Showing posts with label Stephen King. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stephen King. Show all posts

Friday, 15 March 2024

Writing process health warning: Here Be Metaphors – by Rowena House






Metaphors. They’re great, right? Our first port of call when grappling with complexity.

Soz, but seriously...

How can we describe something as multifaceted as our writing processes without resorting to metaphor? My favourite: writing techniques are tools in a toolbox (Stephen King) which we select at need; as we develop as writers, we build up our available toolkit.

Brilliant. However...

This past month I’ve been looking back at my own process/es and found King’s confident, positive toolbox metaphor more of a comfort blanket than a guiding light [soz, again] since the idea we can confidently grasp the right tool at the right moment demands a) total recall and b) an extraordinary level of objectivity about our own creative practice.

For example, the lens that focussed my debut novel more than any other was defining a binary question to create a spine for the story and keep it on track. (No more apologies, okay, I’m just gonna let the mixing rip.) For The Good Road, that question was: ‘Will Angelique save the family farm for her brother, yes/no?’ At the end of every scene, ‘saving the farm’ was more or less likely. The yes/no question = a perfect guiding light, maintaining coherence and linearity throughout 80K words.

[Apologies to whichever writing guru came up with this binary question storytelling technique. Your name is lost in time to me, but the idea is very much appreciated.]

With the seventeenth-century witch trial work-in-progress, however, I wasted months trying to define such a question and years worrying that I couldn’t – did I have an actual story or nothing more than a dreaded situation? The horror! – then, this week, HUZZAH, a get out of gaol card was delivered by George Saunders straight into my inbox.

As it’s free advice from his public ‘Office Hours’ emails, I’ll quote it freely, too. FYI, I think it will be well worth subscribing to his full Substack and plan to do so when cash is less strapped. [How is cash strapped?] Link below.

Anyway, here he is. How to get out of the self-imposed prison of one's own writing process:

‘Sometimes my ideas about my writing don’t work for me either and have to be scrapped or re-understood. And I really mean that. No matter how confidently I talk about some writing-related concept, they’re all just metaphors.

‘Likewise, when someone offers up a writing metaphor, even if it’s a good one, and rings a bell for us – it’s not the thing itself. It’s not the state one is actually in, when revising well... Reality is reality and concepts are concepts: inadequate word-wrappings, generated out of need, always insufficient.’

If the current method isn’t working, move on, he says. Writing techniques must serve the work; if you’re stuck, if the work isn’t working, then maybe you’ve become a slave to your own – or someone else’s – technique.

‘Part of our job as artists is to always be asking: “Is the metaphor (method) I’m currently using still actually helping me?”

‘How do we know?

‘Well, I try to ask myself, now and then (openly, honestly): “Am I making progress? (Is the work, roughly speaking, longer and better than it was three months ago? Or, even: is it, though shorter than it was three months ago, is it better?)”

What fabulous, practical advice. Thank you, Mr Saunders. 

As I’m pushed for time [?] again, I’ll stop now, but here’s the link to subscribe to George Saunders’ Story Club. It’s £40 pa or £5 a month for full access, with a free option for his regular public posts.

https://georgesaunders.substack.com/subscribe?utm_source=email&utm_campaign=email-subscribe&r=j482m&next=https%3A%2F%2Fgeorgesaunders.substack.com%2Fp%2Foffice-hours-a9c&utm_medium=email



@HouseRowena X/Twitter

Rowena House Author on FB

Lots about The Goose Road on rowenahouse.wordpress.com





Tuesday, 15 November 2022

A chart-maker’s tale – by Rowena House



According to the ABBA blog counter, this article seems to be my seventieth on this site. Almost enough words to turn into a book! A vanity project masquerading as a chronicle of real-world (and, originally, as near as possible real-time) dispatches from the creative writing front. It would take a lot of editing, but maybe one day, Meanwhile, thank you to ABBA for being an enduring writerly space.

Over the years I’ve learned enormous amounts from fellow contributors about the ups and downs of a writing life, about books and writers I’d never heard of, about pitfalls of our trade, and listened in on important debates within the world of publishing.

