To celebrate this week’s launch of Book Edit Writers' Prize winner Kay Inkle's debut cli-fi novel, Overspill, we caught up with Kay to find out more about her novel and her path to publication.
1. Your novel Overspill (originally titled Tipping Point) was a finalist in our inaugural Writers' Prize before securing a publishing deal. How did that recognition influence your writing journey?
Being a finalist in the Writers’ Prize came at a crucial time for me. I was on the third rewrite of the novel and starting to lose confidence in my writing as well as the hope that it would ever get anywhere. It was a massive boost to find myself in the final and to have the experience of reading aloud to an industry audience along with other authors. It gave me the energy to keep going with the rewrites and to keep submitting to competitions. The following year it was longlisted for a couple of other prizes (Retreat West first chapter and opening lines competitions). It was key that The Book Edit prize focused on writers from underrepresented backgrounds as there are so many prizes and opportunities that seem tilted towards those who are already going to have a fairly smooth path through the writing/publishing industry. As a disabled, middle aged, queer woman who writes in ways which foreground minoritised perspectives it can feel almost impossible to get taken seriously in publishing – and the rest of life!
2. How does your background in social science research inform your fiction, particularly your approach to political satire and speculative narratives?
As a social scientist I’m always interested in the ways that structures (such as economics or culture) shape who we are, how we behave and what we think is normal or natural and, of course, the injustices that result. And while research findings and data are crucial in shaping knowledge (and hopefully social progress) the conventions of research also constrain how it is represented and who it will be read by. I have heard fiction described as the best way to tell the truth, and that really resonates with me. In fiction I write about many of the same themes that interest me as a researcher, but I have much more freedom with how I express and explore those issues. Fiction also has the potential for a much wider audience and impact than research – and many social and counter cultural movements are reinforced by fiction and other art forms.
3. What first made you turn to cli-fi as your preferred form of storytelling?
I have always loved sci-fi (e.g. Octavia Butler) and speculative fiction (e.g. Margaret Atwood), particularly when written by women, because of the way it distils elements of our current social/political/economic system and shapes them into a future dystopia. It emphasises what is wrong with what we are doing now and where it may lead us, but it can also offer the hope for a different future. I feel a special kind of solidarity with writers and storytellers who have a critical view of the world, as well as the reassurance that I’m not a complete anomaly.
That said, I often find male writers in this genre disappointing because, despite being hailed as offering an alternative vision, they rarely apply that to women – or disabled people. To paraphrase Octavia Bulter, the women just have bigger boobs and less clothes.
As an environmentalist I think speculative fiction/cli-fi makes us inhabit the future we are creating (e.g. climate breakdown, economic and social injustice) and hopefully propels us in another direction. Up until recently I had always viewed cli-fi as inevitably futuristic and part of the speculative genre, but I’m increasingly interested in how climate can be written into other genres – folk horror is particularly pertinent for me at the moment.
4. What do you think are the main barriers that disabled writers face?
I’d say there are four main barriers for disabled writers. The first stems from the widespread perception that disabled people are just a poor-quality version of a non-disabled person, which leads to the second assumption, that anything disabled people create will inevitably be a lesser version of a non-disabled person’s efforts (in any field). Whereas, in reality, disability is always a critical and creative relationship with the world. In order to live and survive as disabled people we navigate so many complex experiences and situations that are invisible to non-disabled people. Thirdly, there is the assumption that disabled people’s frame of reference is limited to and by disability and that we have nothing to share that relates to broader human (or planetary) experience. Years ago, I wrote a medical sci-fi novel (called Body Hack) with a disabled lesbian protagonist, and someone commented that it was targeting a “very niche market”, as if the story was only of interest or relevance to disabled lesbians. Yet nobody ever thinks that a non-disabled, straight, white man protagonist is catering to a “niche” market, even when we know that most fiction is consumed by women! Finally, so much of the writing a publishing world is not accessible to disabled people, including submission processes, courses, bookshops, events and so on. And the disability pay, education and employment gaps mean that disabled people are less likely to be able to afford to write and/or attend costly courses and events or submit to competitions.
5. You've had success with short fiction before this novel. How different was the process of writing and revising a full-length manuscript?
The process of writing is not massively different for me. I tend to write in creative bursts, a scene, a chapter, a section of dialogue will come to me, and I pour it out onto the page. Obviously, novel-length work involves many more of those episodes than short fiction, and there is more planning too. I get so far with a novel – a handful of scenes or chapters and then I have to make a timeline grid. I sit down for a couple of hours (usually outside with a coffee and pen and paper) and get all the key dates and events mapped out on a calendar that spans beyond the trajectory of the novel, so that even though I’m not writing in linear order there is a robust structure to hang everything from. It also ensures there are no errors in the chronology of events or characters’ lives.
