YA KidLit ALERT!
A.A. Vacharat Interview
Good day, readers, writers, and creatives,
I’m beyond excited to introduce one of my favorite writers and fearless friend, A.A. Vacharat. We first met at an SCBWI event here in North Carolina and quickly discovered we were both based in Asheville. From that moment on, we became writing partners, pushing each other to dig deeper, write better, and keep going. I’m thrilled to cheer her on as she launches her debut YA novel, This Moth Saw Brightness. I’ve had a sneak peek, and let me tell you—this book will crack open your mind in the best way, leaving you forever changed.
A.A. Vacharat is one of those rare creators who can weave together science, technology, and just the right amount of absurdity into stories that surprise, challenge, and reward readers who are paying attention. With an MFA from VCFA and a background that spans neuroscience to Broadway, she brings a uniquely layered perspective to her work. Beyond her brilliant writing, she’s also my incredible weekly writing partner, a steadfast cheerleader, and the person who wrote a glowing reference letter that helped me get into VCFA. She’s a deep thinker, a sharp observer of the world, and a devoted animal mom to her beautiful babies.
This Moth Saw Brightness, is a testament to her ability to blend sharp intelligence with deep heart, tackling conspiracies, government experiments, and the complexities of neurodivergence with humor and insight. In this interview, A.A. shares her thoughts on strangeness, the unexpected ways Helene shaped her writing, and the fine line between skepticism and cynicism.
Get your tea, coffee, and chocolate and dive in—you’re in for a fascinating conversation!
Your novel, This Moth Saw Brightness, explores conspiracies and government experiments—what's the wildest conspiracy theory you’ve come across that almost made you believe?
This is a great question, and it’s perfect to start with it because it goes right to the heart of what I was trying to capture with this book: how do you separate conspiracy theories from actual conspiracies?
Especially in a time like now, when it’s so hard to know what to believe. There are lies being pushed as fact, history getting rewritten, headlines phrased by the media to intentionally spin your interpretation away from the truth.
And because so much of what is true, what is happening in front of our very eyes, is reaching levels of wildness that break every logical rule of sense, that means, suddenly, everything is possible. Anything is possible. Even the most broken, illogical, seemingly-unbelievable statements are now just as believable as reality. Because reality is not believable. We are beyond satire.
So, I guess I’d say the “wildest” conspiracy I believe in is not a theory; it’s the corporate conspiracy —corruption— that has managed to thread itself through the American government over the last 40 years with hardly anyone noticing.
You experienced a once-in-a-lifetime storm in Asheville - Helene - how did that storm affect your writing and creativity? Did it slow down your edits on This Moth Saw Brightness? What did you learn about yourself or your characters during that time?
Some of my most intense memories of Helene will be forever linked up with Moth.
When it first started raining, I was on my way to get a haircut, so I could take author photos, when I got an email with the first look of my cover. So that’s what I was thinking about when I got to the River Arts District and got trapped in a maze of flooded roads. I had to drive through a couple feet of water to get to my appointment. And then, of course, I never got the photographs at all.
Then, the next morning, I was trying to send an email to my editor. And the lights were flickering, and the wind was howling, and you could hear tree trunks cracking and falling all around. And the little computer processing wheel was spinning and spinning for over an hour. The email finally went through, and with that little whooshing email sending noise, all power and cell service was gone.
Other than that,
Helene mostly affected creativity in the way
it affected everything:
It made me question what was important.
It made me question my work as a creator, whether what I was saying was enough or ever could be, whether my stories matter when bodies are being pulled out of the water I drove through two days ago.
And I did come to a new view of my character, Jane. Something I share with Jane is her struggle with earnestly, deeply, loving humans while simultaneously doubting that humanity is “good.” She and I, we do this dangerous dance on the line between skepticism and cynicism. But after Helene, I got to see humans in a new way — stripped of communication, routine, work, access to resources, their first reaction was to come together and give. So, I have more hope for the Jane that exists after the novel ends—that the world won’t completely eat her up.
If ‘Wayne, Kermit, and Jane could each choose a conspiracy to focus on, what would it be?
Well, Jane has an interest in the history of human experimentation, of course. The history of cruelty and violence targeting certain groups in the name of “progress.”
D - He’s more focused on family and less interested in complex interworkings of big-picture problems. I guess I could see him getting into, learning more about unethical surveillance, or perhaps corruptions of the judicial system. I could see him being a public defender when he grows up.
And Kermit, that’s easy. Kermit would easily be most interested in the corruption in the House and Senate, the stock ownership they all have in the companies they regulate. Unfortunately, his interest would primarily be based in wanting to take part in the corruption himself.
Your work often toes the line of strangeness—what’s the strangest thing that inspired a part of this novel? What's the strangest thing you do that you will share?
You know, “strangeness” is a funny thing. I use that word now to describe myself and my work, but only after having other people use it first, not always positively. So I’m kind of reclaiming it.
But personally, I don’t think what I write or make is very strange. I certainly don’t think the things I do are strange. It’s simply my world.
I’ll give an example. One of the most frequent types of feedback I’ve gotten on my writing is that my characters are “overly quirky.” “No one in real life talks like that,” people have said. “Regular people aren’t like this. This is like a cartoon of a person.”
Except the people I know are like that. The people I hang out with have highly specific interests or topics they hyperfocus on, extreme likes and dislikes, and strong preferences and opinions about everything.
Now, talking about this is leading me to wonder whether “strangeness” or “being like a cartoon character” stems from having a point of view. From having a point of view and being willing to show it.
As we mentioned you live in Asheville, what about that town is great for writers? Any best places you grab a coffee and write? What's your favorite drink to order?
