Our next Writer at Work, Sophie Calon, unpacks her debut memoir Long Going, her mission to read a book written by a woman from every country in the world, and the importance of community in her writing life.

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

It began when I was five and my dad sat me down to write about something that had shaken us: my brother Danny’s first epileptic seizure in 1999. My dad typed what I said aloud, and we called it ‘Sophie’s Memoirs’. He taught me how writing could help try to make sense of unthinkable things. Two decades later, my dad died of alcoholism aged just fifty-five and I wrote a memoir about our lives – the wild joys, surreal traumas, unrelenting humour, all of it. Long Going was published last year. The whole experience has made me realise just how much writing really means to me. Turns out my dad is still teaching me things.

What kind of writing excites you most?

I’m a big fan of literature in translation, especially novels and memoirs. I can usually bank on getting giddy from anything published by Charco Press and Fitzcarraldo Editions. I also think it’s an incredibly exciting moment for Welsh literature (wrth gwrs). Sorry to be cringe, but genuine kudos to Folding Rock for playing a massive role in championing this!

What are you working on right now? 

A joyful, life-affirming novella rooted in elements of Welsh history and my own life. The book looks at why, or why not, we might risk our own comfort and prospects to draw attention to the crises we face as a society. It’s set in a rural community on the Welsh border (where I live) and explores the impact of protest. Basically: a story of fierce love amid waves of angst.

Where do you write?

Anywhere, everywhere. Within the last fortnight: during a walk in the woods, on a balcony in Athens, at a favourite Cardiff café, in my notes app while my daughter naps, you name it.

When do you write? 

Currently, whenever I’m not tied up doing other things – aka frenzied scribbles here and there!

And… Why do you write?

Writing somehow simultaneously anchors me and transports me in ways I need to stay (as) sane (as possible). I don’t share everything I write, of course – sometimes it’s more of a journalling exercise. What I do share is usually the bits and pieces that I hope will be of interest or use to others! I honestly believe that sharing stories can help break destructive cycles.

Is there a book or author that has influenced you?

Everything I picked up as part of my goal to read writing by women from every country in the world. I did this across two and a half years in my 20s, and it had such a profound impact on me. Books that stood out include Mauritian writer Ananda Devi’s novella Eve Out of Her Ruins (translated by Jeffrey Zuckerman) and Equatorial Guinean writer Trifonia Melibea Obono’s novella La Bastarda (translated by Lawrence Schimel) – two stories of individuals fighting oppression. I also loved Julia Alvarez’s In the Time of the Butterflies, reimagining the lives of the Mirabal sisters in the Dominican Republic, and Carolina De Robertis’ Cantoras – a novel about five women who come together in the midst of the Uruguayan dictatorship. (Hmm, anyone else sensing a theme emerging here?)

And what role does reading play in your creative practice?

If I’m being honest, I read far more than I write. I can’t go a day without reading, whereas I don’t always find the space to write (yes, this is a work-in-progress). Strangely they feel like quite separate spheres to me. I consider reading as a hobby and writing as a vocation, but I suppose it’s inevitable that they feed into each other. I’ve read every night since I was a child, and now I read every night to my own child too. I see the beauty in that. Books are a pivotal part of my life.

Tell us about something you are really proud of.

Editing my book during maternity leave, while grieving my brother Danny’s sudden death. It was a year of extreme intensity – soaring highs and unbelievable challenges (amid some serious sleep deprivation). I’m proud that Long Going continues to resonate with so many people across the UK and beyond, though I’ve been staggered by just how many of us were raised by alcoholic parents. I receive countless messages from readers sharing what the book meant to them.

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

It’s not exactly a piece of advice, but I’ve come to learn just how vital community is. Being a writer has the potential to be bruising and isolating at times, but I bonded with the most amazing bunch of women on a Tŷ Newydd retreat last June. I can’t put into words how supportive this circle has been over the past year: coming along to each other’s events, sharing our writing, holding regular calls. I honestly believe they make me a better writer – and a better person.

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

I’d love a world in which I have more windows to write each week. I always seem to be struggling to make time between parenting, doing my job, being with friends and family, staying active, and all the miscellaneous requirements of rural life. I really hope to spend the coming decades writing more stories that offer people the chance to reflect on complicated situations together. I’m particularly interested in how writing can help wellbeing, both individually and collectively, and shape Wales into a better home for everyone. I am keen for my stories to reach as many people as possible – through translations, radio, theatre, TV, schools, and libraries. I also hope to write and speak more in Cymraeg. Here’s to finding the time!