An Interview with Andrew S. Birch
ABOUT THE WRITERS
Alden Nagel is the founder and editor of Nut Hole Publishing. You can find him on Instagram. He has an upcoming novella entitled Salination Mountains, and a paired novel entitled The Desalinated Exosphere.
Andrew S. Birch is a writer from Las Vegas, NV focusing on extreme, erotic and transgressive writing. Volume 1 of short stories and art is available via www.samhel.com with sales going to two new books.
Alden Nagel: How do you see your writing as Andrew S. Birch as an extension of what you do as a filmmaker?
Andrew S. Birch: To some extent, but not entirely. When I write, I don't have to immediately consider whether it can actually be produced or if I'll be able to find people interested in bringing my vision to life within the financial constraints. In that sense, I am limited. However, creatively, I'm completely free to write whatever serves the story.
Alden Nagel: How does your perspective of horror filmmaking exist in relation with horror literature?
Andrew S. Birch: I don’t entirely know they both help each other behind the scenes, but I am personally in a way different mindset when doing something dedicated to film and then dedicated to writing. I don’t usually let them overlap aside from sharing of graphic depictions of horror. I always tell people when selling zines and books that it’s a bunch of stuff I couldn’t put on screen. Not necessarily for visual reasons but just budget, I don’t entirely write with restrictions around me like I do when writing a script.
Alden Nagel: Do you feel that becoming a father has changed how you view what is inherently scary?
Andrew S. Birch: Eh, not entirely, I am still afraid of real world things and they’ve always been there. Sure now being in charge of children what happens in the world is entirely more scary than anything fictional can be. It made my already OCD and anxiety, paranoia double but nothing in the realm of “I can’t watch this film or read this book” because there is a particular death scene that now is unwatchable due to me being a father.
I however get more sickened by things regarding real life happenings. I could listen to serial killer docs or YouTube videos that contain descriptions of atrocities and deaths and not have it phase me. Now anytime they mention a child was hurt or killed or whatever, I immediately have a sickened response just due to being a father, but nothing in the realm of fiction can do that still. Its like the “repulsed switch” doesn't turn on if I immediately know the book, film or art is a work of fiction.
Alden Nagel: How did you first become fascinated by transgressive art?
Andrew S. Birch: I think it was the DIY aspect that first drew me in—friends coming together to create film and art. There was also the obvious appeal of pushing boundaries, whether to shock or to attempt to bring something real into something fake through clever trickery. I’m also intrigued by the polar opposites at play: creating within a realm that’s often completely different from my personal beliefs, and either finding common ground or simply exploring something I grew up forbidden to engage with.
For example, I was taught that porn and the adult world were inherently sinful, filled with disaster, and designed to pull you into the devil’s grasp. But when I set aside those ingrained beliefs and actually got to know people in that world, worked with them, and saw things from the outside looking in, it pulled the veil away from the black-and-white perspective I was taught.
That experience made exploring these realms more fascinating and creative. It also gave me firsthand insight that I wouldn’t have had if I had simply accepted what I was told, playing a game of telephone with secondhand beliefs. By diving into horror, exploitation, and transgressive works, I discovered something I never would have encountered otherwise. Without stepping beyond those imposed boundaries, almost every aspect of transgressive art would have remained censored or inaccessible to me.
Alden Nagel: How do you think Las Vegas has influenced how you view the world, for better or worse?
Andrew S. Birch: Well, Vegas feels more like my speed now. I’m not someone who needs to talk to a million people before doing something, and LA always felt like I was competing with 10,000 people who were either doing, trying to do, or lying about doing the same thing I was trying to do. Vegas is a little more accepting of my creations. I don’t have to fake it to make it. It’s not as busy, and I can disappear, which has been a better influence on my ability to live through writing and creating. But Los Angeles does have that mentality of, “You’ll die broke, and your family will be homeless if you don’t step up your game,” and I think that’s why I ended up making so many projects and creative endeavors—not necessarily because they were dream projects, but just to survive.
Alden Nagel: How do you view the current state of Hollywood?
