Mind the Gap - BBC 2 - Evan Davis and Crime fiction

The second of the two parts of Mind the Gap aired on BBC 2 this week. This thought-provoking programme was a documentary presented by Evan Davis analysing both the success of London and the challenges faced by the rest of Britain given the apparently relentless increase in the north-south divide, in terms of prosperity and much else. Crime fiction wasn't mentioned once, needless to say, but some of the issues discussed have genuine relevance (at least in my opinion) to contemporary crime fiction.

Economics is a subject which fascinates me, although I have long suspected that the main difference between different schools of economists may be not that some are right and some are wrong, but simply the often very distinct ways in which  they are all ultimately proved wrong. Evan Davis is a very articulate, intelligent and likeable presenter indeed, and he argued not only that London's prosperity will continue to grow because it is a hub of excellence and a magnet for talented people who want to cluster together, but also that the only chance the rest of the country has of catching up is to create a super-city of its own. He proposed Manchester as this super-city, something that won't have pleased many Liverpudlians I know, for a start.

I agreed with some of Davis' arguments - for instance, a good example of a hub that he didn't mention is Hay-on-Wye, which has reinvented itself brilliantly as a book town and home of a major literary festival. But I did wonder if, in some respects, his arguments were a bit old-fashioned. Technology - Skype, the internet, and all the rest of it - surely makes geographical proximity between like-minded people less of a "must" than it once was. And there are various powerful human factors that complicate the discussion. I sense that younger people are more concerned about the "work-life balance" than was the case, say, thirty years ago, and I'm not sure that living and working in super-cities provides the best kind of balance for a lot of people. And what about the nightmare of commuting - something  I used to hate when I was working full-time at some distance from my office, and which is becoming more stressful with every year that passes? Davis didn't say anything about the countryside, and I don't believe you can look at cities in isolation from the country as a whole.

Whatever one's views, however, we are all affected by economic realities, and therefore crime novels are inevitably affected by them too. And this is a subject which has lurked in the background of my fiction right from the outset. All the Lonely People presented a picture of Liverpool at quite a low point in its history, and later Harry Devlin books tackled the changes and improvements (and there have been many, which Mind the Gap didn't address, focusing instead on the boarded-up terraced houses) in the city in later years. The Lake District Mysteries have a sub-text about changes and challenges in rural society that are again driven by economic factors. Very few reviewers have commented on these aspects of the books, so perhaps they are not of widespread interest, but I prefer to think that it is because I don't address them in a didactic way. Like the economists, I don't have any easy solutions to offer to the economic challenges faced by places that I love, such as Liverpool and the Lakes. But I do think that those challenges provide a natural and relevant backdrop to the mysteries of character and motive that are my main concern as a crime writer..

History and Dubrovnik

In an excellent article for The Guardian a couple of days ago, Mark Lawson wrote that; "One of the functions of fiction is to serve as a kind of tourism, either showing us places, situations and people that we might not otherwise reach or scrolling through snapshots of events or sensations that we remember." This is a very well made point, and it struck a real chord with me after my return from the Adriatic, and especially in relation to my visit to Dubrovnik.

I first went to Dubrovnik almost a quarter of a century ago. It was an impressive place, but my main, if rather hazy, recollection, is of a sense of regulation and limitation, imposed by the state machine of the time - in those days, Dubrovnik was part of Communist Yugoslavia. Since then, it was besieged during the terrible war with Serbia, and the marks of that war can still be seen if you look around. But the over-riding impression I had, not least from talking to a young taxi driver, was of a place which has been liberated from tyranny and which is loving that liberation.

If Venice is my favourite foreign city, Dubrovnik is now probably not far behind. It really looked fantastic in the sun, and we tried to cram as much as possible into a day's visit This meant an hour's trip in a glass-bottomed boat, a walk around the full length of the incredible city walls, and a cable car ride - three different perspectives on one of the most photogenic places I've visited.

I think if you know a little about the history of a place, it enhances the experience, and that's true even of somewhere as intrinsically and obviously attractive as Dubrovnik. I read a deeply felt message written by one of the residents whose home had been devastated during the war, and it was impossible not to feel a real sense of horror about what was done to innocent people within our lifetime. Our visit coincided with various Independence celebrations,and it was easy to understand why, given what they have endured, the people of the city have embraced capitalism (with all its faults) and are even looking forward to being part of the Eurozone (which I suppose could prove even more of a mixed blessing.).

It's because I believe that history matters, and that it is good to try to learn from history and experience, so as to try not to repeat the mistakes of the past, that I chose a historian as the male protagonist of the Lake District Mysteries. The series is intended to be very much about the Lakes in the21st century - but every book, and every story-line is informed by the past. And it's because of this interest in history that, as I walked the walls of Dubrovnik, I tried to imagine what Daniel Kind would make of the city. I reckon he'd like it as much as I do.

Finishing a Novel

I'm close to finishing my latest Lake District Mystery - which is just as well, as delivery date to my American publishers is 1 November.. The title is The Frozen Shroud, and it's the sixth book in the series. I reached the end of the last chapter a short while ago, but since then I've been working hard at improving the manuscript. The Hanging Wood earned terrific reviews, and I'm anxious at the very least to maintain that standard..

