Jennifer Jeanne McArdle’s lifelong fascination, and eventual work, with animal conservation greatly informs her Brave New Weird-featured story, “The Mules”.
“The Mules” explores a post-apocalyptic reality where a pandemic-ravaged earth—I know, far-fetched, right?—might only be set to rights thanks to one of humanity’s earlier technological innovations.
I chatted with Jennifer about her budding clairvoyance; the exploitation of military veterans; and the humble mule: mankind’s greatest invention?
These responses have been edited for clarity.
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What does Weird mean to you, in the context of storytelling?
I try to think of the emotions encompassed in that word: disgust, curiosity, surprise. If something is truly Weird, I guess it should evoke those feelings in most of its audience. It should ask the audience why they perceive something as Weird and less worthy of acceptance. What makes it transgressive? Would accepting this Weird thing really hurt society?
I spent a lot of my childhood being called "weird" by peers (and sometimes teachers) for many reasons. I had a hard time expressing my feelings and socializing in ways other kids understood. I was forgetful and disorganized. When I was growing up, girls, more than boys, were expected to be neat and competent.
I deviated from gender norms of 90s American kids—in behavior, interests, clothing—so my perceived sexuality and gender were often commented on or mocked; sometimes pretty viciously. New friends [would] admit they didn't know if I was a boy or a girl. Sometimes this was frustrating; but sometimes it was freeing because it meant that I could explore my interests, like aliens, biology, superhero cartoons, etc., with less fear of judgment. So gender and gender expression has always interested me. Recently, I've been trying to read more work by trans, intersex, and gender fluid creators and thinkers (including Tenebrous Press's anthology, Your Body is Not Your Body.)
Jordan, my character in “The Mules”, is treated as "weird" by her society over things she can’t control: the fact that she was born without a biological sex in a society where fertility is a struggle. She's totally removed from the game of even trying to be fertile. At the same time, the things that make her Weird also make her uniquely useful for her society. It's a very Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer-type situation (sorry, I have Christmas on the brain, and someone pointed out how very capitalist American Santa mythology is).
Fungus, too, is Weird. It's not really a plant or an animal, and we're always discovering more about it. I've always [found] it fascinating. And mules are Weird animals for many reasons. They don't have the prestige of horses. They're not quite as attractive.
You’ve made a great segue to your BRAVE NEW WEIRD story, “The Mules”, which seems informed by your work in animal conservation. Can you elaborate on that experience?
When I wrote it in late 2019, I was [not yet] actually working in animal conservation. I was working as a grants officer for a nonprofit that did legal work. However, I've always loved animals. As a kid, I was in 4-H and raised ducks and had a cat, a dog, parakeets, and cockatiels.
Thinking about how animals become domesticated; animal intelligence and consciousness; and the history of human interactions with animals, was always something I found fascinating. I have always been [interested in] biology and zoology as a hobby; and in summer 2021, I got a new job as a grants officer for an animal conservation organization.
Related to this story: while I'm glad that we might be moving into a future where we have alternative meat sources and real animals may not have to suffer anymore, what does that mean for all the animals we've spent hundreds or thousands of years breeding and raising? Cattle farming is awful for the environment, but is that the fault of the cows? What happens to them if we phase that out? I don't know. I'm a hypocrite because I eat meat, but I get very sentimental towards animals.
I lived in Indonesia while serving in the Peace Corps from 2014-2016, [and] I took part in some of the Muslim holidays where animals were sacrificed. I felt it was respectful to the animal to watch it be killed, but I couldn't bring myself to pet the goats or cows before they were killed—I knew I'd be too sad. Some of my fellow Peace Corps volunteers in Indonesia complained they didn't like how animals might be sacrificed or transported in small cages on motor bikes, etc., but I've visited commercial farms in the US during my 4-H days. Honestly, most of the animals I saw on small farms in Indonesia probably had much better lives than most of our domestic farm animals in the US.
Although the origin of the virus in “The Mules” is cosmic, the parallels between it and our own terra-bound situation are pretty evident. How much did the pandemic influence its genesis? Or did it at all?
