Andrew McMillan was born in South Yorkshire in 1988. He studied English at Lancaster University followed by an MA in modernism from University College London. His debut full-length poetry collection, physical, was published in July 2015 and is the first poetry collection to win the Guardian First Book award; it also won the Fenton Aldeburgh First Collection prize, a Somerset Maugham award and a Northern Writers’ award. McMillan is senior lecturer at the Manchester Writing School at Manchester Metropolitan University, and lives in the city. His second collection, playtime (Jonathan Cape, £10), is out now.
1. Poetry
Roar!, Martin Hayes (Smokestack Books, 2018)
There’s a growing discussion about the role of working-class voices in art at the moment; whether they’re let in, and who listens to them once they are. This collection seems to me a vital set text for any such discussion. It knows that these big concepts (“class”, “politics”, “the economy”) can’t be written about in their macro sense – that it’s the personal stories that matter. What we get in this book is a real roar of anger, resignation and fortitude from workers in everyday jobs on the frontline of austerity Britain. It reminds me of Fred Voss or Geoff Hattersley; essential reading.
2. Roundtable
Variety’s Transgender Actors in Hollywood
When I tell my boyfriend I’m “working from home”, I’m actually binge-watching roundtables of American actors on YouTube in my study. There’s something enthralling about watching creative people at the top of their field discussing their processes and lives. This is a marvellous example: Laverne Cox, Chaz Bono, Alexandra Billings, Brian Michael, Jen Richards and Trace Lysette discuss their careers, the urgent need for better representation in Hollywood, and the wider political climate for trans and non-binary people.
3. Short stories
Heads of the Colored People, Nafissa Thompson-Spires
There is so much great writing being published at the moment that it’s easy to become almost complacent at the abundance of new talent. Then, every so often, a voice comes along that knocks you sideways; this debut collection of short stories was one such moment. From the first page there’s an electricity and freshness to the voice that grabbed hold of me and wouldn’t let me go. I hadn’t encountered her work before, but I’ll be keeping an eye out for what comes next; I’ve already given the book excitedly away to someone else – a sure marker of how much I value it.
4. Song
Robyn is one of those artists for me; the soundtrack to my early 20s. At university I got her record label logo tattooed on my arm (yes, I am that person). When I’d finished university and was going through a breakup, my friend and I got tickets to see her in concert, but then she cancelled. “Come to Manchester anyway,” my friend said, and I did, and the clubs played the songs we didn’t get to see live and we danced. When this new song dropped I put in my earphones and, reader, I wept, with joy, with sadness for my younger self. And then I danced.
5. Shop
Anytime I’m in London I try to make time to go to Liberty. I’m a devout atheist and this is my church. The lush, luxurious purple of the bags; the old timber frames and the uneven stairs; the rugs, the fabrics, the furniture… it’s heaven! The clothes, though, are what keep me going back. I’m a huge believer in fashion’s ability to conjure up imagined futures, to show idealised pictures of how we might live our lives by giving us new ways to present ourselves. The displays of designers can be browsed like an art gallery, with no pressure if you’re saving, as I do, for months, for that next euphoric purchase.
6. Podcast
Goosebumps, Welcome to Deadcast
When I was growing up, the first books I really got into were the Goosebumps books. wWhen the internet was first a thing, before we had it in the house, my dad would take me down to the village library so I could look on the rudimentary Scholastic website at the RL Stine pages. This podcast, presented by Daniel and Matthew Scott Montgomery, sets out to revisit all the stories in chronological order (starting with Welcome to Dead House, obviously). So far, so podcast, but they do it while seamlessly interweaving pop culture references, RuPaul quotes, Kelly Clarkson lyrics; it’s the Goosebumps/queer culture crossover that we never knew we needed.
