I first encountered Meg Pillow’s fiction at FUSE (Forum for Undergraduate Student Editors) while I was an undergrad at SUNY Geneseo. One of her short stories, We All Know About Margo, was included in a packet for a lecture my peers were giving. Honestly, I don’t remember what the lecture was even about, but I do remember sitting on a cold metal folding chair, immersed in We All Know About Margo.
We All Know About Margo is the kind of story you feel in your gut—punchy, unapologetic, and heartbreaking. It tackles difficult subject matter that really can’t be explained; it needs to be read to be fully appreciated. A few years after reading it, I looked up Meg Pillow and discovered that Margo’s story didn’t end there. In fact, Pillow wrote two more stories about Margo’s life as an adult. I thought, How original.
Revisiting Margo: The Power of a Character Who Won’t Let Go
Often, short fiction writers create characters only to set them aside after one story. But occasionally, a character transcends a single plot, expanding beyond the writer’s expectations. Margo’s story begins with an examination of violence in all-male settings, but then Pillow subverts her own narrative. She allows Margo to live beyond her trauma, challenging readers to confront the messy, complex lives of survivors.
In Margo. Turn Left., Margo is contemplating leaving an abusive relationship. In Margo on the Hunt, she finally breaks free from the mental cage she’s been trapped in. Pillow’s message is clear: Here is a survivor who chose to live.
How “Margo. Turn Left.” Inspired The Blue Hour
It was Margo. Turn Left. that inspired my short story, The Blue Hour. While teaching a writing class, I introduced an exercise on “writing impressions”—a technique where writers capture a piece’s mood, tone, and style without directly replicating its content. I felt myself gravitating to Margo. Turn Left., wanting to dissect the tension and unease Pillow creates.
My result was a kind of tribute to Pillow’s work, blending her touch of witchcraft with reality—a stylistic choice I don’t usually make. I also revisited a character from one of my previous stories, a choice that showed me characters don’t have to be single-use. In fact, they can mirror real life, resurfacing in unexpected moments with new layers and dimensions.
Why This Matters: Reimagining Characters and Ourselves
Meg Pillow’s Margo is a testament to how well-crafted characters can live beyond their pages, encouraging us to see beyond their trauma. Revisiting Margo has taught me that stories are not just fixed plots; they are the beginnings of lives that continue to grow, whether in the minds of readers or, sometimes, in the hands of the writer.
This experience has changed how I see my own characters, pushing me to consider how their stories—and my relationship with them—might continue to evolve. Pillow’s work inspires me to explore my characters’ lives with new compassion, resilience, and the courage to grow.