Always Wishing Too Late
A Review of Here In The Dark by Meagan Lucas (with author interview)
By Justin Lee
I'm always wishing, I'm always wishing too late
For things to go my way, it always ends up the same.
"Boiled Frogs," Alexisonfire
When I think about the work of Meagan Lucas, I think about truth. There's an honesty to her words that, despite everything, peels back all the layers leaving everything exposed. The dents and edges. The hope that is hard earned. The gritted teeth that go along with trying to make it through another day, hour, or minute without losing another piece of yourself.
Collections can be tricky, but there's a beauty to them. If there is a story that doesn't land, there's always the next one. However, there is something to be said about a collection without a skipper. No wasted words. Nothing disposable. What makes or breaks a collection for me is cohesion. The stories don't have to be connected by characters or plot. But all the truly great ones have thematic connections. The stories may have different writing styles or stakes, but there is something there that lingers. Something that lets you know that these stories are all working together to tell something honest. I know there have been a lot of Dorothy Allison comparatives thrown at Lucas. They are all totally earned and warranted in the best possible ways. But, if I was going to compare her to anyone, it's gotta be Lucia Berlin. Simple, clean writing with no hand holding. No pressure to fit into a genre or to write in a certain style.
With Here In The Dark, I think Lucas is trying to tell us about how the things that hold us can still hurt us. Haunt us even. In my personal favorite story of this collection, "Frogs in a Pot," there is a line that absolutely underlines everything for me: "They live in the greatest country in the world and paid off their mortgage in six years." The events that lead up to this line are better discovered than told by me. But, even without the context of the story, that unadorned line says a lot. For me, all I could think about was how little that stuff actually matters. At the end of the day, the job that allows you to pay off that mortgage early isn't going to save you. The country that may or may not be the greatest isn't going to save you. Even marriage has its constraints. Not that marriage is bad, Lucas just gives us a glimpse of one that is, well, awful. Not in the stereotypical way most failing marriages are. In this story, this marriage is depicted in a way that is generally thought of as ideal. A paid off home. A husband that makes enough money to more than just provide for his family. But, when there is a crack in a person that can quickly shatter in a million pieces. It almost feels like even if the calamitous event never was to take place this marriage would still fai. Like the pieces were never going to fit. The thing that will, the thing that is gonna get you through that dark night of the soul, comes down to what you're willing to do to make it out the other side.
There is a heart deep down in these stories that beats hard. Lucas leans into the bumps and bruises, the dents and edges, and finds a kind of hope through it all. A hope that has its own sharp edges because it was forged in a world like ours.
Interview with the Author
JL: Would you mind giving an introduction to the people who may be unfamiliar with you and your work?
ML: Hello! Thrilled to be here! I am Meagan Lucas, I’m the author of the award-winning novel, Songbirds and Stray Dogs, and the new collection, Here in the Dark. My short work has been in places like: Cowboy Jamboree, BULL, Rock and a Hard Place, and Dark Yonder, etc. I have been nominated for the Pushcart, Best of the Net, Derringer, and Canadian Crime Writers Award of Excellence, and my story “The Monster Beneath” made the Distinguished list in this year’s Best American Mystery and Suspense. I teach Creative Writing at Robert Morris University, and in the Great Smokies Writing Program at UNC-Asheville, and I’m the Editor in Chief of Reckon Review. I live in Western North Carolina, and write female-focused, rural, grit-lit/noir.
JL: Who are some of your biggest influences?
ML: Ron Rash, Dorothy Allison, Bonnie Jo Campbell, and Flannery O’Connor.
JL: Do you have a desert island book?
ML: You know… I haven’t thought about this before, it might be George Singleton’s You Want More, or Lauren Groff’s Florida, or Nathan Ballingrud’s North American Lake Monsters...Oh! Or Ashleigh Bryant Phillips’ Sleepovers, but definitely a short story collection.
JL: You cover a lot of ground in this collection. There are stories that dabble in Dirty Realism, Horror, and Noir. Most of my favorite writers know no genre and nothing is off limits. Did you seek out to dabble in all of those styles or was that something that happened organically? How does that affect the story you are trying to tell?
