Watching the "Death Spasms" of Rationality with Evan Simon-Leack

Evan Simon-Leack writes science fiction from California. He occasionally branches into speculative horror or dark fantasy to take his life of chronic illness out on characters who probably don't deserve it. When not writing, he enjoys coffee and slow-blinking at the neighborhood cats. He would love for his stories to give someone else who's struggling the same momentary escape from reality that so many authors have given him.

Evan is the author of “Killing Yourself” from Issue 12.

 

Q: In what ways did you put elements of yourself or your history into “Killing Yourself”?

This is a very personal story for me. I’ve been isolated by chronic illness since high school, and I’ve struggled a lot with loneliness, depression, and suicidal ideation. I wanted a way to talk about that struggle despite the general taboo of talking about mental health issues, and science fiction has a history of providing a helpful separation from reality to discuss certain very real subjects from.

I poured a lot of myself into Jack, and much of the worldbuilding grew naturally around that, as I wanted to represent not just suicidal ideation, but specifically suicidal ideation stemming from social isolation. It also affected the direction the story went, as the original idea was much darker, but after putting so much of my own struggle into Jack it felt wrong, potentially even a self-fulfilling prophecy, to take the story in a really dark direction.

I feel we as a society need to be able to talk about mental health struggles, and I’m extremely grateful to Radon Journal for publishing and supporting this story.

Q: How does living with chronic illness change or influence you as a creator?

Immensely. While I’ve always enjoyed telling stories, writing has predominantly been a coping mechanism for me. It lets me live vicariously through my characters and gives me a constructive outlet for the directionless rage I would otherwise just be swallowing down. It’s a way to express otherwise inexpressible feelings.

If life had turned out differently, it’s possible I’d still be writing, but there’s no way it would be the same stories.

Q: What influences your decision to write in horror, dark fantasy, or science fiction at any particular time?

I wonder this myself. I self-identify as a science fiction writer, but lately most of my output has been horror.

Length is one consideration. For science fiction I generally like big, elaborate ideas, so if I sit down to write a flash piece it’ll likely be horror. Also, for the vast majority of my life, I was too squeamish and easily terrified to consume horror. Then, I hit that level of depression where I needed something other than myself to fear, and while I’ve yet to find anything as scary as my own mind, I’ve found I enjoy the creativity of spec horror and have been making up for lost time watching and reading it, which probably affects what I write. Finally, between my own ongoing medical saga and the current state of affairs in the United States, horror feels very appropriate.

Q: Do you think dystopian fiction is genuinely cautionary, or does it risk making the unacceptable feel inevitable and easier to accept?

Personally, I feel like we can’t avoid a future we don’t imagine. Dystopian fiction has always been a way to talk about horrible possible futures without having to live them first. It can be a way to examine where we might be headed, or a thought experiment about how we might behave when we get there. Or not! A stripped, depopulated Earth can be based on concern for our blatant disregard for sustainability, but it can also just be a metaphor for loneliness and isolation (although in my story, it’s both).

Or maybe it’s just the right setting for a story, with no deeper meaning. That’s just as legitimate a reason for a dystopian setting. Losing myself in the worlds other authors create has been a major coping mechanism for me, so I strongly dislike the concept that a story must speak to some fundamental truth about the human condition for it to have worth as literature.

Q: Do you tend to find the first line or the last line hardest to create?

The middle! This does not mean I manage good first and last lines, but in terms of difficulty writing them, it’s generally the middle that I trip over. I’m very far towards the discovery writer end of the spectrum, but most of my ideas involve a general beginning and a very specific end. It’s getting from one to the other that can be difficult.

Q: Which aspect of the present moment most directly feeds the world you've built? What are you actually warning about?

Aside from my own personal struggles, our consumerist economy [and] the wealthy prioritizing their excess of today over everyone else’s tomorrow, make me concerned about whether future generations are going to have a habitable Earth to live on.

I’m also extremely concerned with the amount of hatred and bigotry being normalized, as rational discussion is death-spasming from an inability to agree on basic reality. I generally try to have a variety of different kinds of people across my stories, as I’d love to normalize diversity. We’re not all the same, and that is absolutely wonderful. Supportive, inclusive community is extremely important, so the concept of aspects in my story, of having to pull an entire community out of a single person, is something I find terrifying.

Q: What's the hardest technical problem specific to short fiction? What is the thing that trips up even experienced writers?

For me, it’s what not to put on the page. I was raised in a detail-oriented family where all details were considered important. It’s left me rather summarizing impaired. While longer fiction can indulge (and do beautiful things with) an abundance of details, a big part of writing short stories is what not to say. 

Flash fiction, especially, can rely on the reader to fill in details about the world based on common knowledge. I still have a tendency to try to cram overly complicated worlds and plots into flash, and figuring out what concepts I can cut while still maintaining the integrity of my original idea can be a struggle. This also connects to my previously mentioned difficulty with middles. In longer fiction, it’s much easier to include all the events between the beginning and the end. In short stories, there’s not enough room, and I sometimes struggle with knowing which events to include to create a logical and satisfactory progression.

Answering the second question is how I get murdered by my fellow writers, so I’ll just say I feel like authors of all experience levels tend to have their own quirks and their own struggles.

Q: Short fiction doesn't always get the same commercial attention as novels. What keeps you committed to the form?

I used to mainly write longer stories, when I was still writing purely for myself. Then, one fateful summer, the power company browned us out for over a week due to fire concerns. I decided to hand-write stories, but knowing I’d have to type them up later felt like a pain. Especially having to type up a handwritten novel. That really seemed like a pain. I realize, logically, it’s the same number of words whether it’s chapters or individual stories, but short stories just felt like the way to go. And I found I really loved writing them (handwriting, not so much).

Short stories are wonderful. There’s a freedom to try new things, to take a wild idea and really run with it. Compared to novels, there’s also a lot more room for experimentation with short fiction. On top of all that, it feels rewarding to finish stories, and revisions feel a lot less overwhelming.

I do plan to write longform, too, but alongside short stories, not in place of them.

Q: Was there any music (1-3 songs) that you think would make a good mini-setlist for your story? Either ones that may have been on your mind, or ones that give readers a good idea of the themes?

I mostly listen to punk rock (I love you, The Offspring!), none of which really fits. The one song I can think of, though, is “The Sound of Silence” (Simon & Garfunkel). I feel it fits the story well. I also just really love that song and neurotically sing it over and over in the shower.

Editors' note: Paul Simon wrote "The Sound of Silence" in his bathroom as well.