It was absolutely intentional to not just critique the “traditional” three-act structure but to expose its inherent violence through the story’s very bones. For women like Mirlande, who is undocumented, Black, and Haitian, that very structure gaslights on a narrative level.

I read and watch a lot of horror. I’m really interested in the genre and how it provides a vehicle for grappling with experiences that can be difficult to name and contend with otherwise, including experiences of physical porousness, boundarylessness, and vulnerability.

Community is important—essential, even—but community is built on patience, tolerance, adaptability, generosity, understanding. Conformity shatters too easily. Don’t build community on conformity.

The big thing is that fish are gross. They are slimy and weird and I hate their creepy eyeballs. They scare me and I think they should scare you, too.

I think there’s definitely something to the cyclical nature of trope and subversion within storytelling, whether it’s in horror, comedy, romance, or any other genre. The saying goes that there are no new stories under the sun, but there’s always a new way to tell them.

The writing of the story is an exercise in scaring myself.

I’ve always been interested in the idea of the absurd and doomed endeavor. A useless task undertaken on faith, perhaps, or even just lack of imagination or options is fascinating to me. These are also dramatically interesting situations to put people in and see how they react. Here, as I wrote Bailey and found a counterpoint in Heck, the kind of energy it would take for her specifically to persevere began to emerge.

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.