Everything about Asheville is great for creatives! A million tiny coffee shops, trails, mountains, a community of people genuinely invested in owning and supporting local, small businesses.
Our businesses lost a tourism season
because of Helene:
come visit!
Come look at (without petting) the bears! Pet them with your gaze! Come write here! Spend money!
What’s the biggest misunderstanding people have about neurodivergence that you hope your book helps clear up? Why was it important to explore this in your debut?
Oh, it would be a dream to have any sort of misunderstanding “cleared up.” My goals are not so lofty, though. And it’s not like it was even a topic I particularly wanted to explore; I never made a conscious decision to have neurodivergent characters. I’m simply writing what I know. In fact, it wasn’t until we were into revisions that I realized Jane was autistic.
I was excited to realize it, though, glad to make a contribution to the (currently very small) pool of authentic autistic characters: To add representation that is broader than stereotypical understandings of autism. To have a character that isn’t just ticking the boxes off a diagnostic checklist. That doesn’t shy away from the “autistic” label as if it’s something to be ashamed of—the unspoken are-they-aren’t-they autism that’s like the literary version of masking.
To be clear, too, having authentic representation is not just to clear up misunderstandings for {{waves hand}} the general world. What’s equally important is that autistic people, perhaps undiagnosed or unaware, can see themselves represented in a dimensional, nuanced way. To have a character that helps them feel like they are not alone, a framework and label to research and understand themselves.
To learn we are not a broken version of a human.
That’s very important these days. Perhaps even more now than it was when I was writing the book, when I naively thought we were on the cusp of mainstream understanding. Now, we have extremely influential and visible people using autism as an excuse for toxic behavior, furthering beliefs that this—their cruel, empathy-void personalities—is what autism looks like. With the irony of course being that being autistic would have gotten them killed during the Nazi regime they seem to love so much.
But I digress.
Your book blends humor with deep topics like mental health and identity—how do you strike that balance?
I’m not sure how one actually strikes a balance, ha. But trying to strike that balance was definitely something I spent a lot of time thinking about.
Humor makes things digestible, of course. Especially for audiences who are perhaps hearing information for the first time. Even beyond that, I believe in the power of humor to make something feel more inclusive. There’s something instinctively welcoming about feeling “in” on the joke; it’s a signal that you’re part of the group.
A lot of people I know feel excluded from books. They feel excluded from discussions about abstract or multi-layered concepts. “I’m not smart enough for this,” is something I’ve heard often from some brilliant people, especially people who haven’t fit in well at school. “Oh, I don’t know anything about topics like this.”
My sister, in particular. If a book or conversation has a serious, literary vibe on top of a serious topic, it’s sort of a signal that These Ideas Are Big And Important And Only For People The World Has Deemed Smart. And she totally shuts down.
So when I’m writing, I’m often checking in with an imaginary version of these people—usually my sister—to see at what point in a chapter her jaw will start to go slack, her eyes start to get that donut glaze. Then I know I’ve gone too heavy-handed and need to pull back and put the focus more on plot or banter.
And I feel like she won’t mind me saying this, since we’ve talked about it before, and also because I’m not that different. The difference is that after a period of time passes, I’ll feel irritated about being excluded, and I’ll put on a helmet and brass knuckles and bulldoze my way in. That’s how I ended up taking and loving organic chemistry in college, after barely getting through basic chemistry in high school. That’s how I ended up writing this novel, after so many people told me to maybe write something else.
What’s a fun fact about the writing process of this book that readers might not expect?
So many options here! This book has a long history. I’ll pick two: The early versions of the manuscript were about a military draft. And, the character of Kermit is merged from three characters who no longer exist.
Your book is filled with “not-quite-believable” elements—what’s something in real life that feels just as surreal to you?
Gosh. Honestly? All of real life feels not-quite-believable to me right now. How much more surreal can you get? I mean, come on—an administration that wants to rename Greenland “Red, White and Blue-land”? There’s no way I could have put that in a novel without someone telling me it was too unbelievable.
I mentioned, in your first question, this idea that we have entered a post-satirical era. Where reality has maxed out satire, where satire is now too “on-the-nose.”
On the plus side, if that’s the case, artists will figure out some other way to get messages through. They always do. I’m excited to see what that is.
You’ve been such a huge support to me on my writing journey—who were the key people who helped shape your path to becoming a published author?
Oh, if I were to answer this, we’d be here all day. I’m not being hyperbolic. Because something I’ve come to realize is that it’s impossible to choose anyone as “key.” Of course, there are obvious players like teachers and editors and agents, but you’ll never know who is going to be a person that brings you somewhere, that says something that leads you to someone, that results in you writing what you write.
As a proudly antisocial person, it pains me to admit how essential people have been in getting me where I am today.
Wowza! I am so proud to have this amazing author and writer I call friend, A.A. Vacharat, on Teazur's Blog! Her work is a testament to the power of curiosity, intellect, and imagination—blending humor, depth, and a touch of the unexpected in ways that challenge and delight readers. This Moth Saw Brightness is just the beginning of what promises to be an incredible writing career, and I can’t wait to see what she creates next. (If you're curious, and you should be, she creates more than books! Check out her pens and stickers here.) Whether she’s unraveling conspiracies, exploring neurodivergence, or simply making us laugh at the absurdity of the world, her voice is one we need. Her time is now!
Thank you, A.A., for sharing your insights, time, and brilliant, slightly off-mind with us!
If you would like to follow A.A. Vacharat and support her writing journey, you can find her here:
A.A.Vacharat Author Website
Quillypig Instagram
A.A. Vacharat TikTok
Quillypig Etsy Shop
And as always, if you would like to be cheered on - reach out to me at angazur @ gmail. com or message me on Instagram.
Write~on,
Angie
