As usual, your story takes us through so many feelings and insights. For this story, what was the starting point and when did you know the story had come to its full form?

When I sat down to write “Apeiron” I had a decent sense of what I wanted it to be. A lot of the thinking about the story happened off the page, over years. I knew I wanted it to feel like a fable, but with more modern elements. I knew I wanted to expand on creation myths and delve into the psychology of gods. I knew I wanted it to be dreamy. What form all of that would take was the part I was least sure about. I figured I would work that out as I went. And it was fun, following my gut when it came to elements I brought into the story. When something unexpected showed up, I just accepted it.

I revised and revised it, workshopped it, revised again. When it felt like I had stopped adjusting things, or was adjusting very little, then I decided it was done. But I don’t think stories are ever done. The writer is always moving. Doneness is more of a decision than a certainty.

I am always fascinated by your titles. What makes for a good title? How did you land on this title and were there other titles competing?

This title came from a conversation I had with another author, a former student, actually. I was talking about aspects of the story (before I wrote it) and he brought up the philosophical concept: apeiron, a boundless, indefinite source of all things. I looked it up and I just liked it. Felt right. I usually don’t go for this kind of title, but I thought it might act as a key for understanding what the story was about. The title came so early I never came up with anything else.

A part of this story is a commentary on curiosity. How essential is curiosity to a writing process? And does curiosity actually kill the cat?

These strange god stories (I’ve written more than a few at this point) all come out of curiosity. They started with questions about existence and the responsibility gods have to the things they create and then they bloomed into this more defined cosmology. But I think many of my stories start high, some big idea or question, and then further curiosity brings it down to earth, grounds those ideas in something tangible.

This story doubles as a metaphor for the creative process, for sure. And thematically I’ve often written about people (or beings) who meet their undoing due to their curiosity. Or experience some moral slip by being curious at the expense of other things that should matter. I don’t want to say the impulse is deadly though, or has to be. I think discovery is important and valuable; it comes from curiosity. But there is a danger to it as well. And a lesson in taking things too far.

The ending was quite surprising. What made you choose this ending?

Well, the ending was already in my head before I wrote it. I just didn’t know how the story would get there. This is sort of a founding myth for a cosmology I’ve been developing for a long time. It is central to the Convergence Saga, the trilogy I’ve been working on for several years. (Asha actually shows up in those books.) The discovery was in the human element, making all that make sense on a personal level for Asha and Maker. I hoped the ending would land, but it is sort of an open ending, an end that starts something else. I’m still wondering if it works. I’m glad you find it surprising at least.

How would you define the relationship between Asha and Maker?

Oh, great question! I’m not sure what they are. There’s definitely a parent-child dynamic. And a mentor-mentee dynamic. But the story is meant to complicate ideas of ownership or hierarchy. It is meant to challenge assumptions of what those ideas mean. The fact that Asha is her own person and is in many ways stronger than Maker is important. It is also important that parts of who she is remain a mystery to Maker, even by the end of the story. There are facts stated in the story. Maker definitely came first. But the story is asking: Does that matter? And should that determine their relationship to each other? By the end, I think Maker comes to the realization that it doesn’t, it shouldn’t.

I know you have been on the rounds with the next installment of your book series. So for a change, I wanted to ask what has been keeping you grounded outside writing and publishing?

Another great (and unexpected) question. I guess I try to keep grounded through my close relationships? I know that sounds like a basic answer, but my close friends and family knew me before I wrote anything, when that was just a thing I wanted to do. Those relationships haven’t changed. My wife is more than willing to tell me I’m obsessing over writer stuff. I love her for that. Lately, I’ve been trying to treat it as a standard job. I try to clock out, put my phone away, stop checking emails after a certain time. Once that noise is gone, I’m just my normal, reserved, pretty boring self.

I’ve been getting into watching movies again. Recently I watched Sense and Sensibility for the first time (the 1995 film directed by Ang Lee). This was after I’d watched three different adaptations of Emma over a single weekend. I loved Sense and Sensibility. I think it’s perfect and multiple times I paused it to remark on something I thought it was doing better than modern films. My wife was mostly amused.

I’ve been listening to music more. I’ve gotten into a Japanese pop group called XG. The intensity of my interest has been alarming to me.

I like riding my bicycle. Doesn’t matter where, though I usually go to the library or coffeeshops (which I know is writing-related). There’s a trail near my apartment I like to ride through. Or walk through. I watch birds and other wildlife. I take pictures.