So reads the blurb for Sushi Central, the debut novel of Alasdair Duncan. Not many writers have their first novel published while they're in their early twenties, fewer still by the same company that published Peter Carey. Which explains much of the hype and the hipness surrounding the young author at the moment. Geoff Parkes wanted to cut through that crap, to find out what drove the cocky Brisbanite to spill his literary guts, so he sent some provocative questions via e-mail. Alasdair bit back.
To paraphrase Regurgitator, how much cock did you have to suck to get where you are? A: Is the whole interview going to be like this? I read in an interview where you described the writing of Sushi Central was fairly quick. Was that deliberate, in terms of suiting your approach to writing, or we you cranked on Benzedrine like Jack Kerouac? Ah, a real question. Lots of people have asked me if I write on drugs - hardly surprising I guess, considering the subject matter of the book - but in actual fact, drugs and me don't really mix so I pretty much steer clear of them. (The strongest thing I'm ever on when I'm writing is coffee). The real reason that Sushi Central was written so quickly was because the main character's voice came through so strongly, and I wanted to capture Calvin before I lost him. The common thread between all of my favourite books is that they have characters with strong voices - what I love about writers like Bret Easton Ellis, Donna Tartt, Jeffrey Eugeneides, is that they when you're reading their work, it feels as though the characters are right there with you, telling you their stories. It was like that with Calvin - he's the ultimate spoiled, indulged brat, and when I was writing as him, I felt free to let myself go a bit and as a result, the writing process ended up being a lot of fun. That's a very wordy answer to a very simple question, but you get the idea. I pick up your book and see it's about gay guys and drugs. Tell me why I would want to read it, what I could gain from it? A: Ahha! I guess that first and foremost, I wanted to entertain people - hopefully anybody who picks up Sushi Central will find the book fun, and find the stuff that Calvin gets up to exciting and maybe a little challenging as well. I guess the book also gives insight into a world that a lot of people may not recognise or have experienced - in that respect, I guess it might also open people's eyes, which would be a good thing - but I don't really like to introduce that political aspect, as I really don't see myself as the 'crusading gay author' or whatever. I guess I just wanted to do something fun - to write the kind of book that I'd want to read. In your acknowledgments section, you thanked some well-known and published writers for their help - how did these people assist in getting you published and how do you recommend writers who don't have those connections go about making it like you have? A: I guess all the connections I've made over the last couple of years have been as a result of my writing - either through school and uni or competitions I've entered. Moses Aaron - the children's author - came to my old school as part of a mentoring program for young writers. I ended up skipping a lot of classes and hanging out with him so we could talk about writing, which was fun, but it was also good to get an honest opinion of my work. I was 16 or so and writing a lot of crazy stuff that I wasn't quite game enough to show to people, but I was able to show it to Moses, which gave me a lot more confidence in it. There's also Nick Earls - a truly awesome guy who gives up a lot of his time to mentor young writers around Brisbane. He was the chief judge of a short story competition I entered back in 2001. My entry was a story called Love - it went into some fairly dark territory, in a lot of ways it was kind of a blueprint for Sushi Central - and there were certain people who weren't entirely comfortable with it. However, Nick pushed for my story and it ended up winning the competition, after which we stayed in touch. He's offered me a lot of support and advice, which has been invaluable. Then there's Venero Armanno, who was the lecturer in my creative writing course at UQ. Once again, he's offered a lot of support and encouragement, and I guess it sounds trite but it really is good to know that there are people you can talk to. As far as the actual process of getting published - I sent my manuscript into the Queensland Premier's Literary awards. They have a category for unpublished novels, one of the only competitions in Australia that does. It's good because it's judged by people in the industry and it allows you to get your work out there and get it noticed. The main character Calvin is an upper-middle class snotty prick to his parents and to ex-fucks. Did you ever want to slap him while you were telling his story? Calvin's a pretty self-obsessed, slutty kind of guy. Why should readers like him? What do you think will make readers care about him? A: That's funny you should say that, as a friend of mine read the book and said something similar, along the lines of: 'Calvin's problem is that he never gets the talking-to he so richly deserves.' I think it's definitely true that he's a spoiled brat, but that's what makes him interesting (and in some ways, endearing). I'm always harping on about Bret Easton Ellis - his books are probably the reason I wanted to be a writer - but one of the things I like most about his writing is that his characters are so unapologetically shallow and NASTY. I think Calvin is the kind of character you love to hate because of his snottiness and elitism. However, that being said, I think there are more elements to his character - underneath, he's actually very lost and frightened, so a lot of what he does is posturing and bravado. I think this adds some depth to his character, and I don't think he's irredeemable - I guess he just needs to grow up.
A: That's sort of a loaded question. I didn't write Sushi Central with an agenda or with the intention of carrying on any traditions, I wrote it because the story and the characters meant something to me. The gay themes in the book are what a lot of people talk about, but to me that aspect is pretty much incidental - to me it's just a story about being young and confused and that's pretty much that. That being said, I admire Cooper in the same way I admire all great writers. I think he's brave for breaking down all of the boundaries he has, but at the end of the day, you can be a revolutionary and still be a bad writer. I admire him most for his talent with words, his sense of humour and his ability to make poignant insights into the human spirit. I think I owe a debt to him in the sense that he inspired me. I've always thought Burroughs was kind of a poseur, but I could crap on about that for ages so I'll stop now before I start to rant. Now that you've exploited your youth for all it's worth (said with a grin, relating to both topic of book and marketing of you as an author) what will you write about next? A: I'm not really hung upon the 'young writer' thing, any more than I am on the idea of being a 'gay writer'. I just want to be a writer - I think that in the media's response to Sushi Central, 'young' and 'gay' were the most obvious tags, so they were the ones that stuck. The book I'm working on at the moment is about university students and the whole idea of student life in Brisbane. After that's finished, I really don't know, just that I'd like to keep writing. The world of literature and media is filled to the brim with decrepit, syphilitic fucks who will suck you dry, given half a chance, and then spit you out like an olive pip as they turn to devour the next big piece of fresh flesh. How are you coping with their attention, and what kind of plans do you have to avoid these kinds of perils? A: I think I'm pretty lucky to have the family and friends I do - we're really close and I guess I always have people to turn to if things get difficult. My family are really cool - unlike the family in the book - and they're really happy with everything that's happened. Ditto my friends. They're one of the most important things to me. I'm also lucky to have landed at UQ Press - they have great relationships with their authors as well as an eye to developing authors over the long term, and it's good to know I have them behind me. In terms of avoiding the perils, I guess I have the ability to stay level-headed about certain things - I also know my limits and I can tell people when to fuck off if they go too far. I was at a festival in Adelaide not long ago, and for various reasons I wound up on a panel discussion on the topic of 'sex' - the event took a couple of unpleasant turns, and I felt really uncomfortable and sort of exposed with the questions that were being asked, so I essentially said to them 'fuck you, you don't put me in this kind of a position' and left. (Not to sound like the snotty literary brat, I just think you have to know your limits and have an idea of what you're prepared and not prepared to do). Whilst Alasdair and I might disagree on many points, it's clear he's forthright, brave and articulate, something often lacking in the literary world. Published by UQ Press, Sushi Central is available now. You can read my review of Sushi Central for the Journal of Australian Studies Book Review here.
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"Go out. Take a pill. Meet a boy. Dance. Recover. Repeat."
William Burroughs, Dennis Cooper, et al all wrote about queer
boys, drugs and music from the 60s through to now. What kind
of debt do you feel you owe to writers who have explored and
opened up for exploration the topics you cover in Sushi
Central?