Thinking about a subject for my own blog each month has become an important part of my writing process, forcing me to stop and reflect, to fathom out and record an element of the fitful evolution of Book Two.

One conclusion I’ve drawn from all of this is the value of metaphor as a means to understand what’s going on and also, often, to express whatever I’m trying to say.

The best all-encompassing metaphor I’ve come across for our craft is Stephen King’s ‘toolbox’ of skills, devices and ways of thinking available to us as writers; how better to conceptualize an otherwise bewildering range of choices?

This month I made a mini breakthrough with my own metaphorical thinking about plot and character development. It is rather tortured and provisional, but time is short so I’m leaving it as the long version for now. It’ll probably get edited down into a sentence. Anyhow, here we go…






Once upon a time a chart-maker decided to join a ship sailing for a little-known shore. The chart-maker had dreamed of this country for a long while, months, in fact, or was it years? Now, though, this country felt knowable and reachable, even though it was a long way away. With ample supplies of coffee and tea, chocolate, wine and cake, plus parchment, pencils and ink, they set sail on a spring tide.

As the ship approached its destination, the land beyond the shoreline looked strange and forbidding, its forests impenetrable, but this was a chart in the making, not a map, so the ship travelled along the coast so the chart-maker could see it well enough to draw. Then other mariners could follow their route from beginning to end.

At first the chart-maker worried about these other mariners – would they understand the intricacies of the chart and its beautiful twistiness? – and lost sleep imagining them hating the chart, until at last he-she decided these other people were far away and hard to imagine and could be forgotten about.

The chart-maker settled down to draw.

It was hard work and frustrating. The ship was sailed by an odd crew and a troubled captain, who took them up and down the shoreline, sometimes coming within sight of land, at others times taking them far out to sea. Nevertheless, haphazardly, in fits and starts, the chart-maker recognised the shapes of peninsulas and make sense of the inlets and islands, the sandbanks and reefs.

The captain, it turned out, steered by a compass, an instrument he displayed to the crew, but in the quiet of the night, without anyone knowing (except for the chart-maker who spied on them all) she-he used a star chart to navigate by. But there were faults in these stars, faults the captain knew nothing about, and when they were discovered, insisted nothing could be done to fix them.

The chart-maker watched the captain making mistakes and growing angry, and the ship going off course and running aground, and everyone shaking their fists at the stars. Back and forth they went, up and down, in and out, until a storm (which they all knew had to come) forced the captain to mend his-her ways.

And, Oh! After the storm, the chart-maker saw the coastline clearly. Clearly enough to draw it in bold lines, clearly enough for others to follow them all the way to a harbour that the chart-maker knew from the start would be there but hadn't known how to find.



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Monday, 24 October 2022

IF YOU CAN DO IT FOR JOY, PUBLISHING TIPS FROM STEPHEN KING, by Saviour Pirotta

Like many teenagers who discovered adult books in the late 1970s, I was an avid horror fan.  Guy Masterson, William Peter Blatty, David Seltzer, Dean Koontz, Frank de Filitta; we waited for their books with bathed breath. But the undisputed top of the heap was Stephen King. We had no access to publishing news in those days, so I would drop by my local bookshop on a weekly basis, hoping to see his latest bestseller (and it was always a bestseller) on the shelves.

Egged on by Brian de Palma's film adaptation, the first Stephen King book I read was Carrie. It was also the first book I read which was a collection of letters, reports and diary entries. (I hadn't yet read the original Bram Stoker's Dracula, only the Bancroft Classics abridged version). I was hooked. As Mr. King's books grew in scope, so did my enthusiasm for his writing. I read The Stand and The Shining over and over again.



