A Conversation
with Julian Ramirez

Gina Nutt: “Sandcastles” follows a narrator on vacation with his partner’s family. He’s waiting for the perfect moment to ask for his father-in-law’s permission to propose. What inspired you to write about these circumstances and this narrator? What about family vacation lends itself to storytelling?
Julian Ramirez: I recently asked my girlfriend to marry me. From the moment we started dating, I knew I would marry her. It was only a matter of timing, finding a ring, etc. The knowledge that I would marry her was not heavy. It was actually light and freeing. Any anxiety I had was centered around interpersonal moments like letting her parents know my intentions with their daughter or actually asking her the question. These moments have to be significant but not a production. It’s a fine line.

I was actually on a beach vacation with her family when the line, ‘my father-in-law buried me in the sand’ popped into my head. From there, the story took shape. The brevity of the story and the tone of the language came from the fact that I wanted to write something that I could read aloud.   

I once tried to write four interconnected stories entitled four stories about vacation. It’s something I’ve been playing with since 2017. It’s a bit bigger than four stories at this point but I think the inspiration still stands. Vacation is such a strange time. The distance puts routine life into perspective.

GN: Most of the story’s interactions take place between the narrator and father-in-law, while the other family members are elsewhere. Can you tell me a bit about how you decided on this approach? Why was this framework the most fitting? 
JR: I wanted it to be a fairly short story so I needed to limit the characters as much as possible. In a way, the story is about two men who both love the same woman although in very different ways. They know they’ll have to share her and allow space for each other in their lives now. They are familiar but they’re not yet family. I thought there was more than enough fertile ground between these two characters to write an interesting story.

GN: I’m curious, how did the narrator awaiting this moment influence the story’s interior moments, the kaleidoscope of memories that emerge? 
JR: There’s a sense from the narrator that asking his girlfriend’s family for their blessing is the first step towards a new life. It’s almost like making a New Year’s resolution. You gotta reflect on the past to figure out what you want from the future. There’s also claustrophobic panic and the strangeness of intimacy with new people. Really puts the brain into overdrive.

GN: What’s in your creative mosaic? Books, music, restaurants, films, visual art, fashion, ephemera, architecture, anything that energizes your writing.
JR: A lot of my favorite writing acts as either a standard of quality or as permission to do something a little different. The best stuff absolutely blows my mind and calls everything into question. Two great examples would be The Door by Magda Szabó and Light Years by James Salter.

I listen to a lot of ambient music and I want my sentences to be as resonant and evocative as the wash of sound you hear on a Fennesz song. I’m getting into woodworking and the precision of joinery is pretty inspiring. You also can’t erase what you’ve done, which is humbling. I play in a post punk band and the act of rehearsal, figuring out a riff, arranging a song, etc. is hugely informative to writing.  

Walking and biking around NYC slightly stoned is also key. The city is so dense. You see so much in such a short distance.