Sunday 23 March 2014

Being a writer, part 8: Settings and scenery

Your novel setting can be very important, sometimes rivalling a character. You probably know what I mean - the exotic for romance or spy/intrigue, the dark urban sprawl for detectives, gangsters and serial killers. And graveyards and Gothic mansions for horror. But some of these border on the cliché.

Now, I like horror, but this doesn't mean monsters, vampires, ghosts, werewolves etc need be present. Think for a moment about how vile people can be to each other. What secret might a respected businessman hide? What about bent police and lawyers? What might ordinary people believe or be members of? What could be worse than some violent and pernicious organisation operating right under your nose in a small, picturesque village? Disappearances, strange symbols, a derelict building, a dead tree, hidden mine-workings etc might be relevant, as might be computer hacking, phone tapping or internet trolls. All this can be particularly bad for your characters if they can't trust the authorities...

It also pays to use places you know. Of course you call them something else and take a few liberties with their geography. And look into their history - you never know what you can dig up.

Jack Orchison,
March 23, 2014

My biographical bit, part 10 : University 3

My time at University was an academic success (I got a first class honours degree where I came fourth in the year), though rather less so in terms of accommodation chosen or relationship-wise. With the latter I was a fool and should have tried harder. Caroline, sorry for being an idiot - I really didn't have the words.

It's funny what else you do remember, though. In Cripps Hall we had a tuck shop (a place you could buy snack foods), and there was one guy called Paul Jackson who was obsessed with a type of chocolate bar, called Cabana, which was chewy and cherry flavoured. He was a chemist, too. We must be a strange lot. Gerry Pattenden's Tomato Lecturs was proof of that. And Lynne Frost hiding stark naked in her boyfriend's bed when the cleaner came in. Then there were the old sticks of sodium that went boom in the campus lake - the same place they used to hold the Raft Race.

Each Hall in the Fresher's Week built a raft out of what they could find and though there was much sinking and cheating there was one genuine (and stunning) victory by Willoughby Hall who romped away from the field like they were professionals.

These were also the days of Fortran 77 and an early computer game (on mainframe only) called Dungeon (a derivative of Dungeons and Dragons, I guess) where many a student and postgraduate with access to a terminal wasted a great deal of time. Then there was Sargon II, a very crude (and extremely bad) chess programme. I can tell you Sargon II was a better ruler of the Kingdom of Akkadia than a chess player.

Which brings me to the chess adventures I'll go into next time.

Jack Orchison,
March 23, 2014

Sunday 16 March 2014

My biographical bit, part 9: University 2

Back in my University days (people took more pride in what it was and didn't call it 'Uni'), it was a time for joining clubs and societies because there wasn't the distraction of computers, mobile phones, game consoles or wall-to-wall television. These clubs were joined in Freshers' Week ('Week One')and I joined those for chess (more of that another time), snooker (I was rubbish at that: the best break I ever had was 18), backgammon and, surprisingly for a boring git like me, the Badminton Club.

This was the biggest mixed society on the campus and was extremely successful and popular. Because of this you had to play doubles or mixed doubles and it was great for meeting girls (that weird, unattainable species I knew little about). I had friendships of sorts with two girls called Anna and Elaine, although they didn't seem too interested, and then there was Sarah Binner who insisted on sticking her tits out at any guy with a pulse...I wasn't that cheap or desperate, even if she was. This club was also where I first encountered a guy called Kevin Maughan (an older fellow chemist, it turned out) and he was just awesome. He even played in international events. Some people joked he was really studying for a joint honours degree in Chemistry with Badminton.

With the backgammon, our team got to play others (by arrangement rather than in a league) and there was one time we were in Sheffield near where serial killer Peter Sutcliffe (better known as the Yorkshire Ripper) had struck - and he was still at large! We were glad to get home, even if he only murdered women.

The first week at University was one for organised trips into Nottingham. One of these was to the ice rink where Torvill and Dean used to practice. Regrettably, I was not on a par with them - my first (and last) attempt to skate ended prematurely when I fell over, tripped up a number of other people, and ended beneath them all, rather like in a collapsed rugby scrum!

More University adventures next time.

Jack Orchison
March 16, 2014.

Being a writer, part 7: Sequels, trilogies and series

It might seem a bit odd to consider future stories before you've even written one, but it's an important aspect nevertheless.

First of all, it tests your main character(s). How strong are they? How pro-active are they? Is the enemy hard to take down in one go? Can they develop even further than envisaged for the first story? And, will readers still be excited by the new situations you create later on? You must also consider the time period between stories - whether that is nine months or seventeen years, for instance. Adulthood, generations, babies and children, change of work or location or friends or attitudes, vigilance or complacency etc, not to mention the rise or recuperation of the bad guys, can all change things dramatically and for the good of the overall concept. However, I don't recommend a string of seven books like Harry Potter, or the six of Jean Auel's Children of the Earth - readers will get fed up and not read them all. I think any collection should be four at the most.

The seoond thing to remember is that more than one book changes how you approach the first - more things can be left unresolved and there can be more subplots and more characters (which might be introduced late, or even not all, in the first book - think of Will in Philip Pullman's Dark Materials trilogy). You will find yourself coming up with bits for later books as you do the first and, hey presto, they will be part done when you come to them.

So, is your story self-contained, or does your concept have 'legs' - the ability to go further?

Jack Orchison
March 16, 2014