Tag: Writing Life

Writer Interview, Writers Chat, Writers Read

Writers Chat 62: Margo Gorman on “Sense of Self Alphabet” – In search of dialogue.

Margo, You’re very welcome to my Writers Chat series. We’re going to chat about your intriguing “Sense of Self Alphabet” which emerged as you “searched for a stronger sense of he self to face the future” after experiencing lockdown and isolation which Covid-19 brought to many and with this alphabet you also hope to dialogue with people.

SG: So this is a “Writers Chat” about a work in progress, a work that is evolving with you, and with the world.  I find it an intriguing idea and an interesting read – it feels like it needs to be a book more than a blog – have you any thoughts on this?

MG: The Blog gives me freedom and hope for a new form of publication which is interactive. I am more and more hesitant to submit my writing to trends in the publishing “industry”. My indie publisher for Michel-Michelle boycotts Amazon so marketing a book is a challenge. The internet creates a certain kind of intimacy and fluidity with more potential for connection. Sabine made me smile when she said she didn’t mind being on the blog as not many people follow it. I hope that will change when I finish the alphabet. I plan to do a summary including comments and maybe share that with friends and other networks. I like the way I can modify the content of the blog.

SG: I can see how the blog gives you so much artistic freedom. What started this project, and why an alphabet?

MG: The alphabet was inspired by discussions on gender fluidity when I published Michel-Michelle. LBGTQ+ is great but it is not enough and as a bisexual Ulster woman I suffered for decades from labels which boxed me in. Like Kathleen O’ Donnell in her novel  Slant, I want to reach out to young people. I am so shocked that they still suffer from gender inequality despite the liberation we fought for in the last century. During Covid, the alphabet merged with notes for a memoir although on the blog I avoid private details of family and friends unless they have given their OK or are dead. The alphabet commemorates ghosts who kept me company when I was in the Covid Cocoon. My alphabet is also a fun wood-wide-web slingshot to the global concern Alphabet INC which holds the shares for Google Services.

SG: In “Age” remembering some events from childhood, you ask “Is a search for hope in the childlike belief in innocence, magic, mystery, and interconnected humanity an illusion?” and perhaps you touch on the duality of human nature – we are both cruel and kind, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. In the same post you recall “I shake the wild mane of red hair over my face, no longer ironed into place, and hope no-body recognises me and tells the family in Ireland.” (This sentiment of shame, and hoping you’re not recognised also runs through O’Donnell’s debut Slant which was launched in Hodges Figgis on 31st May) And both of these thoughts made me wonder that in spending so much of our time trying not to be ourselves, that we still struggle to recognise who we are, at an age when we are led to believe we should be experiencing some sort of wisdom and settling. How can we, when, as a people, we have hardly rooted?

MG: It wasn’t shame which shook my hair over my face. I was just too much of a coward to challenge the double standards which dominated Irish culture  telling us not to make a show of yourself and keep oppression private. It was about protecting my personal liberation of owning my own body. It was too hard to express lesbian or bisexual liberation openly especially in 1970’s Ireland. I left Ireland because sectarianism made it impossible to campaign collectively for Civil Rights and feminism was seen as a distraction from the National Struggle. My sense of self ducked and dived through decades of duality of gender and sectarian polarisation. Now I seek roots in a sense of self which recognises the power of interconnection. Any progress made is not linear. My time spiral is more like the symbol of the Triskele – with its three curved sections from a common centre. 

SG: Interconnection feels so necessary now. In this same first post, you ask Is it possible to connect “pockets of liberation” in the solidarity of a Wood Wide Web?” and it strikes me that what you are doing is walking the land, similarly to Manchán Magan (and his great Listen to the Land Speak), and using this (unlike Magan) to track and link political and societal (and personal) changes in the past with those we are experiencing today. Do you think that in working on the personal that the communal can benefit?

