Editor, author, & bookseller interview: Michael Earp

Issue two: interview

Michael Earp is a non-binary writer and bookseller living in Naarm (Melbourne, Australia). They are editor of, and contributor to Everything Under the Moon: Fairy tales in a queerer light, Kindred: 12 Queer #LoveOzYA Stories, Out-Side: Queer Words and Art from Regional Victoria and co-edited Avast! Pirate Stories From Transgender Authors with Alison Evans. Their writing has also appeared in Archer, The Age, PopMatters, The Victorian Writer, Aurealis as well as the anthologies Borderlands: Riding the Slipstream and Underdog: #LoveOzYA Short Stories . For over twenty years they have worked between bookselling and publishing as a children’s and young adult specialist. Their role managing The Little Bookroom, the world’s oldest children’s bookstore saw them named ABA Bookseller of the year. A passionate advocate for LGBTQIA+ literature for young people, they established the #AusQueerYA Tumblr to catalogue all Australian young adult fiction containing queer content and characters. Representation of all people in the literature available to readers of all ages is the ethos that motivates their entire career. They have a Masters in Children’s Literature and a Teaching degree and previously served as committee chair for the #LoveOzYA campaign. Tea is the source of all their power.

O&B: At The Orange & Bee our focus is on fairy tales in the broadest sense. So I’d like to begin by asking about your relationship to fairy tales. How did you come to know them? How have they informed your life, or your professional/creative practice?

ME: I don’t have many recollections of fairy tales from my early childhood. I’m sure they were mixed in there somewhere, but the stories from my youth that I have the strongest memories of are fairy-tale-adjacent, like the Narnia series. Also, books like Richard Scarry’s Tinker and Tanker and Shaggy Fur Face by Virgil Partch unfold in very stark and episodic ways, much like fairy tales. It wasn’t until I was in my late teens and early twenties, when I started working in bookshops and leaning fully into my obsession with story, that I discovered a love of folk and fairy tales. I was drawn to their bluntness; the way they present their world and the characters living in it with such clear boundaries and rules, yet somehow full of endless possibilities. Then, when it comes to my writing, I feel like most of what I’ve written has drawn on elements from these stories in one way or another. Perhaps a magical twist, or a chance meeting, or the fulfillment of a promise even if in an unexpected way. 

O&B: In 2023, you edited a collection of twelve new fairy tales for young adult readers: Everything under the moon: fairy tales in a queerer light. Can you share a little about the genesis of that project?

ME: I’d just launched my first anthology (Kindred: 12 Queer #LoveOzYA Stories). I was riding the high and thought, ‘why not do it again?’ (I must be a sucker for punishment!) This time, however, I wanted to do it differently in two ways: I wanted to invite international authors to be involved, and I wanted to hone in the connecting thread of the stories. Kindred’s brief was queer Australian authors writing to the prompt of ‘connection’. I’m so proud of that book and what that elicited from authors, but for my next one I decided to focus on fairy tales because I love them so much. So, the brief became to choose a fairy tale and ‘queer’ it in the queer theory sense, to very much critique what the chosen story offers, and then write an original short story in any genre you like, playing with, and subverting expectations and assumptions.

O&B: At the recent Australian Fairy Tale Society conference, in Naarm (Melbourne), you spoke about commissioning the stories for Everything under the moon, noting that you asked the writers to move beyond gender flipping, or replacing heterosexual romance with gay or lesbian romance in revisioning the old tales. You’ve also written, in an article for Archer on queer fairy tales, about how you ‘​​think of retelling as a means of refracting the white beam of light we’ve been given by the fairy tale canon, and revealing the rainbow within’. 

Can you talk a little about why and how we can go about revealing the rainbow in fairy tales?

ME: While there are some stories being discovered that were deleted from the canon, and were queer in nature, and we could note that The Happy Prince contains a male-to-male kiss, for the most part, queerness (in the LGBTQIA+ sense) is absent from practically all the stories that have survived through the centuries. But that doesn’t mean that queer people did not exist, only that their stories were erased. Without opening the can-o’-worms that is book banning, we can see as recently as last year that fairy tales + queerness = concern (for some). Something that was illustrated when the Lithuanian government (unsuccessfully) attemptted to label a new publication as ‘harmful’ for children. Therefore, as the very art form was established as an oral tradition, and thrives on retelling, it’s up to queer storytellers to take what we’ve been given and reshape it to not only include us, but question the oppressive societal structures that erased us in the first place. 

