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Interview Overview

In this episode of The Writer’s Chair, Daniel Willcocks welcomes writer, filmmaker and Hawke & Cleaver co-founder Luke Kondor for a candid, funny and surprisingly grounded conversation about what ten years in publishing really teaches you.

Rather than chasing tactics, the pair circle one core truth: writing is still just sitting down and writing, no matter how much technology, noise and “industry advice” tries to complicate it. Luke shares how returning to a simple early-morning routine (and focusing on depth of immersion rather than word counts) helped him reconnect with the work, while Dan reflects on the different seasons of a writing life — the energetic early years, the commercial grind, the collapse, and the slow climb back to stability and joy.

Along the way, they unpack the tension between art and commerce, how outlining can create freedom (or restriction) depending on the writer, and why confidence is often less about talent and more about refusing to talk yourself out of the work before you’ve begun. It’s an honest behind-the-scenes chat between long-time collaborators about momentum, mindset and the long game — capped off with a quickfire round that goes exactly as you’d expect when Luke’s running on brain fog.

Interview Transcript

Daniel Willcocks:

Welcome back, wordsmiths and story seekers. I’m your host, Daniel Willcocks, broadcasting from the shadowy halls of Devil’s Rock HQ. Tonight, I’m ecstatic to share the writer’s chair with the authorial powerhouse that is Luke Kondor.

Luke is a writer, filmmaker, and one of the twisted minds behind The Other Stories — the award-winning horror fiction podcast with over 12 million downloads and a monthly audience of more than 150,000 listeners. He’s also a co-founder of the independent story studio Hawke & Cleaver, where he helps bring weird, scary, unforgettable tales to life.

His work spans books, games, films and comics, including the bizarro novel My Dog Shits Cash, the interactive story You’re Die, and the short film Keith, which won Best Low Budget Film at the London Short Film Festival. His projects have earned Vimeo Staff Picks and features in Time Out, AV Club, Cosmopolitan, and more — all somehow crafted from a dining room table in various locations.

Alright, Luke — you can say hello now.

Luke Kondor:

Hey. It’s time to say hello.

Ten Years In Publishing

Daniel Willcocks:

This is going to be a fun conversation because the whole theme of this episode is the fact that we’ve now passed our ten-year milestone in writing and publishing. We’ve had a long journey together — writing books, running podcasts, doing all sorts — but we couldn’t even remember when we last sat down for an interview. I think it was probably about two years ago on Activated Authors.

Tell us a bit about your first books.

Luke Kondor:

My first book was written after we met and started hanging out digitally. That was 2015 — exactly ten years ago now. I’ve written ten books in ten years, which feels weird to say out loud.

So much has changed. We’ve got proof of life on Mars, android home assistants, AI that actually works — and somehow all of that feels mundane compared to finishing a book. Finishing a book is still the most satisfying thing in the world.

The Simplicity of Writing

Daniel Willcocks:

That’s one of the big lessons I wrote about recently — writing never really changes. At its core, writing is just sitting in a chair and writing.

We’ve got ChatGPT, Grammarly, ProWritingAid, all these tools — but it still boils down to that one act. And yet I still find myself distracted, chasing shortcuts, thinking there must be an easier way. Then every few months I remember: no, this is it.

Luke Kondor:

Yeah. When you start out, you think everything else will help your writing — a blog, a podcast, a side project. Most of the time, those become their own things and your writing suffers.

With The Other Stories, I realised I didn’t want to just become a publisher. I enjoy it, but the goal was always writing books. At the start of this year I forced myself back to basics: up at 6am, writing for an hour before the day starts. That’s what I did ten years ago — and somehow I’d forgotten.

Writing Time as a Gift

Luke Kondor:

That hour is now the part of the day I look forward to most. No notifications. Phone on focus mode. Music on. A pot of tea. Just losing myself.

I don’t track word counts anymore. I track how deep I was in the session. If I lost myself completely, it was a good day. And honestly? I’m writing more, and better, than ever.

Daniel Willcocks:

That resonates hard. Word counts are useful as a surface-level metric, but a thousand words can mean anything — junk you’ll delete, or something artistically satisfying.

You used to track word counts religiously. What changed?

Writing Forwards

Luke Kondor:

I still track yearly output, but some of my most productive years were also the ones where I hated what I wrote. It felt like busy work.

So this year I adopted a mantra: write forwards. I actually wrote it down.

Writing forwards means momentum. Writing backwards is stopping, obsessing, waiting for permission, endlessly tweaking commas, or curling up in a ball while the world moves on.