ML: I definitely aspire to have nothing off limits. Even when it is terrifyingly personal, as it frequently is. There are a lot of topics covered in Here in the Dark that don’t make me super popular at the family dinner table, but I don’t think much of “gentle” society, and I think everything would be better if we could just talk about our ugly, and not be ashamed.
Genre is really about marketing, right? Where does this story fall on the shelf so that it can find the right readers? That’s not really the writer’s problem, that’s up to the publisher and the bookstores. Genre-wise, the only story in the collection that I set out intentionally to make a particular genre was “The Monster Beneath.” I wrote it in response to an anthology call that Joey Poole put out for noir stories… with cryptids. I’ve never written about a cryptid before, but I love noir, and I trust Joey (he writes terrific cryptid noir stories), so I wrote that story for him. The stories in this collection were written over a six year period, and I started in lit fic, so my older stories lean that way, but I’ve always been a fan of crime fiction (and really, I would say that Songbirds and Stray Dogs is sort of a crime novel) and as Songbirds gained an audience in the horror community I started reading more horror (Gabino Iglesias, Nathan Ballingrud, Laurel Hightower, C.W. Blackwell, Coy Hall, Ross Jeffrey, V. Castro, Stephen Graham Jones), and I found that those genre elements were creeping into my work unintentionally. So my reading, and my own desire not to bore myself was probably the impetus, but I also think as I’ve developed as a writer, and a person, that I’m braver now than I was at the beginning. I’m more likely to take risks now, (with craft and topic) and the tropes or expectations of genre are just tools, you can use them as you like to tell the best story. Cowboy Jamboree put out a call for stories prompted by “asquint” (great word!) and so I wrote “Buttons” for Adam. What started as what I’d call a Southern Gothic tale, takes a body horror turn cause that was just what I felt served the story best. I didn't plan that going in – the story just takes on a life of its own, and I think the writer just follows, and the more tools they have the better the story will be, but I don’t think anyone who is doing a good job at this is really worried about genre. I leave that problem to my agent and publishers.
JL: There has been a real shift in the grit-lit camp within the past decade. The genre has started inching away from the typical rural stereotypes and has embraced new styles of storytelling. S.A. Cosby, Eli Cranor, Steph Post, and you are some of the most prominent voices out there. What would you like to see more of going forward? What changes could be made?
ML: I LOVE what Shawn is doing and I think we need to see more of it. He is goddamn brilliant. Steph is a dear friend and one of the most fearless writers, and best people, I know. And I love Eli’s work (and I’m the least sportsball-y person on the planet.) I also want to point out Laura McHugh, Kelly J. Ford, and Iris Yamashita are writing terrific rural grit-lit. I REALLY want to see more stories from women of color. I want to see more stories from queer writers, and trans writers, and non-binary writers. I want more stories by indigenous writers, and immigrant writers, and writers with disabilities. One would think from the work that was published in the past that only straight, cis, white, able-bodied men wrote this stuff and that’s not true, and it’s also really fucking boring to hear the same voice all the time. There are so many valuable, interesting voices that need to be heard. This might not be popular, but I want to read more stories written by white men that aren’t only about white men. Yes, we need to hold space for people to tell their own stories, and there is a huge responsibility on the part of the writer to get it right, but I also want to see white men using their platforms to draw attention to other voices. David Joy’s newest, and Brian Panowich’s forthcoming book are doing this and I love it.
I think there have been some strides made towards seeing more women in grit-lit, but I think there should be more. I see too many Noir at the Bar events, too many panels, where there is only one woman (usually white), or only one person of color, and that’s bullshit and lazy-as-fuck. I think (especially emerging) writers are afraid of being demanding of organizers, are afraid of losing spots that they fought hard to get (I’m guilty of this too). They are afraid to fight for spots diverse writers because it feels like they’re giving away their piece of the pie. But it doesn’t work that way. There is no shortage of pie. We all rise together. And I’m going to be better at demanding diversity at events I’m involved in, asking if there are spaces, or if they are willing to make space for writers whose voices are heard less often, and making my participation contingent on that, and I hope that other writers who have a position of privilege will do that too.
