I’ve never been to Alaska, but snowy places pop up a lot in my dreams. Probably because I hate the cold. Our subconscious is a playground for our anxieties, after all. Once I dreamt about a weird radio station called “Alask”. And sometimes I dream about another ice age.
Anyway, I scribbled down the story’s opening before I could forget it. I had no idea who the narrator was or what any of it meant. No clue who she had killed or why. All I had was her weird voice. So I just followed where it led and the story blossomed from there.
It's a story I'm very fond of and I was so happy when it was accepted by Black Static, for issue 49. It's my Black Static debut, in fact! I'm in some stellar company and I hope it won't be the last time something of mine graces its deep black pages.
If you like it, please let me know. I'd love to hear from you!