In my story, I gave the garbage disposal a voice because it can often feel like we’re being taken from more than we are willing to give up. At first it feels harmless, but as we are whittled down more and more, we realize that something has to change.
What was your main inspiration to write “My Disposal”? What sparked the initial idea?
Honestly, I was doing the dishes one day and heard the garbage disposal gurgling. I thought, “hmm, that kind of sounded like words,” and the story just kind of poured out of me from there. I wrote the entire thing by hand in a notepad before transferring it onto my computer.
To me, this story is so visceral in its approach to exploring how women often feel whittled down, piece by piece, by the demand of someone or something else—a partner, societal expectations, impossible beauty standards, and so forth. I think the symbolism of the garbage disposal is so apt. Can you speak a little about that, if it resonates with you?
I chose a garbage disposal specifically because it takes. It’s designed to take from us, and in the real world, it only takes what we give it. In my story, I gave the garbage disposal a voice because it can often feel like we’re being taken from more than we are willing to give up. At first it feels harmless, but as we are whittled down more and more, we realize that something has to change.
Mothers, in particular, are taken from every day. The very nature of providing for a family means sacrificing pieces of yourself. Sometimes, it takes a loved one’s suffering to make us realize that we can’t keep giving until we’re gone.
For me, when the disposal starts speaking to the daughter, it conjured up the phenomenon of mothers (usually unintentionally) passing down their own insecurities and hangups around food and diet culture to their daughters. If you feel comfortable addressing this topic—was this something you considered while writing this piece?
In general, I think generational trauma is something that we pass down without realizing it until it stares us in the face. I also believe it’s much easier to see the effects of trauma in someone else rather than yourself. Whether it’s hangups about food, diet culture, or something else, parents often leave a mark on their children without seeing it as it happens. As parent and child age, they can sometimes bridge that gap to confront their trauma together.
While writing this story, I definitely wanted to draw parallels between mother and daughter. The main character only realizes the impact the disposal is having once it starts doing the same thing to her child. Fortunately for her, it wasn’t too late to make a change.
What do you hope readers take away from this piece?
A newfound appreciation for their parents and their everyday appliances.
A couple more questions just for fun! Do you have any particular writing rituals?
Not a ritual per se, but I have notebooks scattered throughout the house so I can quickly jot an idea down if I’m busy. The trick is finding the right notebook when I want to look back on something I wrote.
Lastly . . . what scares you?
Spiders. I’m fine with all other bugs but I just can’t handle those little dudes. Love y’all from afar.
Hannah Madden (she/her) is a Portland-based embroidery artist and writer. When not creating thread-based art, she can be found curled up with a good book or crafting eerie stories of her own. Living in a century home with her husband and her dog, she draws inspiration from the spooky atmosphere of the Pacific Northwest. Hannah is always on the lookout for new ways to blend art, writing, and her fascination with the macabre.
