Interview by Diane Gottlieb
Nick Olson, founder and editor in chief of the literary journal (mac)ro(mic), has a new book out, The Brother We Share—an innovative, alternate personal history, based on a true event: Olson’s 2016 suicide attempt, which he thankfully survived. In Brother, Olson explores what might have happened had he not survived, specifically how his death would have impacted his brothers and close friends. The Brother We Share examines the nature of mental health struggles; it provides a rare and intimate look at male friendships and grief, at how grief changes over time and changes us. It was my great pleasure to speak with Nick Olson on Zoom about The Brother We Share, and writing about male friendships and trauma.
Diane Gottlieb: The Brother We Share examines mental health struggles and grief through the lens of those left behind to mourn the death by suicide of a loved one. You made the craft decision to inhabit the point of views of characters you actually know—your brothers, some by blood and others by friendship. What was it like imagining and then writing their responses to a fictionalized, tragic outcome of your attempt to take your own life?
Nick Olson: It felt natural. I’ve known them all my life. It was also challenging, though. People in friend groups meld together over time. To find the subtle differences between them, I searched my memory for those small moments that didn’t seem important at the time but became incredibly formative. I love injecting those into my work.
DG: Did you share the book’s premise with your friends and brothers before you started writing?
NO: I got their permission before writing one word. I was like, here’s an idea. What do you think? When I finished, I gave them their chapters to make sure they felt right. I was very surprised by how many times they said, “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” or “That’s what I was feeling.”
DG: You call Brother fiction, but it’s speculative non-fiction in many ways.
NO: I was having trouble categorizing and describing it to other people. Here’s Waldo, my first book, was for sure a novel. Brother felt different. While everything I describe in Brother is fiction, it came from a real place—what could have happened. The term speculative non-fiction feels apt.
DG: What was your timeline and process for Brother? How did that compare to your process for your previous novel, Here’s Waldo?
NO: Waldo took six years; Brother, months. I wrote every morning for thirty to forty minutes, before my brain was fully awake. Waldo took so long because I was figuring out the process. There was less self-doubt with Brother. I knew I’d get it where it needed to be. It’s a hard book, but I’m happy with it.
DG: Was there more of a sense of urgency with Brother?
NO: Yes. During 2018 and 2019, I wasn’t writing a lot. Once 2020 hit, I re-evaluated my priorities. Writing was at the top of my list. I wanted to make up for lost time. I’m not going to be here forever, so I want to make the most of the time I have.
DG: There are many books centering on loss, but Brother is specifically about how men reckon with grief. It also offers an alternative narrative to toxic masculinity. What is the role of stories in the dialogue around mental health, specifically the impact of toxic masculinity and stigma around men reaching out for help?
NO: When and where I grew up was very centered around toxic masculinity. You weren’t allowed to feel anything, just shove things down and be tough. I wanted to write the books I needed growing up. I heard “boys will be boys,” but at the time I didn’t have the words to describe what was wrong with that, to question and fight against it.
Here’s Waldo was me reckoning with toxic masculinity; in The Brother We Share, I show a possibility beyond it. The shame isn’t there—there is no judging. It’s just, what do you need? How can we be there for you? Books aren’t going to solve the problem of toxic masculinity, but they will help to continue the conversation—a vitally important one. I want to see more books out in the world tackling things like this. They can save lives.
DG: Do you feel writing this book has helped you heal this part of your personal history?
NO: Yes. Here’s Waldo and The Brother We Share were emotionally difficult books. I had to write about the things that terrified me. I needed to face them myself, and I thought maybe the books would help others, too. Now that I’ve written the books I needed to write, I can write the books I want to write. And it’s fun—the project I’m working on now is entirely different.
DG: Can you share some influences on your writing?
NO: I’m interested in speculative work, things like Riddley Walker and A Canticle for Leibowitz. I love Haruki Murakami. But a lot of my influences are not specifically fiction writers. I love Charlie Kaufman’s film Eternal Sunshine, and good story-based video games—I take inspiration from wherever it comes.
Right now I’m working on a novel-in-flash called Afterglow. There are many different characters, and it deals with speculative elements in the sci-fi realm. I’ve got huge shifts in time, thousands of years between some of these timelines, and folks’ stories intertwining. I’m having a blast doing this thing.
DG: I thought of the movie It’s a Wonderful Life immediately when reading Brother. We don’t know the impact we have on others; The Brother We Share captures this beautifully.
NO: Watching that is a newer Christmas tradition. It has a lot of meaning for me.
Nick Olson (he/they) is the author of the novels Here’s Waldo and The Brother We Share and is the Editor-in-Chief of (mac)ro(mic). A Best Small Fictions nominee, finalist for Glimmer Train’s Very Short Fiction Award, and 2021 Wigleaf longlister in and from Chicagoland, he’s been published in SmokeLong Quarterly, Hobart, Fiction Southeast, and other fine places. Find him online at nickolsonbooks.com or on Twitter @nickolsonbooks.
Diane Gottlieb’s writing has appeared in Bending Genres, 100-Word Story, About Place Journal, The VIDA Review, The Rumpus, Hippocampus, Brevity blog, Lunch Ticket, and Entropy, among others. She is the winner of Tiferet’s 2021Writing Contest in nonfiction and is the 2021 Dancing in the Rain fellow at the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow. Diane is the Prose/CNF Editor of Emerge Literary Journal. You can find her at https://dianegottlieb.com and on Twitter @DianeGotAuthor.