In Holly’s Writers at Work interview, she shares reflections on her acclaimed debut novel My Own Dear Brother, her dual practice of singing and writing, and the enduring influence of Margaret Atwood.

Tell us about your writing life. When did it start? What does it look like now?

It started as a kid scribbling stories about foxes in my exercise book (I lived a fox-like childhood in the woods, so that makes sense). Writing became a serious passion at A-Level. My generous and lively English teacher encouraged me to apply for the UEA Creative Writing degree. I got an interview, but the interviewer (presumably a renowned writer) emphasised how I must ‘eat, sleep, and breathe writing’ and ‘be the real deal’ to be a worthy member of the ten-strong cohort. I couldn’t handle that: too scary! I turned down the place. I have no regrets (well, maybe a few); my way into writing professionally needed to be a more wending one, with freedom to create on my own terms and less pressure. This meant my imposter syndrome did not flare up so often and stand in my way with arms crossed, like a nay-saying spoilsport demon.

What kind of writing excites you most?

I want writing to absorb me effortlessly into an atmosphere, a mood, an exotic place that speaks to all my senses – I want to be somewhere else and someone else. I love characters who are tender, layered, unexpected, flawed, half hidden from their own view. But with fire in their belly, yearnings, and a memorable life force.

What are you working on right now?

My second novel, which is at third draft stage. It just needs a final push before sending to my agent. I am excited to forge ahead with it this year. It’s another ambitious one, a rich world of marginalised characters. It is partly set in a 1970s hippy commune, partly in an isolated council estate built to house ‘troubled families’. The imagined world of the book is always glowing in my head like a full moon. I can’t wait to share it.

Where do you write?

I write in busy cafes, or on my sofa (after my kids have fallen asleep) with two tabbies on my lap.

When do you write?

Writing is, by necessity, sporadic and opportunistic (the aforementioned kids). But I have some ringfenced writing time every Wednesday and Friday afternoon, when I meet with some other wonderful writers online – we open a Zoom call and write alongside one another, mics muted, cameras off if we want. We state our intentions at the beginning, check in on progress halfway through, then debrief at the end. For me, this is a winning formula. Interaction, support, accountability, and commitment. I hope to grow my writing practise from this, now my children are bigger and I’m less sleep deprived 😉

And… Why do you write?

Because I was born to. Words, words, words have poured out of me since about 9 months old. I love language, I acquire it and utilise it with joy and ease, I’m highly expressive and creative. Language and story are my natural element, and story, for me, is how I make sense of everything. I think it’s how a lot of us understand life. I want to contribute and connect to the lives of others and to this world. So, I write.

Is there a book or author that has influenced you?

Margaret Atwood is that stand-out author for me. Prophet-like, wryly humorous, humane, courageous, ambitious, and unapologetic. She’s a role model in so many ways (swoon). Particularly her novel Alias Grace. Can a novel achieve more? It offers huge depth, contains a skewering truth, layers of meaning, a fascinating insight into the 1840s, and themes that are still relevant today. The main character, Grace: she lives!

And what role does reading play in your creative practice?

Reading is a source of nourishment and inspiration for my own writing. It also serves as a cache of ideas to steal from. Ha, let’s relax about nicking from other artists, it is the nature of the beast and can never really be theft. The piece of work becomes your own as you delve into it, relate to it, imprint yourself into every word. What does it matter if your thoughts and visions are half-magpied, or derivative homages, or a form of worship at the feet of the writers who have gone before?

Tell us about something you are really proud of.

I’m really proud of my first novel, My Own Dear Brother (Bloomsbury, 2016). It was a monumental, impassioned quest into another time, another country, and a very sensitive period of history, all linked to my Austrian family. I was in my mid-twenties when I moved to Austria to do research for the book. I conducted interviews with elderly Austrians who could remember WW2 (some had been perpetrators, some resisters). I often look back and shudder at my daring: the questions I asked of them in their own living rooms. But they told me everything; in fact, they could hardly stop talking. I was offering a non-judgmental curiosity they seemed to appreciate. I am definitely proud of that.

What’s the best advice you’ve been given as a writer developing your practice?

My PhD supervisor, the poet Philip Gross, gave me this advice (in the form of a quote) just as I was getting published for the first time:

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same. . .

From Rudyard Kipling’s incredible poem ‘If’. Sage advice indeed. It was meant to protect me.

There are so many ways to have a creative career. What would life as a ‘working’ writer look like for you?

I would love to be writing half of each day (fiction, fiction, fiction!) and teaching for the rest – short courses, retreats, workshops. Performing, too, is something I love – to read stories to a gathering is electrifying, so I’d do that as often as possible. Maybe I’d start a side hustle as an audiobook voice actor. I’d still be making music with my band (@honddu__); the two things dovetail for me and revolve around voice. Singing and lyric-writing = storytelling. I used to think I had to choose between music and writing, but I can’t, so I won’t.

Also, I have devised a Character Mask workshop concept (based on my PhD topic) for teaching about fictional character writing, one of which I’ll be running in Hay in June, for the Hay Writers Circle (@thehaywriterscircle). I’m keen to run more 🙂