I wanted to start by saying that “In Our Skin” truly got under my skin (pun only somewhat intended)! It was a fantastic read, and thank you for sharing it with us. It’s one of my favorites I’ve read for Nightmare in quite some time! The guilt and shame in this story are crushing, from all parties involved. However, we find a level of understanding between the sisters in the end, acknowledging the outside forces that drove them to commit each of their dark secrets. Where did you source this family dynamic from?
I didn’t have any specific source for the family dynamic in “In Our Skin.” But, looking back, it was likely inspired by conversations I’ve had with different people I’m close with who felt like the unloved or unwanted child in their family. Now, as a mother myself, I think constantly about how to ensure my kids feel equally loved at all times—and I see how easily that could go wrong.
Additionally, one of my favorite things about writing is exploring the complexity that can exist within a single relationship. A partner someone both loves and hates. A parent who cares for a child in some regards and neglects them in others. Siblings who, despite growing up in the same household, have vastly different views of their parents. Sisters who resent and feel betrayed by one another, who still, somehow, find a way to forgive and to choose to love each other.
I enjoy diving into those kinds of dynamics, and I love finding ways to change a character over the course of a story until they’re ready to make a decision or accept something that would have been strange or surprising to them at the start.
I feel like everybody wants to experience what Kyla describes as “perching” at times; a “fly on the wall” of your own life (although in this case the analogy’s a bit confused, as Kyla’s life is shared with Maddy’s). Is this something you’ve felt?
I can think of two types of experiences where I’ve felt like an observer in my own life. One is when I’ve suffered bouts of sleep paralysis. Feeling aware of what’s happening (with heightened paranoia to make it more fun!) while simultaneously being completely unable to move your body is an experience I wish on no one. There is a particular kind of terror that comes with that complete lack of control.
The other is in times of stress. I can recall moments of dissociation where I’d still be aware I’m in my body, but my mind focused on observing the details around me. A coping mechanism, I suppose.
On the same topic, sharing a body with another person/entity has really, I feel, been something that pop culture itself is grappling with right now. Between The Substance, the Smile series, Immaculate, Possessor, and now “In Our Skin” (among many others), what is your take on this trend? How did you put your spin on it here?
I probably shouldn’t admit this in a horror magazine (don’t yell at me!): I rarely watch horror movies. I got into horror in recent years, and since I have two young kids, it’s difficult to find time to watch anything—let alone something that’ll scare them. Most of my consumption of the genre is through written horror.
So, while I can’t really speak to how “In Our Skin” fits into the larger conversation or trends, I can say this. I’ve long held an intense curiosity about people’s motivations and choices. As a teen, I used to psychoanalyze people directly to them. (As you can imagine, this made me very popular.) And though I can endlessly analyze others’ lives and motivations, I can never truly know what they’re experiencing or feeling.
Though it wasn’t a conscious decision, that is likely where the concept of perching and the sisters’ shared body arose for me. Kyla and Maddy experience some degree of each other’s emotions, but neither can ever be fully sure what the other thinks or believes. Their bond is a sort of step toward bridging that gap in one person’s understanding of another’s experiences, while simultaneously still keeping that last bit of distance and uncertainty. Adding in all the implications of having someone else in control of your shared body half the time made for a creepy setup I was excited to explore.
I notice that on your website you had written an article titled “Writing Chinese Food into My Stories,” and I certainly noticed the themes of food and eating present in “In Our Skin.” Could you talk about that focus a little bit, and how did you play with these concepts in this story?
It’s funny—I didn’t realize how often I incorporated food into what I write until people started pointing it out. It feels trite to say this, but food has always played a huge role in my family. My mom is an incredible home chef whose love language is food. The one sacred, shared time of day for my family (parents, two brothers, and me) was our nightly dinner. No TV, no reading at the table. Just a delicious, shared meal and conversation. So, I think it’s inevitable that, when I considered what might make the proxy children feel more or less human, I thought of food.
For Kyla and Maddy’s mother, food is also a love language. (Thankfully, that’s where the similarities between their mother and mine end.) She’s proud of the meals she makes for her children, and she wants to feel appreciated. The fact that Kyla can’t stand ginger, and therefore refuses to eat her mom’s lǎo jiāng jī (old ginger chicken), drives the wedge between them further. Maddy cares more about keeping the peace and making her mom happy than her own comfort and tastes, which makes Mother love her even more.
Mother loves cooking Maddy’s favorite foods, and she loves watching Maddy eat. She’s grieving and desperate to pretend, even if it’s only for the span of one dinner, that everything is as it was. Maddy and Kyla know this, and in the end, they use it against her as a distraction while they prepare to run away.
I enjoyed that “In Our Skin” ends with a beginning, in a sense. What do you think comes next for Kyla and Maddy?
I think they have some hardships ahead of them. Not only in learning how to survive without Mother, but in dealing with the past trauma and betrayals between them. They’ve only just begun to sort out their relationship, and they’ll have to keep working at it. But I’m hopeful for them. I think they’ll get there, and maybe someday they’ll find a way toward a transfer that’ll allow them to live as separate individuals again.
Where can we find more of your work, and what do we have to look forward to coming out from you next?
Info about all of my short fiction, essays, and books can be found on my website (kelseayu.com). I have a flash horror piece coming out in The Deadlands soonish.
At the moment, I have two published books. Bound Feet (Cemetery Gates Media) is a horror novella about two grieving moms who break into a Chinese garden and ghost museum overnight to perform a Ghost Day ritual—and accidentally summon an angry ghost. It’s Only a Game (Bloomsbury) is a YA thriller about a group of gamers who are blackmailed by a mysterious programmer into playing a dangerous game with real-life consequences. And my next horror novella, Demon Song, will be out through Titan Books this fall. It’s a loose Phantom of the Opera retelling set in a Beijing opera house, and I’m really excited for everyone to read it.
I also have some unannounced projects on the horizon! Though by the time this interview is out, they might have been announced. You can always find info about my latest work at my website or on my Instagram, @anovelescape. I keep both up to date!