As for how … that’s the beauty of it. One of the most joyous things I took away from commissioning and editing Everything Under the Moon was that none of the other contributors approached their retelling in a way that I would have thought of. I could have put together a collection of all my own retellings (one day I might do just that!) but every single one of us has our own perspective and that’s what I wanted to celebrate with that collection. 

O&B: In 2023, you gave a workshop focused on rewriting fairy tales, arguing that fairy tales ‘beg to be retold … to evolve as they would have done in the mouths of storytellers’ and offering strategies for doing just that. Can you share some of those strategies? How can we continue to evolve fairy tales for contemporary readers?

ME: I really urge people looking to use fairy tales as inspiration to think deeply about what is being said about society at large in the old tales, and question that in whatever way they choose. It’s too easy to get caught up in plot points and whether or not it’s ‘recognisable’, which are, of course, important things to consider. Depending on your goal, having it be an altered reflection of your source might be vital. However, don’t be limited by it either. Don’t worry if something is a little bit different, or a whole lot different. Could something physical in the inspiration-text be turned into a figurative idea, or event in the retelling? If that character were found wandering the streets of your own suburb or town, what would that say about the government or how society treats various classes/races/genders/professions? I like to think about literary theories as a lens to view something and delve into it further. My personal favourite is queer theory (for obvious reasons), but queer theory draws on many other theories that are good (and fun even!) to think about. 

O&B: As a contributing editor, one of the stories in Everything under the moon is your own short story, ‘The keyhole’, a radical revision of ATU510b Peau d’Anne (commonly known in English as ‘Donkeyskin’). Can you share a little with us about how you chose to address your own editorial request for a queer tale that goes beyond gender-flipping?

ME: Strangely enough (for a collection of queered fairy tales), sexuality and gender was not the niggling question that sparked my retelling of Donkeyskin. I wanted to know why the princess—having fled to a new land—only inspired the love lust of the prince when she’s dressed up in her finery from her Mary Poppins-esque walnut shell suitcase. She's exactly the same person working the fields as the farm hand. It was this hierarchical structure of class that piqued my interest. We’re more than halfway through the story by this point, but that didn’t phase me either; I jumped in there. I made my prince character meet two very different people and see if he had feelings for both of them. I just made it extra queer by making them different genders. I used it as a way to explore bisexuality as well as hinting at the ethical considerations of non-monogamy (albeit very gently). Besides, I took one of the more messed-up tales and made it a meet-cute set at a could-be Melbourne club.   

O&B: While there is a long history of writing and publishing queer narratives, including queer narratives that draw on the fairy-tale tradition in some way, it’s also true that queer voices are still under-represented in the marketplace, reviewing, and awards. I suspect this is even more true in writing for children and young adults. Why is it important for queer voices to be not just included, but celebrated? How can we (in our own various ways) support the inclusion and celebration of queer voices?

ME: I get asked this a lot and I get a little exasperated, if I’m honest. (Not because you’re asking, but because you need to ask, as do so many others, in order to get the message out there.) I don’t know how to break it to some people, but queer people exist. I know it might come as a shock, but it’s true. To pretend otherwise is to be willfully ignorant. From our existence, then, you can extrapolate that having stories by queer voices can only enrich any reader's engagement with, and understanding of, the world. The other thing that might surprise some is that reading queer books does not make you queer. If that’s the way things worked, then I can’t figure out why I’m not straight, as I didn’t encounter queer characters in anything I read until I was in my late teens and by then the horse had well and truly bolted. 

I wished that people treated literature (any artform or media, really) as an invitation to be included. I mean that in both directions. In my career working for publishers, I don’t know how many times I’ve heard from booksellers ‘we don’t have that kind of reader here’. This has been used as a reason not to stock queer books, books by or featuring people of colour, books about disabled people, etc. What this says to me is that they don’t see these identities in their customers, which may or may not be the truth. Specific demographics of any given area aside, what it really says is that, generally speaking, people do not want to read outside of their own experience. Which baffles me! Don’t get me wrong, I love feeling a sense of self-recognition when I read, but I also love insight into someone else’s life. It’s the whole mirrors and windows metaphor that gets used a lot. 

