I wrote the skeleton of the story in a matter of minutes after arriving to work one morning in the middle of February (just days before "Downhill" was published in Eschatology, shared here), which is smack dab in the middle of the rare, three or four month window for rain in Los Angeles. That gorgeously gloomy, rainy morning, the top of the twin Century Plaza Towers that mark the white collar enclave of Century City (which boasts as its biggest claim to fame - at least in my mind - as being the primary location of Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, almost immediately after it was constructed), and the upper floors of all other modest skyscrapers in the area, including my own office building, were swaddled tight by a thick layer of viscous, bright white clouds, that reminded me of a cappuccino, or, as my story details, something far more sinister but no less tasty.
I love finding the horror in the benign, the dread in the beautiful. From religion to home to a burst of welcome weather, disrupting the security of the common and cozy is one of my top goals as a speculative fiction writer. Yes, I'm an asshole. Just hopefully an entertaining and slightly interesting one. :)
