I’m a librarian, and so it’s probably no surprise that research plays a major role in my writing process. Unlike scholarly articles, works of fiction don’t typically contain citations to sources. I would, however, like to recognize some works that helped me to imagine my way into these fictional worlds.
The idea for this story came from the article “Beekeepers Hit Hard by Thefts of Hives” in National Geographic, with text by Rene Ebersole and photographs by Lucas Foglia. Foglia’s photo of almond growers Gurcharan and Daljit Rakkar, for example, served as the inspiration for Erjot Singh and his father in the story. I also drew from “Colony Collapse Disorder Is Not What You Think” by Willy Blackmore in TakePart.
The description of Taylor and Andrea’s house was informed by “Traditions and Change in Nineteenth-Century Iowa Farmhouses” by Fred W. Peterson, published in The Annals of Iowa.
For help thinking about Guy and Taylor, queer people of different generations, both seeking to make lives for themselves in the rural Midwest, I consulted oral histories gathered by projects like StoryCorps’ Stonewall OutLoud, The Country Queers Podcast, and lgbt Oral Histories of Central Iowa. I also drew specifically from an interview with the activist Hector Black reported by Ari Shapiro on npr’s All Things Considered (“90-Year-Old Gay Man Recalls Long Struggle With His Sexuality”). Mr. Black led a remarkable life; he died in 2020 at the age of ninety-five.
I consulted a number of sources about bees and beekeeping. I relied especially on The Beekeeper’s Handbook by Diana Sammataro and Alphonse Avitabile, and The Backyard Beekeeper, 4th Edition: An Absolute Beginner’s Guide to Keeping Bees in Your Yard and Garden by Kim Flottum. Beekeeper Gretchen Woelke reviewed the final draft and offered comments on all things bee-related.
There is a moment in the story in which Guy considers Taylor’s gender in relation his own feelings of identification and desire. My thinking about what is happening in that scene was influenced by engagement with drag performances by Alana Kumbier (among others), queer spaces curated by producers such as Aliza Shapiro, and scholarly work by gender theorists—especially Jack Halberstam’s Female Masculinities.
All at Sea
This story began as an experiment in style. I love Lorrie Moore’s 2nd-person narrators in her collection Self-Help, and wanted to see if I could write a story using this point of view. As I got deeper into the story, I realized that the 2nd person was also functioning to compel the reader into an intimate relation with the speaker, a mentally ill and hiv-positive woman, who they might otherwise resist connecting with. I also did a nontrivial amount of research about fairy penguins, very little of which made it into the final draft.
The style was also influenced by the work of poets performing as part of the Boston Poetry Slam, particularly that of Melissa Newman Evans.
The experience of living and dating as an hiv-positive woman were drawn from many conversations with my dear friend, the artist Abi Rupp. Abi gave me permission to share some of these experiences in fictional form and reviewed an early draft of the story. She took her own life in October of 2015 and is sorely missed by all who knew her.
The Master of Sleep
This story, at its core, is a retelling of Franz Kafka’s “The Hunger Artist,” as will no doubt be obvious to anyone familiar with that tale.
Ethan Clark, author of the memoir Leaning with Intent to Fall, agreed to let me use an anecdote about a bicyclist charging two stray dogs. The photographs on Geneva’s walls are based on images by Phil Hollenbeck in Freaks and Fire: The Underground Reinvention of Circus by J. Dee Hill.
To supplement my memories of New Orleans’ traditions of bike modification, I consulted the photos collected in New Orleans Bicycles by Nicholas Costarides and Mary Richardson.
I drew on a number of sources to try to understand the experience of being a drone pilot. My key sources included Predator: the Remote-Control Air War over Iraq and Afghanistan: a Pilot’s Story by Major Matt J. Martin and the journalist Charles W. Sasser, “Confessions of a Drone Warrior” in GQ with text by Matthew Power and photographs by Ethan Levitas, and Drone Warfare: Killing by Remote Control by Medea Benjamin.
Other sources included “With Shift to Drones, War is Often Waged from Home” by Brian Bennet in the LA Times (July 29, 2012), “The Air Force Men Who Fly Drones in Afghanistan by Remote Control” by Rob Blackhurst in The Telegraph, “Combat by Camera: Anatomy of an Afghan War Tragedy” by David S. Cloud in the LA Times (April 10, 2011), “Remote Warriors: How Drone Pilots Wage War” by Marc Pitzke and “Interview with a Drone Pilot: ‘It Is Not a Video Game’” (Interview with US Major Bryan Callahan) in Der Spiegel, “Two Worlds of a Drone Pilot” by Megan McCloskey in Stars and Stripes (October 27, 2009), “Drone Strikes: A Candid, Chilling Conversation with Top U.S. Drone Pilot” by David Wood in The Huffington Post, “A Day Job Waiting for a Kill Shot a World Away” by Elisabeth Bumiller in The New York Times, “Spartans Carry Out Biometric Operations” by Specialist Erik-James Estrada in Air Force Print News Today, and “Army’s Mission in Khost Province Tedious but Critical” by Carmen Genille in USA Today (June 25, 2012).
I also consulted a number of studies of strip-club culture. Of these, G-Strings and Sympathy: Strip Club Regulars and Male Desire by Katherine Frank helped me the most to understand the dynamics in the scene between the protagonist and “Frankie.”
The Death of Elpenor
For this story, I drew from several translations of and commentaries on The Odyssey, Ezra Pound’s “Canto I,” and reference works about ancient Greece held in Harvard’s Widener Library Reading Room (I forget which ones, exactly). I also drew from works concerned with Greek notions of fate (moira) and from Jonathan Shay’s Achilles in Vietnam: Combat Trauma and the Undoing of Character.
The initial idea for the story was prompted by the philosopher John Stuart Mill’s famous statement in Utilitarianism:
It is better to be a human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied. And if the fool, or the pig, are of a different opinion, it is because they only know their own side of the question.
The standard critique of this argument is that human beings also “only know their own side of the question,” and, having no special access to the phenomenal experience of pigs, are in no position to evaluate their pleasures or compare them to those of human beings. My idea was to consider the question from the point of view of a character who had experienced both forms of embodiment and was in a position to describe the difference: a member of Odysseus’s crew who had been turned into a pig and then returned to his human form.
Elpenor’s comment that animals are not aware of their own finitude, that they “learn about death from dying” comes from a statement by Arthur Schopenhauer in The World as Will and Representation (I):
[Animals] live in the present alone; [a human being] lives at the same time in the future and the past […] The animal learns to know death only when he dies, but man consciously draws every hour nearer his death.