Dylan Clark was born in Victoria, British Columbia, on the unceded lands of the WSÁNEĆ, T’Sou-ke, Klallam and Lek’wungen peoples. He studied writing and history at UVic and is currently studying Community planning at UBC. He has worked various jobs as a bookstore clerk, farmhand, and sailmaker. In addition, he volunteered during his undergraduate studies as vice editor of the interdisciplinary student journal The Warren. He primarily writes short stories and poems. Stylistically, he’s interested in absurd and fantastical writing and the associated thoughts of dreams, memories, and lies. Thematically, his writing investigates social and ecological relationships, bad choices, and speculative places.
Clark’s short story Safety was published in The Malahat Review in Spring 2024. Clark’s careful use of militant language evokes the violence of his story’s imaginative, dystopian setting. Yet, by subtly building dark humor and feelings of loss in his young character’s interactions, the story balances warmth with its cold, stark backdrop. Safety is a sharply observed commentary on the danger of losing human connection. Read an excerpt from Safety here.
Interviewed by Sarah Roberts via email.
Sarah Roberts (SR): You studied History and Writing at UVic. If you were to advise a budding author in this program now, what would you tell them?
Dylan Clark (DC): With Writing specifically, I think the most valuable part of the program was the opportunity to connect with talented, passionate peers. Nobody does a degree in creative writing because they have to. One of the wonderful things about that fact is that everybody in your class deeply cares about their work. If you’re open to learning from your fellow students and offering them support on their projects, you’ll have the chance to make lifelong friends and deepen your writing skills. One thing I regret not taking more advantage of was the chance to chat with instructors; they’re more than happy for you to come to office hours, even if you don’t have specific questions, and there’s a lot to be learned by forming those relationships, too.
SR: The story I read has many connections with cyberpunk and science fiction. Could you share books or other media that inspire you in this genre? How do they influence your work?
DC: There are too many to name! Ray Bradbury is an older science fiction writer who really changed my perspective on what science fiction can look like; it can be a political, poetic reflection of the present rather than a long-winded space opera. The Martian Chronicles is a bit dated in some ways, but it’s still a fascinating novel. The Doll’s Alphabet by Camilla Grudova is a collection of surreal, radical feminist short stories that stylistically impacted my own writing. The New Adventures of Helen by Ludmilla Petrushevskaya, which is a collection of absurdist stories, expanded my capacity to understand how short stories could still be meaningful and engaging without adhering to traditional narrative structure. I also recommend Jeff VanderMeer’s Southern Reach Trilogy, a speculative horror trilogy.
SR: How do you develop the settings for your stories? Do you find yourself reflecting on real spaces/events when building the world of your stories?
DC: Yes, my approach to surreal or speculative settings is to take elements of the real world and exaggerate them and work associatively, connecting new ideas into the project until it resembles something new. Often, unrelated thoughts—characters, places, objects, worldviews—can be arranged, rearranged, or separated until they make a coherent whole. I like to think of the setting like a quilt; each piece has a different colour and pattern, but when placed in the right order, they feel cohesive.
Yet, I feel that speculative fiction only ever resonates as a metaphor for reality. Looking at s some of the speculative fiction I mentioned earlier, for example, the Southern Reach Trilogy,is a metaphor for ecological catastrophe, while The Martian Chronicles is a critique of American Imperialism.
SR: Short fiction is a uniquely challenging medium that offers much potential. What is the most challenging aspect of writing short fiction, and conversely, what makes it rewarding for you?
DC: I think the hardest parts about short stories are scope and plot. You have so little room in a short story to develop characterizations that each additional character makes the narrative exponentially more cumbersome. There’s no time to create a complex web of relationships, and you can’t waste time establishing your themes, characters, or plot. It can feel difficult to balance plot development while simultaneously giving depth to the characters and themes.
On the other hand, short stories are incredibly rewarding for the same reason. You can’t wander or get lost in your narrative. Once the story is ready, it feels tightly written and packed with energy. It’s exciting to be able to compress your idea in a concise, powerful form; in that way, it’s reminiscent of poetry. Also, there’s something satisfying about completion. Writing the first thirty pages of a novel feels less satisfying than writing all seven pages of a short story because with the novel, you know there’s still so much left to do. The satisfaction of finishing a piece makes it easier to keep going, even if you can’t write about everything all at once.
SR: Your short story left some doors open for the characters; what is next for you? Do you see yourself expanding this work or working on a different project?
DC: I have so many ideas for short stories at the moment, so I’ll probably move on to other projects. I think that when speculative fiction is at its most exciting, the setting and characters always feel larger than the scope of the story. In the case of Safety, I don’t currently have any burning ideas for meaningfully expanding the story, so I’m happy to leave some threads undone.
SR: Finally, could you share your go-to writing habits? Where/when do you like to write?
DC: I find I need a steady schedule to be able to write regularly. I need a set time to do it, or I’ll get distracted by other responsibilities. Personally, I prefer to write in the early evening when I’m still alert but not too awake to sit still for an hour. I like to write in a quiet space alone. Unlike some other writers I know, the atmosphere of a coffee shop or listening to music is too distracting for me, and I find it difficult to concentrate. I don’t really believe in writing every day or being overly disciplined. In the end, I’m doing it because I want to; if I make it into a chore, then I won’t write well, and I won’t enjoy writing either. I think letting yourself be internally motivated helps you arrive at the writing that matters to you.