MG: Yes, I do believe working on personal consciousness can benefit communal awareness.  I am a fan of Manchan Magan’s love of nature and language but I also intentionally seek connection between everyday life and economic and social change. The success of LBGTQ+ shows we can merge individual and communal consciousness of gender oppression to gain a majority for same sex marriage in Ireland, but we face greater challenges than that. Our self-image is vulnerable to economic and social forces, which dominate our everyday consumption and degrade human nature and the planet. It might take more than a walk in the woods to develop the potential of an alphabet on gender. I hope my alphabet provokes more exploration of private versus public; or personal versus communal; or human nature versus holistic nature. 

SG: For me it did, and I’m sure for others, too. I’m also fascinated by your examination of Ego and Eco. You say, “Ego needs to win in a battle against opposing forces. Eco needs interconnectedness – a network of interdependence and resolution of conflict” and it feels like it is eco that the world needs more than ever. Can you talk about your connection to the land and those connections to the generations of your family that farmed this land before you. Given the land is in the north of Ireland, I’m curious about two things here, epigenetics and the sense of the land having memory.

MG: For me Eco is an expression of communal ownership of place. Ego expresses individual power and control. My connection to the land where I live now is a mix of Irish sentimental family history and a need to belong somewhere. It was also an economic decision as a site on what was once the family farm was the only viable option for erratic self-employment in Europe after redundancy from Save the Children in the UK. A rural environment fulfilled a material desire for trees, vegetable garden, plants, and flowers. Donegal light creates what Kerri ní Dochartaigh calls Thin Places. The land has a lot more memory and history than four green fields. Donegal  is a good antidote to the limitations of  Ireland’s post-colonial inferiority and resentment. I was born and grew up in Northern Ireland and I I belong on both sides of the border through Ireland but I hope the nationalistic fervour of the last century is past its sell-by date. Vron Ware in Return of the Native: Learning from the land  gives a brilliant exposition of what the land tells us about the social and economic history of humans. She traces the impact of colonialism. capitalism, war, and ecological movements etc. on a small corner of Hampshire in England. This local-global perspective could help us face the huge task of stopping the degradation of people and place which we are all part of today. In Donegal there are still some places where we can find links with people who migrated here 5000 years ago. 

SG: It’s incredible to think of this! Of course it also ties in well to your post under “C for CIS/Closet/Council of Europe/Claire”, your brief exploration your ground-breaking work with the Council of Europe, and of a two-week training course you took with “ACC Au Coeur de la Communication/ In the Heart of Communication”, based on the work of Claire Neur, who is new to me. Given that people like Brené Brown explore the strength in vulnerability, it seems Neur’s theories as you summarise them, “Through exploring our fear of vulnerability, we could find a source of strength” were ahead of their time. It also strikes me that 1995 was a key turning point not only in Europe but around the world. I was teaching in Mexico that year when the rebellion in Chiapas happened (and continues today, as does the inequality).

MG: 1991 and the end of the Soviet Union and the maturity of Thatcher-Reagan economics was a key turning point for me. The shift in the balance of power towards a more global economy created new opportunities for corruption and inequality everywhere. Global finance and powerplay used technology and the internet to speed up exploitation of nature and lead us into more wars and more refugees. Speed, competition, and consumption distract us from a sense of community and connection. The proliferation of self-help gurus is a symptom of the dislocation.  I have found they help me survive  but usually miss the underlying structural causes which lead me to dip into despair. Claire Nuer worked in industry before she got cancer which led her to explore what the holocaust of WWII with its economic and social aftermath had unleashed in our collective consciousness. Her presence stays with me although her organisation was banned in France as a cult! A revenge story from an individual man who was threatened by divorce proceedings. Even anonymous individuals can be destructive to collective consciousness. I was glad to see Claire Nuer was resurrected by the nuerfoundation.

SG: As well as questioning and philosophical, much of the writing is quite poetic for example, talking of the lockdown in Covid, you say, “Memories of the mesh of murmured secrecy in the carved wood of the confessional box in the old church in Strabane wound their way up the spiral of time… Trees help me create a perspective on the time spiral.” It would seem that patterns from your past emerged, uninvited, with old wounds, into your present, and it made me think about time, and how we assume it is linear (at least we are taught to believe this).

