These
questions are about the short story “A Small Man Takes a Stand, Or Not,
Depending”, and definitely contains spoilers which, once seen, cannot be
unseen. For the actual short story
itself, please go here.
*CONTAINS SPOILERS!*
First of all, why did you write it in the second person? I’ve read a lot people saying that’s the very
worst way to write a story.
The main reason I wrote it in
second person to make it more like a ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’TM story.
Aha. And… well, why make it like
a ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’TM story though?
I’m not totally sure. I just had this idea for a story I wanted to
write, a story that ends with the reader having to choose between a bunch of shitty
alternatives, where none of them are good choices. Because I had this idea that sometimes in
life, there just aren’t any good
options, and the best thing you can do is choose the least bad option, and I
wanted to do that in a story. It also seemed
like a really nice story-telling tool, a cool way of telling a story and
leaving the end open, but not completely
open – it’s open, but limited to a specific range of possibilities. So I had that idea of using that technique
to tell a story, and this story seemed to lend itself to that kind of ending:
the only good choice is one he can’t choose, because of his own internal
fuckedupness. To be honest, I actually
really like how it worked. So clearly I
have a very different idea of what works, compared to what actual professional
magazine editors think works.
You sent this one to journals?
Yup, lots of them. No-one wanted it. I waited for a long long time before I
self-published this one, so confident was I that someone else would see it for
the literary masterpiece it was. But, as
usual, I was way off the mark.
No-one wanted it?
Nope. I still don’t know if it was the writing, the
story, the ending, the topic/themes, the second person thingie, or what. Oh well, eh?
Maybe it was because it’s not really a story, it’s a vignette.
What? No, it’s a total story!
Yeah, but, well, it doesn’t have an ending. No-one learns or grows or changes or redeems
or anything. You’ve got this unlikeable
guy who stays unlikeable, doing unlikeable things, and planning on doing more
unlikeable things. That’s not a story, that’s
a whatsit, a character study. It’s like you’ve written a nice background
piece to the actual story, or something.
It totally has an ending! In fact, it has more endings than most
stories do, so nyer. And yes it’s a complete story. Inciting incident: daughter says he’s got a
small penis. Arc: he descends into a
spiral of self-sabotage and self-defensiveness, which, in classical tragedian
form, means his personal flaws drive him to his own unpleasant destiny. If Macbeth is a story, then so is this,
dammit.
You seriously just compared this silly little half-tale to Shakespeare?
Meh. I never liked Shakespeare, to be honest. Anyway.
Any more questions? Because I’ve
got important fiction to write-
What motivated you to write this ‘story’? Are you self-conscious about the size of your
own penis?
No, jeez, my stories aren’t about
me.
Seriously, they’re about the characters in my stories. Why does everyone think every story I write
is autobiographical? For the record, I
have no problems with the heft of my own petard, it’s not about me. It’s about this mega-privileged old-school
economically-elite middle-aged male plagued with toxic masculinity. I’m really interested in writing about toxic
masculinity, because I think that so much of the damage to our shared world comes
directly from the way males tend to be raised.
The way males are raised to be these emotionless touchless softnessless
arseholes shits me no end. I never understood
it, and I’ve fought against it all my life, and I think there are a lot of
benefits in lifting the various veils that shroud toxic masculinity, so,
really, that’s what I was trying to do here.
It’s about interrogating that feeling of being trapped in an imaginary
world with only a few choices to choose from – so often a man’s choices come
down to hit or be hit, when there are a whole world of other valid choices out
there. Traditionally, men aren’t taught
how to stand down. Men aren’t taught how
to concede or compromise or let things go – and they’re taught to resolve
conflict through fighting, either with their fists or their raised voice. And they’re given so much leeway when it
comes to being overbearing and/or antagonistic and/or unreasonable (the whole “boys
will be boys” bullshit). And so bad dumb
unnecessary shit happens. They’re also
traditionally trained to care an awful lot about their penises, as a locus of
worth. That the size of a body part
could mean so much to someone speaks volumes about how we’re fixated on the
wrong things here. So the story’s really
about interrogating all of that sort of stuff.
So it’s not about your penis then.
No!
You’re quite sure.
Definitely sure. Not about me or my penis.
Okay, fine. Hey, so what’s the
cocktail?
It’s a Last Word, an American
prohibition-era cocktail that seemed sufficiently specific enough to be the
chap’s signature drink. I wanted
something that could be quite expensive (illuminating the chap’s financial
privilege) and quite fancy in a very specific direction, if you know what I
mean, something to drink with the Better Half that still was classic but not
common. I also thought that it would be
a very difficult cocktail to make non-alcoholic, as it contains three different
spirits, and so I could imagine mastering such a challenge would be a huge
source of pride for the second-person chap through whose eyes we see the story
unfold. Because he’s all about show,
isn’t he: really, it’s all about what other people think about him. That’s his big flaw.
Is it possible to make one non-alcoholic?
Haven’t found one online
yet. All the more reason for him to be
so proud that he managed to pull it off.
The Worse Half in this story is a complete misogynistic arse, and yet
you claim to be quite a nice person. Was
it difficult writing someone so allegedly different to yourself?
Unfortunately, no. Our culture is so steeped in unpleasant
self-righteous misogynistic arseholery that I really didn’t have step too far
outside my own head to access the right mindset. Sucks, but true. Also, as a small aside, it occurred to me
while writing this that normally “misogynists” are fictionally represented as working-class,
or thuggish, or uneducated, or hillbilly, in some way intrinsically different
to well-off educated mainstreamers, so I felt it was important to represent the
misogyny of the “head of the household”-type of character – the ugly
presumptuous misogyny of mainstream male privilege.
So, which of the endings do you think he chose?
I like to hope it was the last
one. I like to hope that he chose to inflict
his crippled internal feelings of unworthiness upon himself only. But, well, you read the news reports every
day – you know that’s not often how things go down.
It’s hard to face the world sometimes, isn’t it.
It is.
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