Oh Rats!
How and why to write about gross things
Recently I was talking to my friend M. about rodents—the first time we’d ever broached that topic. She was battling mice burrowing under her front deck, and I had just had a run-in with a rat that had been wreaking havoc in the insulation behind a broom closet before dying in the wall. Ew. The smell! M. said, “OMG, have you read the rat essay in The Sun this month?” I hadn’t, but I did right away. So in this post we’re going to take a close look at Lenore Myka’s essay, “Home Invasions” (May 2026) and see how writing about something gross1 can lead meaning and uncover surprising emotional depth.
Welcome to Everything Essay! where every two to three weeks I feature an essay and talk about the art and craft of the writing. Occasionally, I write about the books I’m reading and what I learn about writing from those. And sometimes the conversation veers into aging too. It’s an essay week.
Go ahead and read “Home Invasions” now.2 It’s longer than the essays we typically read, about 5,000 words, which will take you about 20 minutes, but it’s a good read (albeit gross at times) and the writing is stellar. Then we’ll look at the craft at work, and explore when and why the expansive essay format, over 4K, is the right choice for an essay.
What’s it About? (the stories on the surface)
Myka’s essay is about her discovery and management of an infestation of rats in her newly purchased home and the recent, partial hearing loss in her right ear. Two seemingly unrelated stories.
The Craft at Work
The Opening. In the first paragraph, Myka introduces the idea of her home being invaded: At four in the morning I heard a scratching that sounded like someone was trying to break into our new home. By withholding the facts, she lets the tension build. And with description, she anthropomorphizes the house using active verbs—it yawns, moans, sighs, grunts, and shudders—and brings the house to life, which makes the invasion feel even more real. Myka also introduces her recent hearing loss, another important aspect of the narrative. It’s a great set up in one paragraph that doesn’t give the story away. We get about ten paragraphs into the essay, before the narrator suspects that rats are her intruder.
The Structure. This is a braided essay with two main strands: the rat infestation and Myka’s hearing loss. The battle with the rats in the house unfolds chronologically from discovery to good riddance. The story of Myka’s hearing loss gets interspersed and linked to the rats. For example, Myka notes that the way her partner and visitors to the house had ignored the sound of the rats mirrored the way that she had ignored the silence in her ear. I’d come to believe it was human nature to look away, to plead ignorance, she said. And again, when Rat Guy #1 said it was unlikely that a rat caught in trap had suffered, Myka recalled that her ENT had said it was unlikely that she’d lose her hearing in both ears. There was no way for either of these men know anything with certainty, she said. And just as her doctors have no solutions for her hearing loss, the Rat Guys continue to fail to solve her rat problem. This is how she establishes parallels between two very different stories
This essay is also mosaic in its construction. Myka interweaves several types of material including, folklore, symbolism, and research, as she explores rats through different lenses, creates other subthreads, and widens the frame.
One of the ways Myka widens the essay is through the Chinese Zodiac, using it as a way to explore both rats and her identity. Myka, born in the Year of the Rat, identifies as someone unable to commit to things, in this case, her ambivalence to moving to Florida and homeownership. And the folklore, the legend of the Jade Emperor in which rats can’t swim (although they are good swimmers) ties back to where the rats came from—the pond near her house.
One of my favorite subthreads is the Rat Guys #1 - #5, plus Angelo, who carry the rat story forward. Each Rat Guy has distinctive, memorable details: one brings his bored, octogenarian mother; one carries fluorescent bait that makes rat urine glow; one wears gold cuff links and flirts; another, nicknamed “the Professor,” ultimately refers her to Angelo, the rat whisperer. Great characterization, plus effective humor.
Myka has done her rat research and incorporates information about their gestation (incredibly prolific); the language surrounding rats (dirty rats, rat finks, ratting someone out); a the famous rat folktale—The Pied Piper; a false tale about rats—they aren’t blind; and rat skills, like their ability to chew through almost anything.
The research doesn’t feel superfluous. These facts enlarge the essay’s meditation on fear, survival, adaptation, and what humans project on animals.
The Close. Then comes the Ouroboros scene toward the end of the essay when Myka is talking with Angelo. (The Ouroboros is an ancient symbol depicting a dragon or serpent eating its own tail.) And this is where the essay gets really gross. After Angelo plugs up the last entrance hole and the rats can longer get into the house, the remaining rats are left to… I found it hard to read—I wanted cover my eyes, but I think the essay needs this scene. It’s honestly what happened, and it completes both the physical and emotional arc of the narrative.
Were you able to read that section straight through? Did you find yourself wanting to look away like I did? There’s more great craft at work in this essay, but I’ll stop there—feel free to share what you find as a comment.
The Aboutness. (the essay on a deeper level)
Now let’s get to what this essay is about on a deeper level. What starts out as a problem with rodents in the attic digs down into so much more.
It becomes an essay about Myka’s struggles with being a homeowner and commitment. About her reluctance to accept her hearing loss, her grief over the sounds she has already lost. About her newfound connection with nature and animals in Florida, and her guilt over killing rats and squirrels as she tries to protect her home. About how she has realized that people don’t like to tell the truth and that sometimes we have to admit defeat. And her fears, uncertainty and doubt, her desire to flee, and her determination not give in to it.
Your thoughts?
The Expansive Essay—when and why
When asked how long an essay should be, one of my mentors in graduate school said write until you’ve said everything you need to say. I think that advice works for a first draft, but you may find later that there are things better left off the page to provide room for the reader to step in. What’s interesting about the expansive essay (> 4k words) is that you often work to add information, ideas, and reflections that in the first draft you might not have known were “needed” but that ultimately enhance the meaning—the essay’s aboutness. Myka demonstrates why some essays need more space, room for history, research, observation, anecdote, dialogue and detail to make connections and deepen the meaning as she does as she explores what it means to live with fear and uncertainty and grief and doubt.
An expansive essay earns its length through adding meaning.
1I feel it’s kind of unfair of me to qualify rats as gross. Personally, I’m not a fan and they fall swiftly in the gross category. But many people keep rats as pets, and they are considered highly social, affectionate, and playful. Maybe it’s a function of whether they’re wild or domesticated (either way gross for me). I’m sure there are many reasons why certain animals (opossum, snakes) and insects (spiders, cockroaches) get the gross label, but that’s for another essay, but if you have thoughts, please share.
2Most of The Sun’s content is paywalled, but they do allow you to read two free articles per month without a subscription, so the link should work for you.
I love the way you’ve structured this analysis; what a treat for essay writers! I love this!
Thanks for this deep dive, Andrea! I admired the writing in this piece and the way the internal emotional story was advanced and explored through the parallels in the rat narrative and lore.