In Conversation with Becky Connolly
SYLVIE: I think I’ll start in a way I haven’t started an interview before, which is to note that you have consistently studied creative writing throughout your degree.
BECKY: I have.
SL: So, I assume you did the Introduction to Creative Writing module in first year…
BC: Yes.
SL: …and I know you did the Building a Story module in second year, and now you’re doing your creative dissertation, so I would like to know how that has overlapped with your personal interest in creative writing — ways in which it’s helped, perhaps —
BC: I mean, the creative writing modules here at Exeter were one reason why I chose Exeter over other universities. I’ve loved creative writing for a very long time, and I wanted to be challenged in a way that I hadn’t been in traditional education up to this point. I think it has completely transformed the way I write. There’s so many things it teaches you; you encounter things you wouldn’t have otherwise. My story, “A Metamorphosis”, came from one of those modules. You’re also being taught by experts in their field, and you’re getting to show them your work, and have them make you a better writer and editor — all of these things. So, it was always something very important to me, and very important for me to have in my education. It’s something I have such a huge passion about, so it’s so cool that I get to do that as part of my degree. It’s very exciting.
SL: That’s a nice ad there for doing creative writing at Exeter.
BC: Yeah, you’re welcome!
(both laugh)
BC: Sponsor me!
SL: So, the next question is one I love asking, because I get so many great reading recommendations, and people often surprise me with their answers… What are you laughing at?
BC: I know what you’re going to ask.
SL: I’m just going to ask about your influences!
BC: You’re not going to get any reading ideas from this.
SL: Why not?
BC: The reason I’m laughing is that one of my major influences as a writer is actually Virginia Woolf. You’ll be proud to hear it.
SL: We love to hear it.
BC: …because while I was reading The Waves in first year, it just completely transformed how I viewed literature and the whole interiority aspect of it. It’s like it just clicked. My short stories aren’t like The Waves, they’re not that interior, but it did change the way I began to develop my characters and stories from an interior aspect, and then moving outwards. So definitely Virginia Woolf. And also Maggie O'Farrell, at the minute—
SL: Lovely.
BC: I just think that the way she describes the world is so beautiful, and the way she interacts — and her characters interact — with the world around them, that’s how I enjoy writing. So I would say those two.
SL: Hamnet’s a really good one. I ended up talking about that in the blog we were assigned to write for the Building a Story module, because I wrote a story about a Victorian production of a Shakespeare play, so I was drawing on those two historical contexts. What I love about O’Farrell’s writing is how she describes things very much through peculiar detail—
BC: She does.
SL: — and also taking who we might think of as these ghostly, half-real figures of the past and turns them into actual people.
BC: Yes.
SL: But at the same time, in Hamnet, I feel like Shakespeare exists as an absence.
BC: Because he would normally take the forefront of everything and it would’ve detracted from the other characters if he’d been on the same level as them.
SL: I also feel like it’s very hard to write about Shakespeare as a person because we don’t really know — our cultural perception must have undergone so many distortions. But with Agnes Hathaway — in a way it’s because we know less about her, so we can invent her more.
BC: I think what was also so interesting about that — I’ve read an interview with Maggie O’Farrell recently — and all we know of Agnes are these completely negative ideas about her, and in Hamnet O’Farrell has this opportunity to rebuild her, and take certain things about Agnes and twist it. I think that’s so important, especially when trying to go about it in a realistic way. Another influence I’ll mention, for building character specifically, is Liane Moriarty. Less specifically for the short story I’ve had published with ENIGMA, but in other stories I’ve written, I’ve definitely taken inspiration from how she writes characters.
SL: Do you have any writing habits?
BC: I’d say I lean more to the spontaneous side, but I am someone who just ruminates and thinks. I often come up with ideas when I’m on walks; I like ideas to germinate. I’m also a mind-mapper, so I’ll have an idea or character, and I’ll mind-map ideas off of that, and then mind-map off that, and off that, and that’s completely how I did it for this story. I’d have images I’d want in it that would go bigger and bigger. So those two are my favourite things. I’ve got into the habit of, when I’m walking, not to listen to music, and just listen to the world around me. Because there’s so much inspiration when you’re in tune with the world, when you’re paying attention to the noises of the world. You’re more aware of everything; you pay attention to the small things, and in writing I love paying attention to the small small things.
SL: Nice. I love that you’re a mind-mapper.
(both laugh)
SL: It made me think of… you know that scene in Sex Education, with Aimee and mind maps?
