How did you become a writer? I suppose it was initially through the process of being a reader, and delighting in the conjuring power of words as a means of describing the world and, in various strange ways, supplementing it. I was lucky to be surrounded, as a kid, by books, and people who loved words, who would encourage me in my early efforts to produce stories and “books” of my own. Eventually, I ended up studying literature and writing, and combining both teaching and library work while I wrote. My path to the recent publication of my novel, Bright Objects, was a circuitous one, involving the abandonment of more than one previous fiction manuscript, a period of time retraining myself in short stories, and a fortunate competition win that led to a phone call with my agent, who picked up the new ms. I’d only just begun writing. So, I guess part of the story of how I became a writer was through a kind of irrational tenacity, which could also be seen simply as a love of the practice of writing that precludes the sense of its ever really having been a choice, which of course is hardly uncommon in the arts.
Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.). I think the most significant influences for me in becoming a writer were in place from when I was very young. I grew up among librarians and booksellers, and had a wonderful teacher in primary school who encouraged the whole class to view itself as a publishing company, with book launches and our own library of titles. I have vivid memories of my parents reading to me, and also of my dad and I taking it in turns to make up spoken installments of an epic witches and wizards saga. My dad in particular has always had a way with words, and was immensely creative in how he brought stories to life and taught me the magic of language and imagination. (I should say that my mum was similar in this, but I have fewer memories of her from that time as she was working full time.) When I was older, as I read more widely and began studying and practicing writing myself, there were many points of connection that led me further down the path. I recall a uni tutor in my first year of a creative arts degree, who really encouraged me in my writing at a pivotal point when I might otherwise have questioned myself. Some particular touchstones for me in terms of inspiration early on (among others) were Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson, The Glass Essay by Anne Carson, By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept by Elizabeth Smart, Holy the Firm by Annie Dillard, and Emily Dickinson in general. I was very preoccupied with lyricism, imagery, and detail on the level of the phrase/sentence/scene, for years, to the detriment of my understanding of broader narrative structure, pacing, and causality, which really weren’t much of a feature of my uni studies. So developing that understanding came later, through independent study and experimentation. Side note: I found Lisa Cron’s Story Genius to be brilliant, in the context of thinking technically about the psychology of traditionally satisfying narratives, although I’m also interested in more experimental forms.
When and where do you write? I usually write at home in my study, with some kind of ambient noise or music playing. In the past, I’ve often written in public spaces like cafes and libraries, though, with headphones on, which I often find helpful, perhaps because being surrounded by people alleviates some of the loneliness that writing can induce. I also love writing on the kind of long-distance trains that have tables—there’s something about being still in a capsule that’s speeding through the world that induces calm and comfort in me.
What are you working on now? A novel that explores questions of reputation, authenticity and obsession through the lenses of both the international art market and an unlikely female friendship.
Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? Periodically, I’ve experienced periods of feeling lost in my writing, and unable to work. This has always been due to either being in between projects and still searching for the right idea and form, or exhausted and occupied by some other aspect of life. The remedy for me tends to be time and space spent in silence, in addition to nature, art galleries, wide-ranging research, and instrumental music. And patience, of course, when I can manage it.
What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received? To deeply explore characterization, thematic architecture, and a vision of key points in a narrative before launching into the writing, while allowing for the inevitable and necessary surprises and changes along the way when the writing begins.
What’s your advice to new writers? I’ll share what I’d tell myself if I could travel back in time: Don’t assume that if you’re a literary writer, the best way for you to work is to “pants” it. Explore a variety of working methods and don’t assume that any one writer’s method, however passionately promoted, will work best for you. Nothing beats firsthand experience and experimentation. Don’t take anyone else’s word for it, or let the simplistic dichotomy of “pantsing v.s. plotting” lead you astray.
Ruby Todd is an Australian writer with a PhD in writing and literature. She is the recipient of the 2019 Ploughshares Emerging Writer's Contest award for Fiction and the inaugural 2020 Furphy Literary Award, among others. Shortlisted for the 2023 Victorian Premier's Unpublished Manuscript Award, her debut novel, Bright Objects, an "intoxicating...lyrical and inventive literary mystery" (Publisher's Weekly) is out now through Allen & Unwin (ANZ), and Simon & Schuster (US), and is forthcoming through Éditions Gallmeister (France).
Website: www.ruby-todd.com|
Substack: https://bookofhrs.substack.com
