Manning's unique story "They Have the Same Nose" had many inspirations, including Nikolai Gogol and Kent Haruf, which makes for a fascinating tale about people's inner identities. Mina El Attar, our managing editor of non-fiction, probes further into the mystery of Manning's story, and discovers his unafraid approach to writing.
What inspired this story? Was it an idea you've been developing for a long time, or did it come to you suddenly? Is it influenced by real-life events?
The story started out as the combination of two very basic ideas. All my stories are fairly basic at their inception—never more than a couple of sentences or a paragraph in length. So in this case, the two ideas I combined were just: “What if an unethical therapist was sleeping with the sibling of one of their patients?” and “What if a person could remove part of their face, thus hiding or revealing their true self?”
With all my writing, I like to start with very simple tangents like these and then let the story and the characters form themselves. I try to avoid thinking about theme much at all, or even character, in those early stages. It’s just more interesting to me if the narrative gathers its own momentum. (And yes, part of the story was inspired by real events, but I would say that’s true of every story I’ve ever written. Whether intentional or not, small and large pieces of my life and the people I know always seep into my stories.)
As for whether I’ve been developing this for a long time, the answer is also yes. I wrote the first draft back near the end of 2022. But it was a very poor first draft. The storylines weren’t nearly developed enough, the narrator’s voice was completely flat, and the ending was nonsensical. But I knew the story had potential, so I shelved it for a long while—over a year. When I finally came back to it, I realized I needed to start from scratch to achieve a more elevated voice from start to finish. So that’s what I did!
The story alternates between Annie and her mother’s experience and the two brothers’ journey. Did you structure it this way from the start, or did you discover that this approach best built suspense toward the ending?
I was lucky in that it started out that way. Right from that initial poor first draft, I had it structured as three separate storylines unfolding in unison. Writing to me can be a pretty equal balance of intuition and reworking; sometimes things fall into your lap, other times you have to keep working away at an idea from different angles. With the structure of “They Have the Same Nose,” my intuition took over. When I moved on to later drafts, there was never any question of messing with that structure. It worked, I felt it built momentum quite effectively. The hard part was fleshing out everything that was going to happen within those three storylines.
Did anyone or anything inspire this piece? Are there any short stories, novels, or writers that influence your writing?
Well, the obvious answer is Nikolai Gogol’s “The Nose.” I’m quite certain I initially jotted down my idea of “What if a person could remove part of their face, thus hiding or revealing their true self?” back when I first read that story many years ago. I absolutely loved the absurdity and magic of someone’s nose falling off. Right away, I knew I wanted to put my own spin on that idea.
The real answer to this question, though, is that I’m constantly being inspired by all sorts of different writers and stories. Practically every book or short story I read offers me some sort of insight. I just read a fantastic book, “Dirty Work,” by Larry Brown, and immediately borrowed ideas in tone from it for what I’m working on currently. These past few years, I’ve also enjoyed reading a lot of modern Japanese writers—authors like Yoko Ogawa, Mieko Kawakami, and Murakami—as well as the Chinese writer Yu Hua. I just love the simplicity of their prose, how it builds and builds and then finally knocks you out. How it touches on very complex themes in approachable language. That’s my favourite sort of writing.
Kent Haruf is another big recent influence. He writes these incredibly simple stories about midwestern families, and he uses such simple words and effective dialogue. Nothing really happens, there’s not some grand plot or a mystery at the centre of everything. But then all at once, 200 pages into one of his books, I’ll find myself overcome with emotions because he’s brought me so close to his characters. It’s a magical thing, really, to have that power as a writer. I’d like my writing to have the same effect on readers.
A big thing for me though, especially in recent years, is being able to take from these authors without trying to imitate them. The differentiation in that has helped me grow pretty massively as a writer.
I found the use of the nose as a metaphor and a symbol really compelling. Could you expand on its meaning? How did this idea come about?
Of course. I feel like I already spoke about where the idea came from, so I’ll stick more to discussing its meaning (or, at least, what it means to me).
This is, I think, very much a story about trauma. How trauma shapes our lives, how it shapes our images of ourselves and who we become. So I wanted the nose almost to serve as a mask/anti-mask for one’s trauma. Removing it is a way for the individual to repress or ignore certain aspects of their trauma, which is why both Edward and the narrator, Annie, can act like better versions of themselves with their noses off. But obviously, that isn’t necessarily a good thing, as they’re still very much the same people when their noses are back on.
It’s very important for me to say one thing, though: This is just my interpretation of the story and this symbolism. If readers have different interpretations, that’s totally fine, too. I feel like fiction is at its most accessible when writers allow their readers to interpret stories and come to whatever sort of conclusions they’d like. Sometimes that can backfire, but other times readers will find meaning and unexplored layers in something the writer hadn’t even intended. And that’s sort of the beauty of reading, isn’t it?
What did you learn from writing this piece? Is there a particular technique, form, or structural element that you’d like to carry forward in your future work?
The biggest thing I learned, without a doubt, is that sometimes a writer has to be unafraid of starting from scratch. When I move on to second or third (or fourth, or fifth, etc.) drafts, I would always prefer to not rewrite the entire story. It’s easier when you can just tweak a sentence here, a paragraph there. But occasionally you need to tear everything down to learn what style suits your story. Sometimes it’s the only way. And it was the only way with “They Have the Same Nose.” I needed that fresh start to develop the characters and stamp down the narrator’s voice. In the end, it was so enlightening.
Evan Manning
A writer hailing from Toronto. I was the winner of Muskeg Press’ 2020 Short Story Competition, and a finalist for Sixfold's Summer 2023 Fiction Contest. Fiction is forthcoming in Archetype: A Literary Journal.
Mina El Attar
Mina El Attar, a graduate of the University of California, Los Angeles, and Trinity College Dublin (2024), crafts contemporary short stories that pulse with emotional depth. Her explorations of relationships and friendships, rendered in a captivating stream of consciousness style, invite readers into the intricate landscapes of the human heart.
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