After the success of her award-winning novel Golden Boy, “a grippingly innovative” coming-of-age novel with a “radical non-binary, pro-intersex message,” Abigail Tarttelin is back to change the narrative on a popular genre with her latest novel, Dead Girls. This wildly smart novel flips the dead girl story on its head and focuses on the power and complexity of what it means to be a girl, female friendships, and the fear and protection that comes with living in a female body.

I spoke with Abigail via email where she discusses the influence of 90s culture, the satanic panic, her experience with ghosts, the commodification and territorial war of the female body, and on writing Dead Girls.

I'd love to know what initially sparked the idea for this story. Where there is so much media and literature about dead girls, why did you want to take on the topic in your own work?

My work usually stems from a character. Thera started to speak to me. It's the most personal book I've written, and a lot of her story comes from my own experiences—having friends as a child that adults call "imaginary", but you don't know where they come from; being confused over whether it's a good thing to be pretty or not, whether it makes you a target; running off into the fields at age eleven, not worrying about male predators, having confidence in your ability to deal with that, and then growing up and finding it harder than you ever thought it would be to circumnavigate the machinations of the male ego, to understand the ways you can be used.

I am more afraid now than I was at Thera's age, and I want to know why. Whether that fear is one of being attacked walking down the street at night or being in a relationship with someone who might seek to control you by gaslighting, it's something my friends and I all face. I wanted to access that lack of fear I had at eleven, and experience that power, both the good and the bad of it, the dark and the light.

Thera learns about responsibility and protection of her body and in her youthful curiosity, questions why she, a girl, has to be so vigilant over her body in ways boys do not. Can you speak to this a bit more? Was this important for you to include in a feminist novel?

Female bodies so often seem like a territory that is being fought over. They are used to sell something or to serve. Some suggest they incite and therefore are responsible for, sexual violence just by being seen. People on the street who comment on the appearances of women reflect media, magazines and beauty brands that comment on the appearance of women in order to make them feel undermined, so we will buy whatever they are selling. I really wanted Thera to be already engaged in that dialogue—in fact, she makes her entrance into it in the course of the book—about why so many people feel they have access to her body.

I was particularly intrigued by the use of ouija boards, automatic writing, and ghostly apparitions throughout the story. Why did you choose to have Thera guided by the spirit world? Do you have your own experiences with ghosts or the spirit world that inspired parts of the book?

The ouija board at the beginning of the book was actually something that happened, on my 13th birthday, Friday 13th October 2000. A black dog appeared, barking in the bush. We ran. I went back for my coat. I stood on the tree branch. I love it when an incident from real life can be wholly entered into a fictional narrative. I find it really fun, like a joke for anyone who was there. I never tell anyone; I just let them read it in their own time and find out. My friend Clark wrote to me last month to say, "WAIT. I'm Mr Childers and his dog Sally!"

Also... the satanic panic of the 80s had spooky repercussions throughout 90s culture, and I grew up on a steady drip of Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and various ghostly and ghoul-themed shows and books. It made sense to me that Thera would be scared of ghosts—as I was—and also try to speak to Billie's spirit.

There is a scene in the novel when Thera is at Billie's memorial, where she becomes frustrated that the adults keep talking about her like she is a sweet, innocent angel. Thera says "Billie wasn't an angel. She was a whole human being and she was my friend." Do you think the media typically portrays young girls this way—almost too innocent to be a fully formed human being?

Yes. I would love to hear from little girls on this. I think if we were all just a little more terrifying it couldn't hurt.

This novel is set in the '90s with pop culture references throughout, like the Spice Girls and Nano Pets. Why did you choose to have it set in the past? What do the 1990s mean to you?

I am committed to attempting to write the most authentic narratives I can. I couldn't write an adult novel about an eleven year old girl growing up today. Adult novels go in depth into the psyche and intimate experiences of the character and I feel like, although they may be similar, that psyche and those experiences today would be different enough to those of a girl growing up in 1999 that my writing would be inauthentic. I grew up in the 90s. I don't want to speak for girls growing up today. I want to encourage them to speak for themselves.

But there is another reason I think the 90s is such a relevant time to go back to and interrogate. I listen to this podcast, You're Wrong About..., which puts right our misconceptions about historical events. So much of the struggles we face now—western world leaders who behave in a dictatorial manner, a lack of regulation in the financial industries, the privileging of corporations and profit over individual humans and happiness—stem from decisions made by governments, and preceded cultural movements, in the 80s and 90s. From Margaret Thatcher's attack on the unions in the UK, through the satanic panic, to Ronald Reagan's conservative policies in the USA, we are all affected by our recent past.

Did you always know you wanted to be a writer? Can you speak a little about your writing journey?

No, I didn't always want to be a writer. I assumed writers were fifty-year-old men, and so I would become a writer when I was a fifty-year-old man. I originally wanted to be an actress, but I found I couldn't make enough money to survive and the roles I was being offered were degrading to women. I would still like to act in something I believed in.

I have always written, and it is something I do, like breathing, that comes naturally and is vital to my wellbeing. It's the way I process my thoughts and understand how to live in the world around me. It's how I carve out a piece of peace where I can be honest, playful, and happy. I couldn't live without it.

How long did it take you to write this book? What does your typical writing routine look like?

Dead Girls was an atypical novel to write, beginning with a huge redraft. I was shaken, recovering from PTSD, and had a hard journey to finding my voice. I'm so glad I went on it though. With the help of two wonderful editors, I got there in the end. At the time I barely knew what I created; I just put down the pen. Now when I read reviews or speak about it with book groups, I'm really proud of what it challenges and how it goes about doing that. Thera does not feel like my creation. She feels like a small and beautiful demon I encouraged at all the moments society would not have.

My typical writing routine now is very different to how it was developing Dead Girls. I have a desk which I love to work at, and when I'm starting a novel, I just like to play, and let my hands write whatever they like. It's really fun beginning a novel, and I also really enjoy the editing process, getting lost in the world of the book for a day, sculpting it into what I hope it can be. I always think it must be so like making a pot out of clay! I'll have to try that one day and check if the analogy is right!

Are you working on anything new?

My fourth novel, currently titled Welcome Home, Bailey Collins, is set in the Britain we rarely see, where poverty lives and Brexit breeds. The novel explores working class male masculinity, the prison system, mental health, and whether who we are is set from the start, or the product of our surroundings. And you're the first to know, Kailey! It's at the editing stage, so I'm excited that it's almost ready to be shared. Thank you so much for your interest in my writing, and a big, warm, fiercely feminist hug of sisterhood to your readers.

Abigail Tarttelin is the award-winning author of Golden Boy, “a grippingly innovative” coming-of-age novel with a “radical non-binary, pro-intersex message” (Autostraddle). Golden Boy is the winner of an Alex Award from the American Library Association, a LAMBDA Literary Award Finalist for Best LGBT Debut, a Booklist Top Ten First Novel of 2013, a School Library Journal Best Book of 2013, and is published in eight languages. Abigail’s debut Flick explores masculinity in northern England.

Her 2019 novel Dead Girls, out October 15th from Rare Bird Books, drills down through “layers of moral and cultural norms” to offer “a strong indictment of cultural and narrative scripts that permeate our society” (Hackney Citizen). Her journalism has appeared in The Guardian, The Independent, Glamour, Phoenix, Oh Comely, and The Huffington Post. Also a screenwriter, in 2016 Abigail served as a juror for the British Independent Film Awards. She is the recipient of awards from The Authors Foundation and The K Blundell Trust in Great Britain.