Crossing borders, assuming identities, infiltrating the unknown with the intention of uncovering and transmitting secret maneuvers, fraudulent agendas, hidden lives: the spy and the artist, I think, are kindred spirits.
And in that spirit, I’m writing a series of stories called The Watchers. The stories are all short and mostly very strange. In one, an agent infiltrates a sleeping man’s bedroom via the miniature submarine in his aquarium. In another, a band of partisans falls in with the only thing more dangerous than enemy soldiers: a group of carousing teenagers.
This is some of the most personal fiction I’ve written, mixing up autobiographical elements with bits and pieces of my dream life. The first story, “What We Trained For,” came ready-made in the form of a dream about a mission I was on with a childhood friend. After I wrote that down, I started having more dreams like it, and I wrote those down, too. Once the feedback loop took over, I gave myself over to its logic. My friends and I are super spies now, and it turns out that we have a lot of work to do.
Image: Brodsky & Utkin, “Wandering Turtle in a Maze of a Big City.” Source.