Ask the Author: Holly Dawson

Holly Dawson is featured in our most recent special issue. She talks with us about fixing bodies, doll repair, feral gnomes and other matters.

1. What things do you often lose in tunnels?

I should be careful how I answer this, in case any Freudians are reading! Most of my travel is for work, so the thing I lose most often in tunnels is phone reception – and all those missed words the other person keeps saying before realising you’ve gone. Somewhere on the roof of all these tunnels are thousands of sentences. Mainly boring ones, like “Hello? Hello? Oh she must be in a tunnel”.

2. How do you fend off a feral gnome?

The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Gnomes advocates a Gnomish-speaking negotiator…but everyone knows an irate gnome is a hard nut to crack. I usually find some nettles, a spade, strong parcel tape and some old tuna tins does the trick.

3. Where would you work in a doll hospital?

Probably the geriatric ward, for dolls beyond repair. The ones that would have been heirlooms if they hadn’t been puked on, weed on, bitten to shreds and been flushed down the toilet by several generations. Come to think of it, there’d be a lot of counselling involved.

4. How would you fix your body?

I’d like another couple of pairs of hands that faced the other way, so I could always be writing stories behind my back. So I guess that would also entail some sort of fold-down writing desk being welded to my coxis. That sounds like the worst super-hero, doesn’t it? CatWoman…WonderWoman…that one from X-Men….’WriterWoman’…

5. What made you write “The Things We Lose In Tunnels”?

I find the morality of survivor-status a very rich furrow to plough. There seems to be a blanket virtuousness attached to survivors of traumatic events – tragedy as baptism. We imagine, or hope, that people would always be humbled and ‘changed’ by such experiences. So I wanted to see what happened with a character who was rather unlikeable and exploited the experience for her own gain. It was a natural choice to make Claire a journalist, as I read at the time about a reporter fabricating their experience. The ‘magpie’ relationship between the media and events like 7/7 is deeply unsettling – this blurring of the personal and public. In fact, I have to confess I am still really uncomfortable with this story being read publicly, as I too am ‘stealing’ people’s experiences and I don’t feel good about that. But I do have a personal connection to 7/7 and this story was written with the utmost respect for all involved.

6. How does running a reading series influence your writing?

I help run a live lit night in Brighton called Story Studio, which has really influenced my writing. I used to have quite a traditional style – third person past tense, lots of poetic language. But performing some of those stories can be like trying to talk chewing toffee. I’ve shifted more into first person, present tense, dropped the language obsession, made plots more immediate, and even tried injecting some humour. Reading aloud changes everything. Most importantly, I’m learning from hearing so many fantastic stories. I always come away feeling fired up and inspired, and pretty humbled. I’m right at the beginning – I’ve still got a heck of a way to go.