I love that “maybe I’m evil” thought. How did you capture that sense of childhood so well?
As a kid, I definitely felt evil on occasion (my baby doll always made me feel evil, because her cuteness made me want to ride over her face with my bike), and even now I sometimes worry that I’m not kind or giving or compassionate enough. It’s nice to hear that I captured a sense of childhood, but I think I was half-consciously reflecting on my adulthood, too.
That “nothing’s different” haunts me still. Is it risky to write such an ending?
I don’t know. It is sort of an anti-revelation, isn’t it? I guess I was thinking of myself as a kid, and how resistant I was to change and getting older. Adolescence is such a murky business; you can’t blame a girl for wanting to avoid it.
What drew you to the flash form?
My children. Most of my writing is done during naptimes, and sometimes in crayon, so I have to keep the storytelling brief. Actually, to be fair, I was attracted to the flash form before the kids were born. I love eavesdropping (who doesn’t?), and I’ve always found flash to be the literary equivalent.
What have been the elements of your summers?
In early summer, lightning bugs. In late summer, crickets. Lots of mosquitoes in between.
What’s it like to be a native Baltimorean? (I think I made the word up.)
Rest assured, Baltimorean is a real word. And to answer your question, it’s not so bad being a native. Sure, we could use better public transportation, as well as lower murder and Chlamydia rates, but great museums and restaurants abound, and in the summer, there are lots of sno-ball stands.