Lobster fishing lit: A Q&A with award-winning author Nicholas Herring

The world of P.E.I. lobster fishing has stepped into the literary spotlight, with the novel Some Hellish capturing a big book award and astonishing its author.

"It's just such a crazy thing," said Nicholas Herring, recalling being named as the winner of the Atwood Gibson Writers' Trust Fiction Prize, at a gala in Toronto on Nov. 2. The award comes with $60,000.

Some Hellish is Herring's first book, and gains some inspiration from both his time working aboard lobster boats, as well as his day job as a carpenter, which has seen him work on several wharves in western P.E.I. The story revolves around one fisherman, named Herring, whose life is in disarray after his wife leaves him.

Herring struggles with bad decisions, substance abuse, and the ocean in the darkly comic novel. The Writers' Trust jury likened him to an American literary giant, saying "what Cormac McCarthy did for cowboys and horses, Nicholas Herring does for fishermen and boats in his novel Some Hellish."

Herring sat down with Atlantic Voice from his home in Murray Harbour to talk about the book, and his win. 

The discussion has been edited for length and clarity.

Why did you want to explore the world of lobster fishing?

Well, it's just such a unique trade. I don't think there's any other job on the planet quite like fishing, you know, being out in a boat. I mean, the fishermen in the Maritimes, it's an incredible job. They're at the mercy of so many things: they're at the mercy of the natural environment, they're at the mercy of the market, they're at the mercy of their own sort of capabilities, their own organizational capacities. There's just so much that they have to tackle, and they get out there every day, and anything could go wrong....  I knew I wanted to write about lobster fishing, and I think I wanted to write a book about the sea, and throw my hat into the ring, so to speak, with other books about the sea.

There is such a great tradition of writing about this sea, not just limited to Atlantic Canada. I'm thinking of like, The Old Man and the Sea and so many books. Why do you think there is that pull to write about the ocean?

I've noticed this myself when I'm out there fishing ... I think it's kind of like you wander outside at night, and you can see all the stars in the sky, and you're just reminded of how small you are. It's very humbling, and I think that's sort of the definition of encountering the sublime. Like when the natural world is able to remind you of how infinitesimal you are.

There's something very, very powerful about that, just as a human being experiencing that. Honestly for me, that was the big draw to try and get to that feeling, in my own small way. I think most people can relate to that, who have spent any time out on a boat away from shore.

Can you take us to the moment of that win [for the Writers' Trust award] ... what was it like when your name got called?

I don't really remember. My wife told me that she kind of had to push me out of my chair after my name had been called.

It was crazy. I was so nervous. I was nervous that whole day and like, kind of the night before, because there's a small part of you that thinks, 'oh my gosh, like, I made it this far. This is crazy.' I made it to a finalist in this insane thing. And then there's a part of you that thinks, 'oh man, maybe I could win it.' Like, you know, a very small part, but there was a part of me that was like, 'I got 1-in-5 shot. My odds are just as good as everybody else's.'

And then you'd be like, 'there's no way you're going to win. That's crazy. Look at who you're up against. There's just no way.' It would be dishonest to say I'm still sort of in shock over it, but I still really can't believe I won.

Is there a little bit of validation in winning such a major prize like that?

Yeah. I mean, there has to be, right? I spent so many years just sort of plucking away by myself, writing is such a solitary thing ... and then Bethany Gibson [at Goose Lane Editions] accepted the book, and the whole thing was crazy. So yeah, it's definitely validating.

Let me just say that when I finished the book ... like when I typed the last sentence of my first draft, that was a very big moment for me, because nobody else really knew that I was writing a book — I mean, my wife knew, but nobody else in the world knew — and that feeling that I have been chasing, I got there with the last sentence. I mean it's very fleeting, I will say that, but the thing that I had been looking for, I encountered it. So that was a very, very powerful thing. My gut instinct was that I had done something that was decent, you know, and that could exist out in the world. And that's really how I viewed it.