My fervour for Mr. King's writing ran aground with Rose Madder. By now I had moved to England. Lured away from horror by more diverse writing discovered at Shepherds Bush library, I just couldn't get into it. And I've never read another horror book since. I still regard Stephen King as a master of his genre, though. Of any genre, really. On Writing is still my go to book when I need a refresher course on plotting and, over the years, I have amassed quite a collection of Stephen King writing tips. Here are my favourites, and how I interpret them, in no particular order:

1. IDEAL READER

Always write for one reader, whom you must keep in mind through the writing process. Stephen King calls him/her IDEAL READER. For me, it's Rosemary Sutcliff, who I imagine sitting beside me, nodding enthusiastically when I get something right and shaking her head sadly when she's not so sure. She's at my elbow all through my writing time, whether I'm chained to my desk or tapping away at my laptop in Espresso Yourself. I even read out loud to her (when I'm at home, obviously, not when I'm in a cafe. That would be weird.)

2. WHAT IF

The most interesting situations can be expressed as a What if? question. I tend to use this a lot, even when I have the plot all worked out. I still keep asking the question. I find it takes me up interesting alleys and along side roads I did not consider first time round.

3. THE CHARACTERS, THE EVENT

A good story always ends up being about the people rather than the event. The characters are what we remember. Can I call the plot to Great Expectations to mind? Only vaguely. What first springs to mind when I hear the title to Dicken's masterpiece is Miss Havisham in her tattered wedding gown, sitting at a wedding table covered in rotting food.

4. 3 PARTS

A story has three parts.

NARRATION, which moves the story from point to point, from event to event.

DESCRIPTION, which creates a sensory experience for the reader.

DIALOGUE, which brings the characters to life through their words.

I think this is one of Mr King's most important writing tips. I write the three words on three different coloured sticky notes and stick them to the side of my screen, moving them up every time I use one of them to make sure they keep abreast of each other.

5 And, finally, a tip (I'm so tempted to use the word 'hack' but I won't, I won't) we should keep in mind through the ups and downs of being published authors.

IF YOU CAN DO IT FOR JOY, YOU CAN DO IT FOREVER.


The Crocodile Curse, Saviour Pirotta's second book in The Nile Adventures series is out from Maverick now.  Otter-Barry Books have reissued his picture book classic Turtle Bay.

Follow Saviour on Twitter @spirotta and on TikTok @saviour_pirotta. His tag on Instagram is saviour2858. 



 


Monday, 18 February 2019

Back to the Bronze Age - by Lu Hersey


Most writers do a lot of research of one kind or another – in fact we can be quite a nerdy bunch. Having just spent an intensive period in a future, post climate change world, looking into plant and animal species that survive desert conditions and working out how to keep people alive through periods of intense heat and drought, I’ve recently taken a quick break in the Bronze Age. 
 
My replica Bronze Age dagger after a bit of filing

Research can be fun. Sometimes more fun than writing. Writing Deep Water involved a lot of time snorkelling over Cornish seas, studying the sea-life, watching the way the light reflects underwater. Hours. Days. Probably way longer than I needed to. I also visited Fowey Aquarium frequently, communing with the conger eel, watching the pollock swim, and admiring the massive blue lobster. It felt like an essential part of the process… but was it actually just a form of procrastination?

My research for Broken Ground (hopefully out early next year) meant spending hot summer days and even late summer nights in crop circles, wondering at the immensity and complexity of design. Hours of watching water bubbling up in springs. Yes, of course I’ve heard of google – but give me an excuse to do some live research, and I’m there.

Entering a crop circle at twilight

Which is how I came to spend a day earlier this month making a replica Bronze Age dagger. Okay, none of the characters in my current work in progress are actually dagger makers, but after a lethargic, bleak January, I wanted to (literally) fire some energy back into my writing.

stylishly dressed ready for hot metal pouring

Creating something beautiful and potentially useful sounded just the thing to get me started. Not only that, the course was run by an archaeologist who brought finds of Neolithic polished axes and arrow heads with him, as well as a bronze age torc bracelet – AND WE WERE ALLOWED TO PICK THEM UP AND FEEL THEM! For someone like me, that’s close to being in heaven.

