Andy Spragg is p’haps destined to be a foot-note on the path of others’ greatness. Some say he flew too close to the sun, others suspect he just never really tried, and others are fix’d ‘pon the idea that he was indeed too beautiful for the simple pleasure of accolades and awards. Certainly he presents as a humble man, more commit’d in truth by the prospect of making Red Cabbage soup than discussing his writing. Indeed, he is quick to have the ipod on, and quick to change the music according to mood or measure. It seems that we are off to an awkward start – however he gradually warms to me.
Q: How did you get started?
A: You mean with making soup?
Q: No, writing.
A: I was fortunate to have an excellent primary school teacher called David Purcell, he really encouraged me to write and encouraged my parents in helping me write. Since then, I’ve writing a broad spread of different things. Poetry was something I started writing as I got older – first in my teens, that sort of agonising, traumatic stuff that you hide your face from in later years. I came back to poetry largely through the efforts of Daniel Kane in my final year of university. He made poetry sound like something enigmatic and fun, which could contain the power to change…well, anything it set its mind to.