“It feels both gorgeous and scary” is an intersection that only certain things can be classified under. Childbirth is probably what comes to mind for most. For Saba Sams, it’s the publication of her debut novel, which touches on the former through experiences of her own journey into motherhood. Two years ago, Sams was selected for Granta’s Best of Young British Novelists following the release of her award-winning short story collection Send Nudes. Now comes Gunk.
Written between child one and two, Gunk explores the concept of a nuclear family. Or rather, it flips the very convention on its head. Set in her hometown of Brighton, the story revolves around Jules, her ex-husband Leon and the nineteen-year-old Nim who has just started working at Gunk, a student night club they own. With a fried egg for the cover, a playful nod to tender themes of fertility and motherhood, UNCLE partnered with Saba Sams to launch Gunk into the streets of London.
Ahead of the campaign, we interview Saba – who just recently celebrated the birth of baby number three – to get an insight on Gunk, Send Nudes and life in London and Brighton.
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05.25 Saba Sams: Gunk
FIRSTLY, CONGRATULATIONS ON GUNK. HOW DOES IT FEEL TO HAVE YOUR DEBUT NOVEL IN THE PUBLIC SPHERE?
It feels both gorgeous and scary. Gunk is no longer a document on my laptop that I can edit any time, but a real book that other people can spend time with. I love that, but also surrendering control is never easy.
YOUR FIRST RELEASE, SEND NUDES, IS A SHORT STORY COMPILATION ABOUT THE WORLD OF GIRLHOOD AND ITS COMPLEXITIES. HOW MANY OF THESE STORIES REFLECTED YOUR OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCES?
I guess everything I write is both me and not me, true and not true, but then the world of the story takes over and I forget which is which.
SEND NUDES WENT ON TO WIN MULTIPLE ACCOLADES AND AWARDS, INCLUDING SUNDAY TIMES BEST PAPERBACK AND A GRANTA BEST OF YOUNG BRITISH NOVELIST, HOW REAFFIRMING WAS IT TO GET SUCH RECOGNITION FOR YOUR WORK?
It was unexpected and special, but nothing feels as good to me as the actual writing. Awards and accolades are useful because they attract readers, and if I have readers I get to write more.
GUNK IS SET IN YOUR HOMETOWN OF BRIGHTON; CAN YOU TELL US WHAT GROWING UP HERE WAS LIKE?
Brighton feels very intense to me, maybe because it’s quite a small city with a specific vibe, or maybe because I was a child there and children feel things more intensely. The seasons especially feel unignorable in Brighton, and that’s a big reason why I set Gunk there. Seasons are markers of time, and I had this novel about a pregnancy, where the body becomes a ticking clock.
YOU NOW LIVE IN LONDON WITH YOUR PARTNER AND THREE KIDS, HOW DIFFERENT IS IT TO BRIGHTON, AND HOW HAS THAT SHAPED HOW YOU WRITE?
I’d like to set my next book in Bethnal Green, where I live now. The chaos of it feels like it might suit the kinds of stories I’m attracted to writing. The other day some homeless people had gathered some furniture and set up a whole living room under the bridge by the station. They had houseplants and everything. Two people were playing cards. I thought it felt like a short story.
WHERE DO YOU FIND YOUR TIME TO WRITE WHILE BEING A MOTHER OF THREE?
I don’t really. I haven’t written since Gunk, and I finished that before my third was born. I don’t need much to write, but I do need time, and time is childcare, which is expensive. It’s not inspiring, but it’s true.
GUNK WAS WRITTEN WHILE YOUR FIRST CHILD WAS A TODDLER AND SECOND WAS ON THE WAY. HOW DID IT FEEL TO WRITE DURING THIS TIME AND HOW HAS MOTHERHOOD CHANGED WHAT YOU WRITE ABOUT?
The birth scene at the end of Gunk was the first thing I wrote for the book, and my dreaminess about alternative family set-ups grew out of my own experience of having young kids. So I wouldn’t or couldn’t have written Gunk unless I was a mother. In that very concrete way it’s changed the work that I do. But the experience of writing while looking after children is hard. There’s a lot of guilt, a lot of pressure, and never ever enough time.
FOR YOUNGER WOMEN WANTING TO WRITE ABOUT THEIR EXPERIENCES, WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE THEM?
That no experience or thought process is too small to write about. Pay attention. Nothing is inconsequential, and everything matters.
CAN YOU TALK US THROUGH THE ARTWORK OF GUNK?
