The door is shut against the night but outside wind whips around the old cottage and whistles through its cracks and crevices. Dog lays on his belly, ears alert to the noises beneath the wind, eyes twinkling in the glow of the small fire in the hearth. Jake has retreated upstairs, more comfortable with her thoughts than strange company, and I am here with her creator, the talented, award-winning writer, Evie Wyld. Join us as we chat about her latest novel All the Birds, Singing.

RH: Evie Wyld, welcome to Writers’ Block. I hope you feel at home here in Jake’s cottage. It took some convincing. For a while it looked like we’d be relegated to the barn and I didn’t fancy that in this weather. I can’t offer you much hospitality. As you know Jake isn’t much on shopping or keeping a full pantry though I can probably rustle up a decent coffee. Interested?

EW: Honestly, I don’t think I’d want to touch any of Jake’s stuff. She’d know and she wouldn’t like it. Thanks though.

RH: * Wishes she hadn’t touched Jake’s stuff either* Congratulations on your brilliant book, All the Birds, Singing, which has just won the 2014 Miles Franklin Literary Award! I’m really thrilled for you. It’s also been shortlisted for the 2013 the Costa Book Award for Novel and longlisted for the 2014 Stella Award and the 2014 Women’s Prize for Fiction. Your first novel, After the Fire, A Still Small Voice, won the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize and a Betty Trask Award. For those of us gazing wistfully from the sidelines, share with us how it feels to have your work so applauded and whether (or how) this success impacts your subsequent work.

EW: Of course it’s incredible – but it’s so incredible that it doesn’t really affect how I feel all that much – it’s far too unreal. People often talk about the added pressure that gets piled on to authors who get on prize lists but honestly there’s nothing that could speed things up for me or make me write in a different way. I just write what I can write, and no expectation from readers is going to be more daunting than the monkey of self-doubt that sits on a writer’s shoulder.

RH: Yeah, that monkey gets around! All the Birds, Singing is the story of Jake Whyte who is trying to hide from her past. When we first meet her she is a recluse, farming a small flock of sheep on a remote island. She is reserved and brittle, even to her constant companion, Dog. All we know of her is that she lives in fear. For me, the need to know why she was so afraid made this a page turner, and the way you revealed her past played with my perceptions of her. This is because her past emerges in reverse. How did you determine this was the best way to communicate her history? Did you ever doubt this approach or feel pressured (either from yourself or others) to use a more conventional form? If so, how did you allay these doubts or pressures?

EW: I was never pressured by anyone to write it differently – I think my publishers were quite excited by the structure, though for me it was such an organic process – there was never a moment when I thought ‘and now I’m going to write backwards’.  Writing is about being playful, trying out new things, failing at things, and working out the best way of telling your particular story.  I doubt everything I do all of the time, so that’s nothing new, but I think as long as you are doubtful that you’re doing it correctly, you’re working hard to make it as good as it can be. I’ve never had the feeling when I’ve finished a book that it turned out the way I was hoping – there’s always going to be a feeling of failure there because you can’t set down on paper the exact atmosphere that living in your head for 35 years creates. That can be frustrating, but I think it’s the constant failure that spurs you on to write more and try harder.

RH: Jake’s present is a wonderful study of her state of mind and has elements of a psychological thriller: the slaughter of her sheep, the home invasions, her reaction to the arrival of a stranger. When she reluctantly reaches out to the local policeman, he seems more interested in drawing her into the community than addressing her concerns, which we discover are rooted in her past. I love the way her personality evolves (or devolves) as the story progresses and her past is revealed. Tell us a little about how you created Jake. Did you consciously decide how she’d change through her experiences or did the versions of her younger self emerge as you wrote those scenes?

EW: People are made up of layers of experience, and so it just makes sense to me that by lifting some of those experiences away the person changes. I’m not sure how conscious I was of doing it, perhaps because I’d become so close to her I was able to do it intuitively. 

RH: When reading (and re-reading!) All the Birds, Singing, I was struck by how Jake’s life is shaped by a lack of compassion, a trait Jake also seems to lack though as her story unfolds we see who she really is and why. Some of what she endured was incredibly harrowing. Why did you give her so much to overcome? Were there particular aspects of life or humanity that you wanted to showcase by giving Jake these experiences?

EW: I’m not sure Jake lacks compassion – she’s just very buttoned down. I think there’s a difference between being unable to show it and not having it. Strength is often characterized by not showing emotion, but that doesn’t mean that inside there isn’t a drama going on. Jake’s experience could be seen as very dramatic. Then again, there are real people who have endured worse. I’m not sure I have an answer for why I gave her so much to overcome – it feels more like that’s just what was happening and Jake is part of that tide. When you’re writing you don’t think, ‘right, now I need to have a bit of action, now something dramatic needs to happen’, it’s more that you get taken places by following the words. I wanted to have a look at anger. As a woman it’s a difficult thing to talk about – women are not supposed to get angry, the moment they do, they are accused of being hormonal, hysterical, insane. I never want to showcase or ‘examine’ anything in my writing with a means to providing an answer – I’m much more interested in a feeling of meditating on something, on just thinking long and hard about it but not coming to any conclusion. Life is not something that has a definite answer and for me that should be expressed in fiction.