Making the mould for the dagger

The process of creating our moulds, using bellows to heat the furnace to an intense, copper-melting temperature, and pouring the liquid metal was almost magical. (In case you’re nerdy enough to be wondering, you add the tin when the copper has already melted – tin melts much faster)

Furnace hot enough to melt copper and tin to make bronze

And the work that goes in when the metal cools down is so much more than I expected – a good few hours of intensive filing, hammering the blade edge, and sanding with glass paper. The result? A rather imperfect, pitted specimen that still needs work – but an invaluable piece of research. Er, probably.

All this research activity may well be stopping me from becoming a Stephen King, who famously just keeps his bum on his seat and writes - and I have to admit he's considerably more productive and successful than me. But sometimes the joy of doing something different can be inspirational in itself.

As writers we spend so many hours, days, weeks, months and even years creating a story, I can really recommend doing something practical for a change. Making something physical, tangible – possibly even useful. Not just a world in your head.

Anyway, not everyone can be Stephen King.

Lu Hersey
twitter: @LuWrites
Some photos courtesy of Laura Daligan and Esther Winckles
Bronze Age dagger making course held at Berrycroft Hub with archaeologist James Dilley

Tuesday, 23 October 2018

A Chat with Martin Stewart by Steve Gladwin

#
I'm very happy this month to be able to talk to Martin Stewart about his two very different books, Riverkeep and The Sacrifice Box. I like to see it as a wide-ranging chat, rather than just an interview, in which we discuss things like the mundane nature of horror, our influences and a great deal more besides. I hope you enjoy the chat with Martin as much as I did. 




Never Come To the Box Alone

Steve. First Martin, thanks for agreeing to chat and tell myself and readers of this blog something about you and your books.

Martin. Steve, it's a pleasure. 
.
Steve. So, Marty, this all started when I picked up your book in the YA section of my local library. It was the cover and title that got me first, then after that the Stephen King quote and the premise. I hadn’t been doing much YA reading until recently, so you sort of started something.

Martin I’m glad that the cover hooked you in. That’s the big hope. It’s always good discovering things for yourself.

My main influences. It always comes back to Pullman. I read Northern Lights when I was twenty one, which made a huge impression, and I notice that you picked up on that.

Steve. Interestingly enough, although I saw that on your website, when I read Riverkeep it was La Belle Sauvage which I thought of more – I suppose it was the whole river quest and the age of the characters and the idea that the river can lead anywhere – into danger or salvation, but always in the direction of some new goal or adventure. It’s immediately a very adult book.

Martin. La Belle Sauvage was released a couple of years after Riverkeep, so its interesting how elements of my story, so influenced by the ‘His Dark Materials’ trilogy, are echoed in La Belle Sauvage. But like those books,
Riverkeep was never a book just for children. If it has an ideal target audience I would say that it would be me at the age of eleven. A strong eleven year old reader, but that wouldn’t exclude adults.

Steve. You also mentioned to me that Terry Pratchett was a great influence and the Discworld books in particular.

Martin. I read a great many when I was younger and still love them. If I had expected to write any kind of book, it would have been something like Discworld. That would have been a natural kind of fit for me. Those books have a kind of agelessness.

Steve. And of course appeal equally to both adults and children.

Martin. Certainly. I suppose apart from Pullman and Pratchett, my other influences are more Gothic than actual horror; things like Dracula, Frankenstein and especially Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde, which is one of my favourites. Edgar Allen Poe too – that sort of creepy, dark other.

Steve. I was hugely influenced by Poe in my twenties. I wrote two plays based on his tales, but I guess it’s a phase you want to come out of eventually. You also have that quote from Stephen King’s ‘The Body’ at the beginning of The Sacrifice Box. We’ll come back to that, but he’s another influence, clearly.

Martin. I read quite a lot of his early stuff and Salem’s Lot in particular where there were a lot of pictures and insights into everyone’s life.

Steve. I remember that well. I liked that about it. I think that’s one of Stephen King’s strengths, especially in those early books. We gradually get to know so much about so many people. I remember thinking that in those books every character has a part to play.

