Deadlines

July 1 had been my self-imposed deadline to send the pretty-much-final-draft of Hostage to Fortune to an old friend to read through and comment on. I’m afraid I missed it.
I began the third re-read/re-write run through on June 11 planning to do at least a chapter a day but it hasn’t quite worked out like that.
At first I made some progress but I was nowhere near meeting my schedule and of the 24 days since I began I have managed to concentrate on Hostage to Fortune for only ten – and then only for a couple of hours in any one day. In that period I reached only page 72 (of 299) in Chapter 7 of (currently) 34.
My reason (excuse?) is that my husband and I have, yet again, been moving house.
In the fifteen years since I first decided to try to write seriously for publication we have moved six times and at least one book has seen the light of day in each house: Woodnesborough, Kent (The Last Dance); Tenbury Wells, Worcestershire (Walking Alone); Ludlow, central Shropshire (Runaways); Maesbrook, north Shropshire (Highly Unsuitable Girl); Yarmouth, Isle of Wight (A Set of Lies and Her Parents’ Daughter); Dartmouth, Devon (Second Strand) and now Worth, Kent less than three miles from where we left just over ten years ago, where Hostage to Fortune – and others – will see the light of day.
But now the packing and unpacking has been done (we ought to be good at it by now) and we are settled Hostage to Fortune will return to the top of my to-do list and be the focus of my attention once again.
My new deadline is to get Hostage to Fortune to Jane by the end of this month and I WILL make it.
If the weather is hot I’ll just have to start early. If the cricket is enthralling I’ll just have to listen to TMS on the radio rather than watch the TV. If the garden needs attention then it will just have to wait.
I will finish this by the end of the month.
Really.
I will.

Knowledge and Experience – or Imagination?

Well known, and in many ways brilliant, writer Anthony Horowitz has been warned off including black characters in a new book because an (American?) editor said it was inappropriate for a ‘white’ writer to create a ‘black’ character. He made the rejoinder that if you followed that train of thought he could only write about ‘62 year old, white, Jewish men living in North London’
What was that editor thinking?
A writer’s job is:
To tell a story by creating characters and leading the reader through the development of the plot by showing interactions between those characters.
I suggest that stories, characters and interactions would be incredibly feeble and tedious if all characters were a reflection of the writer.
That editor does not appear to allow for the one critical factor – imagination. Why is it artificial or condescending or patronising to include characters of different ages, genders, races and even sexual proclivities just because the writer has not had that personal experience? And in any case, are people so defined by their colour, as this editor implies, that empathy and understanding are impossible between different ‘categories’ (my quotes) of people?
For the past few months I have been writing my next murder mystery novel – Hostage to Fortune (hopefully out early 2018).
The story involves murder and abduction but I am neither a murderer nor an abductor so I presume to be able to put myself in the place of one who is.
Instead of knowledge and direct experience I have imagined; I have put myself in the position of someone in a certain situation and imagined what they would do and how they would act. This is what writers (good, bad and indifferent) do.
How many people did Agatha Christie poison, stab, shoot or otherwise do away with? How could she, as a well off, middle-aged, English woman possibly write about a pedantic Belgian male detective, an ex-policeman, refugee from war-torn Belgium, possible spy for the British, lover of steam trains, unlucky in love. Could it have been that she had imagination?
I could not have written any of my books including only white, thoroughly middle class, university educated, four times married, women in their sixties.
My characters are first and foremost individuals.
Ryan, Guy, Arjun, Luis, Barford, Pat, Diane, Skye and Fergal each acts and reacts in his or her own individual way, they have characteristics of their own, they have taken on lives of their own with individual motives and back-stories.
Ryan is immature, Guy is manipulative, Arjun is vulnerable, both Luis and Barford make mistakes though both survive them, both Pat and Diane keep too many secrets to themselves, and neither Skye nor Fergal can keep to their remit; but, when it comes down to it, their gender, sexuality, colour and age are probably immaterial to the plot but their differences make it, to my mind, far more credible.
In these days of inclusivity and diversity a book that contains characters who are uniform in gender, sexuality, colour and age would be completely improbable so, should that editor’s approach be accepted widely, every work of fiction would have to have multiple writers, each concentrating on their own insular and insulated little world, limited by their experience.
As a certain, brilliant, scientist (Albert Einstein) is quoted as saying “I am enough of the artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”

Progress?

The first draft of the book I would like to call Hostage to Fortune is finished! (Time for a celebratory glass of wine?)
Begun on 15 March this, the follow on to Her Parents’ Daughter and Second Strand, is the quickest I have ever completed the first draft of a book.
Of the thirty-four days, only eight were without progress. I achieved an average 1,793 words per day which isn’t bad, with a maximum number in a day 6,427! One or two days were pretty much failures with only one hundred odd words, but there were always extenuating circumstances.
This incredible rate of progress was only possible because I spent three weeks plotting out the chapters in advance, (memories of teachers telling me to plan out essays before putting pen to paper – thank you Miss Nicholson, Mr Sant and Miss Honeyball!) so I knew where I was going and who was going to do what to whom and when before I started.
It was only in the last but one chapter that my characters strayed off message. One, Guy, was supposed to do one thing but as the words spewed from my fingers on the keyboard he decided to do something completely different.
I can only say that this turned out to be his mistake.
Unfortunately, the title Hostage to Fortune has been used before. Sometimes A Hostage to Fortune, sometimes Hostages to Fortune, sometimes with a subtitle sometimes not.
Shall I go with it anyway, since the other books date from 1931, and the fifties?
I don’t know.
I can’t think of any better for this book; it works on so many levels.
Mind you, since I’ve only just finished the first draft, I have lots of time to think about it.