Archive for April, 2020

You wait for ages for a post and then two come along at once. My blog, ‘The Landscape of Lockdown’ has been published on the comms2point0 site. You can read it here.

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Morning folks. It’s been a quarter of a year since I stopped by on this blog, but in these weird and worrying times I’ve found I’m putting pen to paper much more than I have in recent months and years. I’ve started out small. I’ve been doing some blogging, for example. But I’ve also been interviewed by my fantastic colleague, Jude Tipper (multi-award winning communicator, blogger and all round good egg). Jude’s apparently read 6.5 of my novels, which is good going. Apparently it’s the most she’s read by any writer. It’s also – probably – the most anyone’s read me, other than my parents. Anyway, thanks to Jude for teeing me up with some fantastic questions. Here goes:

  1. How do you start writing a novel? Do you have a complete story in your head before you begin?

That varies from book to book, but usually I like to have two or three very clear ideas and themes in my head before I start actually writing. I’m not a planner (though maybe I would be if I started writing a book now, given time pressures) but I do like some dots to have been joined before I set pen to paper. Actually that’s another point – I write short stories pen to paper but not novels. I write novels directly onto the laptop. I think this may explain why my short stories are more poetic than my novels. My recent blog on the landscape of lockdown was also written pen to paper, and that’s a good example of this poetic w*nkery coming through.

I must say that most of my novels have been directly after beach holidays. All that time and headspace I used to have, lying on a sun-lounger… Even when we do go on holiday now it ain’t that type of holiday: hence my six-year writers’ block?

2. How tempting is it to write people you know/have known into characters? Or are they all a bit of a mishmash of real life people and your imagination? And do you like writing the baddies best (I suspect you do!)?

Ha! Cunning question. Some of my characters most definitely have characteristics (be they verbal or physical tics or signature moves) which mirror real people. But by the same token I don’t make my characters totally reflective of real people. I don’t think there’s ever been a character in any of my work for whom a person could read it and say ‘hey! That’s me.’ Something happens to a person when you translate them onto the page. Literature changes them. I once did try and include someone I worked with – and hated – onto the page, but every time I wrote her she became a sympathetic character. Actually this helped me in my relationship with this person and in the end we wound up… well, not friends, but I certainly threw out my voodoo doll of her.

Also, some people are bigger than my words. My words would reduce them. I don’t think I could capture some of my best friends – the whole of them. They’re too interesting, too weird, too surprising. That’s why I’m friends with them in the first place.

3. How much of “you” is in the characters or the stories? For example, in Bully the hopelessness was palpable and was written in a way that, I think, only someone who had been bullied could capture. Am I right?

I went through a spell in secondary school of being bullied. One morning in the playground before lessons started I was punched so hard it broke my front tooth. For no reason whatsoever. I was just sitting there talking about football. It was a terrible, terrible time. Contrary to the stupid rhyme, it was the words which hurt the most, though.

That time passed, though at the time it seemed as though it would go on forever. Shamefully, I was also the bully at times too. I think that’s how I got over being bullied. I feel incredibly guilty about that. One of the people I bullied plucked up the courage to phone me up to tell me exactly how much it hurt and it took this incredible act of bravery for me to face up to the stupidity of what I was doing. I think I was trying to ‘win back’ the sense of masculinity I’d lost by being made to feel small by making someone else feel smaller still, which is just wrong on so many levels. I could say ‘but I was young’, but it ain’t an excuse. I think that’s why I do the random acts of kindness thing now. I’m still atoning.

4. There’s an underlying anger/pessimism in the tone of much of your writing (though, in the end, there’s usually some hope there too). Was it an intentional place to channel frustrations (once the bubble of youth and uni had popped!) or did it just happen that way? Or am I totally misreading and should accept that the man and his art are entirely separate?!

I think you’ve hit the nail on the head there. I suppose I raged at the dying of the light and really felt like I’d wasted a lot of my time and energy on the wrong things. I’d love to go back to university now – I’d throw myself into it heart and soul. My writing has allowed me to channel my frustrations. I must say, though, that my new career – working in the health sector in a big team, with loads of really talented people in it who I can learn from and bounce ideas off – has enabled me to be a lot more positive a person. I think if I were to write another novel now, I’d probably write it from the sunnier side of the street.

5. Do you actually believe in anything supernatural or is it just a genre you enjoy writing/reading?

No, I definitely don’t. But I love reading about it. I think writing and reading about the darker side of the street is a way of exploring big ideas and themes which are often difficult to tackle head on. It’s kind of getting at these things by stealth. My favourite writers are Stephen King and Paul Tremblay and I’d read anything they wrote, but sometimes I need to take a break between works of the supernatural just to make sure I don’t go too ‘way out west’.