Martin. And I consciously tried to tap into that energy in The Sacrifice Box in the chapter which concerns the old lady called Christine the Psychic. That chance to actually peer through someone’s window and see their domestic situation felt very Salem’s Lot. Little snapshots of – often vividly drawn - characters

Steve. Which brings us to your next influence, The League of Gentlemen. Now I actually went to Bretton Hall College several years ahead of them and I’ve already spoken about my own Poe phase. Perhaps there was something in the water.

Martin. It was a huge influence. Recently some pals and I made a sort of pilgrimage to Glasgow to see them live, because they’d been such a part of our growing up. I think it’s the fact that the Horror and the Comedy are so cheek by jowl. Grotesque and Funny.

Steve. Fierce as well. And terrifying. How do people do that, do you think? Evoke terror? I suppose it can be done very effectively through placing it within that whole small town feel, going back to Stephen King, or at least the enclosed community, where it works just as well.

Martin. Fact, Jaws is the best film ever made. The second best one is Alien.

Steve. I remember them both making an impact on me at the pictures when they came out. But they were a different sort of terror. In Jaws it was really obvious and the ‘behind you’ factor was very clear and present, even if Bruce the prosthetic shark was a tad unconvincing. But Alien, well that was something else. A sort of creeping dread that you felt like you were also experiencing, I saw it in a nearly empty cinema.

Martin. That’s right, and in both that agent of chaos comes inside a very small and tight environment, Amity Island in Jaws and the spaceship Nostromo in Alien, which is a de-facto island. It was something I consciously tried to follow in The Sacrifice Box, where the chaos happens in a very contained space.





Never Come After Dark


Steve. And we’re going to come back to The Sacrifice Box, Marty, but as it’s your second book, let’s go all sequential with your first. Meanwhile I think it’s been really useful to spend time on your influences. After all they’re going to thread right through our chat on the rest. But to begin with Riverkeep. It has a bit of a strange genesis and more than a bit of luck for a first time writer.

Martin. Yes, it was originally a short story with no intention of developing it into anything further. The first chapter is almost the short story untouched before Penguin bought it.

Steve. So let’s just clarify this remarkable and life changing piece of good fortune. Before we get to that stage, the actual idea does have a specific origin.

Martin. I’d written it for someone’s blog. It was actually written after reading in a Sunday newspaper about the Glasgow Humane Society. Although I’m Glasgow born and bred, (I live in on the coast now), I’d never heard of it. But part of that two hundred year old institution is that an officer has to go out in a rowing boat and look after the river Clyde, clearing away the weeds and rescuing people who have got into trouble. And the big thing is that he also has to recover the bodies of those who have drowned or fallen in, or are victims of murder, which, it being Glasgow, there have been quite a few of. I went to meet the guy who’s still there. His name’s George Parsonage and he’s in his mid-seventies now. He’s rescued 1,000 people and recovered 1500, since he’s been doing it since he was fourteen.
That was the thing that struck me when I wrote the short story five years ago while I was off work recovering from a fairly serious knee op.

Steve. And of course it’s a job very much like this one - but maybe on a much harsher river environment - that your main character in Riverkeep, Wull, is abut to inherit from his own father.

Of course, Marty, one of the reasons I asked you to do this was that by the time this blog goes out we’re just a week from Halloween. You actually wrote the short story for that, didn’t you?

Martin. Yes, and after the whole coming of age thing, the horror element comes from Wull’s dad coming back from the river and in some way being changed. So that was the creepy, surprise element I was looking for.

Steve. Almost as much of a surprise as the Penguin deal. I can’t imagine the Stewart household that day.

Martin. Right. It was great to get the book deal, but it made for a lot of pressure, as it was never meant to be a trailer for something much bigger.

Steve. So you had to build from the bottom up, the bottom being the short story!

Martin. Yes. And what I wanted to do was to get then out of the house and on to the river as soon as I could.

