In terms of the idea for this story, the premise just kind of came to me all at once one morning over a coffee. I think it stems from an interest in what potential medical miracles nano-technology may unlock for humanity. And, of course, the inevitable question of who will have the cash flow to partake in said miracles.

What you see is more or less what’s on the page! If it was a longer work I’d obviously know more about her than what got written but all fiction (short fiction especially, IMO) is a little like making a friend on a flight: Generally you only know what they feel like telling you about their life before they stepped on the plane, and that varies from person to person.

I was thinking about power dynamics, and about a Tamsyn Muir story that appeared in Lightspeed in 2017. It’s called “The Magician’s Apprentice,” and it follows a young girl, Cherry, as she learns how to work magic. I was intrigued and distressed by the extreme power imbalance between Cherry and her teacher, a much older man with a secret about where his magic really comes from.

“Discarded God” was partially inspired by a quiet moment when I turned thirty-five last year. I had been reflecting on how much I’d changed from the person I used to be, and how difficult things were in my twenties. I wasn’t out to myself back then, yet alone out to anyone else. I hadn’t realized I could simply use she/they pronouns and embrace being nonbinary. Now? Well, I’m queer as hell and happy with who I am.

This piece began as a challenge I set for myself to tell a story from at least three distinct perspectives. By the time it was finished, it also became a story exploring the different people we become in different relationships. Each section is named after a relationship between Swimmer and someone else in the story. “Son” and “Brother” are both from Swimmer’s perspective, but show who he becomes in his relationship with his father and Boater, who he sees as a sister.

Money and religion go way back: If you try to trace the origins of money, you find yourself in Sumerian temples, looking at cuneiform tax and granary records. Many religions discuss the question of “creation debt”—the question of what humans owe their divine creators (and whether this debt can ever be repaid). Sacrifices are often conceived as a kind of payment to God (which also has the benefit, from priests’ perspectives, of supporting the life of priests).

When I first read about the Andean agricultural practice waru waru, I knew I wanted to write a story that incorporated it, but I wasn’t sure how. It kicked around in the back of my brain for a couple years, trying to attach itself to some kind of story, until something terrible happened: My aunt had a stroke.

I fought this story on and off for years, and it’s changed almost entirely, except for the two main characters. The very first draft dealt more with the westernized interpretation of genies and wishes that folks are familiar with. Still set in the same place but quite different than the end product. But the main idea I wanted to explore then and now was the dynamic between two characters like Nassim and Khaizaran amidst that setting.

Initially, I started with trying to envision a positive future. I came up with the Overview Initiative concept, then immediately realized all the reasons it is a terrible idea. That tension, as well as a tension I’ve been feeling around what the “point” of science fiction writing is more broadly (as if there is one singular point), drove this story.

The location is loosely based on the Round Table Foundation, an occult and psychic research facility that existed on the Maine coast in the mid-20th century. It was led by one Henry Puharić, who is well known in paranormal conspiracy circles, and a guy named Harry Stump, whose biography has to be read to be believed. Aldous Huxley used to stop by.