Flip: I Wish I Was Special

October 8th, 2023

Flip is, ultimately, about a sad, lonely boy.

Liam is the opposite of my ego.

He’s also the lyrics of a Radiohead song: kind of a creep, and kind of a weirdo.

I’ve never had to personally differentiate myself from a character so much; I think it’s because Flip (and its sequels) are, so far, my only books written in first-person. If your introduction to my writing is all this autobiographical trash I leave on the internet’s curb, you’d be forgiven for mistaking Liam’s “I” for my own.

Which isn’t to say that a lot of Liam’s hopes and fears aren’t mine, or at least more than familiar.

My first novella, Them, has a few thick themes woven throughout, and one of those threads is control. I’ve written on a handful of occasions about who I was at that time, and how out of control I felt, both intimately and universally.

That desire for control was the creative seed for Liam.

I knew he would be out of touch with reality (because I was aware of what was he was hiding from himself), and a few novel (to me) ideas helped me present that. Since we were in his head, I knew that we would be able to hear his every thought, even the unsavory ones. We also wouldn’t be fully sure of when he was dreaming or not, because, at times, he’s not even sure. The combination of cringe-worthy thoughts and questionable dreams would create distance between the reader, and I hoped to close it by encouraging radical empathy on their behalf, as well.

And Liam spends whatever empathy he earns recklessly.

There’s a recent song I love by Lizzie McAlpine called “All My Ghosts”; it tracks the beginning of a relationship, sipping a slurpee with a potential love interest at a 7-Eleven. Suddenly, the bridge declares: “I can see it now! The Wedding of the Year!”

That is Liam, a nut, in a nutshell.

Because who can’t relate to being lonely? To being sad, and out of control? To wanting to bloom and be loved? To being reckless in the pursuit of feeling alive?

At his worst and most shallow, Liam makes us deeply uncomfortable, as reflection or shadow; at his best, he reminds us we’re all creeps, that we are all weirdos, and we belong here.