MG: For me time is a spiral where linear time and space meet. Linear time is my way of coping with the limitations of my life on planet Earth day to day and season to season. Trees remind me that human life has a variable and short span.  Whooper swans migrating from Iceland to over-winter in Donegal remind me of the hidden connections that bind us together in space and time. A starry night in Donegal reduces the need to pick the scabs of old wounds.  I think of the defiance of women astronomers. The galaxy gives time a different dimension and challenges everyday oppression. I remember old  friends who have dissipated into universal energy. That sounds a bit high flown so maybe time is just a kite that the wind on Murvagh strand can snap from my hand any minute so I take comfort in the memories of past times. My failure as a writer through the  decades vanishes when I look back at my life choices. John Banville once said that he sometimes wished he had lived more and written less. Moi, je ne regrette rien.

SG: In the alphabet (E, F and G) that forms this conversation (and you’ll have written more by the time this conversation is published), you weave links between figures, saints, music, nature, politics and Gay and LBGTQ+ rights, and nature. You give a very personal history of activism and those you met during the years in England and at the same time you manage to connect all of this to diversity in music, therapies, poetry and resisting categorisation.  Everything comes down to asking how (and if) all of these can contribute to undoing the harm to our planet, and to ourselves.

MG: Yes it’s a bit of a mishmash but that’s intentional. The search for connections is a spiral of past, present and future. A lifetime of activism mixed with career has only scratched images in the sand. Faced with a tidal wave of climate crisis, I am searching for hope through the small things that make me feel better. The connections between everyday life in Europe and what is happening in Africa are closer than we imagine. Finance capital reaches into our everyday pockets and helps us dump rubbish on poor people.. Boycotting Amazon or giving up my Twitter account are OK for me with a pension. For a writer trying to sell more books, it’s only an option if we create an alternative movement which sells more of our books through indie outlets than Amazon can. That time will come and then maybe my blog can be a book.

SG: In “H” (Heterosexual, and Holy Halls/ Heilige Hallen), you “ snap a twig into the peaceful silence to protect the grove of memory where trees took root in my sense of self”. In this post, you allow the trees to help you very movingly explore your wounds of childhood through memories of Leslie, a forbidden friend whose family left Strabane for the countryside, while also holding aloft your worries about choices/polarisation of life – rural Donegal/urban Berlin. As in “J for Joy and Jealousy” and K for Kaleidoscope reminds us that how we perceive the diversity around us is important”, the threads between past and present merge and it seems again that if we look after our local (selves), then the universal (community/world) will also benefit. Could you talk about this?  

MG: In 2021, I unearthed the Act Local: Think Global slogan from the last century. This slogan was highjacked by US corporations who used it for marketing products which we consume. The UN targets for sustainable development from the Rio Summit were undermined by marketing campaigns from the fossil fuel industry. They knew campaigns only work if they connect local awareness and action to potential impact at a global level. We could take lessons from that. Planting 12000 saplings in 2021 in Donegal was a symbolic gesture to inspire others but who has time to know or care about it? 

SG: Unfortunately, you’ve captured it – people do care, but who has the time to actively care? I particularly enjoy the references at the end of your posts, and really loved the link to David Rothenberg and the nightingale in Berlin. Stunning. I’m really looking forward to reading more and learning more about fighting the good fight, and the repetition of history, patterns of human behaviour and polarisation (or as you put it US V THEM). So we’ll end with some short questions:

