David Keenan on writing & writers

The Skinny caught up with author David Keenan in a Glasgow bar to discuss his new novel This is Memorial Device, a hugely impressive debut whose subtitle neatly sums it up as: An Hallucinated Oral History of the Post-Punk Music Scene in Airdrie, Coatbridge and Environs 1978-1986. You can read an extract on the Faber & Faber blog here. Ahead of our full interview coming in the February issue, we treat you to David's passionate yet refreshingly down to earth literary tips.

The Skinny: So, is there anyone you would say you write like?

David Keenan: Well I’m obviously gonna say I don’t think I write like anyone because… I don’t! I certainly didn’t model my prose style on anyone, I can definitely say that.

How about David Foster Wallace, who you’re compared to for Memorial Device’s blurb?

I admire David Foster Wallace maybe more than I love him, he’s not one of my favourite writers. I do think Brief Interviews with Hideous Men is fantastic and I haven’t read Infinite Jest since it came out but I do really love it. But I’m not such a huge fan of Girl with Curious Hair or The Broom of the System or things like this. 

And who would you like to write like?

[Immediate response, like he can barely have heard the question and he’s already answering] Blaise Cendrars. He’s the sort of writer whose life spills on to the page and whose page spills out on to life. I’m in awe every time I read Blaise Cendrars, and I’ve re-read him quite a lot. He’s one of my absolute life and literature heroes. 

I’m also a huge, huge fan of Malcolm Lowry, Under the Volcano is one of my favourite books. I’m an obsessive Lowry fan in general. I’m not really aiming to write like anyone, though, I’m quite happy writing like I am. What I’m really saying is – when do I experience awe as a writer? When does my jaw drop? It’s probably when I read Blaise Cendrars’ Moravagine.

Anyone else?

Well I mean who wouldn’t want to write like Herman Melville.

[The Skinny and Keenan enjoy a moment of mutual beard appreciation, grateful to live in a hipster era where we can at least look a little bit like him.]

Also, a writer who I don’t think I write like but who I’ve come to have a very close psychic relationship with is William Burroughs. The Beats that meant most to me as a kid were definitely Kerouac and Ginsberg, the more Romantic, lyrical stuff, Bill was always a little bit cold. But it’s so strange the relationship I have with him, I’ve developed some kind of weird parallel psychic space.

What about the Scottish Beat, Alexander Trocchi?

I’m not a fan on any level. Can’t stand him [laughs gleefully]. I think he’s a crummy writer and I just find him kinda vaguely repellent. Terrible prose. Bad writer. Chancer.

And who would you not want to write like?

Well I’d hate to fucking write like Martin Amis [more gleeful laughter].

Amen.

But there’s no danger of that, I just don’t have it in me. I’d also really hate to write like – and it’s really a disease of modern literature – where you read a writer and they write the way creative writing courses tell you to write. You know, you write like a ‘Writer’ in inverted commas and it's ‘Writing’ in inverted commas. I hate writing that reads too much like literary writing. But that does not mean I don’t like avant-garde or high-brow or left field books. But I hate writing that reads too much like writing, I really do believe that writing at its absolute best is completely transparent.

This is Memorial Device will be your first published novel but not the first you’ve written, right?

I’ve written six novels at this point, Memorial Device was… maybe second or third, I can’t remember. What I did was I spent this period of almost ten years, from like my early thirties, just working solidly on novels. But not submitting them, just finishing one and then starting another. I set it up as a ritual for myself so I could know I was writing for the right reasons, and also just to get all the shit out of my system. I spent two years writing my first novel and then completely destroyed it. 

How completely?

I deleted the file and then the laptop died so I smashed it with a hammer.

Actually?

I can’t help think that the two years I spent writing a book that I destroyed was the key to making me a writer, to making me find my own voice. Two years of bullshit!

What’s your writing routine like?

I write early in the morning. I used to write late at night – the cliché – but I don’t like it any more so now I write as soon as I get up, for two hours before I do anything else, while you’re still in that slightly dreamy, unreal state. I love the long haul, the long project. I love working on something for years. I’m a compulsive writer: I spent ten years compulsively writing six novels.  I never have a day where I don’t write and I really enjoy it, it’s still my favourite thing to do.

Would you have any advice for aspiring writers?

I don’t think anyone who's being honest as a writer can really take full responsibility for their writing because it’s a complete mystery. And that’s why you always get nervous when you sit down, because you don’t know where it comes from or where it’s gonna end. So when you’re writing, just write! It’s as simple as sitting down and moving your fingers and the worst that’s gonna happen is you’re gonna delete it. But this is all hard won. This is ten years of writing every day and figuring out what works.