For me, the real difference between novel length and short fiction arises in the editing and rewriting process. With a short story it never feels overly daunting to start a rewrite and it’s straightforward enough to undertake even quite major restructures, but with novel length work that can feel like a mountain to climb. I learnt to make it easier for myself by breaking the novel down into sections so I could feel like I was making progress and not be continually facing into an insurmountable task. But, even so, starting the next rewrite at page one, especially with a whole list of changes to make, always feels like a bit of a slog.
6. You're not only a writer but also a handcyclist, swimmer, and Pilates instructor. How do these physical practices connect with or support your creative work?
That’s a great question – I do my best thinking and imagining when I am moving, I can’t often sit still at a desk and think or create into a screen or a blank sheet of paper. There’s something for me about movement in the body creating movement in the mind, especially outdoors. I wrote the first draft of Overspill during lockdown, every morning I’d go for a long, long handcycle (the swimming pool was closed) and the story would just unfold as I powered myself along. Then I’d get home and try and get it all onto the page. Occasionally I take a notebook with me in case I get any inspired moments that I don’t want to forget, but mostly I trust that once the story has formed in my mind I won’t forget it – and the notebook doesn’t really work for the swimming pool either!
7. Could you share a bit about the journey to securing your publishing deal?
It was a very long process! I initially began trying to find an agent after I had completed what turned out to be the first draft and (unsurprisingly) got nowhere. I attended a couple of courses but still hadn’t really got my head around how it all worked. Three re-writes and a handful of competitions later, I started the process of trying to find an agent again. I ended up on a couple of people’s “possible” piles but got no further. I was also getting a bit sceptical about the whole “you must have an agent” thing and how it can create yet another barrier for minoritised writers (the Salt Path controversy has created some very interesting reflections on the publishing industry in that regard).
I read a couple of articles, one in Mslexia and one in the Writers and Artists Yearbook, about publishing without an agent and I found them very reassuring. I’ve published three non-fiction books with independent publishers, and I’d managed everything from the submission to the contract and it was not too difficult at all. So, I decided to submit to some independent publishers who take direct submissions as well as agented authors. SRL felt like a good fit as they are a climate positive publisher and also have a #BreakingTheSilence collection which “tackles the tough issues … opens up difficult conversations and … helps bring people together” which seemed ideal for Overspill. The process has been straightforward, inclusive and not daunting at all. Obviously, working with an independent publisher (and without an agent) there isn’t the same marketing and publicity budget as a large publisher, but then you’re unlikely to get that as an unknown author anyway. You have to be prepared to do some of the work yourself (and marketing is not my strong point), but I’d recommend this avenue to other writers who are struggling with the barriers to securing an agent.
8. What advice would you give to other writers considering submitting to our Writers' Prize?
Definitely go ahead and submit! This could be the one! The process is very supportive and clear, and it has been designed to be as comfortable as possible for those who might be outside the writing/publishing mainstream. There is a rehearsal and pre-meet for finalists which helps to calm nerves as well as giving the opportunity to meet other writers. I really enjoyed the whole thing, and it made a huge difference to how I felt about my writing.
9. Now that you've secured a publishing deal, what are you most looking forward to about the next stage of your writing career?
I’m excited to see what happens with Overspill, I have fantasies of a Netflix deal(!), but mostly I’m interested to see how it will be received and the kind of audience it will get. I’m keen to get dug into a completely different kind of novel next, (discussed below), but I have written about 55,000 words of the sequel to Overspill and I’d like to revisit and complete that at some point. Every now and then I contemplate another rewrite of Body Hack, but I think its moment may have passed. I also love radio drama and I have been wondering about exploring that arena more, but it definitely feels like an area where I’d need some training and some networks – it’s a very different form and I imagine a very closed industry.
10. What are you working on now?
I got half-way through the sequel to Overspill and then the menopause hit. That has definitely had an impact on my energy and creativity, but it has also made me think (and rage) a lot about the total cultural silence on menopause and the invisibility of menopausal and middle-aged women in fiction – with a few notable exceptions. I also got interested in folk horror (via radio drama) and have been exploring how that could have a feminist, cli-fi twist. So, I’m now writing a kind of psychological thriller that has elements of folk horror, the paranormal, and a feminist exploration of women’s experiences. It’s provisionally called The House and it will be no surprise to hear that the protagonist is a menopausal, wheelchair-user – although that’s where all similarities between her and me end. She’s a therapist and it turns out that she and a young client both have a childhood connection to the same, now abandoned, house where nothing is quite what it seems…
Thank you so much, Kay. Congratulations on the publication of Overspill. We wish you every success with the novel.