The initial draft and idea was not influenced by the pandemic, though probably some of my revisions were. I also have another story [that was] written in late 2018 about a plague that killed off the dragons, so maybe I have some latent precognitive abilities!
But people have been talking about the prospect of a global pandemic for years. I don't think the fact that we have a pandemic now is a huge surprise, exactly, even if how it went was not how people might have predicted.
The idea came [during] an anthology call for stories about a piece of technology that used to be vitally important suddenly becoming useful again. Shortly after, I watched a YouTube video about the importance of mules in medieval society. So I wanted to look at mules, an early example of human genetic engineering, as the "technology" and imagine a situation where they would be vitally important. My interest in biology and gender probably fueled the rest.
It went through about 23 rejections before Bear Creek Gazette accepted it in June 2022. During that time I made a lot of revisions: breaking up and cutting exposition, editing the second half to make it more impactful. Looking at it now, I can see parallels to how we treat our own healthcare and essential workers "after" the pandemic, and the contradictions of honoring them but not actually helping them, and continuing to ask for their sacrifice.
I am not sure what initially inspired me to focus the second half of the story on a forgotten hero narrative. My dad is a veteran of the Iraq conflict. He was an electrician at the veterans hospital for years and still volunteers with the local Veterans of Foreign Wars post. I have complex feelings about the military and that conflict that I won't get into here.
As someone with family members past and present involved in the US military: so do I.
“Honoring our veterans" is a term people use for political clout, and veterans issues sometimes get more attention than other causes. But often, actual help for veterans is symbolic more than concrete and lacks real funding or initiative. Perhaps that inspired me.
Maybe it was my own frustration coming out. Not that I'm any kind of hero like my MC [is], but after I returned from the Peace Corps, I struggled to find a job. A lot of people kept telling me outside job interviews that my Peace Corps service was impressive or even "noble", but during actual interviews my experience was often dismissed as silly, unimportant, or unprofessional.
Maybe I was just wondering—in our society that focuses so much on proving your worth through production—what happens to our weird Rudolphs after they're done being useful?
What does your writing setup look like? Do you have an office? A preferred coffee shop? The back of the bus? Standing under your neighbor’s eaves, avoiding the rain?
I live in the first floor apartment of a shared house and have a small back room where I work and write. Since the start of the pandemic, I’m rarely required to go into the office and I don't have children (at least for now). So, I’m lucky to have extra time to focus on writing; I’m taking advantage while it lasts.
When I lived in South Korea in my early 20s, I used to love going to little cafes to write or do grad school work, etc. Korean cities, especially Seoul, have cafes nearly everywhere, and each one tries to [have] a unique schtick and design. I liked that. Where I live now, in suburban New York, there aren't many cafes that feel conducive to writing. Maybe I haven't found the right one yet.
In my old apartment, I didn't have a special space for me; I was just at the kitchen table most of the time. My partner's car parts somehow ended up in there, too, in an ever-growing pile—a House of Leaves-type situation, except with car parts and not house rooms—so I'm glad we have a little more space now.
On the Tenebrous Discord, we ask everyone to introduce themselves as a Film-meets-Music Artist (Citizen Kane x Metallica, f’rinstance). It doesn’t have to be your favorite, and don’t spend too much time overthinking it; now GO.
Oh, I'm always bad at this kind of thing. The Wizard of Oz x Flogging Molly, I guess?
What’s next for 2023?
I have one more story coming out in 2022 in All Worlds Wayfarer issue 13 on December 21st. I also have quite a few stories in anthologies or magazine issues slated to come out next year. I guess I will keep writing and creating and submitting! Keep hoping that people find some kind of meaning in my work. I want to continue to support other indie writers and hope to visit more in-person conventions. This year I went to Necronomicon in Rhode Island and Phil Con outside Philadelphia.
I have a rudimentary website, nothing very fancy, but please visit if you want to see a list of my published and upcoming work, and feel free to contact me through the contact form there or via Twitter (for now), if you want to ask me anything. Obviously I love blabbering on.
Brave New Weird: The Best New Weird Horror Vol. One, is out February 6, 2023. Preorder information coming soon.
