Fiction Spotlight: Interview with Charlotte Guest

Charlotte Guest,  author of our July Fiction selection, “Lohmelle,” discusses writing about Australia, persisting through rejection and weaving in elements of the speculative.

Can you talk a little bit about where your idea from this story originated? What sparked the idea? Or is it something that you had been thinking about for a while?

I don’t live in the same state as my parents. They’re in Western Australia and I’m in Victoria, and so during the pandemic we were unable to see each other while the borders were closed. My husband and I live south of Melbourne, which (just to give you an idea) became the most locked-down city in the world. My parents are in their late seventies and prefer to speak on the landline phone rather than attempt video calls. So it was about eighteen months into the pandemic when I realised I hadn’t seen their faces in all that time. Then a friend of mine suffered a great loss, and over the months and years that followed she talked about the huge toll grief had taken on her body. She looked different. It had changed her. And so I started to think about what might happen if the travel restrictions dragged on and I was unable to see my parents’ faces for a long time, and how that process may be exacerbated by grief. I was interested in that uncanny feeling of knowing someone so intimately without having a clear sense of what they look like. 

Tell us a little bit about the process – how long did it take you to write the story? What was revision like?

The first draft of Lohmelle took me about a week to write, but then I put it away for some months before taking it back out to revise. As a reader, I enjoy stories that tap into the strangeness of ordinary encounters, even under extraordinary circumstances. So I concentrated on an exchange between the narrator and the woman sitting next to her on the flight to Western Australia. Our protagonist is so nervous about not being able to recognise her own mother when she arrives in Perth that she strikes up an awkward and deceitful conversation with her neighbour as a distraction. The rest of the story grew around this central scene, which I rewrote four or five times to get the tone and humour right. I really believe in the power of revision to polish a scene and make it shine. 

You weave in a speculative element so seamlessly into the work. Can you talk about how it came about and how you were able to blend it into the story?

A few of my stories have been described as speculative, which I find really interesting because I never write them with this genre categorisation in mind. I usually either take a scenario and dial up the stakes in order to see what happens, or I begin with a question and ask myself, “how can this inquiry be answered in a way that is both satisfying and surprising?” 

What do you do when you feel stuck in your writing? How do you work through blocks?

I find that my thoughts loosen up when I’m moving, so I either go for a long drive or a walk in the bush. In Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott talks about going for hikes with an index card and a pen in her back pocket because ideas would strike when she was away from her typewriter. I love this idea, and it’s one that many writers recommend. There is something about the body in motion that stimulates the mind. Otherwise, I like to read something totally unlike what I’m trying to write in order to refresh any habitual thinking I harbour around how writing works and what it can do. Talking out particular plot points or the mechanics of a scene with my husband—who reads almost exclusively manga and science fiction, two genres I don’t work within—is also incredibly helpful. He has a tendency to see things differently and will prompt me to consider how a problem-area in my writing can be approached from another angle. 

How did you know you were done with your piece? And when did you feel ready to submit it?

Once I’ve finished the second or third draft of a story or essay, I tend to put the piece away and not look at it for a long time. Usually for a couple of months, sometimes up to a year. It needs to have completely left my mind before I return to it for revisions. This is so that I am able to experience it as a reader and not the writer. Allowing myself to forget what I was trying to achieve, or how exactly I built the story, often enables me to see it afresh and decide if it resonates with my readerly self. I also really listen to editors and approach this part of the process as a collaboration, which I find always enriches the work. 

If you could give writers one piece of encouragement or advice, what would it be?

Persist. Persevere. Rejection is a central and necessary part of a writer’s life. It’s unavoidable. I once read an article by an Australian writer I really love who said that in one year she submitted to over sixty opportunities and was accepted for seven. Seven. Just to emphasise the point, that’s at least fifty three rejections. Of course, from the outside we only see those seven incredible stories or think pieces or poems. And perhaps there is a tendency to assume that in a single year, that extraordinary writer wrote seven creative works, submitted them to seven publications and was accepted seven times. Because, of course. Because she’s brilliant! But, for most, that simply isn’t how it works. Rejection is commonplace and, after the initial sting, can often teach us something about how to improve our writing. Some of the best editorial advice I’ve received has come from generous rejections. I can’t remember who said this, but I tend to subscribe to the formula that you have one day to sulk and stomp and moan—one day—and then you need to get on with it. Do the work. Write.

Charlotte Guest is a writer and bookseller based in Victoria, Australia. Her fiction and poetry has been published in literary journals and been shortlisted for several literary prizes. In 2023 she completed her doctorate in creative writing at Deakin University. When she’s not writing, Charlotte manages an independent bookstore and hosts interviews at literary festivals. She is currently working on her first novel.