Steve. I love the intense and enclosed feel of the beginning of the book, but there’s a point, coinciding with when Wull loses what little he has and picks up the first of his unwanted travel companions, when it just takes off and the reader goes with it. 

Martin
. Then of course in the background it’s got it’s own Big Bad with some fearsome jaws of its own. The Mormorach. What in Gaelic literally means ‘the big “Big”. It’s that great something that has always existed, a classic scary beast, in a tribute to Jaws. All of it connected by water.

Steve. There’s the courage of young people in general, which you’ve already mentioned, but there’s also a specific element with Wull and his dad, who has been infected by the bodan, the creature which has more or less consumed his self.

Martin. Yes, after what happens to his father, Wull is also a young carer by any other name and I really wanted to explore the strength of character which these young people have. There’s a silent army of kids doing this that no-one knows about.

Steve
 And as in all the best road or river, road or disaster movies, every character has their flaw. In the case of my favourite character Tillinghast, his are mostly those of others.

Martin. Yes I deliberately brought in the classic Frankenstein theme with Tillinghast, who is made up of the meat of countless hanged men, so that he literally carries their memories as part of their skin and in their muscle. What must that do to people? My grandmother has Alzheimer’s, so I’m fascinated by that and Dementia and the cruel unique way you lose loved ones to it bit by bit.

Steve And something which of course Terry Pratchett did more to help people understand through his brave ‘out there’ approach to his own illness. But before we move to the eighties, is there to be a sequel.

Martin. Well that actually links to with The Sacrifice Box because I offered one to Penguin and gave them some ideas for it, but they said how abut something different.

Steve. And boy is it different. We’ve already referenced the eighties, so that’s a big clue. here’s an even bigger one in the wonderful tag line you have to describe it.




Never Take Back Your Sacrifice!


Martin. Yes, the pitch became ‘imagine if The Breakfast Club had reunited five years later to fight The Gremlins’. It taps into all those coming of age films like The Goonies. The Lost Boys and Stand by Me and often rather casual parenting that often seems to go on.

Steve. That brings us back to Stephen King and the original short story ‘The Body’ from his quartet of stories. ‘Different Seasons’, also containing ‘Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption’ which also did rather well as a movie. But the quote from that which you use at the beginning is all about the idea that the friendships you make at the age of twelve are the ones you never forget - and that’s the age group you’re at with The Sacrifice Box. For the eleven year old strong reader, with characters a few years older.

Martin. That’s right. What fascinated me as an idea were those little intense pockets of friendship you sometimes get in the holidays when you’re thrown together with kids you don’t really know. Maybe your normal friends are away at camp and there’s just you and the local kids. It’s an intense bubble which exists for a while and then pops.

Steve. Where did the idea of the actual Sacrifice Box come from?

Martin. Well I was aware that no way were a group of fifteen year old going to make a pledge by putting things in a box, but I’m a YA writer and that’s a middle grade premise. The solution was to use two time zones, with the consequences of what the younger kids had done coming back to haunt the teens.

Steve. Only this time of course, the older generation are also being haunted by the same thing, unknown to the kids.

Martin. Yes, there was that thing you said about the books being inter-generational, which struck a chord. A lot of that comes from my work as a teacher. Kids who you have a great relationship with in class, when you see them in the supermarket – they’re mortified.

Steve. Somewhat different for me in my years of FE teaching, where they often seem genuinely delighted to see you but also a little confused. Almost as if you’re not supposed to have a life outside of college.

Martin. Exactly. Teachers and the older generation in general can’t possibly have had the same kind of experiences. To represent that I wanted to have one typical sour old woman teacher like Mrs Maguire. But even she understands far more than any of the kids would guess. And she’s genuinely fond of Sep, the main character.

Steve. It’s a very dark book. Literally at times.

Martin. Well it’s all about darkness and atmosphere to me. I don’t read and certainly don’t watch huge amounts of horror because all that stuff freaks me out.  I prefer Gothic and the macabre, so that at the same time you can keep love and light in the sky. You can go down as far as you want into the pit, as long as there ends up being light at the end of the tunnel.