  • City or rural or both? Rural for roots and writing. City for people and proliferation.
  • Laptop or longhand? Laptop since my first in the 1990’s because it gives endless opportunities for editing. Longhand when I want to delve into my sense of self.
  • Cat or dog? Dogs because of their sixth sense
  • Boat or plane? Boat to get on and off the island but train is my favourite mode of transport so Germany is my second home.
  • What are you reading now? I like reading Irish writers from the Irish Writers’ Centre WORD Group such as your novel, Happiness comes from Nowhere. I dream of sustainable  cultural co-operation between writers rather than marketing one of my novels which may have the shelf life of a yogurt. In German I am reading Dörte Hansen’s Zur See which is an allegory for island life in this century. Her fictional island in the North Sea is an expert exposition of relationships between people and our environment. Tourists romanticise the life on the island and are unaware of the social and economic history they are part of. Big business is everywhere. Instead of B and B with locals in the last century there are hotel spas with Wi-Fi. The local crabbers no longer catch their own crabs. Parenting, creative life, making a living, belief systems, aging on the island are chronicled with the seasons and family history. The grounded whale is a reminder of the big wave which the traumatised “skipper” of the ferry survived when the fishing trawler was swallowed up by the sea. It’s a reminder Ireland is an island.
  • What are you writing now? I have a novel ready for publication but I am hesitant to go ahead. The German translation of my novel  Bone and Blood dominates my current writing time. A group of us have a proposal to do a commemoration in 2025 in Berlin of Irish women who  were imprisoned in Ravensbrueck concentration camp during World War II. Cathi Fleming from Cork has researched Sister Kate Mc Carthy and others who worked in the resistance to fascism in France. It would be great if there was a chance to do something in Ireland too so all interest welcome.

Thank you to Margo for her enlightening answers and I look forward to continuing to follow her alphabet series.

Margo’s novel Bone and Blood can be purchased on Books.ie

Margo has included details of some of the publications she mentioned in her answers: Dörte Hansen’s Zur See published by Penguin; Kerri ní Dochartaigh Thin Places; Vron Ware in Return of the Native: Learning from the land published by Repeater books; Nuer Foundation http://www.nuerfoundation.org; Shauna Gilligan Happiness comes from Nowhere published by Ward Wood.

Collaboration, Writer Interview, Writing Life

#TwoTalk2: Creative Writing, Teaching and Learning

I was delighted to be featured on the Irish Universities Association #TwoTalk2 Series. This is a video series developed by the Irish Universities Association where Director General Jim Miley talks to a guest for two minutes.

Jim asks me about teaching creative writing and Mantles (Arlen House, 2021).

#TwoTalk2 Director General Jim Miley interviews me for 2 minutes about teaching creative writing in Maynooth University and my collaboration with Margo McNulty, Mantles.
Writer Interview, Writers Chat, Writers Read, Writing Life

Writers Chat 57: Richard Fulco on “We Are All Together” (Wampus: 2022)

Front cover of We Are All Together showing a black and white sketch of a stage with instruments lined up against a stool, waiting to be played.

SG: Richard, Welcome to my Writers Chat series. Congratulations on your second novel, We Are All Together which comes out this November 2022 with Wampus. Let’s start with the cover. As We Are All Together is so person-centric, I’m curious about the cover which is a black and white sketch of the various instruments (literally) of We Are All Together. What message/s did you want to convey with this, and how much input did you have, working with Wampus, into the cover design?

RF: One reason I love working with Wampus is that its founder and creative director Mark Doyon provides me with ample feedback on everything from marketing to editing. Ultimately, Wampus leaves the decision-making up to its artists, so I am eternally grateful for the creative freedom that I have.

The cover art was created by my brilliant partner, the painter Nan Ring. She and I discussed the concept. I wanted something fairly cynical yet simple. The bare stage: a guitar, amplifier, microphone and stool. But where are the musicians? Nan and I wanted the cover art to start a conversation. We wanted to pose several questions considering the title of the book.

The Beatles have been an enormous presence on me as a writer and on this particular novel. The book’s title is from “I Am the Walrus.” “I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.” The title claims, “We are all together” but in fact, the characters are not all together at the beginning of the book. In the United States, we are not united, never was, and yet we are inextricably linked nevertheless. I don’t think the irony will be lost on readers.

