Source : the age
Matt Nable is quite the Renaissance man, having begun his career as a professional NRL player for Manly-Warringah Sea Eagles and South Sydney Rabbitohs, before becoming a national amateur boxing champion.
After retiring from sport in his 20s, he began writing a novel about the sporting world, and sought the advice of playwright and author Thomas Keneally, who mentored him. The Final Winter eventually became a screenplay for his debut film, in which he also starred – launching him as both writer and actor. These days he’s also a director and a bestselling author. With the recent release of his latest novel, Mire, Nable says if it wasn’t for Keneally, he wouldn’t be enjoying the multifaceted career he has today. “That conversation,” he says, “changed my life.”
Worst habit?
I have a few. But probably being a noisy eater. At least that’s what my wife and daughter tell me. It really annoys them. And an internal habit that drives me crazy is that I can fixate on something, and it plays on a loop in my head – really frustrating when you’re trying to move forward and be productive. Over the years, I have gotten better at shutting down that noise and letting go. But every now and then, it still bites me.
Greatest fear?
Losing one of my children. Beyond that, I can’t see anything to be afraid of that matters. There’s fear around certain things that I would consider irrational fears; I don’t like spiders or snakes, sharks I have a healthy fear of, but none of those keep me up at night. Losing a child does. I think all parents feel that way. I used to fear death. That’s completely gone. I don’t quite know why that it is, but I’m not afraid of dying. I was a horribly affected Catholic boy, to a point I was in some constant manner of guilt. It was exhausting. I was going to hell for everything. When I turned, and I turned hard, I had no fear of where I’d go when I died. So maybe that’s how I got to where I am now.
The line that has stayed with you?
“The people that matter, are the people that believe you matter … and tomorrow is never promised.” My brother passed away with MND in March 2024. And when he was diagnosed, and because there is no cure, he had that quote tattooed on his arm. It was a stark reminder that we are all just here without any idea of what’s coming and how long we have left. I now have the same tattoo. In February last year I did a psilocybin retreat, which for me was profound – confronting but enlightening. One of the great understandings I got from the experience was the people who matter are the people who believe you matter. And that’s where my attention, my time and my love need to be directed.
Biggest regret?
Not being more present when my kids were smaller. I’m envious of parents when I see them with their small kids. It just went so fast. I yearn for those moments now, I cherish the memories. I look at photos all the time … I was far too self-involved back then. If I could run into my younger self, I’d give him a good clip behind the ear, and tell him to pay attention to what’s going on right before him.
Tell us about your turning point
I had written a manuscript and had given it to Thomas Keneally. He’s a mad Manly fan, and somehow remembered me when I’d played there. He read it, and told me that I should continue writing. I did. And 12 months later he read my next effort. It took a while for him to get back to me, but he called one day, and he said, “Son, this is what you should be doing, and I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t believe it because it would be immoral of me.” I literally quit the job I was doing a week later. If not for Tommy and what he’d said, I’m not doing any of this. Not writing, not acting … I don’t know where I’d be.
The artwork or song you wish was yours?
I have great respect and a love of songwriters who are able to tell vivid stories in short pieces of language. John Mellencamp, Billy Joel – they have the ability to give enormous texture through words mixed with the music. You can taste and smell where they’re talking about, and you can feel the people in the centre of the composition. I’d love to be able to do that. I started playing guitar in 2002, and I really am not very good. I got to a level and just kind of stayed there. So, I tried to write a few songs – and it was just awful. I quickly packed that up and got back in my own lane.
If you could time travel, where would you choose to go?
The future is kind of scary to me. I’m not technological, so I fear I’d be redundant somewhere in the not-too-distant future. Perhaps to when I was a young boy, with my family bouncing around army barracks. As I said, I lost my youngest brother in 2024. We were all together back then. They were much simpler times, and we were all so happy. I’ve written about those memories to some degree in every novel that’s been published. There are moments while writing that are of real joy, and sometimes sadness. And then [I’d go] to a time when all my children were younger.
Mire (Hachette) by Matt Nable is out now.