JL: You are the EIC over at Reckon Review. That has to be difficult balancing that, your writing career, and your family. Would you mind sharing a bit about how you do it?
ML: You mean other than poorly? Lol. I’m a list maker, that helps. I also think I work pretty well under deadlines. I think the big thing is that while writing is my work, it’s also really my only hobby other than reading. I like to bake at holidays. But I don’t really watch TV, or hike, or craft, or play a sport. Multi-tasking too: I work out plot problems on the treadmill. I grade papers or edit stories while I wait in parking lots for my kids. In many of ways my life doesn’t have a lot of balance, but it works for me. When I first started writing I got the terrific advice that it always needs to be about the work. It can’t be about publications or attention or accolades. Those things are rare and fleeting. The passion needs to come from the joy that doing the work brings, and I couldn’t agree more. I’m never more content then when I have a pen in my hand.
JL: Who are you reading right now?
ML: I’m reading Never Whistle at Night this incredible dark fiction collection by Indigenous authors, edited by Shane Hawk and Theodore Van Alst, and The School for Good Mothers by Jessamine Chan, (I usually have a novel and a collection going at the same time) and I’m listening to The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride.
JL: What's next for Meagan Lucas?
M: Well, I’m in the middle of touring with my second book, Here in the Dark right now, so it feels like all I do is laundry or wait at the airport – I don’t know when y’all are going to publish this, but if folks want to try to catch me on the road my schedule is on my website www.meaganlucas.com. Reckon Review my baby lit mag is growing like crazy. Next week we are going to announce the addition of three new editors and a couple new readers, who are all just dynamite, and I’m super excited about that. Writing wise, I’m working on another novel, and I have about half of a collection of short stories on the go, and my agent and I have a novel out on sub, – so everyone cross their fingers for me, please?
A Review of Here In The Dark by Meagan Lucas (with author interview)
By Justin Lee
I'm always wishing, I'm always wishing too late
For things to go my way, it always ends up the same.
"Boiled Frogs," Alexisonfire
When I think about the work of Meagan Lucas, I think about truth. There's an honesty to her words that, despite everything, peels back all the layers leaving everything exposed. The dents and edges. The hope that is hard earned. The gritted teeth that go along with trying to make it through another day, hour, or minute without losing another piece of yourself.
Collections can be tricky, but there's a beauty to them. If there is a story that doesn't land, there's always the next one. However, there is something to be said about a collection without a skipper. No wasted words. Nothing disposable. What makes or breaks a collection for me is cohesion. The stories don't have to be connected by characters or plot. But all the truly great ones have thematic connections. The stories may have different writing styles or stakes, but there is something there that lingers. Something that lets you know that these stories are all working together to tell something honest. I know there have been a lot of Dorothy Allison comparatives thrown at Lucas. They are all totally earned and warranted in the best possible ways. But, if I was going to compare her to anyone, it's gotta be Lucia Berlin. Simple, clean writing with no hand holding. No pressure to fit into a genre or to write in a certain style.
With Here In The Dark, I think Lucas is trying to tell us about how the things that hold us can still hurt us. Haunt us even. In my personal favorite story of this collection, "Frogs in a Pot," there is a line that absolutely underlines everything for me: "They live in the greatest country in the world and paid off their mortgage in six years." The events that lead up to this line are better discovered than told by me. But, even without the context of the story, that unadorned line says a lot. For me, all I could think about was how little that stuff actually matters. At the end of the day, the job that allows you to pay off that mortgage early isn't going to save you. The country that may or may not be the greatest isn't going to save you. Even marriage has its constraints. Not that marriage is bad, Lucas just gives us a glimpse of one that is, well, awful. Not in the stereotypical way most failing marriages are. In this story, this marriage is depicted in a way that is generally thought of as ideal. A paid off home. A husband that makes enough money to more than just provide for his family. But, when there is a crack in a person that can quickly shatter in a million pieces. It almost feels like even if the calamitous event never was to take place this marriage would still fai. Like the pieces were never going to fit. The thing that will, the thing that is gonna get you through that dark night of the soul, comes down to what you're willing to do to make it out the other side.
