- So, Richard, what are you working on at the minute?
All sorts. I’m writing a new novel, which is about a girl who decides to be really nice to everyone – though the novel itself is turning out really, really nasty, for some reason. Also, I’m slowly but surely adapting Apples for the big screen. Hopefully it’ll end up more surreal than the book – perhaps we can cast Middlesbrough’s famous talking CCTV cameras as the talking streetlights in the book. Providing they’re not absolute divas.
- Who would you say inspired you to take up the pen initially?
Definitely Irvine Welsh. I was overwhelmed by Trainspotting fever in the mid 90s, despite being only a nipper. The book seemed so unique and colourful (in every sense of the word), and made me think anything was possible in literature. A lot of people overlook the fact that Welsh is an incredibly experimental – yet accessible – writer; literature needed him back then, to give it a kick up the arse. He definitely gave me a kick up the arse, too, and I’ve never stopped writing since having that pleasure.
- It’s an absolute nightmare getting anywhere near either an agent or a publisher these days – how did you manage it?
I started sending short novels to publishers at 12 years old, and didn’t stop harassing them until I got published. I’ve got stacks and stacks of rejection letters at home but, instead of being disheartening, the rejections just spurred me on to prove them wrong. When I’d finished Apples, I only sent it to two publishers (Faber and Canongate: the only two that ever seemed interested), and within a month or two, Faber phoned me up to see if I fancied a pint and a natter about the book. One foolproof way of getting an agent is getting a publishing deal first – they all swarm round you like vultures after that.
- Your debut novel, ‘Apples’ was an original piece of work and managed to encompass both the ‘youth’ and ‘adult’ markets – so how did that come about?
I never intended it to be a book for adults or youths, really. It sounds like a cliché, but I did just write it for myself, for my own entertainment. I guess ‘Apples’ might’ve struck a chord with people because it was a book about teenagers written by a teenager (as opposed to some books about fifteen year-olds, which are written by folk in their thirties). To me, a lot of books usually aimed at ‘youths’ are a bit condescending or unrealistic, maybe because they’re censored for the ‘youth’ market. So I had no intention of aiming it at a certain age group – it’s a bit of a surprise, really, how many people ended up buzzing off it. Middle-aged women, for one, seem very keen on it. Not my granddad, though – my mam reckoned he didn’t really understand it.
- What are you reading at the minute then (apart from Radgepacket obviously)?
I’m re-reading ‘Steppenwolf’ by Hermann Hesse. It’s quite trippy in parts, but reading it now, I keep seeing my own personality in the Steppenwolf – this weird, reclusive fellow who divides his time between sticking his nose in lots of books, and going out on the lash trying to get into strange magic theatres.
- You still live in Middlesborough and your work tends to be based there – do you find that your family and friends all reckon you’re writing about them and get arsey about it?
Luckily no one’s noticed yet. I usually amalgamate loads of different peoples’ personality traits into one character, so it’s not obvious who’s who. Plus there’s always quite a bit of myself in each character. Bobby the Artist, for example, could easily be compared to myself, but more than that he’s a combination of lots of my pals in Boro.
- ‘Ten Storey Love Song’ is a bit of a page turner (any book named after a Stone Roses tune gets my vote – Ed) and the characters very easy to relate to but how come you wrote it all as one paragraph and just how hard was that to do?
I’ve always been interested in ‘experimental’ writing and, after writing the ‘Claire’ chapters in Apples (which are themselves one paragraph long), I really wanted to write a one paragraph novel, just to see if it was possible, more than anything else. Modern literature, for some reason, still seems to be governed by certain rules and regulations (like chapters, flashbacks, paragraphs…), when really you can do whatever you like with words. Rather than being difficult, it was really liberating writing to the restraint of one paragraph, working out how it was all going to flow together. I like the way each page of text looks a bit like a block of flats, as well. The book itself is like some kind of literary doll’s house; you get to open it at your leisure, and stare – like a giant - at the inhabitants of the tower block.
- Parmo, Greggs Stotties or Pie and chips?
I would’ve said Parmo, but last week one repeated on me in a terrible fashion. Saying that, I discovered Bolognese Parmos the other week – whoever invented them is a genius. It’s like three meals in one slab. But today, I’ll go for pie and chips, as long as there’s some beans on there as well. Beef and onion, if you’re offering.
- We have a number of literary heroes here at BB towers – who would you say yours were and why?
For a while now, the Surrealists have been a big influence. While a lot of their writing was bizarre and difficult to swallow, I love the way they weren’t afraid to appear a bit mad, churning out work that came from the very darkest, weirdest recesses of their brains. Aside from the Surrealists, I love Richard Brautigan’s prose – all his similes simultaneously bring a smile to your face and make you scratch your head. I can’t think of a better reaction to a piece of writing.
- Any advice you could give the unpublished wannabe’s out there?
Put the same amount of graft in as a heart surgeon would, or a rocket scientist. Like Jack Kerouac says: ‘You’ve got to stick to it with the energy of a Benny [speed] addict.’ The best thing to do is just constantly send stuff out to publishers, keep writing, keep experimenting. After four or five rejected novels, I started self-publishing my work. I bound a short novel together with duct tape, drew a lady on the front, and sent it out. I don’t know if it was the writing inside, or the lady on the front, but from that novel I got to write for ‘The Face’ magazine, and very nearly got a publishing deal with Canongate.
- Do you fancy a bit of ‘Dancing on Ice’ to raise your profile?
Only if I fancy losing my dignity, my mind, or breaking my spine.
- Do you follow the old ‘write what you know’ adage or do you reckon that’s a load of bollocks?
Yeah, I think you should definitely have some idea about what you’re writing about, to make it feel authentic – it’s the little details that make writing so wonderful, and believable. Having said that, it’s vital to have a wild imagination, too. To get the balance right between insight, authenticity, and downright madness is next to saintliness, to me.
- Who would play you in the film of your life?
Danny DeVito for my younger years, Steve Buscemi for my later years, and Steven Segal can do the stunts.
- And what sort of soundtrack would you like playing?
Something daft and psychedelic, like Syd Barrett.
- What about the future – do you fancy writing novels until you’re too old to type any more or is it a case of ‘nailed that’ and moving on to something else?
I can’t see myself ever stopping writing novels. It’s an addiction. It’d be amazing to reach a Burroughsian eighty years old, still scribbling weird novels, like a dirty old man. Or maybe I’ll have gone completely soft by then.
- Finally, if you could have been in Trainspotting which character would you have liked to have been?
I’d love to be Begbie for a day. It’d be nice to have a high-density tache for a bit (I still can’t muster one up), and it might be a laugh smashing someone over the head with a pool cue.
The Radgepacket team and all at Byker Books would like to take this opportunity to thank Richard for his time and wish him further success with his writing career (like he needs our help there…!) and hope he writes a book about Byker sometime soon!
We would also like to point out that Middlesbrough isn’t really a dark and gloomy place. There’s some really nice bits and everyone who lives there’s dead friendly and that...Chris Rea’s from round that way you know...tell ya mate to put the gun down Rich eh...