Mark Nunn
Novel: Tales of the Gog
Mark lives in London, as thoroughly as possible, and grew up across Africa, the Americas and Europe. Being itinerant stuck: now he’s a technical writer, editor and rapporteur, mainly but not exclusively in areas related to public health. He’s also a regular member of evaluation teams working under the International Health Regulations M&E framework, and at time of writing has been privileged to support 25 missions to assess health emergency preparedness in 25 different countries.
He's also a co-founder and current COO of a social enterprise called In Tune for Life (www.itfl.org), which produces animation, video and music materials for health promotion, health education and improved primary care around the world; and an experienced audio editor and producer.
Mark’s other credentials include an ice driving qualification from TCS in Switzerland; nobody ever asks for that, but it’s particularly impressive because it was achieved in a 1995 Toyota Previa. IYKYK.
What made you enter the Cheshire novel Prize?
I was wasting time online, late one night, and saw a Tweet from an author I follow – I wish I could remember who it was. It said something like “Everybody should enter the Cheshire Novel Prize, it’s the best thing I ever did, the deadline’s in 90 minutes.” I’m very impulsive, so I did.
What did it feel like when you were LL and SL?
Genuinely shocking for the longlist; even more so for the shortlist. And then, after a while, deeply encouraging. Validating, I guess.
What was the reaction like from those around you? Family? Friends?
I didn’t tell anyone initially. I still haven’t – writing this between the shortlisting and the announcement of the winners, I’ve only told a handful of people, and mainly people I asked to feed back on the Gog.
When Sara rang about the shortlist, I missed the call initially (I was in a quantum entanglement simulator at CERN with my son), so I had to ring her back. And I don’t know if she did this deliberately, but she started very caring and sympathetic, telling me how well I’d done to get this far, and I thought, I know what’s coming. And she went “The standard was very high, and making the longlist was a huge achievement. It’s been very hard to cut this down and you were all brilliant, but we had to choose ten.” So I said, “I understand.” And she went – still in a very, very sad voice – “So I’m really happy to tell you that you made the shortlist.”
So when my wife asked how it all went, I recreated that whole experience for her. And when I got to the end she went “You shit! why did you put me through all that?” and punched me.
How did you come up with the idea for your book?
My son went through a map-drawing phase, and when I was chatting to him before bed one night, I said – imagine if you had magic powers and all those maps you chuck away were real treasure maps and you made all the binmen rich. And that stuck.
How long did it take you to write it?
Too long. I think about eight years. I struggle to write – to do anything in a structured manner, to be honest – and I put myself in all sorts of holes. I climb out of them using other holes, as bad a metaphor as that is. Imagine complementary holes across different dimensional axes. When I entered the prize I’d had the whole thing planned out for years, but I still hadn’t finished the draft. So the longlist announcement was the rocket I wanted.
What advice would you have for anyone thinking of entering?
Do it.
What’s changed for you since entering?
I feel more inclined to write and more hopeful for more adventures.
What’s your novel about?
The pitch! “Woken by mysterious binmen with fantastic secret, Two London brothers get caught up in mysterious game played in a city they suddenly don't recognise.”
But it’s also about change, and growth, and loss, and being lost and frustrated, and hurting. And being unsure of yourself and needing a family, needing love when you haven’t got it. And growing up, and watching the world get bigger through a child’s eyes, and feeling those eyes get bigger too. About learning how sometimes comfort cuts you off from the really important things, hides you away from what’s really interesting about the world.
And also the coolest rubbish truck in the history of the world.
What’s your writing routine?
When I see people saying, “I get up at five and write for two hours every day before I take my kids to school,” I think, “I want to be like you when I grow up,” but then I never grow up.
What’s next for you?
I have genuinely no idea. But now I have some people who really want to read volumes two and three.
Have you done any writing courses?
I did a five day short story course at Faber some years ago that was good fun.
What are your two favourite books and why?
Oh good Lord. I have no idea. In terms of heavy use they’d both be recipe books – probably From Bombay with love and Appetite. Because they teach principles rather than list recipes.
I have writers whose books I’ll buy without checking – Nick Harkaway (whose influence is all over the Gog), Cassandra Khaw, China Miéville, William Gibson, because in their different ways they all open up new worlds that are exciting and strange but real.
But favourite fiction books, I can’t, because then I’d have to go back and re-read. And there’s already too many books I haven’t read.
What advice do you have for any aspiring writers?
I am the very last person any aspiring writer should be asking for advice. But “2000 words a day” works a dream if you can make yourself do it. I can’t.