There is a heart deep down in these stories that beats hard. Lucas leans into the bumps and bruises, the dents and edges, and finds a kind of hope through it all. A hope that has its own sharp edges because it was forged in a world like ours.
Interview with the Author
JL: Would you mind giving an introduction to the people who may be unfamiliar with you and your work?
ML: Hello! Thrilled to be here! I am Meagan Lucas, I’m the author of the award-winning novel, Songbirds and Stray Dogs, and the new collection, Here in the Dark. My short work has been in places like: Cowboy Jamboree, BULL, Rock and a Hard Place, and Dark Yonder, etc. I have been nominated for the Pushcart, Best of the Net, Derringer, and Canadian Crime Writers Award of Excellence, and my story “The Monster Beneath” made the Distinguished list in this year’s Best American Mystery and Suspense. I teach Creative Writing at Robert Morris University, and in the Great Smokies Writing Program at UNC-Asheville, and I’m the Editor in Chief of Reckon Review. I live in Western North Carolina, and write female-focused, rural, grit-lit/noir.
JL: Who are some of your biggest influences?
ML: Ron Rash, Dorothy Allison, Bonnie Jo Campbell, and Flannery O’Connor.
JL: Do you have a desert island book?
ML: You know… I haven’t thought about this before, it might be George Singleton’s You Want More, or Lauren Groff’s Florida, or Nathan Ballingrud’s North American Lake Monsters...Oh! Or Ashleigh Bryant Phillips’ Sleepovers, but definitely a short story collection.
JL: You cover a lot of ground in this collection. There are stories that dabble in Dirty Realism, Horror, and Noir. Most of my favorite writers know no genre and nothing is off limits. Did you seek out to dabble in all of those styles or was that something that happened organically? How does that affect the story you are trying to tell?
ML: I definitely aspire to have nothing off limits. Even when it is terrifyingly personal, as it frequently is. There are a lot of topics covered in Here in the Dark that don’t make me super popular at the family dinner table, but I don’t think much of “gentle” society, and I think everything would be better if we could just talk about our ugly, and not be ashamed.
Genre is really about marketing, right? Where does this story fall on the shelf so that it can find the right readers? That’s not really the writer’s problem, that’s up to the publisher and the bookstores. Genre-wise, the only story in the collection that I set out intentionally to make a particular genre was “The Monster Beneath.” I wrote it in response to an anthology call that Joey Poole put out for noir stories… with cryptids. I’ve never written about a cryptid before, but I love noir, and I trust Joey (he writes terrific cryptid noir stories), so I wrote that story for him. The stories in this collection were written over a six year period, and I started in lit fic, so my older stories lean that way, but I’ve always been a fan of crime fiction (and really, I would say that Songbirds and Stray Dogs is sort of a crime novel) and as Songbirds gained an audience in the horror community I started reading more horror (Gabino Iglesias, Nathan Ballingrud, Laurel Hightower, C.W. Blackwell, Coy Hall, Ross Jeffrey, V. Castro, Stephen Graham Jones), and I found that those genre elements were creeping into my work unintentionally. So my reading, and my own desire not to bore myself was probably the impetus, but I also think as I’ve developed as a writer, and a person, that I’m braver now than I was at the beginning. I’m more likely to take risks now, (with craft and topic) and the tropes or expectations of genre are just tools, you can use them as you like to tell the best story. Cowboy Jamboree put out a call for stories prompted by “asquint” (great word!) and so I wrote “Buttons” for Adam. What started as what I’d call a Southern Gothic tale, takes a body horror turn cause that was just what I felt served the story best. I didn't plan that going in – the story just takes on a life of its own, and I think the writer just follows, and the more tools they have the better the story will be, but I don’t think anyone who is doing a good job at this is really worried about genre. I leave that problem to my agent and publishers.
