“My interests include tapdancing, sodomy and helping others.”

Remember how I mentioned a few entries ago that I won a short story competition? Well, I’m currently in the process of answering some interview questions about it via email for a local newspaper. Tomorrow they’re coming to take my photograph, which will be a million kinds of fun. I’m a reasonably attractive girl, but you wouldn’t know it from photographs. Something about the inner workings of cameras makes me turn out looking like Frankenstein’s half-finished female monster after a particularly memorable encounter with a bucket bong. Or it could just be that I have such a high opinion of myself that seeing the reality is a shock. I doubt it, though: I do, after all, look in changeroom mirrors when trying on clothes. There are no delusions here.

I should be flattered, I suppose, that they’re interviewing me. And I am. It’s just that it’s kind of weird and nerve-wracking and I don’t know how I should answer the questions. This is going to sound incredibly disingenuous coming from someone with a personal blog, but I really don’t like talking about myself. Not without being able to use toilet humour and foul language and hide behind a thin veil of sarcasm and irony, at any rate. When it comes to being serious about things, I kind of lose it, which is why when I say “I love you” to Stuart, it’s often followed up with something of the lines of “even if you are a total fuckwit”. I don’t like having to speak seriously about myself.

Of course, I realise I’m taking this all way too seriously, especially considering that within a week or so, my image and pull quotes will be lining kitty litter trays around my suburb. But I can’t not, because I genuinely am flattered and a bit proud and also I don’t want to sound like any more of a complete tool in the article than I inevitably will once my opinions get homogenised for the local rag.

It doesn’t make it any easier to answer the questions though. I am the sort of person who, when told to “say something,” promptly forgets every single word in her vocabulary. So being asked to answer questions about writing, a subject which for me is as natural as breathing or kleptomania, feels weird and uncomfortable.

I’m battling along to the best of my capabilities, however. Here’s my answer to the question, Tell me a little about yourself?:

I have been writing stories and poems since I learned the alphabet, at age 18. I hope to eventually get a Ph.D in English Literature. I love music, theatre, and hitting myself repeatedly in the head with giant plastic phalluses. My prize money from this award was spent on crack for me and my boyfriend, which was great because it meant I went nearly a whole day without having to turn tricks. I get really excited when I walk into a bookshop and breathe in the smell of new books, to the point where I have had to be physically restrained on several occasions. Policeman says I wouldn’t get so many uncomfortable papercuts if I kept my knickers on.

Obviously, this answer needs a bit of work. I should probably try to rid it of fabrication, too. For example, it’s a complete lie that I learned the alphabet at 18. I was actually 17. Which is pretty precocious for a Gippsland girl.

Further questions that pose problems:

What is the best thing about writing?

The joy of putting words together in a creative manner and realising what an impact they have. Also, the whores and the fact that alcoholism isn’t just accepted, it’s expected.

Because every fiction writer should aim to channel Hemingway.

What can we learn from your story?

That gruesome murder can be highly entertaining. Also, that killing people isn’t wrong if you don’t believe it’s wrong.

Of all my answers, this is the one I am most tempted to submit to the newspaper as is. I don’t wish to pick on the poor old hack journalist conducting this “interview,” but seriously? If this question were any more retarded, it’d be licking the special bus windows.

3 Responses to ““My interests include tapdancing, sodomy and helping others.””

  1. gypped Says:

    hehe, was THIS the link?

  2. Aimee Says:

    D’oh, no. I’m just a window licker myself. The link I meant to send you (and several other people…because I can only be TRULY retarded with an audience, of course) was this:


    (Not work safe, kids!)

  3. Anton Says:

    Forgive me if it was in an earlier entry that I haven’t read, but do we get to see the story?