Writing historical fiction - Sue Purkiss

It's an interesting thing, writing historical fiction. I've written several books in this genre: one set in the 9th century, one in the early 19th, and one in the mid 19th - plus there are two yet-to-be published books set in the Second World War.

There are practical reasons for writing books set in the past. For one thing, you don't have to grapple with modern technology - if you're writing in the present, and your hero/heroine is stuck up a mountain or has missed the last bus, you can easily - too easily - extricate him/her by means of a quick text or phone call. On the other hand, you know your context - the world of your story. Whereas I remember when I was writing Warrior King - about Alfred the Great and his daughter, I'd been researching for months, if not years. Finally, I came to the point where I was actually ready to start writing my story. In the first chapter, Alfred reaches for a drink. But what would he be drinking out of? A goblet made of metal? Wood? What? Or would it be a cup? And later, someone serves cakes (no, not THOSE cakes!). What would they cakes be made of? No sugar around then - honey, perhaps? What would make them rise? Or would they just be flat?

And then, of course, there's finding out, as far as possible, the truth about what was happening in your chosen period. Of course, the closer to the present you're looking at, the more information there is available. With Jack Fortune, for instance, which is about a plant hunter and his young nephew who set off for the Himalayas, I found online a detailed journal written by Joseph Hooker about his own adventures doing the same thing. Hurrah! But then that all gets complicated. You have access to how a person of that time perceived the world - but nowadays, looking through the lens of a 21st century view of imperialism, and recognising that Hooker's thrilling adventures were carried out in the sevice of the Empire with all that that entails - well, do you write from the point of view of a person of his/her time, or do you take account of a contemporary view of the same issues and actions?

And then there's the language. Do you try to approximate to the language as it was spoken in the time period of your story? If you're writing about the Elizabethan era, do you scatter your dialogue with 'thees' and 'thous' and the occasional 'Odds bodykins, forsooth'? To me, that's a no-brainer. If you're wrting about the 9th century, they would all have been speaking Anglo-Saxon, or some variant of it. So of course, your dialogue has to be in modern English. But it's not as simple as that. You have to avoid modern slang, obviously; you have to attempt to get the right sort of register for the person who's speaking - Alfred, for instance, will speak differently to a shepherd. Well, probably... So much to think about.

What's set all this off? Well, I've just read Ken Follett's latest book, which is about the building of Stonehenge and is called The Circle of Days. So it's set several thousand years BCE.

Now, I've been fascinated for a very long time by the era of prehistory. In particular, I'm intrigued by the cave paintings of south west France. They are so beautiful, so sensitively done - and how does this square with the version of the Stone Age that I was taught in school, with brutish early humans struggling to survive and engaged in a constant struggle with nature and with each other? Well, it doesn't of course, and that view of the distant past is being constantly revised. But when you start to write conversations between people of that era - how do you do it? How complex was their language - were their thoughts? Did they have similar notions about relationships to us - and about so many other things, like loyalty, friendship, duty, community?

So I found Follett's book interesting in terms of how he dealt with such issues. I'm still mulling it over - but I'm certainly impressed by the confidence and imagination with which he re-creates a world about which, really, we know very little. It's interesting that he uses very simple language and short sentences throughout - is that a nod to a simpler time?

As L P Hartley famously said, 'The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.' But how different,  really, in terms of what people were like, was the past? It's an interesting question - I think! - and one to which there are no easy answers.

BBC Maestro - Sue Purkiss

 

Ken Follett

A few weeks ago, I noticed an ad with a special offer for the BBC Maestro courses. Now, I like a good course. It's always interesting to hear other writers talking about their craft, and I find there's always something to learn.

So I investigated. The courses aren't just about writing - they cover all sorts of other topics too, such as painting, well-being, music, script-writing - but these were the ones I was interested in. I decided to look at Ken Follett. If you haven't come across him, Ken (I feel we are good friends now, so I'm sure he won't mind if I call him Ken) is a writer of hugely popular historical fiction and thrillers. You can click on any of the couses and see a trailer, and I liked the sound of Ken's course, so I decided to buy it. The offer price was £47.40 for 22 lessons/six hours, which seemed to me extremely reasonable compared to what you would pay for any real-life course. 

And I have found it absolutely brilliant. I think one of the main standouts is that, despite the fact that Ken has clearly made enough from his writing to retire several times over, he's still absolutely passionate  about it. He loves writing, and he works really hard at it. Of course, now, he can afford to pay researchers, and also has a vast network of very useful contacts and a very supportive publisher - but he still puts in the hours and the work, typically taking about three years to write one of his epics. The research takes a long time: he doesn't specialise in one period, so often, he's starting from scratch - he ranges from the Vikings to nuclear war. 

I had read a few of his books a while ago, but I've read a lot more since watching the course. Even if these are not the type of fiction you normally read (he is entirely upfront about the fact that he is not writing literary fiction: he wants to write books that lots of people will want to read - and that will, incidentally, become bestsellers and make him lots of money), you will, if you're anything like me, find yourself unable to stop turning the pages. And he tells you just how he does this - he is very generous in the way he shares what he has learnt over many years. Of course, it's a very different thing writing a vast historical epic with a large cast of characters and many interweaving stories, as opposed to a very much shorter book for children, but still, there's a lot of carryover.

Having thoroughly enjoyed listening to Ken, I discovered that for another £36 I could have access to all of the courses for a year. So I followed up Ken with Jojo Moyes - also a delight, and so generous in sharing her expertise - and then with Lee Child. (I'm taking longer over Lee Child. To be honest, I find him slightly scary. Especially after reading some of the books.) Malorie Blackman awaits, also Harlan Coban and many others - I have my eye on a storytelling course, and also one on public speaking.

What emerges from all the ones I've listened to so far is a) how hard they all work, and b) how different their processes are. Lee Child, for instance, works in an utterly different way from Ken: Ken is a planner, Lee Child is - not. For one the story is paramount, for another it's the characters. Lee Child is particularly interesting on language: he considers every word: the weight of it, the sound of it, the meaning of it. 

I may not be about to write a multi-million selling adult novel of my own (though you never know, you never know...), but I have found these courses invigorating and, yes - inspiring. But for now, as they all point out, you don't get anywhere unless you get on with it. So - er - off I go to do just that. Although I might just listen to one or two more lessons first. And there is the washing to get out of the tumble dryer - and maybe it's time for another coffee...