It was made by Greg Heinimann, the in-house cover designer at Bloomsbury. I wanted a fried egg because the characters like to eat fried egg sandwiches, and also because eggs relate to bodies and pregnancy and share that gross gunkiness so crucial to the book. Greg fried the egg on the cover himself, which is a detail I love.
WHAT IS NEXT FOR YOU AFTER GUNK?
Like I say, I haven’t been writing recently. I complained about this the other day to a friend, and she said I’m writing all the time, even when I’m not getting any words down. It’s true that I have some ideas surfacing. So let’s see.
It feels both gorgeous and scary. Gunk is no longer a document on my laptop that I can edit any time, but a real book that other people can spend time with. I love that, but also surrendering control is never easy.
YOUR FIRST RELEASE, SEND NUDES, IS A SHORT STORY COMPILATION ABOUT THE WORLD OF GIRLHOOD AND ITS COMPLEXITIES. HOW MANY OF THESE STORIES REFLECTED YOUR OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCES?
I guess everything I write is both me and not me, true and not true, but then the world of the story takes over and I forget which is which.
SEND NUDES WENT ON TO WIN MULTIPLE ACCOLADES AND AWARDS, INCLUDING SUNDAY TIMES BEST PAPERBACK AND A GRANTA BEST OF YOUNG BRITISH NOVELIST, HOW REAFFIRMING WAS IT TO GET SUCH RECOGNITION FOR YOUR WORK?
It was unexpected and special, but nothing feels as good to me as the actual writing. Awards and accolades are useful because they attract readers, and if I have readers I get to write more.
GUNK IS SET IN YOUR HOMETOWN OF BRIGHTON; CAN YOU TELL US WHAT GROWING UP HERE WAS LIKE?
Brighton feels very intense to me, maybe because it’s quite a small city with a specific vibe, or maybe because I was a child there and children feel things more intensely. The seasons especially feel unignorable in Brighton, and that’s a big reason why I set Gunk there. Seasons are markers of time, and I had this novel about a pregnancy, where the body becomes a ticking clock.
YOU NOW LIVE IN LONDON WITH YOUR PARTNER AND THREE KIDS, HOW DIFFERENT IS IT TO BRIGHTON, AND HOW HAS THAT SHAPED HOW YOU WRITE?
I’d like to set my next book in Bethnal Green, where I live now. The chaos of it feels like it might suit the kinds of stories I’m attracted to writing. The other day some homeless people had gathered some furniture and set up a whole living room under the bridge by the station. They had houseplants and everything. Two people were playing cards. I thought it felt like a short story.
WHERE DO YOU FIND YOUR TIME TO WRITE WHILE BEING A MOTHER OF THREE?
I don’t really. I haven’t written since Gunk, and I finished that before my third was born. I don’t need much to write, but I do need time, and time is childcare, which is expensive. It’s not inspiring, but it’s true.
GUNK WAS WRITTEN WHILE YOUR FIRST CHILD WAS A TODDLER AND SECOND WAS ON THE WAY. HOW DID IT FEEL TO WRITE DURING THIS TIME AND HOW HAS MOTHERHOOD CHANGED WHAT YOU WRITE ABOUT?
The birth scene at the end of Gunk was the first thing I wrote for the book, and my dreaminess about alternative family set-ups grew out of my own experience of having young kids. So I wouldn’t or couldn’t have written Gunk unless I was a mother. In that very concrete way it’s changed the work that I do. But the experience of writing while looking after children is hard. There’s a lot of guilt, a lot of pressure, and never ever enough time.
FOR YOUNGER WOMEN WANTING TO WRITE ABOUT THEIR EXPERIENCES, WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE THEM?
That no experience or thought process is too small to write about. Pay attention. Nothing is inconsequential, and everything matters.
CAN YOU TALK US THROUGH THE ARTWORK OF GUNK?
It was made by Greg Heinimann, the in-house cover designer at Bloomsbury. I wanted a fried egg because the characters like to eat fried egg sandwiches, and also because eggs relate to bodies and pregnancy and share that gross gunkiness so crucial to the book. Greg fried the egg on the cover himself, which is a detail I love.
WHAT IS NEXT FOR YOU AFTER GUNK?
Like I say, I haven’t been writing recently. I complained about this the other day to a friend, and she said I’m writing all the time, even when I’m not getting any words down. It’s true that I have some ideas surfacing. So let’s see.
