Nick McDonell

Critical endorsements from Hunter S. Thompson, Germaine Greer and newspapers the world over, a place at Harvard, and a bestselling debut novel that earned him the often over-used “voice of a generation” status: Nick McDonell has accomplished more in 21 years than most writers do in a lifetime. Yes, that’s 21 years; life isn’t fair, I know.

Anyhow, the morning our interview is scheduled also happens to be the morning after the UK launch of his second (and very fine) book The Third Brother, and McDonell is suitably hungover; in fact, my call to his hotel wakes him up, and he greets me in a groggy New York drawl, relaying to me some of the events of the previous evening as if he’s trying to work them out for the first time himself. I want to hate him. He’s my age. But as the interview unfolds he remains croakily articulate on a variety of subjects, provoking nothing in me but a sort of inspiring, jealousy-tinged awe. Dammit, he’s that good.

So, are you enjoying the UK?

Yeah… I have friends at university here, so I’ve been over three or four times.

You wrote your first novel Twelve, at seventeen, which went on to achieve bestselling status and numerous translations, as well as massive critical success. Did you find this hard to deal with? And how did your family and friends react?

Okay… no, I didn’t find it hard to deal with. It was good, y’know; it was great, a great ride. My friends and family were all – this must be pretty boring stuff for you – but they were all very supportive. My friends got me drunk and made fun of me and wouldn’t take any shit from me, and everyone was just happy.

So I guess there wasn’t any pressure on you to follow up on your initial success?

Not really… people seem to be obsessed with the notion of the sophomore slump, but it doesn’t bother me so much. No fear, right?

You are currently studying at Harvard. Do you enjoy it there?

Yeah, I do, it’s fun… it has a stick up its ass, but it’s good. The classes are interesting; the professors are cool.

Is it difficult juggling writing with an academic and social life?

Umm, no… I mean, I’m a grad student, I can get away with drinking beer in the afternoon. It’s not so bad, though I do sort of wish there were more hours in the day.

As someone who is only 21 but already a successful novelist, what sort of age group would you say you were aiming at?

Do you think enough young people are reading these days?

Oh, I never think about the age group. I like people my own age, I like old people, I like ‘em all. And young people not reading? Well, I know I’m not reading enough…

Drugs, sex and violence figure largely in both your novels. Do you consider these issues synonymous with our age group?

I think sex, drugs and violence are synonymous with every age group, and I think that… you know, lots of people have written about this stuff, people that are a lot better than me.

Whereas Twelve was set exclusively in New York in the present, The Third Brother spans between continents and generations, and encompasses more diverse themes, such as September 11, mental illness and prostitution in South East Asia. Was it more of a challenge to write?

Yeah, it was broader, and more ambitious, and so more difficult in the end.. it’s hard to quantify these things.

Like Twelve, the main character is called Mike. Was there any reason for this?

Well, they’re sort of both alter-egos, you know. People have encountered these two guys called Mike who aren’t quite the same guy, and I think there might have to be one more Mike book. And also the word works well; I’ve been using a minimalist sort of style, and the word ‘Mike’ works well in these cadences.

Mike is sent from Hong Kong to Bangkok with his assignment, part of which is to research a story into backpackers and the drugs scene in Thailand. What do you make of the rising popularity of travelling abroad among the young, and what inspired you to write about it?

Well, the idea for the book was always about an American who got shot into the international orbit and then came back in time to encounter September 11. I think that tourism’s a bit like college. You can make it what you will, as a tourist. I mean, I am myself a tourist, and that’s what I like to do, go be a tourist around the world… and that’s what journalists and politicians do – people like that, no matter what they’re doing – they’re tourists.

Your writing style is extremely concise, to the point where revelatory events may be described in one short sentence, which may itself form an entire chapter. Who do you consider being an influence on your writing, and whom do you most admire?

Well, the minimalist thing, it’s a stylistic tool fundamentally… and you can go through who uses it the best, and who I’ve read and stolen from. There’s Joan Didion, Bret Easton Ellis, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Stephen Crane did it way back when… Ray Carver, I guess. It’s a good page turning trick, I think.

One image from the book that stayed with me – possibly because of the impact it had on Mike – was that of a Thai girl on a motorcycle, who smiles at Mike, who notices at the very last moment that the small bundle she is holding is in fact a naked baby. What is it that this character represents to Mike, someone who is constantly observing the world around him?

Oh, I don’t know, though I’m glad you picked up on that. That was originally going to open the book, that image. I don’t know what it represents to Mike, but I was just looking over at this motorcycle once when I was riding around in Thailand, and this family had managed to pile about half a dozen children on top of this moped… like this incredible balancing act, little kids perched on shoulders… I guess if you’ve been there you’ll know, but it stuck with me.

How did September 11 affect you, as an American, and was it something you quickly knew you wanted to write about?

Yeah, I knew straight away. I think the thing that affected me about September 11, in this book – and recently I haven’t been asked about it, is that in the US September 11 is like this thing referenced by the politicians over and over again. There’s this whole thing in the media that means if you talk shit about it, or aren’t appropriately respectful, then you are unpatriotic and you are a criminal. So I think it’s important that there’s dialogue about it. I didn’t know how it would pan out when it happened, but I knew that it was going to be important, so I was interested in all this stuff about an ‘American empire’. And who knows exactly what’s going on? But it seems like the fiddlers are coming to play in the street pretty soon. Things are not well there, or they don’t seem to be.

Are there any other young writers you would recommend, or maybe feel an affinity with?

Oh yeah, let’s see…there’s this great book called Lord of the Barnyard by Tristan Egolf, which has got a great sense of humour about it. He’s a friend of mine, and a brilliant writer – the book is sort of like Confederacy of Dunces, but it’s really cool. It’s better, I think.

Do you have any advice for aspiring young writers?

I can’t really think… I guess the obvious advice is to work hard and get lucky.

And with that his mobile starts ringing and it seems the whirlwind promotional visit is about to pick up again for McDonell, who wishes me a hurried goodbye and good luck. I try again to hate him, but can’t bring myself to do it. He’s just too good, too grounded and too genuine. I’ll say it again: life ain’t fair.

Look out for our Nick McDonell giveaway in Competitions next week