Text Size

FAQ

Are you Irish?
I would say I'm an Irishwoman and an Irish writer, having spent those formative first twenty years of life in Dublin. But then I lived in Cambridge (England) for eight years.  And these days I'm based in London, Ontario, in Canada - a city of 350,000 people, two hours' drive west of Toronto.  I visit Ireland and Britain every few months. I hold joint Irish and Canadian citizenship and am happy to be known as a Canadian writer too.

Did you always want to be a writer?
No, first I wanted to be a ballerina, but at about eight years old I realised I was going to be too tall, so I settled for literature.  This way I get to eat more cake.

How did you become a full-time writer?
In a lucky but fairly orthodox way.  I wrote poetry constantly from early childhood.  I wrote my first novel (over and over) from the age of 19.  At 21, I found a literary agent, Caroline Davidson, who believed I had a future (that was the real stroke of luck); when I was 23, she got me a two-novel deal with Penguin, which was probably the most gleeful day of my life.  Nothing is certain, and especially in a writer’s career, but so far my luck has held.

What was your PhD on?
Male-female friendship in the works and lives of some mid-eighteenth-century English novelists (Samuel Richardson, Sarah Fielding, Charlotte Lennox, Henry Fielding).  I never published it, and I know of only four people who have read it (including my partner, mother and supervisor) but it taught me to feel at home in libraries, and it began my enduring obsession with the eighteenth century.

What writers have influenced you?
Sorry, I've no idea. Sometimes I like to think I'm writing in the tradition of Jane Austen, for whose novel Emma I was named, but I might be kidding myself.

Where do you fit into the Irish literary tradition?
This question’s another hard one.  When I was in my teens I was reading (to pluck out a few random names) Frank O’Connor and Edna O’Brien, but also Tolstoy and Raymond Carver, Margaret Atwood and Barbara Vine.  It didn't occur to me to classify books by the nationality of their authors; it felt as if literature in English was a big lake that I could dive into from any point on the shore. But looking back on it, I can see I'm a rather typical Irish author in that most of my characters are gabby.  (Translation for the non-Irish: they talk too much.)

What writers do you like best?
I read a mixture of fiction, drama and non-fiction (with the very occasional book of poetry) from the last few centuries, but living novelists take up most of my time.  My favourites among them cover a wide range of genres: historical and contemporary fiction, fantasy, satire, children’s literature... Some American writers I love are Alison Bechdel, Rebecca Brown, Michael Cunningham, Dave Eggers, Elizabeth George, Allan Gurganus, Barbara Kingsolver, Armistead Maupin, E. Annie Proulx, Ann Patchett, Anita Shreve, Jane Smiley, Anne Tyler and David Foster Wallace (R.I.P.).  Favourite Canadians include Helen Humphreys, Annemarie Macdonald, Alice Munro and the late great Carol Shields. My favourite Irish writer is probably Roddy Doyle. In Britain my top names are Julian Barnes, Michael Frayn, Leon Garfield, Alan Garner, Philippa Gregory, Hilary Mantel, Diana Norman, Terry Pratchett, Philip Pullman, Adam Thorpe, Barry Unsworth, Barbara Vine, and Sarah Waters. You’ll notice from this list that most of my reading is shockingly limited to English-language literature of the British Isles and North America.  Just a few books that have stunned me in recent years: Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveller’s Wife; Ronald Wright, A Scientific Romance; Lionel Shriver, We Need to Talk About Kevin; Neal Stephenson, Cryptonomicon and The Baroque Cycle.

Who do you write for?
Myself, first, and then for anybody in the world who happens to buy or borrow a book of mine. I've been published by very mainstream presses so it's hard to know who my core audience might be.

Why did you leave Ireland in 1990?  Was it because of its conservatism / homophobia / the Catholic Church?
No, what lured me to England was funding: full support (from the British Academy and the University of Cambridge) for the first three years of a PhD, which in the event turned into an eight-year stay. But I did feel much freer in England. I find my new home, Canada, a more diverse and just society than any other I’ve known, so I’m glad to have washed up here.

Why did you move to Canada in 1998?
I once answered this question at a reading in Ontario by saying 'Love', but the questioner then asked confidently, 'Love of Canada?' - so I had to spell it out and say 'No, love of a Canadian!'  After several years of commuting between England, Ireland and Canada, I finally settled in the latter in 1998. I live in an old yellow-brick house in London, Ontario with Chris Roulston and our son Finn (born November 2003) and daughter Una (born June 2007).

How do you feel about the label 'lesbian writer'?  Wouldn’t you rather be known just as a ‘writer’?
I get asked this question all the time, and I really appreciate the fact that so many readers who like my work want to defend me from nasty labels! But - on principle - I'm not going to object to 'lesbian writer' if I don't object to 'Irish writer' or 'woman writer', since these are all equally descriptive of me and where I’m from.  And the labels commit me to nothing, of course; my books aren’t and don’t have to be all about Ireland, or women, or lesbians.  (And since publishing Room, I’m mostly known as the locked-up-children writer instead…)

Do you feel ‘ghettoized’ by the ‘gay literature’ sections in bookstores?
The metaphor isn’t accurate, because ghettos were walled, guarded areas, and I don’t feel locked into anything.  Sections are there to help readers find books they might want to buy, nothing more sinister than that.  I like to see my books turn up in several different sections, actually. 

