The narrator is driven to pursue her passion, but often our passions and the mundane need to make a living refuse to align. The termite lab is a space for dreams just fallen short. It’s close to the mark but still misses the heart.

I love a haunted house story. And I always think about how if I were in a haunted house I would be like “okay, we can cohabitate in this space, there’s no need to be hostile.” So, for example, say a door weirdly pops open in my apartment, I’m always “oh, hey,” just in case someone’s there.

I’m interested in stories that excavate disgust and shame. I’ve always found those emotions very fascinating, to read and feel, to elicit in others through my writing. I find to go there, to write about whatever abnormal, unpleasant, secret, shameful thing, feels vulnerable and risky. I’m often very impressed by writers who do it.

Sometimes we, as people, are hesitant to use tools of oppressors to eliminate said oppression. Often, we try to take an ethical or moral “high road” to distance ourselves from such oppressors. We don’t want to use extreme means to reach our ends, even if we truly believe those ends are noble or just.

I kept a few elements from the myth of the Shahmeran. It’s a mythical creature that is half-woman, half-snake, and whose blood has healing properties. But while the original story is a tale of hope and trust and forgoing sacrifice, this story is about multiple acts of selfish desire.

My main inspiration for this story, however, was the Final Destination franchise, and my own endless fascination with lost films and telenovelas, the latter a media I’m very much in love with. Brazil is a juggernaut in the telenovela industry, and we have an extremely rich history.

I have a habit of writing stories inspired by trips that I’ve enjoyed. This one, I started writing after the first time I attended CLAW, a BDSM and kink convention in Cleveland. I distinctly remember thinking—on the way back—that some of the activities I got up to would be considered “niche” or “extreme” by a large percentage of the population. I wanted to speak to that through speculative fiction.

Believe it or not, it all started as a pun. I read a description somewhere of a bird species being “cavity nesters,” and my brain immediately went “you mean like thoracic cavity?” That then gave rise to the line “they nest in hollows—do you feel hollow?” and the double meaning felt interesting enough that I wrote it down. But then it sat there. For years. Because I didn’t have a story—I had a bit of wordplay.

We know that these feelings are unreasonable. We ideally know that comparison is the thief of joy. But it also doesn’t change the fact that people feel these things. I think that’s why I feel some comfort in having this story out there, because it’s necessary to discuss these themes.

In an interview, the iconic drag queen Sasha Colby said something like—drag for her was a tool to empower people who had been disempowered. And that sparked the essence of Courtney’s character and her journey.