Cosmogony isn’t really about anything. Stories generally ramble stream-of-consciousness style towards some sort of ending. Will it be fantastic? Banal? Aggressively mundane? An over-long mental justification of why it’s funny to imagine the Care Bears finding and killing God? You won’t know until you get there, because each story feels like revisiting a maze you’ve only ever seen in dreams, intimately familiar yet…. REALLY not. Lucy Ives has mastered the slice-of-life story and the intricacies of the everyday. Lucy Ives has also mastered sticking a knife in the open wound of expectation and twisting. Read it at your own risk, but read it.
There are analogies between being female and being left-handed, I think, or being an animal.
A woman answers a Craigslist ad (to write erotic diaries for money). A woman walks onto a tennis court (from her home at the bottom of the ocean). A woman goes to the supermarket and meets a friend’s husband (who happens to be an immortal demon). A woman goes for a run (and accidentally time travels).
Cosmogony takes accounts of so-called normal life and mines them for inconsistencies, deceptions, and delights. Incorporating a virtuosic range of styles and genres (Wikipedia entry, phone call, physics equation, encounters with the supernatural), these stories reveal how the narratives we tell ourselves and believe are inevitably constructed, offering a glimpse of the structures that underlie and apparently determine human existence.