Empathy is a natural reaction to literature. Read Trevor Mackesey’s “The Containment Store” in the April issue, then come back here and see if you feel more human(e).

Interview by Diana Clarke

1. In “The Containment Store” you strike a really difficult balance between logical progression (the increasing percentage at which the machine reads Scott’s emotional makeup) and association (the emotionally charged moments that Scott recalls throughout the story and that slowly wear him away) that reads quite naturally. How did you arrive at that structure?

I was concerned with the story’s plot, which might be read as a young couple enters a store, speaks to a salesperson, and nothing happens, and initially used the percentages as a narrative crutch. My hope was that the numbers might act as shorthand for what was going on within Scott, signifying the progression you mention and later his change. I also hoped they’d operate as a unifying return, linking the memories and providing limited access to Scott for Anne and Andy, who are in some ways even more removed from what is happening than the reader.

2. I thought it was super-interesting that you paired emotionally invasive technology, which seems extremely contemporary/internetty, with the physicality of big box-style stores, which fade in importance with the rise of online shopping. How do you experience those places (internet/big-box store) as narrative spaces?

I’ve moved around a lot, and several times I’ve had this experience standing in the middle of a big box store when I’ve glitched and realized I could be in Miami or Reno or Bozeman. Considering how different those locations are, it’s a feeling that is both frightening for its implications and comforting in its emotional projection. You can’t always be where you’d like to be, but standing next to a wall of kitchen gadgets in a climate controlled, brick-and-mortar clone, you can imagine the exit will take you anywhere in the world that has been conquered by convenience and low, low prices. Continue reading →