Q&A with Gillian Healy
We are so excited to publish a new piece of flash fiction this week! “The Beetle” by Gillian Healy is exactly as she describes it in this interview: a cymbal crash that quickly and powerfully illustrates a character’s life. Read below for an interview between Healy and our managing editor, Mina El Attar.
I loved your use of the beetle as a symbol in this story. I perceived the beetle as representative of the narrator, almost mirroring her own experience with the husband. Is that what you intended to portray? Is there a deeper meaning, symbolism, or purpose behind it?
Yes, that’s correct. The beetle indeed was representative of the narrator. I thought by mirroring the narrator in a tiny beetle it could portray her vulnerability. The lack of control she has in her relationship and her life. Speechless, small and just trying to survive amongst all the bigger, louder things in the world. The narrator as a being had become so small and insignificant in her own life that a tiny unnoticed beetle seemed the perfect fit for her in my mind.
How did you decide on the length of this piece? Are you particularly drawn to shorter fiction or was this a new medium for you?
I didn’t decide on a length for this story. I let it spill out of me. I am more drawn to shorter fiction as I like to divulge snapshots of a characters life. I think picking out a chapter of a characters life can sometimes be far more interesting than a longer more drawn out story. You can portray a lot within fiction that is less than 1000 words. It allows you to deeply expose and open up the character like the crash of a cymbal instead of a longer more drawn out symphony.
I would love to know more about what inspired this story. Is it something that you've been developing for a long time, or was it more of a spur of the moment piece that came together very quickly?
It was a spur of the moment piece. It was an observation I made while sitting in a cafe. I saw this woman who looked incredibly bored and tired sitting across from a man who seemed to be projecting at her. She was staring off into the distance. I saw a tiny black beetle on my table going unnoticed, carrying a crumb and then it just clicked with me and I wrote the piece in that moment. Obviously needed a good few edits but it just kind of spilled out of me.
I think this story reflects how people find themselves in relationships that maybe were never meant for them but because of timing and convenience they stay longer than intended. A lot of the time people float through life without fully understanding themselves and what they may have wanted out of their lives. It’s only later in life when you look in the mirror and wonder how did I get here? For how long have I been buried under the rubble of someone else’s bullshit?
