How did “When We Were Gods” originate? What inspirations did you draw on?

I wrote the first draft while I was at Clarion West. Before I went, I had jotted down a few ideas, mostly scraps of images, and that week I was holding these pieces in my head: trains that were animals, something flashing through the gaps of escalators, something glittering black. Writing a story is so much like assembling a puzzle. I knew I wanted an urban feel to the fantasy and that “vibe” helped shape the world, its politics and history, its infrastructure and hierarchies. No doubt deeply influenced by all the urban fantasies I’ve read since childhood! Most of my stories begin this way, as an image or concept I am fascinated by, and I begin writing and build outwards.

The beauty of drafting a story, what is basically an epic-folded-into-a-short-story, during a workshop week means you are forced to make quick decisions about character, worldbuilding, plot—something I’m not always good at. It also meant that my usual thematic preoccupations and creative obsessions seeped in subconsciously and structured the world of the story. So, for example, there are gods (I am always drawn to gods in spec fic, how they interact with devotees and with opposing forces), there is a sister (which is the most meaningful relationship in my own life so I’m often using it as a shorthand for all kinds of emotional heft!) and there is exploration of the violence of colonialism and assimilation, the complexity of complicity and survival, what resistance might demand or take of you—how all of it changes you fundamentally.

Where are you in this story?

The politics of assimilation is something I think about a lot—it appears in many guises in my work—and it seems a natural or inevitable concern for me, an immigrant who moved to the UK as a child, a diasporic writer with incongruent feelings of identity and culture, and someone who is also from a privileged caste in Nepal. I think about complicity, in micro and macro forms, and complacency too, when you inhabit this particular subject position—how assimilation shapes you in specific ways, how survival strategies can be harmful internally and externally. Mriti, the main character, is a reflection of these complex feelings. Through her, I can explore questions. When is it not enough to keep surviving? (Do we get the luxury of that option?) What does acting, and kindness and resistance, look like in her world? And come to a version of the possible answers.

This is also why revolution is so violent in “When We Were Gods.” There tends to be a grand romantic view of it, but I wanted to acknowledge the sacrifices, the seismic internal change, the obliteration of the self, resistance can require.

Is there anything you want to make sure readers noticed?

One of my friends, while reading this story, made a comment about my ability to come up with so many fantasy names. I was all lol, I can’t claim credit. The name of the Jaani gods are the equivalent Nepali words for animals. For example: Biralo—cat, Chitwa—cheetah, Mayur—peacock, Sarpa—snake. Janawar—animal. At one point of my writing journey, I gave myself permission to use Nepali in my fiction; after all, my thoughts, my linguistic understanding of the world, include Nepali so of course my creative lexicon will reflect that. I gave myself permission to not italicise those words because they are not italicised in my head. There are some words I still don’t know in English, some that when translated into English seem to lose their precise meaning. I grew up with, and was influenced by, a lot of Indian media, as most people in Nepal, so Hindi and Urdu words also form my creative lexicon. It’s an interesting thing then when you write fantasy, or build a speculative world, and most of the readers encountering the story will not be aware of how much is made-up and how much draws from existing languages and cultures. There is a larger conversation about this, of course there is. It’s something I will be thinking about as more of my work gets out there. I do love the thought of readers who are Nepali, or understand Nepali, coming across my work and finding something familiar, something known, in spaces they might not think they necessarily would.

What are you working on lately? Where else can fans look for your work?

Right now, I am working on a short story collection that explores violence, rape culture, and diasporic experiences among other things—it’s a meld of genres and I’ve been having fun playing with form and voice and just writing weird shit. I’m doing a Creative Writing PhD so really I should also be working on my project—it will most probably be an interlinked collection thinking about folktales, witnessing and archives, and how we articulate trauma.

I haven’t got around to making a website, but a couple of things I will spotlight from last year: I am proud of this story (bit.ly/3eH3iVH)which also began life at Clarion West and was shortlisted for The White Review Prize (women’s heads growing from the ground!) and this story (bit.ly/32St8Dk) which won the Dinesh Allirajah Prize (cursed wishes! experimental structures!). I have a story coming out later this year in Death in the Mouth, a horror anthology edited by Cassie Hart and Sloane Leong. It’s going to be a beautiful illustrated book and I am very excited to inhale the entire TOC. I tweet about upcoming work on Twitter so that’s the best place to find me: @IshaKarki11.