Remembering how my novels began their life is always a problem. With Incident on the Line I wrote a paragraph, without knowing where it was going, likening life to a concertina, each event as the pleat of the bellows. Those particular events that are marked in your memory. At the same time I wanted to explore opening […]
Where did this come from? Did I see a couple, man and wife, sitting upright side by side, stiff Lego models in their camper van? I don’t remember, though the image, real or imagined, is where it started. Who were they and are they both happy? I thought not. What I do recall is sitting on the […]
This began with a newspaper cutting given to me by one of my writing friends, Henrietta Branford. It was the true story of a woman who had lived outside in her garden for years, shielded by umbrellas. It seemed that she died of old age rather than hyperthermia; no one knew why she had take […]
‘I wasn’t the first man to put a pillow over a woman’s face, even with love. … “I don’t want to live anymore, let me go!” That’s what I’d heard her say, my mother. When it was all over, I stood beneath the cherry tree, the blossom growing whiter as I watched, more glorious than […]
A romance is the genre claimed for ‘Mothering Sunday’ by Graham Swift, a novel which I’m reading for the third time prior to discussing at http://thespring.co.uk Book Group this month. Yes, it is a marvellous story of love but never borders on the sickly sweet, happy ending which I’ve always associated with that genre. I’ve avoided […]
Literary fiction has been in the news; concern that since the recession it has been particularly badly affected. There are also fears that things could get worse in the post-Brexit world. It is easy to see from the best seller lists that populist, genre fiction, is doing well, particularly promoted on Amazon with sales of […]
There is one prize that I don’t want to win – awarded each year for the worst sex scene in any novel. Mills and Boon for sticky romance, El James series starting with Fifty Shades of Grey which verge on porn, are to be avoided at all costs. Yet we all know how hard it […]
How many times have I done this? Left my characters high and dry. Total neglect. Two whole months we have been apart. I’ve thought of them when driving, that open space when the brain is intent on only one thing, the mechanics of getting from A to B. Then, I have made contact, remembered where […]
Val McDermid spoke these words when interviewing a fellow author on BBC 4 Front Row recently; ‘That’s what we authors do,’ she said, ‘plunder our own lives.’ And I was thrilled to hear her say this. For that is exactly what I do. Initially I was surprised as her novels are psychological thrillers, always featuring […]
Publishers employ whole departments to market their writers’ books – though I hear they are not as proactive as in the ‘olden days’. As an indie author none of this is available; we are on our own to promote our work Marketing is a skill learnt on degree courses. A science of psychology, knowing to […]
We all know that blissful moment of receiving a good review. Written on Amazon or Goodreads, or in some other publication, it is what writers crave. Or that pleasure might come from someone coming saying; ‘I really enjoyed that last book you wrote’. And even better, though not financially so; ‘I’ve lent it to … […]
I recently saw a stage version of ‘Goodnight Mr Tom’ by Michelle Magorian with my grandson, aged eight. A favourite novel which I read when it was published in 1981 so I had remembered that some of the story is bleak, including unpleasant revelations for a child his age. However I knew that the problems were […]
The tick of approval? And, of course, that is what the sign represents. ‘I like this; I approve; well done; pat on the back’. Those are the meanings which I used to understand the tick to say. Essays marked with ticks here and there were a boost to whatever writing had been completed. A quick […]
I recently saw a production of ‘Angels in America‘ at the National Theatre. An excellent play, subject matter, script, performances, which I remembered seeing many years ago. I could visualise the image of the angel, a huge white feathered creature spotlit at, I think, the end of the play. And that was the problem. Was […]