Andrew S. Birch: Hollywood, as a film/arts or “state of cinema”: They have to make a choice: are they going to continue making films for the sake of art and cinema, or will they give in to the future and see what Hollywood becomes? Personally, I hope it does what I wish the internet would do—regress. Let blockbusters exist, but leave out the remakes and stop trying to shoehorn in newer gimmicks like 4DX or even 3D. Instead, they should focus on films and stories, preserving cinema for what it is, and find another avenue for the progression of tech-related moving imagery. Just don’t combine the two.
As for Hollywood itself as a place; it has never really existed for me. It’s not glamorous, and you don’t just run into stars there. Most things don’t even happen in Hollywood but in the areas around it. I’ve never understood the “wow” moments I get at conventions far from Los Angeles when I mention I’m from there. People get starry-eyed, jaws drop, and they ask me what it’s like to be near Hollywood. Honestly, I’m not a fan of the idea that the “dream” is to “come to Hollywood.” There’s nothing there. It’s actually quite sad of a place. But if you can somehow make it there, you’ll make it anywhere.
Alden Nagel: How would you describe your audience, primarily?
Andrew S. Birch: Passionate. I think they mainly consist of people looking for outlandish art. People who are curious and love the macabre or exploitation or taboo. There are some, very few that worry me, but I’d say that is in every corner of every “thing” available to become interested in. But they’re still passionate.
Alden Nagel: Do you feel that your past with experimenting with states of consciousness has influenced how you write?
Andrew S. Birch: 100% I’ve had ideas pop up I want to start writing about, or how can I incorporate ideas into projects coming up. However, It does get thrown in a washing machine when I start elaborating on my notes. As I jot a simplistic idea down in a notebook while just sitting and watching or listening to something and then go back and see how it can be used. My mind is always fucked in someway, due to mental health issues, so something is always an experiment.
Alden Nagel: Who do you find has most influenced you, and what you do?
Andrew S. Birch: Exploration of people, music, art and cinema. I pull from everything outside of what I’m currently trying to make, to put into it.
Alden Nagel: Is there any kind of personality you try to avoid working with your work in writing and film, or that you try your best to avoid in your professional life in general?
Andrew S. Birch: People with ego. I don't like people who feel they need to be the alpha in every aspect. Or people that don’t have respect for you as a person. If I am made to feel like what I tell you or do or me as me, is gonna be used against me for personal gain, I will remove myself from them permanently. Lying, being untrustworthy that just doesn't align with me.
Alden Nagel: How do you view what is viewed as horrific changes over time, regardless of culture?
Andrew S. Birch: Things, have been sincerely worrisome, gore and violence is being upped and really no reaction is happening. Horrific is the human body, which is a mindfuck to me. Sex, is horrific and sometimes bothers people more than a decapitation. Which is why I used nudity and sex. It’s like tolerance for horror went from like a 7 and its like at an 11. To have something brutal like the killing being shown in Terrifier, being fine on Netflix, but god forbid an erect dick enters the frame, it’s all of sudden un-distributable… makes no sense to me and this fear of that in the states is like ironic as fuck.
Alden Nagel: How do you view the state of online media-logging culture, such as through Goodreads and Letterboxd?
Andrew S. Birch: I don’t read my reviews anymore unless they’re thrust in my face. Some are cool and offer feedback, but the "WTF" responses are my favorite. I don’t really care what people think of my work anymore. When I first started, I’d think, "Fuck this! I suck!" every week. But now, I see how people post reviews, and for the most part, it’s just something some people do to try to get eyes or even be seen by the creators. Personally, I don’t think some negative reviews are even truly negative—they’re written in a way to get shared on social media and go viral. It’s just another tool people manipulate to appear “different” or show “difference,” but it also can boost them more than the film itself.
It’s frustrating to see CAT III and underground films getting the majority of reviews, and then those reviewers, whether on Letterboxd or another review site, suddenly drop all that to go after the hottest trends. They’ll talk about how a film made for $6,500 is garbage compared to A24’s stuff, then delete their reviews when it starts causing issues with getting noticed. It’s just... whatever.
I pushed for reviews to promote my work, but it doesn’t do anything really. Personally, I prefer the most WTF short reviews that try to make sense of whatever the hell I made. If a review is mostly about the reviewer talking about themselves, or if I know my review is probably going to be deleted because NEON reached out to them for reviews and they need to clean up their stuff now, I just don’t care to send them anything anymore.