform who we are, whether we like it or not.

What I love about this story is that our narrator is not a good person. They are cruel, spiteful, and willing to kill over the slightest provocation. What do you think there is to gain by writing a story from this kind of perspective, and why do you think it’s important for readers to put themselves behind this specific character’s eyes?

This is a great question. We learn to develop a sense of other people through shared experience. The power of stories is that it allows us to share in these experiences in safe ways. It’s how we develop empathy. When we see a story from the point of view of flawed individuals, we can gain understanding of their thoughts, feelings, and the events that shape their behavior. That, of course, doesn’t mean we have to excuse the behavior, but if we can see the underlying mechanism, it can give us a roadmap to fixing broken systems or improving resources. Stories are powerful tools! Why else would some groups work so hard to ban certain narratives?

One of the most gut-punching stories I’ve ever read was a graphic novel titled My Friend Dahmer by Derf Backderf. It was harrowing, and really made me question our systems and our society.

Misha isn’t a good person, and this isn’t a long enough story to truly understand him, but hopefully we do see him go through a change as he grapples with what he’s done, and maybe that humanizes him a little, even though he is not completely redeemed. It’s okay to understand people who are wrong and still hold them accountable.

I’ve somehow managed to get this far without addressing Anton, the horny talking rat! The talk of rats getting off by rubbing their tails and obsession with a 1950s Mouseketeer (the titular Annette Funicello) is wild, not to mention his interest in David Foster Wallace novels! Seriously one of the most fun characters I’ve read in our humble little magazine. If you ever met Anton (hopefully in a less depraved setting), what would you chat about? Do you think you’d get along?

I think Anton and I would get along smashingly. We’d meet up in a bar, in a back corner table with low lights and Miles Davis on the speakers. He’s sipping a gin and tonic and I have a dirty martini. We chat about the arts, culture, politics. He has the best gossip and knows the most interesting facts about the artists (directors, actors, authors, and musicians). He’s the kind of rat you love to go out with because you know it’s going to be a kick, but not one you take home to meet your mother. Don’t get me wrong, Anton is a gentleman in all the ways that count, but he has a plan, and neither you nor I are on the menu.

On your website, your bio mentions that you grew up in a family of biologists, which definitely echoes throughout your work. What do you take from your more scientific background and infuse into your writing, and what draws you to exploring fiction using nature as a psychological lens?

Mostly, I don’t think it’s a conscious thing. It’s part of what makes up my knowledge DNA, so it comes out when I write. I’ve been very lucky to be exposed to many different branches of science, but the one that’s closest and most dear to my heart are the biological sciences, which for me, extends naturally into Earth and environmental science. We are inextricably tied to our environment. It affects us, and we affect it. Our environment shapes our health, our personality, and our psychology. We can harmonize with it, or it can chafe us, but it always impacts us, one way or the other.

What do we have to look forward to from you in the future?

I have a novel I’m finishing up, and a handful of short stories I’m hoping to polish and find homes for.