Q&A with Brendan Gillen

 

 

 

Brendan Gillen is the author of the new novel Static. His other work includes the chapbook I've Given This a Lot of Thought. He lives in Brooklyn.

 

Q: What inspired you to write Static, and how did you create your character Paul?

 

A: This is the only time this has happened to me, but the seed for this novel came to me in a dream. I dreamt that there was a band, a duo, comprised of a bassist named Bunky and a guitarist/singer named Eloise. Bunky and Eloise… I have no idea why those names came to me in my sleep, but they did, and they lingered.

 

I tried and failed several times to write a story about this duo trying and failing to make music while also trying and failing to make it as a couple.

 

The story gained momentum when I began to write about a third band member named Paul, who gave their relationship dimension. Paul’s presence leads the trio to realize they all share quite a bit in common, namely their pursuit of making music as a way to escape family traumas.

 

They also happen to mesh really well as musicians, and some of the most fun I had writing this book was developing these moments of creative inspiration and music-making—those fleeting, ineffable moments of creative flow.

 

Ultimately, Paul became the main vehicle/protagonist to tell this band’s story because he had the most to lose at an existential level. He has no Plan B. He’s never considered a life outside of making music. And so, if this doesn’t work out? He’ll drift into adulthood completely unmoored.

 

As the novel took shape, I kept returning to the last sentence of  “Bullet in the Brain” by Tobias Wolff, which I (like Paul) straight-up jacked for They Is, the band’s name in Static:

 

“Time for the shadows to lengthen on the grass, time for the tethered dog to bark at the flying ball, time for the boy in right field to smack his sweat-blackened mitt and softly chant, They is, they is, they is.”

 

Q: The writer Elizabeth Gaffney said of the book, “Static is a heartfelt, moving debut about the downtown New York music scene, brimming with wasted talent, floundering ambition, broken hearts, and betrayals -- and wonderfully redeemed by the possibility of second chances.” What do you think of that description?

 

A: First of all, I can confidently say that Static would not be in the world without Elizabeth’s edits and guidance. She runs a fantastic novel workshop that’s an offshoot of A Public Space, and her espousing of “editorial empathy”–meeting a novel where it is, rather than imposing authority–made room for shaping the book that exists now. All to say, I’m flattered by her praise. 

 

I love her take on the novel’s central themes, particularly the notion of “floundering ambition.” What do you do with all the restless energy of your youth when you know you have something to say, but can’t quite figure out the best way to channel that message?

 

This question can lead to a lot of dark nights of the soul and anxiety and disillusionment. Like Paul, it me took a lot of trying and failing (and flailing) to realize that even if you do manage to achieve what you set out to, whether that’s making a song or an album, or a novel (ahem), it’s never going to save you or deliver the contentment you’re seeking.

 

So, what do you do then? Particularly when your pursuits have alienated those around you, or kept you from enriching relationships. 

 

Which is why the “second chances” Elizabeth alludes to are even more important. Not so much the second chances that have to do with traditional notions of “success,” but rather second chances with the people in our lives that we love and who love us, regardless of what we make of ourselves.

 

Q: How was the novel's title chosen, and what does it signify for you?

 

A: To me, Static has a few meanings, the first of which signifies the sound of a needle hitting the groove of a record, that anticipatory, papery static before the music kicks in. This will sound corny, but to me, it’s one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. So full of possibility and promise.

 

Static can also mean animosity or “beef” between two people, and there’s certainly plenty of that to go around in the novel–between Paul and Bunky, between Paul and his family, between Bunky and his parents, between the band and their manager, Stevie Reese. A music novel can’t exist without some real band drama.

 

And lastly, Static alludes to a sort of arrested development, which Paul struggles with. He’s on the cusp of 30, well past time to grow the hell up. But what does that mean, exactly? Particularly when your dream is to make art in a world that doesn’t always make room for it.

 

Do you abandon your dreams in the name of stability? Do you keep pushing even though life might pass you by as you do so? These are all questions I struggled with, especially when I was moving through my late 20s and early 30s as these characters are. 

 

Q: What do you hope readers take away from the book?

 

A: With Static, I hope readers encounter an authentic portrait of  the music industry and trying to “make it” as a young person in New York City, or anywhere, really.

 

And beyond that, I hope readers engage with what “success” actually means. When you’re young, especially in the social media age, success can seem like it’s all around you, that there’s some kind of race to “arrive”...whatever that means. I think as you get a little older, you begin to realize that “success” is a myth, that you never really arrive. Hopefully you grow and keep growing.

 

It’s something of a cliche, but what really matters is family, friends, your health, and trying to live a lift of grace and empathy and kindness.

 

Q: What are you working on now?

 

A: I’m currently querying a coming-of-age novel for adults called Dust, about an anxious and sensitive boy navigating deep family trauma and charting his own path toward manhood. It’s set in mid-‘90s Georgia, a time when mental health and masculinity were still on the cusp of the cultural lexicon.

 

As I say in my pitch, Dust is a novel of ghosts and family secrets, Little League baseball and the lies we tell ourselves to survive. If any agents out there wanna give it a read, holler at me. :)

 

I’m also working on a draft of a novel that delves into the world of major college basketball, again returning to themes of mental health, specifically anxiety and insomnia, which I’ve struggled with at different points in my life.

 

It’s a novel centered around a tragic incident that happens on a big-time program and the resulting legal and emotional fallout. I’m envisioning the basketball version of The Secret History. We’ll see!

 

Q: Anything else we should know?

 

A: Thank you so much for the space to share more about Static! I hope people have fun reading it. At the very least, I hope it inspires you to go hit your local record store. Pick something out, bring it home and really listen to it. Crank up the volume. You won’t regret it.

 

Much like your local indie bookstore, record stores are vital to the arts community of a place, full of stories waiting to be discovered and shared.

 

When I travel, I always make a point to hit at least one record store, because beyond the music itself, the staff will almost always have a great recommendation for a place to get a coffee, a drink, or to see a show, and usually a place you’d never have discovered otherwise. Just thinking about all of this is giving me the itch to do digging. 

 

--Interview with Deborah Kalb