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Sam Shelstad says he wanted The Cobra and the Key to be a narrative as well as a creative writing guide.Supplied

“Sam Shelstad,” the hapless narrator of the new novel The Cobra and the Key by Toronto-based writer Sam Shelstad, has a problem. A series of them, in fact: a long manuscript that only one person in the whole world likes; a girlfriend who inexplicably broke up with him; a job at Value Village, which he is about to lose; a large collection of rejection e-mails from publishers and magazines; and a self-confidence undented by anything that comes his way. He is so self-assured that even though he hasn’t published much, he is working on a writing instruction manual.

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And this is the novel that we read: a writing guide whose author misunderstands every writing tip and misuses every quote while he’s trying to process his own life.

The Globe met recently with the real life Sam Shelstad to ask him about how he decided to tell a story in the form of a writing manual.

What do you find interesting about an oblivious narrator? Narcissistic, too. And hilariously self-assured.

I think that’s my favourite kind of comic character. I love people who have so much unearned self-confidence. Some of the funniest comedy comes from that type of personality. I knew it was going to be a book full of jokes, but having jokes which are misapprehensions of common creative writing guide advice would get old fast. I knew the jokes had to come from the character. I picked what I think is the funniest archetype of a comic character. A big influence was Tim Heidecker and Gregg Turkington’s On Cinema. It’s a movie review show, like Siskel and Ebert, but they’re both complete idiots. Gregg Turkington played “the expert” on the show, but they would just give the most surface-level reviews of things and they’d give everything five bags of popcorn in their rating system. They would just use the show to shoehorn their own stories in, just like my character.

His guide is essentially a guide on how not to write. And how not to be in a relationship. Tell me about this Harold and Maude type relationship he is in. The woman is in her 70s?

I knew I wanted a story. I didn’t want it to be just a creative writing guide, I wanted it to have a narrative. I thought: a love story, a relationship – he’s trying to work through this relationship that failed. There’s a kind of fun premise there, a much older woman, friend of his mother. There’s a lot to mine there, and a lot of conflict. He has to hide this relationship for a long time. While he’s contemplating their being together, he says a lot of ageist things, and treats her horribly. This is the main story beside his writing ambition: sorting through a botched relationship. And I think the age difference just made it a little more funny.

And why would he be into her? In his mother’s writing group, everyone tears his book apart, and probably rightly so, but for whatever reason Molly loved it and that’s why he’s interested in her. “Someone recognizes my genius.”

Were you worried about alienating the reader at any turn? It’s an analysis of the writing of a story. We are observing the story being constructed. And the narrator keeps offering us his misleading takes on everything.

I wasn’t too worried, I thought it was a fun thing to play with. It is a dark comedy. I just kept finding ways to raise the stakes and bring in humour. Making him more and more unsympathetic and behaving terribly towards this woman and the people around him, but also making it all more and more absurd.

There’s no arc. To put it in the creative writing parlance, there’s no “learning.” He remains incorrigible?

I think there will be some by the end. I didn’t want a story of a terrible idiot who by the end of the book figures it all out and solves his problem. But he does become a little more self-aware. I think he recognizes why his behaviour towards Molly was wrong, and somewhat gets his delusions about writing, but it’s all very modest. He has worked through some issues by the end, in his own way.

The part where he’s trying to befriend a publisher’s underage son on Instagram so the kid can lobby his dad to give his manuscript a fair shake: Do we know people like this? Are writers self-obsessed narcissists to this degree?

A lot of writers are, though not to this extent. This isn’t based on anyone I know, and while I did borrow from some behaviours that I’ve seen in other people, it’s mostly based on the worst version of myself. Deep down I am like this or was, and that’s why I enjoy playing with this.

For example. Before my book of stories came out, I had this novel that I had written during my MFA. I was so proud of it. I thought it was a great work of art, the professors at the school all said kind things about it, I thought I’ll get this published and that’ll be the start of my career. Agent sent it out, no one wanted it. So I was just like the narrator: “I deserve success! Why isn’t anyone recognizing my genius?” Looking back now, I’m so glad that the novel didn’t come out. It was not good, I still had so much to learn. But there was a kind of jealousy towards other people who are having more success, this feeling that I wasn’t getting what I deserve. It was an ugly way to look at art and to put your art out in the world. That version of myself, but amped up, is what this character is.

He does hit on some truths about writing life. For example, that you have to work other jobs, unless you can rely on family or partner money. Tell me about some of the non-writing jobs that you’ve had.

I just cobble together littler contracts these days. I am currently teaching essay writing at TMU [Toronto Metropolitan University] and I also edit professors’ papers there. My teaching contract is about to run out, I have nothing lined up. I was working at Book City, for example. I have worked at Value Village, but as a much younger person. I worked in the back, where the people would drop off deliveries. My job was to tell everyone that we weren’t accepting any at that time.

Can writing be taught? Is he right about that?

Yes. I don’t think you can teach someone who has no talent or inclination by just showing them the rules, but you can guide people to find a better version of their writing. It worked for me. I had a natural interest – what’s in my writing now was there from the beginning, but I didn’t know how to express it. I’ve learned a lot from taking creative writing classes and reading creative writing guides. You have to learn not to take everything at face value though. Try to find what you can use for your specific needs. There are no universal rules. But some of that advice can help you abandon some bad habits and find the best version of what you’re trying to get out.

This interview has been condensed and edited.

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