Writing and Serendipity - Again. By Bill Kirton
I’m
not sure how it works, but it’s happened again.
The author as Captain Ahab |
I’ll
explain. It’s embarrassing to admit that my WIP has been IP for ages. It used
to take me about 6 months to write the first draft of a novel, but this one’s
been crawling forward on and off for 2 years, maybe longer. It’s over the
50,000 word mark but grinding through that particular point has been difficult,
and I’ve no idea why.
It’s
a sequel to The Figurehead, which is
a historical crime novel that also became a romance. Part of the reason why I’ve
been dragging my heels is that I’m still not sure how I’m going to resolve the
problems of the relationship between a figurehead carver, John Grant, and Helen
Anderson, the daughter of a rich merchant. The novel’s set in 1841, when
attitudes to marriage and extra-marital goings-on didn’t leave much scope for …
well, anything really.
A perfect day |
But
the thing that’s ‘happened again’ has, as usual, come out of the blue. As well
as the relationship and the sine qua non
crime, the story’s built around two separate threads: the arrival in Aberdeen
of a theatre group which will be performing melodramas at the Theatre Royal;
and the determination of Helen, an only child, to become involved in the family
business. Without going into any details (which may change drastically through
the various drafts anyway), I’ve found that the two threads – coincidentally,
because I certainly hadn’t planned it – were reaching a crucial stage at about
the same time. I was quite pleased about that, but it was more than just a passive
contentment.
My first (very primitive) figurehead |
The
coincidence had me looking at them in a different way, not as the writer but as
a sort of analyst of how the various elements were working, what their ‘significance’
was. In a way, I was thinking like a potential critic or reviewer. I don’t mean
that I did it consciously; it’s just now, writing this, that I realise that’s
the best way to sum up the experience. I wasn’t looking at the situation and
wondering where to take each thread next; instead I was aware of what turned
out to be pretty obvious parallels between them. On their own, which is how it
seemed, these two separate elements had started feeding off one another and were
moving closer together.
It’s
not magical, there’s no alchemy going on, of course. The two threads are part
of my imaginings, belong in the same mental space, they’re bound to inform and affect
one another, but that’s at a subconscious level. The effect it had at the
conscious level was to help me to understand them better and see how I could
use the parallels. As I said at the start, it’s happened before and, like other
experiences such as ‘being in the zone’ which I’ve blogged about before, it
makes writing very exciting at times.
There’s
a secondary motive, however, for choosing this subject for a blog. Apart from
introducing me to woodcarving, which I took up as part of my research, The Figurehead allowed me to indulge in a
dream I’d always had – to sail in a square-rigger. As the images show, for just a few days I was a
paying member of the crew of the Christian
Radich on a voyage from Oslo to Leith. She’s the beautiful ship which featured in the
old BBC series, The Onedin Line. You can see her in full sail right at the beginning of this Youtube clip.
The picture at the top is me at her helm. Imagine that. Anyway,
as well as the self-indulgence of taking turns at the wheel of such a vessel, it
gave me the material for a long short story, Death Ship. And this month, that story is free to new and old
subscribers to the AE Newsletter. So if you’d like to know what it was like on
the North Sea in a fresh South-Easter (with added murders), sign up on the form
in the right hand column.
Comments
Jan, I’d heard of your depravity but G&T IN THE MORNING?? Disgraceful.
Wendy, when it comes to sailing on a square rigger, for ‘dedication to research’ substitute ‘unashamed self-indulgence’.
Catherine, yes I’ve admired the pictures of Alan’s work which you’ve posted now and then. Carving a figurehead for my own boat would be akin to a spell in paradise.
Kathleen, you’d have loved that trip – the crew and all but one of the other passengers/crew members were Norwegian and yet, of course, they all spoke fluent, impeccable English. But just to be under almost full sail on such a ship was breathtaking – and to take the wheel… nope, no words can cover it. And, by the way, the cook was worthy of a top class restaurant, too. For those few days, God was definitely in His heaven and all was definitely right with the world.
Jan - silly of me. I should have known you were more of a tapioca man.