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I need to update this with actual writing!

Serotonin (fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, literary translation), artist statement

 

My honors thesis with the Stanford Arts Institute is a fragmentary novel following the coming-of-age stories of three sisters growing up in a repressive environment. Serotonin lies at the intersection of neuroscience and literature, two disciplines that push the boundaries of our understanding of the human condition. Writing was my first love, helping me understand why people behave the way they do when I consistently got into fights as a child. I have worked in the labs of Dr. Karl Deisseroth and Dr. Carolyn Bertozzi across my undergraduate years, where I studied the molecules and neural circuits underlying behavior. I wrote the first page of this project one late night in April 2023, watching serotonergic neurons glow cherry red through a confocal microscope, like a burst of fireworks the night before my third birthday, also my first memory. I accidentally saved the Google document with the name of the microscope image (CW14_serotonin_oScarlet.docx), and that night, I began to realize that my two interests were synergistic with one another. The same fundamental questions brought me both fields: what makes us human? What drives human connection? How do we understand ourselves and one another? The characters in my novel grapple with those questions as they navigate a society where many of the touchstones of adolescence are taboo. As the project grew, I shortened the title of the file to just Serotonin. 

 

Through a fragmentary nature – which is defined as a non-chronological narrative with self-enclosed vignettes across genres – I hope to replicate how memory and the mind actually work: how we move from past to present, from short-term to long-term, across places, and how we draw parallels and recognize patterns across our lifetimes. This interest in form was largely inspired by my first-hand experience studying the biological mechanisms of memory and learning. In the lab, I studied the question: What causes memories to form and be retrieved in the brain? One component I researched was sensory stimuli. Visuals, sounds, people, or experiences can often prompt us to form associations, pulling memories from long-term storage to our immediate consciousness. In addition to that, part of my scientific mentorship involved a weekly journal club, where I presented papers to my amazing mentor on nearly every aspect of memory imaginable over almost two years. This experience didn’t just shape my scientific taste; it also sharpened my literary instincts. I began to notice when a character recalled something out of thin air or when a flashback felt misplaced. Over time, I noticed a disconnect between actual cognitive processes and the portrayal of memory in most literature, where recollection often feels linear, arbitrary, or isolated in a vacuum. I want to bridge that gap between science and literature, using experimental form to mirror psychological experiences. The fragmentary structure of my novel is not only a stylistic exercise, but also a way to invite readers into the thoughts and decision-making processes of my characters, whose realities differ greatly from Western or American teenagers.

In writing young characters, I’ve been researching children’s media, such as picture books, cartoons, and video games, and their role as early sources of social commentary. Climate change, racial inequality, and prejudice are made tangible through anthropomorphism and symbolism. Similarly, when I write about stigma in society, I want readers not to feel daunted. I have interspersed anatomical models, histological slices, and homunculi from early neurological studies between chapters to capture the curiosity and wonder that should come with the unknown. Illustrations of nerve endings in the lips and mouth precede teenage characters as they walk through hallways, come to terms with their desires, and fall in love for the first time. Dissections of flora accompany a child arranging bouquets for a grandparent’s funeral. Birdsong traces and mimesis patterns parallel two sisters making eye contact through their shared bathroom mirror. These diagrams mimic the tension of characters’ personal discoveries, providing visual representations of desire and bodily sensations alongside the primary narrative. Even though this book is not plot driven, and my characters often do nothing (as children do), I have included almost 200 pages of scientific diagrams, childhood vignettes, personal essays, case studies, multiple-choice questionnaires, lists, brief film scenes, etc. as fragments in response to mundane scenes or interactions, to show the extent to which people are willing to reach one another and trace each other’s steps.

 

While we can explain the brain in a scientific light, there remains no better incision into the human consciousness than through language. Like all literature, my honors thesis draws from the human experience. But what is important to me is to reach for characters at the margins of society, to shine light on experiences that go unwitnessed, and tell stories that readers might not otherwise encounter in everyday life.

© 2025 by Celestine Wenardy. All rights reserved.

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