BC: No (laughs). I will have seen it, but it’s not coming to my mind.
SL: She uses a mind map to help Maeve decide whether to break up with Jackson via pros and cons.
BC: I’ve done that before!
(both laugh)
SL: I also try to not listen to music all the time, which is difficult, because I feel like I can be a bit addicted to having my headphones in all the time. There are times when that makes me feel nice and grounded, particularly when I’m studying — and I do love music in general; I’m not trying to shut it out. But I feel like when I’m walking, I just find myself getting annoyed and constantly skipping songs and nothing feeling quite right. At that point it’s a much better idea for me to just tune out and tune in to the literal world. I have had moments, similarly, of thinking: that could be in a poem, or: that could be in a short story, just from the world being very mundane but quietly beautiful.
BC: Exactly. And you never know what it might be that might inspire something. And of course I’m not opposed to music; I love it while I’m studying also. But I think while I’m walking in particular, it’s nice to give your head space. For me, just listening to the world around me, that’s when the characters and ideas — that’s when it all comes through.
SL: I’d like to ask about your experience of being on the Creative Writing Society committee, whether you’d like to talk about your role, or events you’ve been to or workshops you’ve run or enjoyed attending, any spoken word or sharing sessions that, again, might have served as a form of inspiration, and kept you in touch with a creative committee routinely.
BC: In terms of keeping with a creative routine, the workshops, whether you’re running them or attending other people’s, have been massively helpful, because it’s a place where it’s just you and your writing. Going to those workshops, you get a bunch of random ideas, and sometimes you’ll do them and then go on to write other things, but sometimes it’ll produce new ideas, or latch onto an idea you already have, so they’re great. The spoken word event we had — that was so inspiring because of how different everyone’s writing was — whether it was poetry or prose, and being around like-minded people; it does inspire you more. And running those workshops, it’s kept me in touch certainly with the skills that you need, and being more aware. It’s been great fun.
SL: Is there a particular workshop where the subject matter really struck you, or spoke to your interests?
BC: Yes… it was the one you ran with Anna…
SL: Oh, yeah. She did hers about world-building in stories, I think, while I did mine on odd specificity in poetry.
BC: Yeah, both parts of that resonated with my really clearly. So, you showed us that Sylvia Plath poem, and you asked us to write about a relationship without actually defining who these people are — such as writing about family without using the word family. I like to be very descriptive in my writing, so that channelled that a lot. And the same with Anna’s side of the workshop, that really got our gears going; she had a beautiful extract that I’ve since gotten her to send me—
SL: She did a Sarah Waters extract. I’ve been meaning to read her for a while.
BC: Yeah. Another workshop I liked was my one where we described an urn (laughs).
SL: I loved that workshop.
BC: What was that even about?
SL: Wasn’t it on building atmosphere?
BC: It was. That’s a big thing in my writing. And it was lovely to hear people’s examples.
SL: I’d like to move on to the story you’ve had published with ENIGMA. So, I know, because we were in the same seminar last year, that this was constructed under the watchful eye of John Clarke.
(both laugh)
BC: Yes.
SL: Firstly, I’d like to know your initial thought process behind it.
BC: It came about… the perfect storm, really. “A Metamorphosis” describes a reverse-chrysalis transition — so, a butterfly back into a caterpillar, and it’s a physical representation of my experience on the pill. At the time that I came up with it and wrote it, I was going through that, and realised that it was the pill causing all of these things. It’s a very personal thing. What triggered it initially was that I was trying to explain to someone how I felt, and I said to them that I used to be a social butterfly, but now — and I didn’t say ‘but now I feel like a caterpillar’ — I said ‘but now I feel like a blob’.
SL: It would be a bit weird if you said ‘but now I feel like a caterpillar.’
(both laugh)
BC: No, so I said I felt like a blob. And the next week, we had to do an animal transformation story for the module, and it just merged together. It just happened at the same time. When I came up with it, I thought, actually, this could be the perfect way to express it. Because the pill is such a normalised thing. It was the perfect way to demonstrate how I felt. As for the process of editing, it involved a lot of mind maps.
(Sylvie laughs)
BC: The structure came about because I wanted it to be a clear comparison; I didn’t want it to be something where it could be blamed on a change in environment, or something like that. So it was very clear to me. The character… I wanted her to be someone at an exciting stage of her life… someone happy and successful. Obviously sixth form can be stressful, but you’re also looking forward to university; so much is changing. And I wanted to make her head girl—
SL: Were you head girl?
