I like films. Sometimes, when I watch a film I try and figure out what the extras are saying in the background. It’s usually with films I’ve seen before. I’ve worked as an extra before so I know it’s mostly nothing, but once you start thinking about this, it takes you places.

This story was inspired by the ecology of animals like the olm, a unique cave-dwelling salamander, and the honeypot ant. One of my favorite things to do in speculative stories is interweave non-human lives, ecologies and cultures into our human ones.

It seems to me like most good advice on writing boils down to 1) read widely, and 2) write. But I wish more people understood that all published writing is an optical illusion, a magic trick that looks effortless but is in fact the product of endless rehearsal, practice, and revision.

I told myself that I wouldn’t be one of those writers who would move to NYC and then write a short story about moving to NYC. I’ve read too many of those over the years and they start to be repetitive. But then, I discovered I wanted to use all the newness I was experiencing.

If you’re a writer reading this, you’re probably invested in speculative fiction. I suspect you share with me the sense that our world could be—and should be—much better than it is! I believe fiction can make space for imagining better worlds and how we might get to them. And I believe your work—yes, you, personally—matters.

“Diamonds & Toads” was one of my favorite fairy tales when I was young. I think I just liked the visual of roses and snakes falling out of people’s mouths. (Still do, TBH.) When I reread it as an adult, though, I was struck by how sorry I felt for the oldest daughter.