Sophie Parkes’ Shelf Life
Sophie Parkes is a writer of novels, short fiction, life writing and music journalism. A graduate of the University of Manchester and Manchester Metropolitan University, she also holds a doctorate in creative writing and folklore from Sheffield Hallam University. Her debut novel, Out of Human Sight, was shortlisted for the NorthBound Book Award at the 2021 Northern Writers' Awards. She is an Associate Lecturer in Creative Writing at Sheffield Hallam and Leeds Arts universities.
How and where are you?
I am nursing an enduring cold in our cellar, but I am chipper nonetheless. My desk sits in our cellar so I am down here most days. Currently the surrounding bookshelves are in disarray, and there are bagged-up books in an ever-growing charity shop pile on the sofabed. It's not a good look and I really need to get a handle on it.
What are you reading at the moment?
I have recently started teaching a short course for Comma Press on writing short fiction with folklore, a dream gig. As a result, I’m reading, and re-reading, lots of short stories with folkloric elements: Lucy Wood, Zoe Gilbert, Kirsty Logan, Daisy Johnson, Sarah Hall. I’m also about to start Wild Service: Why Nature Needs You by Nick Hayes and Jon Moses. It was recommended by a friend who really knows her ecocriticism and thought it’d be useful for me in thinking how folklore might respond to the climate emergency. It’s a beautiful book and I’m glad I treated myself to it.
And, of course, watching or listening to, or otherwise consuming?
Starve Acre, the film adaptation of Andrew Michael Hurley’s book of the same name, was brave in its departure from the book, I thought. I’m also heartened by the reviews of The Outrun and hope to see it soon.
I have a list of bands and musicians that I intend to get into at some point, as I know I’ll enjoy them. Nick Cave is one. But when I heard his recent single, ‘Frogs’, I was utterly floored and it accelerated the need for familiarity with his work beyond the obvious. ‘Frogs’ has a really strange effect; I feel overwhelmed to the point of tears, but it doesn’t bring to mind any personal sadness. I can’t quite work it out. There’s a line about Kris Kristofferson in it and now that he’s recently died I fear I might be placing too much significance on the song overall. The rest of the album, Wild God, is pleasing but not to the levels of ‘Frogs’. Though to describe the experience of ‘Frogs’ as ‘pleasing’ is nowhere near… it’s all very odd.
What did you read as a child?
I was one of those pony book devotees, I’m afraid. I grew up in a house that bordered the big house’s pony paddock and that was it: I was hooked, especially with the pony books of the golden era, the 1950s. I did once get teased for using the word ‘horrid’ at primary school, which probably served me right. In our English classes, my year-four primary school teacher told my mum he tried to think up story prompts that would prevent me from engineering in the appearance of a pony. He failed. I don’t think I read (or wrote) anything else until secondary school.
Which books and/or writers have inspired and influenced you, and what have you learnt from them?
I love writers who are right down there in the soil with their characters. They don’t shy away from the minutiae, the mundane, the everyday; in fact, that’s their bread and butter. Any higher meaning is scratched out of that soil, bottom-up. But they can still use a neat turn of phrase to describe it all. Ben Myers is a master of this, I love everything of his I’ve read. Jon McGregor, Thomas Hardy, too. Hilary Mantel’s Cromwell novels remind me that historical fiction is for contemporary readers. She wears her research so lightly. Zadie Smith is a god - and extremely cool - and NW is one of my all-time favourites. I suspect her work can be read on so many levels and I inevitably overlook much of the intertextuality, but her humour is so well placed. Oh, and her dialogue.
What’s the worst review you’ve ever received?
My first book was a biography of one of my heroes, Eliza Carthy. It was an immense privilege to write her biography, and a project that taught me a huge amount, but I also knew that, like with a lot of feted musicians and artists, readers would be extremely invested in how her story was told. As a huge star in the small pond of English traditional music, for many readers, Eliza is ‘theirs’. They will have met her many times, had a pint with her, seen her grow up in the limelight. As a result, some of the reviews were less about the book and more about their expectations. I remember finding a forum thread after a preview excerpt of the book was released, before the book was published. ‘Eliza deserves better’, it said. Pretty crushing when the book wasn’t even out yet! That said, it was a book published twelve years ago now and the reviewer who said my sentences were ‘convoluted’ is probably on the money. I like to think that my sentences are much less convoluted these days.
Tell us a little about your creative process.
Last month I finished a practice-based PhD which I began in 2019. It involved writing a novel and an accompanying thesis, both of which explore the representation of the calendar custom in fiction (to cut a very long story short). It was the most incredible experience and I think my creative process will likely change as a result. For example, writing the thesis made the novel so much better that I have a feeling I’ll want to write a thesis with every new novel now… which is a daunting prospect! To date, I have always had a lot of input in my creative work - from my writing group (hello Mossley Writers!), my other writerly friends, from supervisors - and I quite like the idea of fizzing away on my own for a little while, only sharing a draft much later down the line. What won’t change, I suspect, will be my tendency to start with character and motivation, with any semblance of plot unravelling from there.
How has your experience of the publishing industry been?
Very positive, on the whole. I’ve only ever worked with indie presses and the dedication, expertise and exuberance of those tiny teams is remarkable. I now realise the mark of a good editor is when you don’t see the nips, tucks and stitches. I used to think of editing as the dull-but-necessary part, but following their lead has improved my enjoyment to the point where I look forward to it. Oh, and a huge shout out to New Writing North and their Northern Writers’ Awards: winning the Arvon Award in 2017 changed everything for me.
What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever been given?
I’ve heard a few writers say - Zadie Smith being one of them - that the novel, short story, whatever it might be, is representative of the writer at that particular time. You will never think in exactly the same way and therefore you will never write the same again. A comfort, I think.
What are you working on at the moment?
I am very excited to be one of this year’s Ghosts at the Old Library writers, meaning I am required to produce a ghost story for print and performance by Christmas. It is actually a terrifying commission for many reasons: I’m scared of the short story as I find it such an elusive form that is difficult to rough into any coherent, satisfactory shape; turning my attention and imagination to ghosts for any length of time will mean I will be unable to be alone in my house for the foreseeable; and the thought of reading my work to a live audience is daunting, to say the least. But I always enjoy a challenge!