Once when I was a kid I made up I’d seen a ghost. On the landing of my parents house, the house I grew up in, there’s a really odd painting which doesn’t fit in with any of the other artwork. The other artwork is mainly landscapes and seascapes. Places we’ve been on holiday. Or photos of friends and family. But this painting is of some rando person called Mrs. Bradyll. She’s giving out these strong ‘don’t mess with me’ vibes. I wanted to scare my sister so I told her one night in the wee small hours I’d got up to go to the loo and Mrs. Bradyll was creeping down the hall after me. She used to run past the painting after I told her that. And the funny thing was – I did too… For a while I kind of convinced myself she really was a ghost. So I suppose I was making up supernatural stories from a really early age. The effects can be very enjoyable.

6. If any of your books could be turned into a film, which would you choose? And who would you cast in the leading role(s)?

The one I’d really want to be turned into a film would be The Magpie Trap. It’s the first one I wrote and I think is probably the most filmic in quality. I think that book meant more to more people than some of my other books. I still get drunken emails from time to time from Rob Curtis, an old pal from home, asking me why I had to (spoiler alert) kill off Danny.

Also it would give me a chance to go out to Mauritius to scope out locations. (That being said I think Small Man Syndrome would make for the best film.)

As for the leading roles in The Magpie Trap, there’s three. I’d go for an unknown actor named Justin Brewer for one of the lads (he had a part as an extra in a period drama film once, true story). I’d also go for another unknown – Rob Curtis as Danny, seeing as though he likes him so much. We’d need a star too though, to boost ratings, so I’d probably ask my friend Ben Knight, who produced In Bruges, Three Billboards outside Epping, Missouri and the recent Emma, to rope in Brendan Gleeson. He’s completely the wrong age-bracket, but he’s my favourite actor. He’s absolutely brilliant in the Stephen King series Mr. Mercedes.

7. What book do you wish you’d written? Not just cos it was super successful and you’d now be mega rich but from the POV of plot line or literary device – eg the book within the book in Atonement.

Probably either American Psycho or The Stand, as they are my favourite books, and many people’s favourite books. That being said I think the idea behind Philip Pullman’s Northern Lights series – the daemons – is excellent. An idea strong enough to carry a whole series of books. There’s a framed print in my room of the film Kes, and I always look at it and think how the kestrel is Billy Casper’s daemon – it’s the imaginative, adventurous, otherworldly side of him – and I wonder if Philip Pullman had the same poster and he maybe used to stare at it and think… I could write a book about that. Anyway, I’m currently reading his most recent work, The Secret Commonwealth, and very much enjoying being subtly spirited off into a different world. Perhaps the oddest aspect of the book isn’t the animal/ daemon aspect now though; it’s people actually meeting up with each other, touching each other and the like. These strange days we’re living in, I now find it odd to even see crowds on TV…

8. Are you proud of yourself and your books? Any regrets?

I am proud that I’ve done it. It’s one ticked off the bucket list. I’m proud of my prodigious output, too, though maybe I should have spent more time on editing and polishing than I did. But that’s me: I’m always keen to move on to the next thing and the next exciting idea. I’m desperate to start writing properly again, but I’m not putting any pressure on myself. I’m starting out small, with blogs. I wrote on my experiences with Movember, and Dry January, and more recently my ‘Landscape of Lockdown’ post. Maybe I’ll work up a short story next. But, yeah, no pressure right now. I think, again, that my job helps. I’ve just been appointed into a temporary role at work and one of my responsibilities is handling the organisation’s strategic narrative. It’s storytelling, basically, and I love it.

9. If you could’ve been guaranteed to have made it as either an author or as a rock star, which would you have chosen?

Best question of the lot. I’ve ummed and aaahhed about this a lot. But I think I’d have to say author. I was a very lazy rock and roll ‘star’. I didn’t write any of the tunes when we were in the band (Magnetic Fishpond). Barely bothered to learn the words. And even at our low level of fame and fortune (once had an article published about us in the local rag; a few times actually earned real money for gigs; occasionally sold the place out) I had a tendency to live up to the rock and roll star stereotype. I drank far too much. Had an eye for the ladies far too much. If we’d ever have made it big I’d probably have been in and out of rehab most of my life.

Authors also have a bit of a bad rep for drinking too much too. But at least that’s behind closed doors so you can’t cause too much damage or trouble.

10. Do you have a notebook crammed with ideas that you never developed further? Do you still have new ideas? Would you ever write another novel?

I do. It’s in the top drawer of my bedside table. Occasionally I dig it out and wonder if I could work up one of the ideas inside. But then I feel a little tug at my sleeve (no, not a ghost – one of the kids) and I’m back in the real world again. Maybe when they’re older. Maybe when I have more time. Maybe when my career is settled a bit more than it is now (as I say: my current role is temporary). Stephen King would say that all of these are just excuses. I should just write. What am I afraid of? But as I say, I don’t want to put too much pressure on myself. I put too much pressure on myself in every aspect of my life and hence regularly disappoint myself: hence the pessimistic outlook of the books? So I’ll start off small and then one day – who knows? – maybe I’ll surprise myself.