Steve. There’s also a lot of love in both books.

Martin. I hope so. More important to me than any fight or death scene. Balance was the watchword for me all the way through the writing of The Sacrifice Box. But yes certainly love. In fact it’s so important to me to redress this kind of thing that I’ve vowed that in each of my books there will be a part where one male character tells another that he loves him. It already happens with Wull and his dad in Riverkeep and Sep and his pseudo dad Mario in The Sacrifice Box.

Steve. That’s obviously important to you and it comes over. But we can’t leave this interview without a mention of the eighties. The music was what helped inspire you.

Martin.Yes when I was writing The Sacrifice Box I did so to a background of eighties music, beginning with Hall and Oates to start the day. It worked for me.

Steve. I know you’ve put the playlist on your website. Can you let us know a few of them, or maybe how to get to it.

Martin. Absolutely! This link www.martinstewartwriter.com/the-sacrifice box-detail will take you to the book’s page on my website; there’s information there about each track and its place in the world of the novel, and a link to the playlist on Spotify.

Steve. Cheers then, Martin. And best of luck with whatever comes next.

Martin. Thanks, Steve. I really enjoyed our chat.



Steve Gladwin
'Tales From The Realm' - Story and Screen Dream
Connecting Myth, Faerie and Magic
Author of 'The Seven' - Shortlisted for Welsh Books Prize, 2014






Wednesday, 5 July 2017

Who, What or Where Influenced your Writing?

Wycombe Library as I knew it

Books have always been a source of inspiration for me. Great literature is like soul food for the imagination. It can take you anywhere at any time, no journey too long, no obstacle too great, no limits, no boundaries. Can I imagine a world where there are no books? NO is the simple answer. When I was a kid, my family couldn’t afford to buy books, (don’t worry, I’ve made up for that big time!), so the library was where I got my weekly fix. My town library during my teenage years was a place of huge inspiration. It was full of books by writers I had heard of and many I had not. 


Wycombe Library now

I made my way round the whole library, reading good fiction, exceptional fiction, high-brow to low-brow, from JRR Tolkien, CS Lewis, John Wyndham, Agatha Christie, Jane Austen, Tolstoy, Zola, the Brontes, Edgar Allan Poe, Maupassant, Stephen King, Dickens, Erle Stanley Gardner, John Creasey, Denis Wheately (I told you I read everything!), to John Fowles. I had wide and varied tastes – I still do! Although I never dreamt of being a writer then, I soaked up words like they were going out of fashion.

Penn Bookshop
Some of the thousands of books in Penn Bookshop




When I was about sixteen, my dad and I discovered The Cottage Bookshop in Penn – a second-hand bookshop stuffed full of shelves, nooks and crannies, bursting at the seams with books upon books upon books. I practically moved in, losing hours in that place. I didn’t know then that Terry Pratchett had also spent hours and hours lost in the book alleys of this very bookshop when he was a kid. The Cottage Bookshop was the inspiration for L-space (library space) in Discworld. Pratchett often returned to the shop during his career, and launched his Johnny and the Bomb there in 1996.
Ian Fleming


Stephen King was inspired by writers such as Richard Matheson, Shirley Jackson, H P Lovecraft, and Bram Stoker. Arthur Conan Doyle was inspired by Edgar Allen Poe. Ian Fleming's James Bond was apparently inspired by Dennis Wheatley's Gregory Sallust series.





Tolkien was a huge inspiration for me – he led me into the endless worlds and possibilities of a genre I came to love.

So, it’s no surprise then that the first thing I ever wrote was a fantasy epic – complete with its own world, full of many lands, populated by a diverse range of people and creatures. There were several maps, drawn to scale. And hundreds of thousands of words: the trilogy had to be divided up into six parts. The manuscripts have been filed away. Every few years they get dusted off and reread before going back in the drawer. I may do something with them one day... I can’t say that my recent works have been inspired by one writer or a few writers in particular. That’s one I’ll have to mull over.
              
So what, who or where has inspired you to write?



Savita's Website