GALLEY BEGGAR PRESS SHORT STORY PRIZE 2025/26
Ten questions with GBP Short Story Prize author Evie Quet
CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR GBP SHORT STORY PRIZE LONGLISTING, EVIE. CAN YOU OFFER OUR READERS A SHORT INTRODUCTION TO ‘PULP’, AND WHAT YOUR STORY IS ABOUT?
Thank you so much. I’m honoured that the story was read, and even more that it resonated enough to be longlisted.
‘Pulp’ follows small moments in the life of a young art student as she moves through the world performing normalcy. More than anything, I wanted to tell a story about anxiety and a constant underlying anguish without ever giving her a formal diagnosis.
AND CAN YOU TELL US A LITTLE BIT MORE ABOUT ITS INSPIRATION, AND THE WRITING OF IT?
The inspiration behind ‘Pulp’ is very personal. Some of what the character experiences are things I have had to walk through myself.
Two things were important to me while writing it. First, I wanted to avoid judging her. Instead, I tried to capture the constant hum of unease that exists beneath the surface of her life. If the story makes the reader feel slightly nauseous or unsettled at times, then I feel I’ve done my job.
Second, I didn’t want to offer the family any real catharsis. They are functional in their dysfunction – loving but emotionally distant, and that dynamic persists until the end of the story.
WHILE RE-READING ‘PULP’, I LINGERED ON A LINE AT THE GRANDMOTHER’S FUNERAL, WHERE THE PROTAGONIST TALKS ABOUT HER DRESS: “HER DRESS FEELS SOFT BUT A BIT CONSTRICTIVE; SHE CAN’T WAIT TO TAKE IT OFF SO SHE CAN BREATHE.” THIS SEEMED TO ME AN EQUALLY EXCELLENT WAY OF SUMMING UP HER DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENT – AND IN PARTICULAR HER FATHER’S ROLE IN IT. WCAN YOU SAY A BIT MORE ABOUT THAT?
The funeral section was one of the hardest parts of the story to approach, because we see the protagonist using intimacy as a coping mechanism. She doesn’t know how to grieve and doesn’t have the tools to ask for help, so she turns to Alister and copies behaviours that have worked for her in the past.
The line you quoted also works as a metaphor for her constant state of anxiety. The idea came from someone very close to me who is autistic. He cannot wear shirts with tags because they irritate his skin. And if so much as a thread rubs his body the wrong way, he will cut holes in the fabric until he feels comfortable wearing it. Most of his everyday clothes are almost rags.
But there is a kind of wisdom in that process. Bodies speak, and we have to learn how to listen to them.
THE WRITING STYLE IN ‘PULP’ IS CRISP, DIRECT, WITH STACCATO SENTENCES THAT READ ALMOST LIKE A REPORT. HOW DID YOU ARRIVE AT THAT, AND WHY DID YOU THINK IT WAS THE RIGHT CHOICE?
It was important to me to repeat certain themes throughout the story. One of the recurring phrases in the story is ‘love and justice prevail’. The more persistent it is, the less weight it carries.
The short, direct, almost acerbic sentences create distance between the reader and the events on the page. This mirrors the emotional distance the protagonist has from reality. It allowed me to show her symptoms rather than explain them, and it helped me avoid judging her too harshly.
OK! ON TO YOUR WRITING MORE GENERALLY. HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WRITING? DO YOU HAVE A DAILY ROUTINE? ARE YOU WORKING ON SOMETHING AT THE MOMENT?
I’ve been writing since I was a teenager. I was lucky enough to study scriptwriting in Buenos Aires, Edinburgh, and Hamburg, which exposed me to very different artistic cultures and approaches to storytelling.
At the moment I’m working on my first novel. It’s a fantasy story with undertones of generational trauma. Like many South American writers, I’m naturally drawn to magical realism, even though ‘Pulp’ itself contains no magical elements.
My daily routine mostly involves trying to be kind to myself. I write, and if I feel my brain is fried, I step away for a while. The text will still be there when I’m ready to return to it.
WHAT’S THE BEST WRITING TIP YOU’VE EVER RECEIVED, AND WHAT’S THE WORST?
The best advice I’ve heard is: in order for something to be written well, it first has to be written poorly. Get the words down. You can always revise them later.
The worst advice might be ‘relax’ or ‘just breathe’. It’s both good and terrible advice at the same time. Perhaps I simply lack the wisdom to just breathe – but at the same time, I am always breathing. Someone else telling me to breathe doesn’t improve my breathing.
HABITS, TOO. WHAT’S A BAD WRITING HABIT YOU HAVE – AND GIVE US ONE THAT’S PROVED FAIRLY USEFUL.
A horrible one is editing as I go, especially when working on something large like a novel. It can make the work feel overwhelming and difficult to measure.
A good habit that I have is probably also as bad a piece of advice as ‘just breathe’; mine is ‘just write’. But I have found it works for me. As long as I’m putting something on the page, there’s always the possibility that something useful might emerge. Even writing something mundane can sometimes trigger an idea that finds its way into another piece.
CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT SOME AUTHORS YOU ADMIRE, AS WELL AS SOME THAT YOU ARE INFLUENCED BY?
My favourite author is Silvina Ocampo. She was an Argentine writer whose work often explored life within wealthy circles in a society marked by deep class divisions.
For ‘Pulp’ I think I was influenced by Sally Rooney’s work. Beautiful World, Where Are You in particular resonated with me. I admire the precision of her writing and the way she captures emotional tension in very quiet moments.
AND WHAT ARE YOU READING AT THE MOMENT?
At the moment I’m rereading short stories by Edgar Allan Poe. I first fell in love with them when I was probably far too young to be reading Poe, but a gothic short story before bed still does wonders for my dreams.
I’ve also been reading the other stories longlisted for the Galley Beggar Press Short Story Prize, and I feel very lucky to be in such wonderful company.
“THE HORROR OF THE BLANK PAGE.” DO YOU FEEL THAT HORROR? AND HOW WOULD YOU ADVISE OTHER WRITERS TO GET BEYOND IT?
I think everyone feels the horror of the blank page. If someone finds a cure, I’d love to hear it.
What helps me is writing in a notebook – usually the cheapest, ugliest ones I can find. That way I feel less pressure if what I’m writing isn’t very good. An ugly notebook that you wouldn’t mind losing feels far less intimidating than a pristine document on a computer.
There’s also something about the physical act of writing. There’s a strong connection between the brain and the hand, and once the mind starts dictating to the page, the hand often feels freer to explore ideas that might not have appeared otherwise.
EVIE QUET is an Argentine writer based in the UK. She has a background in scriptwriting. Her work has been longlisted for the Galley Beggar Press Short Story Prize, received an Honourable Mention from Elegant Literature, and was longlisted for the Farnham Writing Competition (First Five Pages). She writes stories where devotion curdles, bodies speak, and the ordinary seemingly slips toward the uncanny.