Why do we write? -- Carol Clements

I want to talk to you today about why we write. I’ve read that some writers can do nothing but write, the words pouring out of their mind onto the paper. Some only ever publish one book.


For me, the reading came first. From an early age, I was allowed, once a week, after we had been grocery shopping, to pick a book. My family had emigrated to America when I was two years old, we returned when I was six. When I started my local primary school, I was already a year behind everyone else as my peers had already begun learning their three ‘Rs’ a year before me. However, my voracious appetite for reading had paid off and I could already write my name and read well above my chronological age when I started. 


I think Enid Blyton’s Famous Five were my first loves! The adventures and camaraderie brought my imagination to life. The siblings and their cousin, with of course Timmy the dog, gave me something I didn’t have as an only child. I quickly progressed to the St Clare’s and Malory Towers series. The urge to go to boarding school was overwhelming!






The jump from these innocent children’s tomes to James Herbert happened quite quickly for me in my mid-teens. My favourite being Fluke and Moon Cottage. As it was the late 70s, that master of horror, Stephen King was soon on my reading list, and I devoured everything that he had written, in fact I still do. 




I could list every writer that has influenced me, but this is a blog not a dissertation. So I would like to share with you four of my absolute favourites, ones that I re-read on a regular basis.


The first is Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson. This was her first novel, she has gone on to write many absolute corkers, in my opinion. The book won the Whitbread Book of the Year in 1995. By interspersing flashbacks with the narrative of Ruby's own life, the book chronicles the lives of six generations of women from Ruby's great-grandmother Alice to Ruby's mother's failed dreams. 


“I am a jewel. I am a drop of blood. I am Ruby Lennox!”

― Kate Atkinson, Behind the Scenes at the Museum




The second on my list would be Rose Madder by Stephen King. This book helped me through an extremely difficult stage of my life and a very messy divorce. I shall be forever grateful for the MC and her bravery.


“It is only a deep echo, perhaps a reverberation of her husband’s madness, as soft as a rustle of batwings in a cave.”

― Stephen King, Rose Madder



My third choice would have to be The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells. Set in the deep south of the USA, the book is a big, blowzy romp through the rainbow eccentricities of three generations of crazy bayou debutantes. This book reminds me of how precious my girlfriends are to me.

“What does my smile look like now? Vivi wondered. Can you reclaim that free-girl smile, or is it like virginity- once you lose it, that's it?”

― Rebecca Wells, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood




And lastly, for this blog, is Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. A huge book, a fictional tale weaved around some true life events. This mesmerising first novel is set in the underworld of contemporary Bombay. Shantaram is narrated by Lin, an escaped convict with a false passport who flees maximum security prison in Australia for the teeming streets of a city where he can disappear. He is accompanied by his guide and faithful friend, Prabaker, the two enter Bombay's hidden society of beggars and gangsters, prostitutes and holy men, soldiers and actors, and exiles from other countries, who seek in this remarkable place what they cannot find elsewhere.


“Love is the opposite of power. That's why we fear it so much.”

― Gregory David Roberts, Shantaram



And so I think the reason I write is because my admiration for the authors of all the stories that I love and have read makes me want to emulate them. Not their style or stories necessarily but the ability to make someone lose themselves in the pages of something I have written. To make someone laugh or be able to forget for a small time what is going on in the real world.


This of course leaves me with a huge case of Imposter Syndrome (I feel it deserves capitalising) because I never quite reach the heady heights of my heroes, but I will keep trying.


Thanks for reading and what are some of your literary heroes?



Carol

Comments

Peter Leyland said…
Your question is a bit of an open goal for me Carol. I am a convinced bibliotherapist. My heroes are usually Dorothea Brooke from Middlemarch, which I reread every so often to remind myself of how one can always get a second chance, messy divorces notwithstanding. And on the more masculine side I love Axel Heyst in Conrad's Victory, a book that got me back into reading after one.
Umberto Tosi said…
I was an early reader myself. My inspirational list changes frequently. Thanks for a lovely read.
Griselda Heppel said…
Thank you for putting so well the reason why we write. Loving books ourselves is so fundamental, and something so easily taken for granted, that one can (or at least, I can) almost forget that this, THIS is at the heart of one's desire to write. For me, being a children's writer, the Chronicles of Narnia stand out, but also a wonderfully brilliant, witty, absurd and linguistically joyous book called The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster, which I adored. I'm fascinated by your choice: all authors I've heard of but haven't read (oh except for Enid Blyton, who was a genius for storytelling). I don't go for the horror genre, being a complete wuss, but I know they are all good authors.

Recently I heard that in universities, when Eng Lit students are assigned a book to read (eg Middlemarch - great choice, Peter), they split it up between them so that each reads a section. Then they come together to share the contents of the sections between them because of course, no one can possibly read the whole book. If this is true - and I hope it isn't - I can't see many decent writers developing in the future. But then all books will be written by ChatGPT, so that's ok. (Apologies for the GLOOM.)

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