Robbie, thank you again for putting together such a magnificent tale. The depths you’ve dived into from Flames to Dusk have been tremendous. As an early fan of your work, it was clear to me the importance of creating a wonderous environment, a sense of adventure, that took the reader a step outside of reality. How do you approach the ideas of, and writing on, the cusp of reality?
Thanks so much! I try to avoid thinking about reality as much as I can. What matters to me is that the world of a novel feels real, even if we know that it’s not. I try to make every part of a book feel textured, complicated and tangible, whether it’s a puma in the antipodes or a boy restoring a boat. When it comes to narrative, the major test I do is not whether it’s believable, but whether I want to believe it. I think that’s more important than sticking to the rules of reality. I don’t think that’s what novels are for.
Dusk is a story filled with hardened characters and landscapes. How much of your process goes towards balancing these personalities, are you starting from a place of emotion that slowly unfolds the characters and plot?
You’re pretty much spot on. I start with environment, then I hunt around for characters that fit that environment, then I find their personalities and voices, and after all that comes the narrative. With Dusk, it made sense to me to have these weary, tough characters, because that was what fit the landscape and world around them.
The respect and care you have for our climate, its animals and landscape, is clear. Have you found since writing about the environment that your relationship with it has evolved?
Maybe? Although I’m not sure if it’s because writing novels has led me to think more about climate and environment, or if because during that time the climate crisis has worsened. I think it’s both. Mostly I’m more anxious and furious about everything that’s happening than I was a few years ago. And more determined, I suppose, to try and do something about it. There are real ways we can help preserve and protect our wild places. Look at Tim Winton and Ningaloo. Look at the restoration of Tasmania’s kelp forests. This race isn’t run.
Further on writing, what’s your ideal writing day?
I have two dedicated writing days a week. If I’m really lucky and things are ideal — which is rare — it might look like this.
- My daughter sleeps soundly through the night and happily eats her breakfast before I drop her at daycare and my wife at work.
- I work on a novel from around 8:30 – 1, then I go for a walk or run around Knocklofty Reserve, where I try and figure out all the problems I’ve made for myself with the writing.
- I have some version of a healthy lunch, write for another hour or so, read for an hour or so, then go pick my daughter up. Then I spend the rest of the afternoon playing with her, then my wife gets home, and its family time, dinner, bed, etc.
Realistically, this day is more likely to involve a bit more tiredness, less productivity, something going haywire, and at least one trip to the corner store for some hot chips with chicken salt. But we can dream.
Lastly, we loved to hear that you were a bookseller! What were some of your go-to recommendations and why?
I was a bookseller for nearly seven years, and like all booksellers, I definitely had a few go-to recommendations up my sleeve. For fifty-something men who liked history, it was Bill Gammage’s ‘The Biggest Estate on Earth.’ For uni students, it was ‘Kitchen’ by Banana Yoshimoto or ‘Leaving the Atocha Station’ by Ben Lerner. For crime fans, it was almost always ‘The Broken Shore’ by Peter Temple. And for book club recommendations, I had a lot of success convincing people who say they don’t like short stories to read ‘Heart Songs’ by Annie Proulx.
Thank you so much for your time, Robbie. We can’t wait for Dusk to hit our shelves!