Author Evan Maloney

Australian author Evan Maloney recounts remarkable tales of a somewhat colourful former London life.

He was stabbed, twice: once by a Stoke Newington squatter; then again by a Soho pool shark. Sentimental accounts of his clubbing times of yore recall a space where the energy was ‘enthralling in an ancient Greek ritual kind of way’. And then there is the happy ending, of falling in love and eloping to Poland, where he’s now a full time writer.

His first novel, Tofu Landing (Quartet Books), will be released next month. He is already carving out the story of his second book, The Lives We Have Now, and his blog, Splat, is one of the longest running on the Australian website news.com.au. ‘I write about three posts a day on anything: art, sex, literature, film, gender relations, the media, psych studies, history, male Brazilians. It’s got a good community vibe and regulars call themselves Splatters or the Splatterazii.’

But Maloney’s narrative didn’t always trail the road unbeaten. ‘I lost the manuscript of my first novel in 1997 and was extremely disconsolate,’ he says. ‘I’d spent five years writing it, and it vanished in a second when my hard drive collapsed. I had no back-up. I didn’t write fiction for ten years.’

What inspired the story of Tofu Landing?

‘Writers who talk about their inspiration are like magicians who explain how they perform their tricks – if your literary “trick” isn’t great, talking won’t make it better, if it is good, talking detracts from the magic of the storytelling. God, that sounds wanky-pretentious, but I think it’s better to read a book on its own merits. I will say it’s fiction.

‘I started novels, but couldn’t get past a few chapters. I was writing film and art reviews, and plays, then I segued my way from theatre to television and, finally, to film.

‘By 2007 Splat’s success had given me 100,000 readers a month. Admittedly, half of these probably Googled “lesbian sex” and were randomly directed to Splat, but I still wanted to write some fiction. I found a story I’d started in 2003, a dark satire about a group of damaged, drug-loving, artsy people living in London, and I thought, this one!’

How long did it take you to write and how did you go about finding publisher?

‘After four months I had a first draft. It was then called Falling From Purgatory, which sounds like a biblical text written by a Kentucky televangelist.

‘I spent a year rewriting. I was doing film work too. I changed the narrative voice from first to third person. It kept getting requested by publishers and agents and then rejected.

‘Finally, in May 2009, I cut the first five chapters and changed the title. I sent Quartet some sample chapters and the editor emailed requesting the full manuscript. Two weeks later she said yes.’

You’ve worked on films in the past. Is it a passion you’d like to pursue?

‘Working on films seems to involve being told one thing and experiencing something completely different. Talk is very cheap.

‘I’ve worked as a freelance script consultant for years and have just one feature film script credit (Miguel Gaudencio’s Second Life). You can make money in film without writing credits, but it’s creatively unsatisfying. Projects get development money then collapse before production all the time.

‘In late 2008 I was in Budapest researching Indomitable Spirit, the memoirs of a Norwegian journalist, Edle Hubay. She married into the rather stuffy Hungarian aristocracy in the 1930s. It’s such a wonderful love story, but then the production company fell into financial problems. Now, after a year’s hiatus, the project is “back on”.’

Why did you originally move to Europe from Australia?

‘I moved to London in 1997 because I hated John Howard (the former prime minister of Australia).

‘In Australia, my impression of England was affected by the literature I read: I thought everyone went to Cambridge, read WH Auden in bed at night and discussed the Romantic movement over coffee. When I got to London I found that this was not the case and the truth liberated me. I felt more confident.

‘In Australia people didn’t dance much in clubs. The first club I went to in London I was gobsmacked, everyone was dancing. Writing can be a lonely struggle; it can suck you out of the real world. After writing hard all week, dancing was a great way to live again.

‘I loved London. My writing was improving, I started hitting my stride professionally but, despite having great friends, I was lonely. Then I fell in love and moved to Poland in late 2001. It was a spontaneous decision. My friends thought I was nuts because I’d only known Eliza two months, but I trusted my instincts. We’ve been married eight years now and we have a young daughter.’

Where did you live in London and why?

‘I moved around before settling in Stoke Newington because my friends were there. I don’t think location sets the vibe of the community, it’s about the people, all you need are friends close by.

‘I moved around for various reasons: once my flatmate stabbed me. Then I lived with a television writer who was clinically depressed. He kept bursting into tears saying: “I can’t take it any more I want to kill myself,” while we were writing a scene. We usually discussed the alternatives before continuing. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.’

Your flatmate stabbed you?

‘She was a new tenant I’d chosen from 10 applicants. She didn’t pay rent in three months. I left and the landlord kicked her out. When I returned to clean the apartment she was squatting. She attacked me, called the cops and said I’d raped her. She was charged with assault. It took the landlord six months to evict her.’

Which area of London do you find most inspiring?

‘Certainly not the underground. That place is like Hades with the lights on. Good stories inspire me more than places. I love the National Gallery and Tate Modern. I visited the National Gallery every month. Initially I tried to look at everything, then just a particular period, then one room. I worked in Soho so eventually I’d just sit in front of one painting for half an hour or so.’

Where in London would you recommend everyone visit at least once?

‘A bookshop. For febrile people who like to dance, Sancho Panza at the Notting Hill festival is worthwhile.

‘The Wallace collection near Bond Street is fantastic. It’s an aristocratic mansion that is now a museum and gallery. As well as art and antiques, it has a mind-boggling collection of weaponry. The courtyard has a café and it’s a great place to take someone you fancy on a date – you can pretend it’s your house as you walk arm in arm up the marble staircase.’

Do you have any tips for aspiring writers?

‘I’d like someone to give me some tips. Jesus, most of the time I have no idea what I’m doing. Do I put a comma here? Should I describe her dress? Would he really talk like that?

‘Writing is a minefield of doubts and you can be very scared to step out there and blow yourself up, metaphorically speaking. Just. Keep. Writing. Even when you think you’re writing shit, well, fantastic, it makes excellent fertiliser, so you’re feeding your talent and helping it grow.

‘Also, read a lot. Finally, it helps to be open to criticism, but don’t be a whore with it, or you will spend so much time on your back you won’t write anything.

‘The AA serenity prayer works well for writers: you need to ignore criticism that doesn’t feel right, accept the criticism that is constructive… and you need the wisdom to know the difference.’

Tofu Landing is released by Quartet Books in February, 2010
Read Evan’s Splat blog