In addition, the edges of the image dissolve, indicating the ephemeral nature of life and art. Even as we are here together, we are all slowly leaving this world, which makes the present moment all the more intensely poignant and beautiful.

SG: Thank you for that explanation – it’s interesting to hear the story and conversations behind the cover and title. Leading on from this, it seems that We Are All Together could not have been set in any other era and any other country than the 1960s New York (and other cities).  Was the era – and all the conflicts of national and individual identity – what brought you to this story?

RF: Syd Barrett and The Pink Floyd brought me to the story and the recent politics in America provided me with a blueprint.

It began as a rock and roll novel about a young musician so desperate to make it that he’s willing to do anything, even betray his best friend. I drew upon my experiences as a desperate musician, living the life of a starving artist, doubting my abilities, and unwilling to face the truth about my artistic pursuits.

For several years, I wrote about music on my blog, Riffraf. I had the opportunity to interview the great rock photographer Mick Rock who had taken some of the most iconic photos in rock and roll: David Bowie and Mick Ronson, Iggy Pop, Lou Reed and of course Syd Barrett. Syd’s story was a compelling yet strange one, and Mr. Rock shared his experiences with Syd that really piqued my interest. At the height of his musical powers, Syd just checked out. Was he an acid casualty? Was it mental illness? Or did he no longer wish to make music with the band he formed?

David Gilmour said, “Syd’s story is a sad story, romanticized by people who don’t know anything about it. They’ve made it fashionable, but it’s just not that way.” I am by no means trying to romanticize Syd’s story. Although I’ve included some of Pink Floyd’s mythology and lore. My novel resembled Syd’s story in the beginning, but eventually morphed into something more socio-political than I had anticipated. I owe a great debt to the American politics of the past decade.

SG: I thought you captured the public/private self well alright. Stephen is constantly trying to please those around him – on stage, at parties and even when he is supposed to be engrossed in his music he steps out of his reality to remember, for example, seeing the Beatles on TV. Stephen’s journey – and that of the reader – is about using others to find or create himself. Would you class this novel as a coming-of-age tale, a bildungsroman? Or is it more of a morality tale about vanity? Or does it belong to a genre at all?

RF: Whereas my first book, THERE IS NO END TO THIS SLOPE, is a coming-of-middle-age novel, this one is a more traditional bildungsroman. The novel’s protagonist, Stephen Cane, is a naive twenty-one-year old narcissist who is wrestling with his parents’ mixed messages, dreams, vocation and the belief that he is not a truly great man.

Stephen and his partner and friend, Dylan John, are young men on their own individual psychological, spiritual and moral journeys. Dylan travels in one direction as a civil rights activist, while Stephen, on a separate path, pursues his love for rock and roll. WE ARE ALL TOGETHER is also a buddy novel and a road novel. There’s even a touch of historical fiction and perhaps some thriller/mystery elements tossed in for good measure.

I suppose there are moral questions posed, but I don’t think of the novel as a morality play. At what lengths would you go to gain success? What role does the artist play in this world? Does the world need another rock star? Now that I think about it, Dylan is kind of like Everyman who is trying to justify his time on the earth.

SG: Yes, there is a touch of Dylan as the seer, and also the Everyman. While We Are All Together is, on a top level, an exploration of the lure of fame, and perhaps a commentary on a capitalist society – “My old man had been instructing me ever since I was a boy that whenever money was involved, I should seize the opportunity, no matter who gets shredded in the process, even if that person ultimately turns out to be me….” – it also sets its gaze at parent/child relationships in the formation of “character”, and “reinvention”. Early in the novel, we’re told:

“Some mothers inspire their children to aspire to greatness, to reach for the stars, like Arthur’s mother. But my mother, who was kind of musical in her own way, singing in the church choir and all, encouraged me to play it safe…the world ‘dream’ just wasn’t in her vocabulary.”