But, it’s all well and good to say these things, it’s another entirely to change a national/global mindset that underpins the cruel and bleak reality of capitalism; the very means of disseminating stories. Publishing is, at the end of the day, a business, an industry. And minorities are (by their very nature) not represented in the same numbers of paying customers as majorities, which means their stories are less viable products. Therefore, the cycle of dominant cultures and identities maintains its sway. 

The only solution is, as you say, to champion minority voices, and do so from the outset. Create a culture in which curiosity, discovery, and empathy are at the forefront, and proudly seek out stories which sit outside your own experience. 

O&B:  Everything under the moon is not, of course, the only project you’ve been involved with. In fact, you're something of a shapeshifter, variously taking on roles as an editor, writer, bookseller, and publishing professional, all with a strong focus on children’s and young adult literature. You have edited various anthologies, including Kindred: 12 Queer #LoveOzYA Stories and Out-Side: Queer Words and Art from Regional Victoria, and (with Alison Evans as co-editor) the wonderfully playful and engaging Avast! Pirate stories from transgender authors. 

In 2019, you won the ABA young bookseller of the year award in recognition and celebration of your role as manager of The Little Bookroom, the oldest bookshop specialising in children’s books in the world.

You also served as chair of the #LoveOzYA campaign, and … more!

I wonder if you can speak to how this diversity of perspectives and roles informs your perspective on the writing and publishing industry? And perhaps particularly on the challenges and importance of writing, reading, and publishing diverse stories?

ME: Oh. Wow. Yeah, that’s a good way of looking at it. I’ve done a lot of different things over my career, all surrounding the writing, publishing, reception, and reading of books. I think I’ve partially answered the question around the importance and challenges in my last response (which got a little rambly). But I suppose that with all my experience, all my knowledge and understanding of the way things work, it would be easy to get cynical about the industry as a whole. I mean, I am cynical about the industry as a whole. However, I also have hope. I’ve seen the way that readers have life-changing moments in their reading, whether it be seeing themselves or their friends in the characters of a blockbuster like Heartstopper, or finding community in fanfic. I often fall into the trap of minimising my own impact on the world because I’m comparing myself to other people’s successes, yet just this year I had the incredible experience of meeting a trans-teen who was beside himself with excitement to meet me and have his book signed because he loved Kindred and couldn’t believe that Avast! was all trans writers. It reminded me that sometimes small voices like my own can be heard loud and clear by the small crowd that needs to hear them. 

O&B: I understand that you are working on cataloguing all of the Australian YA books that have queer content (via the the #AusQueerYA Tumblr). Can you talk about why you created this project, and why it’s important?

ME: This was a very typical-Michael response to the world. The grassroots #LoveOzYA movement came onto the scene in response to bookseller and library data that showed that the most borrowed and bought Young Adult books in this country were all by international authors. Occasionally one or two local titles might creep in, but it was clear that international marketing reigned supreme. The hashtag was created (and the committee/organisation behind it) as a tool for highlighting books by Australian authors in a bid to raise their profile and celebrate our own wonderful stories. I loved the idea and joined the committee. I also wanted to make it gay. So, I decided to start a catalogue. If a reader wanted to read Australian YA, and also wanted to make sure it had queer characters or content, I wanted there to be a place where they could find all those titles in one spot. It harks back to the importance of celebrating these stories, which we’ve already talked about, as well as a bit of the ‘hey, we exist’, kinda thing. 

O&B: In June 2019, in an interview for Books + Publishing, you were asked where you’d like to be in five years, and what you hoped the industry would look like. You spoke about the future of a thriving community of readers, writers, booksellers and publishers, and your own personal hope of spending more of your own time writing. Have those wishes come true? What wishes do you have for where yourself, and the industry, might be in another five years?

ME: This boggles my mind! First that you’ve done so much research into me! But also that I was being interviewed five years ago! Haha! Wild. 