How would you define ‘lesbian fiction’?
Some people would describe it as fiction (about anything) by out lesbian authors.  (That’s how come my novel Slammerkin managed to win the 2002 Ferro-Grumley Award for Lesbian Fiction, much to my surprise.)  I tend to define it thematically, as fiction about lesbians, by anyone.  An interesting new development is that lesbian themes are beginning to show up in the most mainstream of novels, such as Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections.

Why is there so little really good lesbian fiction out there?
There’s plenty, in my opinion, but you may not have found it yet because it gets so little attention from critics and booksellers, is often published by small presses with small budgets, and tends to go out of print fast.  I’d recommend you try the following baker’s dozen of some of my favourite titles from the last twenty years. 
From America: Dorothy Allison, Trash; Carol Anshaw, Aquamarine; Lucy Ann Bledsoe, Sweat; Rebecca Brown, The Terrible Girls; Jewelle Gomez, The Gilda Stories; Ellis Avery, The Teahouse Fire.  From Canada: Helen Humphreys, Afterimage. From Ireland: Mary Dorcey, A Noise from the Woodshed. From Britain: Ellen Galford, The Fires of Bride; Ali Smith, Free Love; Barbara Vine, The House of Stairs; Sarah Waters, Affinity; Jeanette Winterson, The Passion.

How political are you?
All writing is political, but only ‘minority’ writers get asked this question, funnily enough.

What draws you to work in such different genres?
Fiction is my favourite, and the one I live off. But theatre has provided many of the most exciting moments in my career, because working with a company is so stimulating and sociable, and I get to watch my work directly affecting an audience.  In the case of radio drama, I can’t see them, but I can reach a much wider pool of listeners, and it’s a wonderfully cheap and flexible form compared with tv or film; it’s no problem to set a scene at the Battle of Hastings, or on the moon!  As for literary history and biography, it’s slow, painstaking work, but it’s deeply satisfying to feel that you’re writing something solid and accurate, especially if you’re bringing obscure people or themes to life.

Do you feel that inspiration comes directly from the Muse down your arm onto the page?
Would that it did.  No, it’s plain ordinary work, I’m afraid.  I was on a panel once with a writer who claimed that ‘we do our best writing unconsciously, in our sleep’, and I could just imagine how a dynamo like Charles Dickens would have howled with laughter at that one.

Do your characters take over and seem to write the book themselves?
No, I make them do what I want.  (Except that occasionally they refuse!)

Do you enjoy writing?
Vastly.  And the research.  And going out in public in clean clothes to give readings or interviews too. It's the admin (letter-answering, printing, form-filling, phone calls, taxes) I find boring.

Where do you get your ideas?
Impossible to tell.  It's like asking someone where they picked up a cold.

Can you describe your writing environment?
Our front room. After holding out against desks for two decades, I have finally been driven (by the kids jumping all over the sofa I used to work on) to get a large L-shaped desk.  Which I keep so piled with miscellanea (including wet wipes, orange peels, small socks, papers to be filed some year when I’ve nothing more interesting to do) that I am left with very little space to actually work. This doesn’t matter because I am oblivious to everything beyond the screen of my laptop: I’m really not here, I’m away with the fairies.

What advice would you give someone who wants to be a writer?
Write a lot, write with passion. Don’t give up the day job till you have reason to believe you can live off your writing; plenty of great books have been written at weekends.  Try giving up TV, or getting up earlier; if you want it enough you’ll find the time to write.

What advice would you give a beginner who wants to get published?
jIf you write poems or stories, submit them to magazines.  If you write a novel, rewrite it several times, and then, only when you think it's great, try to find an agent who'll sell it to a publisher.  You'll find agents' addresses in publications like the Writer’s Handbook, Writer’s Market, or Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook; ring them up and ask if they’ll look at your work. Sending a manuscript straight to a publisher almost never works these days.

What do you look like?
A fairly typical henna-haired blue-eyed Irishwoman, except taller than most, usually wearing bright colours to make up for the pale face.

Where do your siblings and parents live?
Ireland, England, France, and the USA.

Have you ever had a 'real job'?
No, and I hope I never will.

What are your goals for the future?
Write more, write better.

What do you do when you're not writing?
I look after our kids, read, watch films, read, sit around talking to my lover and friends, and read a bit more. We go to Ireland, England and France a lot too.

If you had a time machine, where would you go?
Late eighteenth-century London, England. I'd be a rich spinster of scandalous habits, my hats would be enormous, chocolate drops would have been recently invented, and there'd be revolutions to provide a little excitement.

© Punch Photographic 2013