To what extent do you think Stephen’s strict religious moral upbringing with a focus on money making, is related to his constant misjudging what is expected of him in the relationships he tries to forge? I’m thinking here of the complex relationship with Emily, and then later with her as Gentle Wind (who, perhaps accurately, claims he has “never loved anyone” in his life).

RF: I’m not sure that Stephen misjudges Emily (also known as Gentle Wind). He witnesses her prejudice and bigotry on their first night together when she makes an anti-semitic remark. I think Stephen chooses to overlook Emily’s questionable, reprehensible behavior because she’s not only beautiful, but she’s also a terrific artist. He’s a young, lonely loser who just had his heart broken and is desperate in both art and love. He’s seeking the love, attention and approval that his parents failed to provide. Stephen is truly impressed with Emily’s natural talent. Wondering if he possesses greatness himself, Stephen wants to be near greatness, hoping that maybe some of Emily’s will rub off on him.

SG: I was thinking not that he misjudges her but that he misjudges the relationship. This desire to be near greatness, as you say, is also why he has John as a friend. You make great use of description, colour, and visuals to capture the clothes, atmosphere and attitudes of 1967, or the Summer of Love. From Emily’s “ratty dungarees with holes in both knees”, “yellow button down with a wide collar and large bright silver buttons”, to the “purple stairs” which Stephen and Emily descend, and a projection of a montage of “films of suburban families opening presents in front of a Christmas tree, psychedelic mushroom swirls, the conflict that was heating up in Vietnam, and police officers beating negroes with Billy clubs.” Or later the band is

“decked out in black and wearing dark shades… stunning female back-up singer, a blonde mannequin in a white leisure suit and black scarf”.

It strikes me that We Are All Together is very filmic. Could you see it as a film – or a play, given your playwriting background?

RF: I never envisioned this book as a play. Though I do think there is some fairly decent dialogue within. When I write a play, I accept the stage as my biggest challenge. I love writing dialogue, but I also consider ways to tell my story visually? Writing a novel is quite different. And for this book I attempted to write a more traditional, linear tale, but I wanted to go really big with its visuals. Let’s include a chapter with Andy Warhol and the Factory. Why not take a trip across America? I like Pete Townshend, so let’s make him a character. My vision was broad and ranging. I saw the narrative quite clearly. The Sixties provided me with color, extraordinary political events, and powerful images, so I’ve tried my best to preserve them in prose.

SG: Yes, you’re right about the vision – and it’s quite a journey you bring the reader on. We Are All Together also explores the expanding, changing world of music (and touches on the art and film world with Warhol making multiple appearances) in the 1960s, and shows the reader – through Stephen – how closely it was linked to political change. How important was it for you to track socio-political change and in doing so, echo tensions and polarisation in America of today?

RF: When I embarked on this project, my intention was to recall some of my experiences as a singer in a rock and roll band in the 80s and 90s. I set it during the Summer of Love because I wanted the protagonist to be somewhat of a precursor to punk, someone outside the mainstream. But early on it was clear to me that the character I thought was the book’s protagonist, Dylan John, was really the protagonist’s (Stephen Cane) foil.

The more research I did on the Summer of Love the more I learned about The Long, Hot Summer where more than 150 riots had taken place across America, the most notable rebellions were in Detroit and Newark.

As a white writer, I discovered that there were two narratives in the summer of ‘67. The white narrative of The Summer of Love – peace, love, and understanding, is more mainstream, while the black narrative of racial injustice, discord and the quest for equality takes a back seat.

I’m ashamed to say that I really didn’t know too much about the Long, Hot Summer until I began writing this novel. The more I wrote, the more invested I had become. Dylan John questions his role in society and decides to join the fight for civil rights. He doesn’t think the world needs another rock star. He believes the world needs soldiers in the fight for justice.

I created two narratives that parallel the socio-political events of the time. There is Stephen Cane’s story – The Summer of Love – and then there’s Dylan John’s story, The Long, Hot Summer. It was a very conscious dichotomy. While I was writing the book, America was in turmoil, mimicking the events of 1967. WE ARE ALL TOGETHER is set during the Summer of 1967, but I’m really commenting on present day America.

