Interview with Author Robert Garnham

Robert Garnham's amusing and modestly absurd piece "A Curse on the Pig" brought us some necessary, unexpected humor. We were somewhat tickled to learn more about the author and his résumé of fun, creative work. We hope you'll enjoy our chat with him below, and think you'll find some additional amusement there too.

What makes you keep writing, even when it's hard?

Writing is so easy on the days when everything goes well, but that doesn’t often happen. Whenever I write I have clear objectives, which helps enthuse me, but the biggest draw for me is the memory of those writing sessions that have felt more like a meditation, when the words have come from the ether and the pen is fluid on the page. It’s such a good feeling, I can understand why so many writers are drawn to drink or drugs because I don’t think there’s anything else which compares to a good writing session. Scoring a goal in the FA Cup, perhaps? Winning a Formula One race? Possibly. But writing is always more personal than either of those.

Advice on creating that you’ve learned by trial and error.

Always be yourself! I spent a lot of my formative years trying to copy the styles and themes of other writers. But it is only when you discover your own voice that you can be truly comfortable. There is only one of you in existence.

What's your favorite underappreciated novel or short story (a work you never hear anyone else talking about)?

There are so many and then when asked, my mind goes completely blank, but here are a few. Dorothy Tse is a Hong Kong-based writer and her work is amazing, completely off the wall, very human, very funny. She has published two novels so far and I love them. Look out for Owlish. Talking of completely bonkers, Helen Oyeyemi is a British writer now based in Prague and her novels are similar out there, but also human, somewhat magical, but grounded in reality. Try Parasol Against the Axe. When I was much younger, I was a big fan of a Spanish writer called Juan Goytisolo, who was exiled to Morocco and wrote these amazingly labyrinthine books. Count Julian is a good place to start. I hardly see his work in book shops anymore, he must be out of favor. Will Self’s long short story Scale is very funny and showed me what writing can do. Look out for Rosalind Belben’s books, Dreaming of Dead People, for example, and not exactly underappreciated because he keeps coming up on lists for the Nobel Prize, but certainly not mainstream, is the wonderful Gerald Murnane.

Do you have a favorite book on writing or creating that's been a helpful resource?

The usual ones are Stephen King’s On Writing, of course, and lately two of my favorite writers, Will Self and Haruki Murakami, have just brought out books about writing and/or reading. As a resource, the best thing to do is read. I have a book called The Rough Guide to Modern Literature, which is always an inspiration just to flick through.

If you were a cryptid, what would your name be and what would you eat?

It would be the Neon Yak. About ten years ago I wrote a solo show called In the Glare of the Neon Yak, in which I invented this mythological creature, sight of which, glowing in the forest, is a harbinger of a change of fortune for whoever sees it. It was kind of based on the legend of Herne the Hunter, who was the local spook where I grew up near Windsor. Two years ago, I wrote a novel called The Neon Yak, about a young man growing up LGBT in the 1980s in the suburbs of London, who dreams of seeing the mythical beast. I would love to be that neon yak. What would I eat? Hmmm. Almond croissants.

What other lit journals are you into right now (and what do you like about them)?

On the day of the coronation of King Chas, I gave up alcohol. I decided that the money I would spend on wine, I would now spend on literary magazines. So, every week I buy one or two, usually the London Review of Books, or The New Yorker, or the TLS, or, if I’m feeling really exuberant, Granta. I like anything which challenges me. I must admit that I am not terribly bright, but it feels better to fill my head with words and writers and stories rather than Shiraz. You know what? I could just go a Shiraz right now.

Planes, trains, boats, or automobiles?

I don’t drive and I spend half my time on bloody trains. I thought I was OK on boats, living in a coastal town in Devon, but a few years ago I went to Australia and got a catamaran out to the Barrier Reef, and I was honking up like anything. Also, I try to catch a train to any country I go to, and in 2006 I went from one side of Canada to the other by train, it was a fantastic experience. But for me, oh yes, I’m definitely an aircraft man. Especially those little Dash 8 propeller planes that I used to catch up from Devon to Edinburgh each summer. I love flying. I think I’m an old-fashioned aviator at heart!

What’s your most recent “I was today years old when I realized …” moment?