JL: There has been a real shift in the grit-lit camp within the past decade. The genre has started inching away from the typical rural stereotypes and has embraced new styles of storytelling. S.A. Cosby, Eli Cranor, Steph Post, and you are some of the most prominent voices out there. What would you like to see more of going forward? What changes could be made?
ML: I LOVE what Shawn is doing and I think we need to see more of it. He is goddamn brilliant. Steph is a dear friend and one of the most fearless writers, and best people, I know. And I love Eli’s work (and I’m the least sportsball-y person on the planet.) I also want to point out Laura McHugh, Kelly J. Ford, and Iris Yamashita are writing terrific rural grit-lit. I REALLY want to see more stories from women of color. I want to see more stories from queer writers, and trans writers, and non-binary writers. I want more stories by indigenous writers, and immigrant writers, and writers with disabilities. One would think from the work that was published in the past that only straight, cis, white, able-bodied men wrote this stuff and that’s not true, and it’s also really fucking boring to hear the same voice all the time. There are so many valuable, interesting voices that need to be heard. This might not be popular, but I want to read more stories written by white men that aren’t only about white men. Yes, we need to hold space for people to tell their own stories, and there is a huge responsibility on the part of the writer to get it right, but I also want to see white men using their platforms to draw attention to other voices. David Joy’s newest, and Brian Panowich’s forthcoming book are doing this and I love it.
I think there have been some strides made towards seeing more women in grit-lit, but I think there should be more. I see too many Noir at the Bar events, too many panels, where there is only one woman (usually white), or only one person of color, and that’s bullshit and lazy-as-fuck. I think (especially emerging) writers are afraid of being demanding of organizers, are afraid of losing spots that they fought hard to get (I’m guilty of this too). They are afraid to fight for spots diverse writers because it feels like they’re giving away their piece of the pie. But it doesn’t work that way. There is no shortage of pie. We all rise together. And I’m going to be better at demanding diversity at events I’m involved in, asking if there are spaces, or if they are willing to make space for writers whose voices are heard less often, and making my participation contingent on that, and I hope that other writers who have a position of privilege will do that too.
JL: You are the EIC over at Reckon Review. That has to be difficult balancing that, your writing career, and your family. Would you mind sharing a bit about how you do it?
ML: You mean other than poorly? Lol. I’m a list maker, that helps. I also think I work pretty well under deadlines. I think the big thing is that while writing is my work, it’s also really my only hobby other than reading. I like to bake at holidays. But I don’t really watch TV, or hike, or craft, or play a sport. Multi-tasking too: I work out plot problems on the treadmill. I grade papers or edit stories while I wait in parking lots for my kids. In many of ways my life doesn’t have a lot of balance, but it works for me. When I first started writing I got the terrific advice that it always needs to be about the work. It can’t be about publications or attention or accolades. Those things are rare and fleeting. The passion needs to come from the joy that doing the work brings, and I couldn’t agree more. I’m never more content then when I have a pen in my hand.
JL: Who are you reading right now?
ML: I’m reading Never Whistle at Night this incredible dark fiction collection by Indigenous authors, edited by Shane Hawk and Theodore Van Alst, and The School for Good Mothers by Jessamine Chan, (I usually have a novel and a collection going at the same time) and I’m listening to The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride.
JL: What's next for Meagan Lucas?
M: Well, I’m in the middle of touring with my second book, Here in the Dark right now, so it feels like all I do is laundry or wait at the airport – I don’t know when y’all are going to publish this, but if folks want to try to catch me on the road my schedule is on my website www.meaganlucas.com. Reckon Review my baby lit mag is growing like crazy. Next week we are going to announce the addition of three new editors and a couple new readers, who are all just dynamite, and I’m super excited about that. Writing wise, I’m working on another novel, and I have about half of a collection of short stories on the go, and my agent and I have a novel out on sub, – so everyone cross their fingers for me, please?