SG: That duality and commentary comes across really strongly, Richard. It really speaks of how our own situation as writers and the when/where we are writing from seems into our narratives. Stephen and Dylan John/Arthur Devane are polarised characters in this respect and your use of dialogue worked well in this respect. Can you talk about the relationship between Dylan John and Stephen Cane and how this asks questions about the role of the artist in society – is it to provoke? Create change? Make money? Do something “meaningful”, as Dylan says?

RF: We Are All Together addresses a nation struggling with its mythological past and the effects it has had on the integrity of the individual. Does the artist owe the world anything? Does the ailing world need another rock star? The role of the artist is to comment on the world. The artist seeks truth. The artist tries to make sense of this perplexing world. If the art is truthful it might offer a fresh point of view for the audience (or reader).

SG: Questions that are timeless. But was it difficult to incorporate real musicians and bands (The Beatles, The Velvet Underground, Mamas and Papas etc) into the fictional world of We Are All Together whilst maintaining the integrity of Stephen’s story?

RF: It was actually quite fun. I particularly enjoyed writing about George Harrison. I wanted to write about the time George was in Haight-Ashbury and how disappointed he was in the flower power counterculture. And there is Stephen Cane in the midst of it all, pleading with George to listen to the only song he has ever written.

The infamous story is that George and his wife Patti visited the Haight on August 8, 1967, but were really turned off by the culture. In his biography Dark Horse, Harrison said, “Somehow I expected them to all own their own little shops. I expected them all to be nice and clean and friendly and happy.” Instead, he said, he found the hippies “hideous, spotty little teenagers.”

SG: Again, it’s that duality – perception/ expectation/ reality. Part of Stephen’s journey is also experimenting with various class A drugs, especially heroin “his papa” which eases his guilt at

“Failing to protect my mother when my father went to town on her with his black belt and wide silver buckle. Breaking up Ghost Spider. Replacing Dylan in Red Afternoon. Sleeping with my best friend’s wife”.

There are times when our sympathy for Stephen wanes. But you pull us back with humour and bizarre horror, such as The Jolly Jokesters on their magic bus, Furthermore which bring both reader and Stephen out of his self-obsession and back into the reality of a divided society. Can you comment on the humour in the novel?

RF: I wouldn’t say WE ARE ALL TOGETHER is a particularly hilarious novel. One might find the hapless Stephen Cane somewhat amusing. Certainly Tony Campbell, the writer and entrepreneur, might make one smile. Neal Cassady has his moments too. Though even in the dark there is light. Mark Twain said, “The secret source of humor itself is not joy but sorrow. There is no humor in heaven.” Whenever I’m writing I search for the humor in the tragic. I’ve written a number of tragicomedy one-act plays, and I approach all of my writing with some levity. You can’t write from inside a casket all the time, right?

SG: Exactly! So, lastly, Richard, let’s conclude our Writers Chat session with some fun questions:

  • If you could be a character in your novel, who would it be? Clementine. She is a poet, a lover, a traveller, a wandering spirit, an adventurer, a good friend.
  • What song from We Are All Together would be its soundtrack? “Arnold Layne” by Pink Floyd influenced the psychedelic songs written by Dylan John, Red Afternoon and even Stephen Cane’s one song.
  • Silence or noise when writing? Noise while writing. Silence while editing.
  • Favourite band doing the circuit today? Wilco.
  • What is the most surprising read you’ve had this year? The Talented Mr. Ripley and Oh William! 
Photograph of smiling Richard Fulco wearing black-rimmed glasses and a navy-blue shirt, against a background of a lake and forests.

Purchase We Are All Together at Barnes and Noble, Amazon or AppleBooks

Learn more about Richard Fulco at Wampus.

With thanks to Richard Fulco and Wampus for an advance copy of We Are All Together.