Set in the Melbourne queer scene, the setting in Our New Gods is vivid and immersive. What is your approach to crafting setting—do you work from memory and imagination, or do you write as you experience place?
Yeah, it’s both. It’s a mix. Of course, as a writer, you’re inventing to meet the demands of story. But also, and especially with this book, which is set in Melbourne—and I live in Melbourne—I’m drawing upon experiences of place to honour truth. As an example, there’s a scene in the book that’s set in the street party that happens once a year for Midsumma [Festival] in Collingwood. I wrote that scene remembering the party. A year rolls around. I’m back at the party. I’m looking around like, oh, this is so much more hectic than how I remember it. So, then as I was redrafting, I was trying to bring in that energy to get closer to the truth of that experience.
How do you want your reader to feel after reading Our New Gods?
There’s an experience that I want the reader to have through the journey of the book, which is connected to feeling unsettled, being thrilled, chilled and shaken. And that leads you on a psychological experience into the darker parts of the psyche. But then once the book is over, like, honey, sorry, but you’re on your own! Like, what you do with that is up to you. I want people to have a personal response to it. For me, that would be like success.
You can pick up a copy of Our New Gods at your local bookstore today.