I was in the supermarket the other day when I found this poor young man flailing his arms around and I thought he was having some kind of medical episode. But he was dancing and he’d put his mobile phone on a shelf. Apparently, it was for this thing they have now called TikTok. He was next to the cereal boxes.

One sentence soapbox: 

Why on earth do they make the writing on the arms of glasses so small, because there’s no way to read it without the glasses that you’re wearing, so that when you have your prescription changed and you want the same exact pair of glasses, and you look for the serial number, you can’t bloody read it. I tell you, that really gets my goat.

What is your writing strategy? Do you write every day with a rigid schedule, or are you more flexible with your practice?

On my day off I write every morning 10-1, and then again 4-6. When I’m working, I write 7-8 in the mornings and 7-8 at night. I’ve been using the same pen since 1995, (it’s a Parker fountain pen), and I write everything down on paper first before I type it up. I spend weekends at my mother’s house where she has an unused room in an outbuilding, so I can sit and write here, or rehearse. 

When did you realize you were weird?

I once did a gig with a teabag sellotaped to my forehead. I’ve also played a salad spinner, live on stage. I’ve put a Large Hadron Collider together using a bit of garden hose, on stage. I built a theremin out of cereal boxes and french loaves, again on stage. I think weirdness just creeps up on you.

Do you think about your reader?

Yes.

Are you good at taking tests?

I did OK in my exams when I resat them as a young adult. I’m not very good at blood pressure tests. I hate that thing that expands on your arm. That’s horrific. I always think of boa constrictors.

What was the best money you spent on something writing-related?

I know I’ve mentioned my Parker pen, but I love all fountain pens, and I bought a Kaweco piston pen which was about ten times more than I would normally pay for a pen, but I absolutely love it.

What is your favorite museum or gallery?

I love the Museum of Smoke Detectors, but every time I go there, I always get such a a bad neck. And that time when someone burned a toasted tea cake in the café when I was visiting almost deafened me. But yes, definitely worth a visit.

Most triumphant thing you did as a teenager?

It’s pretty gross.

What is weird?

Sure is.

What was the inspiration for your story?

I was staying at The Muv’s for the weekend, and we watched a documentary about the origins of Stonehenge, and the idea came for the story while I was sitting there, especially the part when they said that archaeologists had dug up thousands of pig bones from the feasts they used to have there, and I thought, wow, that meant that people would be traveling all the way to Stonehenge in prehistoric Britain with their pigs. And the idea just spiraled from there.

What do you hope readers experience from your work?

Mirth, whimsy, enlightenment, peaches tasting better, the stripping away of all doubt, a bit of a chuckle, a soupçon of ennui, and a sudden urge to Riverdance.

How do you combat loneliness?

I write stories. Which also might be the cause of my crushing loneliness. Hmm. It’s an endless spiral.

Thoughts about artichokes?

When I was a teenager, our college had a field trip to the French Alps, and we stayed in this out of season ski lodge in a small village near Chamonix. And the first night after we got there, they gave us chuffing artichokes. Artichokes! We’d just had a thirty-hour bus journey. Great, thanks for the artichokes. How do you even eat the damn things? Haven’t you got any chips? Flipping gross, I tell thee.

What’s the point of all this, really?

(Sigh). Kafka said that the only reason for life is that we die. He was never one to mince his words. Oi, Kafka, cheer up lad, might never happen. Seriously, I think we are all put here to teach the world the small talk of love. Or at least, have a damn good laugh.

Unpopular opinion, go: 

The most subversive writer at work today is Alan Bennett. Seriously. Look at the themes in his work. I know its all comfortable northern folk delivering one-liners, but underneath, he normalizes homosexuality in his work and talks about politics and life and death and all the big themes, but does so gently, whispering, quietly.

Robert’s short stories have been published widely in magazines such as Stand, Defenestration, Flash Fiction Magazine, Ink Sweat and Tears, and his poetry in Acumen, Tribe and the Broadsheet. In 2021 and 2022 he was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. He writes a humorous newspaper column in the Herald Express. He performs comedy poetry all over the UK at fringes, festivals and TV, and had one of the funniest one-liners of the 2018 Edinburgh Fringe. He was recently featured very briefly on Britain’s Got Talent. In 2024 he won the Wergle Flomp poetry competition. He has a phobia of sofas.