Andrew F. Sullivan

Feb. 16

I work from home, so I’ve got two set-ups, one for work, and one for fiction. It works out surprisingly well and lets me keep my work life separate from my creative pursuits when needed. Yes, the orange painting is haunted.

This carving belonged to my grandfather. I enjoy nameless wizards. Reject the corporate clutches of intellectual property. Summon your own little dudes without the weight of someone else’s back story.

What do you feel is your best piece of work?

I’ve got a novel I’ve been working on since 2017 coming out this April. The Marigold is a story about a city eating itself, a near-future Toronto crumbling in real-time. Our current reality with all the dials pushed to 11. A sentient mold clambering up the drains, telling people to join its cause. I’m excited for it to be out there in the world. It is my vision in every sense of that word.

What music have you been listening to lately?

A lot of early Warren Zevon. Sad bastard music like Jason Molina, and some R&B from Tinashe. A mixture of morose and ethereal. I wouldn’t mind a world where those overlap.

Who is the last character you related to and why?

Boromir, played by perpetual dead man walking Sean Bean in Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. A reliable rewatch with actual practical effects and just enough misery. An overly proud eldest son fucking it all up, while still attempting to remain true to his ideals and his friends when true evil finally shows itself. Or maybe I just really wish I had a horn to blow into, summoning my pals to my side. We really need to bring back tragedy.

Have you ever failed at something you care about?

All the time. It’s good to get used to that feeling. It will continue to happen. There’s a couple novels cooling their heels in the bottom of a hard drive somewhere. One day they will disintegrate. Or maybe resurrect themselves. You can’t tell what’s coming. Writing is a series of small humiliations and then you die. It’s best to enjoy the process.

How much vitamin D do you take?

However much I get when I go outside. I end up eating a lot of pickled eggs and fresh fish, so that helps. But probably not enough. Maybe need to eat more eggs. Embrace my inner Gaston.

Last gift you received?

A stuffed kiwi from New Zealand. The bird, not the fruit. I haven’t given it a name, but I would die for it. I know that much.

Favourite photo?

There’s a picture of me as a young kid with all my toys organized by type on the floor, whether they are animal or mechanical, and then again by height and species. What this says about me remains lost to time, but the carpet is a wonderful orange shag, and the walls are barnboard. It’s a portal to another place, where everything I knew could be catalogued. A smaller world.

Best season?

Autumn. October especially. I like the feeling of chilled air and wearing a jacket. Layers upon layers. A bit of dread, a bit of melancholy, an acknowledgement that time keeps moving. Beauty in defeat, a reminder everything is cyclical. Even the trees lose their clothes sometimes.

What drives you?

I say “spite!” and the crowd goes wild. In reality, probably a desire to create. I like to make things. I like to make art. I will continue to do that until I can’t or something better comes along.

Best outfit?

I like jackets. Probably too much. I’ve got a thrifted Lee jean jacket someone added sparkling roses to on the chest and a full-blown, glittering dragon on the back. It stands proudly in front of a golden moon, also crafted from glitter. A piece I wore to the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville for a Jenny Lewis show years ago. Tacky is all relative. There is a time and a place for dragons.

Do you like to write in the morning or at night?

I write when I can. Usually, that’s at night, or all of a long weekend, or in the morning when I haven’t slept, so it’s still night to me. But wherever the time is available, I will take it.

What do you consider to be your first rejection?

When I was sixteen, I sent a short story about a man reflecting on a plague while he sat on a park bench and watched the government tear down his apartment building. The magazine I sent it to stated in their written rejection (this was in the days of the dreaded SASE for all your magazine story submissions) “This appears to be written by a high schooler.”

And it was.

Where is the best place?

The south shore of Nova Scotia in early September when the sun is out and the water is calm.

What’s an example of a good ending?

The Third Man (1949), directed by Carol Reed and written by Graham Greene. A man making the right choice for perhaps the wrong reason ends up rejected by a woman who he only ever understood as a fantasy. An antidote to heroes, casually cruel and deeply poignant to me.

Latest book you’ve read or favourite book ever?

My favourite book these days is probably Dirty Snow by Georges Simenon. It’s a bleak, brutal novel about a young, uninspired criminal in occupied France. It holds to its premise to the very end. No absolution. An exploration of human weakness, depravity, and the unrelenting power of the state reproduced between its citizens, whether they’re willing collaborators or not.

Anything you’d like to promote?

The Marigold coming at you this April 18th, 2023. I will show you fear in a handful of mold.