I’ve always been obsessed with shapeshifting magic. I mean Mystique is my favorite X-men character. Part of it comes from Dastaan-e-Amir Hamza and Pakistani fairy tales about Koh-e-qaaf and shapeshifting devs. Part of it comes from stories like The Last Unicorn, which is one of my favorite books ever. When I was ten years old, I actually wrote a novel about a shapeshifting character, and then consigned it to the dustbin because I didn’t believe it was any good. I plan to bring that novel to life someday.

Of all the “punks” or “SF” genres out there, solarpunk is the most functional and relevant. It’s the one we can plant seeds in right now and grow something anti-dystopian. But to do that, it needs to build itself some cultural capital. It needs to be popular. Noir is popular. Therefore, solarpunk noir. It’s not that far a stretch at all.

I was reading quantum theory nonfiction and watching Brian Cox’s black hole videos (for my own entertainment, not work-related) and all that information needed an outlet. Adding the Lovecraft mythos felt like a natural progression born of thinking too much about deep-space phenomena. I’m not a physicist and I don’t write hard SF, so when I learn about neat scientific discoveries, I have to communicate my enthusiasm via weird spec-fic flash fiction.

I had the honor to live near three of my closest elders as they were dying, my grandmother and my great-aunt, and great-uncle who were basically my grandparents on their side of the family. I wrote “Until the Cure” while they were still with us, while I could still spend a lot of time with them. We were fortunate that all three of them were themselves until the very end, but I know not everyone is nearly that fortunate.