BC: Deputy!
(both laugh)
BC: She’s more successful than me! So, having her be in a good place was really to show that it can happen to anyone. As for the revision process… the first draft was completely different. I found it this morning, actually. It was so different. I got rid of speech marks for the dialogue in the final version, to make it more internal, but the first draft was far more conversational. That didn’t fit right, so I went through a whole process of fitting it to the voice I needed it to be and make the story clear.
SL: I really like the idea of wanting to further internalise the voices. It’s as though the text is trying to put itself into a chrysalis. There are no outer voices; there’s this complete sense of encasement.
BC: Yeah!
SL: Also it’s such an important topic to bring awareness to. It’s very important to voice experiences that are considered not the ‘default’, or abnormal, because they don’t happen to cis men. There is not nearly enough funding for research surrounding medical issues that predominantly affect women, or anyone outside of traditional understandings of gender. I’ve read about this for a while because it’s central to my academic interests, but there are so many quotes from modern day doctors, where they genuinely admit that they have no idea the full extent of the pill’s negative impacts on mental health. They just don’t know how much of a depressant it is because adequate research hasn’t been done.
BC: And the thing is, it could’ve been so easily prevented if they’d just asked me if I had a history with mental health before I agreed to take it. I felt so alone at first, because it felt like nobody was talking about it. Then I found this Instagram page, called Make the Pill Safer, dedicated to sharing people’s stories and they’ve sent petitions to the government before. That was the first thing I found to do with it, and it made me very passionate about it, because this was something I’d been put on after a very short phone call. And I’d tried to talk to doctors about it, but they’d just said ‘Oh, no. It might settle down; it’ll settle down’. But it just wasn’t okay. And it’s so ironic, because it’s supposed to be an effort to control your body, but I just felt like I lost complete control.
SL: And you should have the information that you need to make that decision. It’s very harmful that it’s not established yet, to make an informed decision.
BC: It’s not established and it’s completely normalised. I have friends who have had no idea why they’ve lost a bit of colour, until they come off it, and realise they’re seeing the world completely differently. Because the change can be quite subtle. It was a very important story to me, so I’m glad I could channel that.
SL: And you’ve had such a great response to it, too, which I think is amazing. I’ve spoken to other people casually who’ll bring up that they’ve read your story and loved it.
BC: That makes my heart warm.
SL: It’s received so much praise and it absolutely deserves it. I also wondered about the influence of our seminar group’s comments on the story during second year, and whether the draft you had then differs to the version you sent in to ENIGMA and talked to an editor.
BC: Before I submitted it to ENIGMA I went through our old document from second year.
SL: Nice.
BC: But the main comment I got from everyone at first was to draw out the transformation more, which really helped with the structure.
SL: I loved how that seminar group helped us to treat creative writing as something connected and social; I loved hearing other people’s perspectives on what I’d written and learning from them.
BC: You do learn so much from other people’s strengths as well; those modules definitely help you to become more of a critical writer.
SL: I’m just looking at the beginning of your story now, and something I’m noticing is that I love the description of the light as sliced diamonds, and the reason I love it… this brings us back to something we’ve talked about before… but it’s because, in the italicised passages of The Waves, light is described in terms of shapes — I think as slices in particular, too. I think it’s such a lovely image. I like it because it makes it sound like a painting, which you also achieve here. Is there a reason you decided to start it with light.
BC: Yes! So, the reason I decided to start it with light was because of the idea of infinite opportunity, and reflecting on how she feels lighter at the beginning — whereas the desire to cocoon herself blurs with the desire for darkness. It was a clear contrast that I could get between the before and after. I love admiring light too, like at the bottom of a pool. But yes, it was about structural contrast.
SL: I’ll finish asking about the end of the story. I had noticed the lack of quote marks, when reading it. Obviously, you’re told about the comments people are making about her, and they appear to be these highly socially conditioned opinions. I wondered what you think it adds to include this ambiguity to their voices — that they’re external voices, and yet they also appear to be in her head.
BC: It is literally that. In that, you hear those things in actual reality… When I wrote those lines, I could hear them. But also they represent a self-conscious type of anxiety. I’d say it represents the cycle of someone making a comment like that, and then the individual internalising it. It was really important to me to juxtapose the flippant comment of ‘oh, lordy, she’s hormonal,’ contrasting the intense change that’s actually taking place, but goes unseen.