Rewriting can be writing forwards — but only if it’s actually moving the book forward. Writing forwards is about protecting momentum.

Art vs Commerce

Daniel Willcocks:

One thing I’ve always admired about your work is how yours it is. My path leaned heavily into commercial writing — co-writing, ghostwriting, earning income. I learned a lot, but the books I’m proudest of are the ones written purely for myself.

Your work always feels like it came from a specific emotional place.

Luke Kondor:

I actually went the opposite way for a while. I tried to impress people. I wanted certain creators to approve of my work — which is absurd, because they’d never read it anyway.

I stopped being honest about my tastes. I think that’s deadly. You have to be brutally honest about what you actually love — not what’s trendy, not what sells.

Even success can feel hollow if it’s built on something you don’t enjoy.

Finding Your Voice

Daniel Willcocks:

New writers always ask, “How do I find my voice?” I compare it to learning music. At first, you imitate. You play scales. You mimic Bach, the Beatles, Stephen King. Then slowly, your voice emerges.

My early work was very Stephen King-ish because I was literally reading him before every session. Over time, I became more confident — pacing, atmosphere, interiority.

Now I lean into the metaphysical, the emotional, the close camera inside a character’s head.

Luke Kondor:

That’s exactly it. You absorb what works, discard what doesn’t. Every horror writer starts by trying to write like Stephen King — and recreate his career — but that world doesn’t exist anymore.

Voice comes from repetition and honesty, not strategy.

Plotting vs Pantsing

Daniel Willcocks:

I’m a loose planner. I know my protagonist, antagonist, flaw, and ending — then I explore. Over-planning kills my joy.

Luke Kondor:

I’m the opposite now. I’m a massive outliner — 15,000-word outlines. That structure gives me freedom inside scenes. Without it, I overthink everything.

It’s all about whatever lets you lose yourself in the work.

Finishing Drafts and Confidence

Daniel Willcocks:

I always tell writers: finishing is everything. The moment I finished my first unpublished novel, I knew I could do it again.

Confidence doesn’t come from talent — it comes from finishing.

Luke Kondor:

Exactly. I’ve been in rooms with wildly confident people who maybe shouldn’t be — and they succeed because they believe in themselves.

Low confidence becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Even false confidence gives you a better chance than none at all.

Life, Chaos and Creativity

Daniel Willcocks:

There were years where my life collapsed and my productivity stopped. Writing The Nowhere Line saved me — it became therapy.

It’s easier to write when life is stable. That sounds obvious, but it matters.

Luke Kondor:

Absolutely. If you’re struggling to survive, creativity is hard. That’s Maslow’s hierarchy in action.

I recently finished a draft and physically crashed — dizziness, brain fog, exhaustion. Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is rest.

Grace matters.

Joy as the Goal

Daniel Willcocks:

When Rob and I planned Twisted Tales, the biggest word we wrote down was joy. Enjoyment makes everything easier.

Luke Kondor:

Jordan Peele said it best — people forget that writing should be enjoyable. If you don’t enjoy it, maybe it’s not for you. That’s okay.

Write what only you can write.

Quickfire Round

Daniel Willcocks:

First thing you do when you wake up?

Luke Kondor:

Coffee.

Daniel Willcocks:

Favourite horror film?

Luke Kondor:

The Thing.

Daniel Willcocks:

Hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck?

Luke Kondor:

Duck-sized horses. Easy.

Daniel Willcocks:

Dream job as a kid?

Luke Kondor:

Pilot or firefighter.

Daniel Willcocks:

Current earworm?

Luke Kondor:

King Krule — K-Pop Demon Hunters soundtrack.

Daniel Willcocks:

Zombie apocalypse — first shop?

Luke Kondor:

Boots.

Daniel Willcocks:

Favourite city?

Luke Kondor:

Sofia, Bulgaria.

Daniel Willcocks:

Worst habit?

Luke Kondor:

Biting my nails.

Daniel Willcocks:

Most creative time?

Luke Kondor:

6–7am.

Daniel Willcocks:

One book you’d recommend?

Luke Kondor:

Books of Blood by Clive Barker.

Closing

Daniel Willcocks:

Luke, I genuinely appreciate you — as a friend, collaborator, and creative companion. Our early conversations shaped my writing life more than you know.

Luke Kondor:

Right back at you. You’re genuinely great at this.

Daniel Willcocks:

That’s a wrap. Thank you for joining me on The Writer’s Chair. And to you listening — write bravely and dream dark.