How did “Last Stand of the E. 12th St. Pirates” originate? What inspirations did you draw on?
This was originally a short I’d intended to include in a climate change anthology that explored more tangible, localized impact rather than the distant/impossible macro-disaster approach that ends up being the focus of a lot of media. And then the world started catching up to the stories being written and it somehow felt less poignant and more “news at eleven.” So “12th St. Pirates” takes from existing examples of apartheid and classism and places them in a climate justice framework, positing that we are going to take our societal ills into a climate altered future. As our climate situation worsens, there are segments of society that will choose to see walls as a fix, or on-the-water living as quaint, the delivery of mail or grocery by drone as exclusive, rather than face that these are fixtures of a dire reality in which millions of traditionally marginalized people are enduring an additional layer of suffering. We will adjust our mentalities to manufacture bright spots or sing the praises of technological adaptation or of local heroes who go viral doing the basic neighborly thing in an apocalypse scenario. But we will not address the overlapping realities of wealth inequality and racism and the treatment of our youth as expendable in time for what’s now a rapidly approaching future.
I promise I’m more fun at parties, by the way.
What is your writing process like? Did this story fit the pattern?
This was an atypical experience. Usually, I have a story take root through a song or a phrase I enjoy saying out loud, or wanting justice for someone I felt was maligned in a fairy tale once. And then the story grows around an aesthetic in this sort of accumulated snow situation where sections of it grow asynchronously until they can be stitched together in a coherent fashion. This was a situation where I was more interested in other people’s perspectives on the topic and I’d have been happy to just act as the curator for them. I think I struggled with finding something to say about climate justice that wasn’t just recycled messaging about activism and the evils of corporate greed, and was also compelling as a story. This ended up being the last story I had in my metaphorical trunk, though, so I’m glad it resonated somewhere!
What is your writing space like? What do you like to have around for optimal creativity?
I hand-write (Moleskine, 0.7mm Sharpie S-gel pen in blue) all drafts and then digitize at the editing stage, so it usually means I’m writing snatches of dialogue or sentences I think are clever at random points throughout the day wherever I am. I have to be in a Mood when transferring them to my computer so I stay focused, and that usually means appropriate lighting in a dark room, a jazz cigarette, these dulce de leche donuts I found one night during an ennui drive, and the story’s accompanying playlist on loop.
Did you get stuck at any point while writing this? How did you get past that?
I had a hard time with the ending and trying not to make the approach to tension feel corny or overwrought. Which . . . maybe it still is, but the open ending I felt was important. We’re already inundated with violent imagery against children and Black bodies specifically, so I wasn’t going to write that. But also due to our cultural saturation with it, it isn’t hard to imagine the true end of that scene and I think it’s important to acknowledge that we know what likely happens and why we know what likely happens. Alternatively, a reader could choose to envision a de-escalation, something refreshing and possible in this new stage of the world, and I haven’t robbed them of that ability. Unless maybe they read this interview.
Do you have any advice for other writers?
The priority should always be your being the biggest fan of your own story. Whomever else reads it and loves/hates it, or how far you get in your ambitions for it should be secondary. A story that gets published but that you’re ultimately embarrassed or disappointed to have produced will exist until the heat death of the universe and you will have to live with that knowledge. And if it goes nowhere whatsoever, at least you’ve created something you find worthwhile.
What trends in speculative fiction would you like to see gain popularity in the next few years?
I’d like to see a de-emphasis on tropes, actually. Weird works that aim to create new conventions, or try to explore what stories can be told if one is intentionally dodging formulaic approaches.
What are you working on lately? Where else can fans look for your work?
Lately, I’m working on shorts for a couple of collections I’m hoping to put out there. One is stories rooted in this sapphic neo-noir novella I wrote and wanted to expand, and the other is magical/dangerous stuff happening in/on/regarding trains. Also looking for a home for my mermaid duology: a retelling of The Little Mermaid, but from the perspective of Ariel and the prince’s granddaughter who has lived through the political fallout of their union only to have her throne usurped and must summon the assistance of a certain sea witch in order get it back. Also sapphic and vaguely murdery, because of course. I can be found on Twitter at @ellethevillain and links to the rest of my writing can be found at ldlewiswrites.com.
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