RH: One of the reasons I’ve read your novel so many times – apart from the fact it is a brutally beautiful – is because of the structure. In each of your novels you use dual storylines woven through alternating chapters. All the Birds, Singing, weaves events in Jake’s past with her present, and your first award-winning novel, After the Fire, a Still Small Voice, weaves the present day story of Frank through that of Leon, his father. In both novels, the blending of these stories – the way the past reaches into the present and how events in the present illuminate the past – is seamless. You make it seem so effortless. Can you share with us a little about how you approach writing a novel with this type of structure? For example, do you write one story and then the other and then weave them together, or is it a more organic process?

EW: It’s organic, in that it’s a mess. I work from the middle of books outwards both ends. I write both stories simultaneously, because they inform each other so much. So I wrote about Frank’s father in After the Fire, a Still Small Voice, in order to understand Frank. I wrote about Jake’s past, about her childhood, so that I could know how she had become who was. I’m never all that sure of where the story is going while I’m writing it – it’s more a process of following the characters and seeing where they take me.

RH: They certainly take you to some interesting places. Throughout Jake’s contemporary story there are many oblique references that become clear once the whole tale is revealed. Yet All the Birds, Singing is also thick with subtext. Much of what happens can be taken literally but some have a much deeper meaning. Among reviewers I’ve noticed vast differences in interpretation of these events and it has certainly had me thinking about the book long after I’ve finished. Why is subtext so important to a story like Jake’s? Do you need to work at including subtext, or is it more of a serendipitous process apparent only once the first draft is done?

EW: The thing that is exciting to me about reading and about writing is that it is such a personal thing. So everyone who reads my book will come away with their own interpretation of it, how the characters look, the impact of certain moments, depending on how their own lives have turned out. 

RH: The settings of each of your novels are as much a part of the story as the characters. If Jake hadn’t lived where she did as a young girl, the drama that marks her might never have happened. Likewise, it’s where she lives on the island that contributes to her problems (and fear). Both Australia and an unnamed British island feature in All the Birds, Singing. You capture the landscapes and vernacular of both countries admirably.  Tell us a little about your background and to what extent this may influence your writing and/or the stories you create.

EW: I’m half Australian, half British, and have grown up between those two landscapes. The British side of me spent a lot of time on the Isle of Wight, the Australian side on a sugar cane farm in New South Wales. I always missed Australia as a kid, and I used to think about it and dream about it all the time. I was a bit of a loner, I liked being on my own, making up imaginary games and stories. I was also very quiet and shy – I watched a lot.

RH: I once heard a writer (Isabelle Allende, if I recall correctly) say that the best writers are those who sit on the outside.  Recently, I came across an interview you did for The Observer. In it you talk about being dangerously ill as a toddler and describe your uncertainty about what you remember, and how your family were hesitant to revisit those memories. Is the uncertainty of memory, or childhood illness, something you might explore in a novel?  How much do you draw on your own memories when creating a story?

EW: I wouldn’t dismiss any subject – perhaps I’ll get round to writing about childhood illness in a longer bit of work one day. I don’t really know how to answer the question of how much I draw on my own memories. Memories are the things that shape us, so they’re in everything. But it might just be the memory of a smell or an insect bite that sparks something off – it’s not necessarily a fully formed memory – as in it’s not a complete picture or story.

RH: As discussed, you’ve had wonderful literary success with both your novels and you’ve published several short stories as well as doing your bit to keep the bookstore alive. Could you share with us a little about your writing journey? For example, when did you know you wanted to write, how did you develop your craft, do you take part in writing or reading groups?

EW: I did a Creative Writing MA at Goldsmiths, not because I wanted to become a writer, but because I needed a reason to leave a bad job. I thought becoming better at expressing myself would be a useful way of becoming more employable. I was very lucky that during the MA I was picked up by an agent who encouraged me to write a novel. I never would have attempted it otherwise. I found the MA really useful, and was a member of a writing group for a while, but writing groups are not for me. I like to work on my own.

RH: Well, I for one am eager for your next book as are all your readers – no pressure *wink* So what’s next for Evie Wyld?

EW: I have a graphic novel coming out with Jonathan Cape next year. It’s memoir about growing up between Australia and the UK, and my feelings towards sharks.

RH: A graphic novel sounds exciting. Can’t wait for that, and of course to see how you feel about sharks!  Okay, so let’s get to your…

RH: What is your all-time favourite book/movie?

EW: Cloudstreet by Tim Winton/Jindabyne directed by Ray Lawrence

RH: What are you reading now?

EW: Fourth of July Creek by Smith Henderson

RH: What is your favourite word?

EW: Crap

RH: What is your worst writing habit?

EW: Not writing

RH: What is the best bit of advice you ever got (about writing or life in general)?

EW: You can invite the guests to the party but you can’t make them dance.

RH: Thanks so much for joining us today, Evie. Where can we find All the Birds, Singing and your other available works?

EW: In all good independent bookshops.

Support your local bookshop! Here are a few links to stores with an inline presence:  Booktopia, Bookworld, Dymocks

And if you happen to be in Peckham UK check out Review

 

Author Bio

Evie Wyld runs Review, a small independent bookshop London. Her first novel, After the Fire, as Still Small Voice, won the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize and a Betty Trask Award. In 2011 she was listed as one of the Culture Show’s Best New British Novelists. She was also shortlisted for the Orange Prize for New Writers, the Commonwealth Writers’ Prize and the International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award. Evie’s latest book All the Birds, Singing was published in 2013.

To learn more about Evie Wyld visit her on her website: http://www.eviewyld.com or connect with her on Twitter or Facebook

This interview was completed just before Evie won the Miles Franklin. Listen to Evie speaking about her win