It’s really hard to say how far we’ve made it towards the amorphous, idealistic future I hoped for. Sometimes I feel we do really well, banding together to face things. We’ve weathered a lot as a whole in these last five years, haven’t we? Catastrophic bushfires, pandemics, and genocides that are ongoing and profoundly heartbreaking. And I’ve seen authors and readers step up, in each instance, and use their medium, their way of engaging with the world, as a way to help. Auctioning things for fundraisers, promoting titles and authors who are speaking out, deliberately reading diversely to expand understanding. These are things that bring me hope. However, we are still so far from any utopia within our industry of storytelling. Peak bodies which claim to be impartial are actively censoring; arts and cultural organisations continue to promote creators who support genocide and international war crimes, as well as accepting funding from those who profit from war. 

I won’t stray too far from fairy tales for this interview, but in the context of everything I’ve said already, as well as the current state of the world, looking at the way ‘stories’ are being told, and the suppression of certain voices, is not just part of the folklore tradition: news and media also rely on preferencing specific ideologies.

As far as my own writing is concerned, my full-length fiction work took a back seat about two years ago as I started working on a memoir project. The trouble was, the memoir has repeatedly had to take a back seat as I worked on my anthologies, as they were the ones with contracts and deadlines. I keep telling myself ‘now that’s done, I can get back to my memoir’ but then, inevitably, something else crops up. I actually feel like I'm now at a point where I have the time and the head space to buckle down and get that done *touch wood*. So, five-years-ago-me, you still wish for more time to focus on your writing. At least I'm consistent. 

O&B: Michael, I have a confession to make. I am a fellow Tori Amos tragic. I’m fascinated by your Michael’s walk memoir/travelogue/healing project: a courageous and inventive storytelling project. One of things you talk about as part of that project is the notion of prescribing (Tori) songs. Can you talk a little more about that, and perhaps prescribe a song for The Orange & Bee?

ME: Hazaa! I love discovering that ‘Ears With Feet’ are everywhere! (I’ll pop that there with no context, as is the fairy tale way.) I also love that I get asked about this in a fairy tale interview! So often these keep very much to the topic at hand. 

The prescription idea came from my best friend, who came on the trip I made two years ago with my partner and me. Basically, when you’re well steeped in Tori Amos’s music, it becomes a shorthand to particular emotions or situations. The idea is that when we’re needing some sort of guidance, you ask for a prescription the way you might consult a doctor or healer. They suggest a song from Tori’s extensive catalogue. Sometimes it’s without context, sometimes you’ll have a sense of what’s going on with them, but you offer a song to spend some time with. 

Quite often the choice will take you by surprise. Sometimes it’s one that you’ve not spent much time with and so listening with intention opens up whole new meanings. I’ve had tracks prescribed that I’d never connected with until I was offered it in this way and now they’re in my top ten Tori tracks. 

As for prescribing a Tori song for The Orange & Bee, my mind whirls through potentially thematically linked ones. I’m going to break the rules of the prescription, but abide by the fairy-tale rule of threes…

I think The Orange & Bee readers should listen to:

• Merman

• The Beekeeper 

• A Sorta Fairytale 

(See what I did there?)

O&B: Finally, do you have a favourite fairy tale? What is it about that particular fairy tale that resonates with you, or has been important for you?

ME: The one I hold most dear is Hans Christian Andersen’s The snow queen. It was the first one I read in which the girl is the hero. She sets out of her own accord to rescue her friend. It’s rich in detail and metaphor, and I love thinking about what it says about the world, as well as questioning what it says about the world. 

Thanks so much for having me! I’ve had such a wonderful time.

O&B: It’s been a pure delight, Michael—thank you!

Extra Special Giveaway

ME: Everyone who heads to michaelearp.net and subscribes to my monthly newsletter by the 30th of September will go in the draw to win all six books with my writing in them: Kindred, Everything under the moon, Avast!, Outside, Underdog, and Borderlands. I will post them for free to anywhere in Australia, or if it's an international winner, I'll ask for a contribution for the international postage. If you’ve already subscribed and want to enter the draw, you can reply to a previous newsletter and mention The Orange & Bee.