At the start of Animals, your main character Laura
is caught between conflicting desires - she wants to spend her free time
writing, but is tempted by drunken nights out with her flatmate Tyler, she
likes the idea of a settled future with her fiancee Jim, but is scared of
losing her independence - what initially drew you to the character?
I wanted to write about a
woman in her early thirties who was feeling pressure from several angles –
including herself – to do or be a certain thing. I’ve always been a healthily
morbid person but it’s that sense of running out of time that I only started to
really feel in my thirties. I think it’s about about expectation, and
fulfillment. Where do these come from? How are they split between social
conditioning, the individuals we make deals with at various points in our life,
and our own desires (if these even exist)? I wanted Laura to try and
investigate why she wanted the things she wanted, and what she was afraid might
happen otherwise; what would she be left with.
It seems as though you had a lot of fun writing
Tyler and Laura's debauched nights out, and their drunken bon mots - did you
particularly enjoy creating those sections of the novel?
My favourite thing to
write is dialogue – especially arch, highly stylised exchanges between two
people. I think that’s probably my favourite thing to read as well. The
debauched sections were fun to write sometimes but the girls are so full-on
that I was often cringing through the mirth. In fact, Cringing Through the
Mirth might have to be my autobiography title. Either that or Never
Quite Mortified Enough.
Much of Animals takes place in locations which will
be very familiar to anyone who lives in Manchester - did you feel like you
wanted readers to be able to tour the city with Laura?
Yes, I did want it to be
a scamper around the city. There are so many weird and wonderful places you can
end up on a night out in Manchester, and I did want to document those to a
certain extent. I didn’t realise it while I was writing Animals – maybe
I subconsciously knew – but the time has come for me to leave Manchester for a
while after living here my whole life. So this book is sort of a little
sign-off to the city, too. A fond goodbye smacker on the lips.
There's a tendancy to celebrate literary drinkers,
like Scott Fitzgerald or Dorothy Parker, thinking that their imagination was
somehow sparked by intoxication, but Laura talks about her own heavy drinking
as a way of blotting out the pressure she feels to write. Do you think there's
a misunderstanding about the relationship between creativity and alcohol?
I do think it’s a fairly
dangerous Romantic myth to say intoxicants make you a better or
somehow more interesting writer, akin to the one linking genius with
madness. Speaking for myself, and every writer I’ve asked, you can’t write well
drunk. You might think you’re writing well while you’re drunk, but then
you’re going to read it back sober and want to gnaw your own hands off. I’m in
kind of revolted awe when I read Hunter S Thompson’s daily diet – have you seen
that? Getting up at 3pm, then it’s all coke and acid and Chival and
cheeseburgers until the punchline, at midnight: ‘Hunter ready to write’. It
can’t be true. But if anyone was going to make that work, it’d be him. And I
suppose it’s about what alcohol does for you personally – for me, it’s far more
about shutting down parts of my brain rather than sparking them up. I drink to
calm down not giddy up. I’m giddy enough. I smoke when I’m writing but that’s
about it. As soon as I have a glass of wine it’s game over, so I have to be
strict about when I start. It’s such a nice idea though, isn’t it? To sit with
a glass of something, leisurely tapping out fine prose. Such a nice idea.
No, I think it’s the
human condition. The arena of fear changes shape – in Animals, for
example, disgracing yourself on the internet is a thing – but public disgrace
and judgment has been around as long as there’s been a public. What I do think
is relatively new (and I say ‘relatively’ tentatively because there will always
be historical exceptions) is women being able to publicly judge their own lives
on their own merits, or at least see how they can’t do that and get angry about
it.
Where did the idea for Laura's novel-in-progress
Bacon (the story of a priest who falls in love with a talking pig) come from?
Haha – oh dear. That’s me
taking the piss out of myself, I’m afraid. And my first novel. And magic
realism. Which I love.
What's your writing routine like? Do you have any
favourite places, or music to write to?
I try and do it every day
because it helps me stay involved in the story, and there’s a lot to be said
for sitting yourself down and just forcing yourself to write whether you feel
like it or not. I don’t think I’ve ever suffered from proper writer’s block, or
rather I have something like it every time I sit down, but I don’t want to do
anything else (and can’t do much else) so I’m just being a dick if I don’t get
on with it. Redrafting is my saviour. I redrafted the first two books many
times. The main thing is getting to the end of something so you can see some
sort of shape. I need deadlines desperately, even if I set them myself. I write
at home mostly, but I also like writing in cafes, libraries, hotels, and on
trains. I take myself away for two weeks every October on my own in a campervan
– it’s like a desk on wheels; I can’t recommend it highly enough. Rent one of
the transit-van ones, not one of those daft trendy VW ones you can’t stand up
in. And campsites are crazily strange places, especially out of season.
Campsite bars are even stranger.
Which modern authors do you enjoy reading?
Recently I really enjoyed
Clay by Melissa Harrison. It’s about the unexpected wildlife you find in
urban areas. It’s a very lyrical book with a deep, muscular violence running
through it. I’m a naturalist who loves cities so was really moved by how much
the characters glean from their discoveries.
What are you working on next?
Funnily enough, a novel
set in a campervan. It’s another dark comedy – this time about teenage
obsession, completely ruining your life in 48 hours on MDMA, and stalking
someone who wronged you 20 years ago. No really, it’s a comedy.


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