Revision is, for me, a crucial part of the process. Although, to an extent, I try to improve what I write as I go along, the reality (for me, anyway) is that until I've finished the book, it isn't possible to get a clear overview of exactly how the story works, and how well it works. Different authors have different approaches, and I don't think it's possible to lay down a template for writing a book that would suit everyone. But one point which is, I think, generally true, is that it is always possible to improve a book. The real question is - where do you stop, where do you draw the line? This is where deadlines can be very helpful, as long as you have allowed enough time to think about the story, so that the finished product does not seem rushed.

There are all kinds of ways in which a book can be improved. One of my failings is a tendency to repeat favourite phrases (yes, I am aware of it!) and I'm keen to keep repetition to a reasonable minimum. That said, there's no point in being different for the sake of it. The key point is that different kinds of books require different approaches. I write the Harry Devlin books, for instance, in a slightly different way from the Lake District Mysteries. In the latter, I tend to favour a steady build-up of suspense, developing character, atmosphere and plot over several early chapters, with a faster pace in the second half of the book. This is not an especially fashionable method at present, and I'd write a thriller, for instance, very differently, but I believe it suits the Lake District series. You have to remain true to your vision of a book, or a series, I think, whatever the pressures of fashion - in fact, I tend to think that is the reason why I've managed to keep publishing for over 20 years. However, one doesn't want to overdo a particular method of writing, and I've tried in The Frozen Shroud to introduce some fresh elements into the telling of the story, as well as into the plot.

Not every writer enjoys revision, but I do. During the course of putting a draft of a novel together, there are usually times when it's impossible not to worry about it. Will the story work? Have I walked the narrow line between preserving what is good about the series and falling into the trap of formula? Now I've completed the story, I feel very positive about it. The challenge now is to make it as enjoyable to read as it can be.

Research

I've found it a struggle to get started with the next Lake District Mystery. Lack of time is an easy excuse, but it isn't really good enough. I did write a first chapter, but it didn't live up to my ambitions, so I've binned it, retaining only the opening line.

So - how to get going? I decided I really needed to soak myself in the locale, and luckily last Saturday was sunny enough to allow me to do just that. The result was a walk that was hugely enjoyable, with magnificent views. Here are some photos of the area where I'll be setting the book.

If that doesn't inspire me through the winter, I don't know what will!

The first review of The Hanging Wood

You can probably imagine that, for any writer, the initial reaction to a new novel is awaited eagerly but with some trepidation. It is difficult to judge one’s own work, and the opinions of friends (and sometimes even agents and editors) aren’t necessarily a guide to wider reaction among the leading critics.

So I am thrilled that The Hanging Wood has started life, ahead of publication, with a starred review in the Library Journal and of course I can’t resist quoting it in full:

'When 14-year-old Callum Hinds goes missing in England’s Lake District, everyone suspects his uncle, who, unable to stand the pressure, commits suicide. Twenty years later Callum’s sister raises doubts about her uncle’s guilt, but no one listens. Then she falls into a grain silo and suffocates. DCI Hanna Scarlett, head of Cumbria’s Cold Case Review Team, begins an investigation that leads to more deaths and an unexpected ending. Edwards’s fifth series title (after The Serpent Pool) builds suspense while capturing its characters’ rage, anguish, and resentment that complicate the investigation and intensify the danger for all involved. VERDICT With an unforgettable ending, this outstanding cold case will attract Lynda La Plante and Mo Hayder fans.'

And after that bit of trumpet-blowing, I'll do a post tomorrow about two other writers!

Brief Encounter

En route for Grasmere and the launch of The Serpent Pool, we stopped off at Carnforth, just south of the Lake District. I had in mind a trip to the very good second hand bookshop in the town, but digressed to the railway station for lunch. And this proved surprisingly memorable.

This is because Carnforth Railway Station was used for the filming of the classic movie Brief Encounter. After the British rail network was stupidly decimated in the 60s, the station was left derelict, but a great charitable effort led to it having a new life. There is now a splendid museum featuring the history of the station, and the making of Brief Encounter. You can lunch, as we did, in a recreated cafeteria that is really atmospheric.

Brief Encounter isn't really my favourite sort of movie, but I do think that what has been done at Carnforth is wonderful. Even though life moves on, and we must embrace the new, it's a terrible mistake to neglect the past. This humble railway station offers a real slice of British social history, and its revival is a sign of what can be done by people with imagination and drive.

I've always been keen on history, but if anything, I'm keener than ever these days. History plays a big part in the Lake District Mysteries, and will continue to do so, informing the lives of Hannah, Daniel and those around them. And they may even pay a visit to Carnforth one of these days...

Writers and their Readers

Dorte asked in a recent comment about the ‘contract’ between writer and reader, and this intriguing question prompted me to reflect again on what it is that readers expect writers to deliver. In this post, I’ll focus on my own experience, and field, but there are a good many wider issues that are also well worth discussing, and perhaps a future post will do so.

Most people would agree that ‘rules’ for writers are not a good thing. Way back in the 20s, Ronald Knox devised his Decalogue for detective story writers, a list of rules which should be observed and which has been seen in some ways as a cornerstone of writing in the Golden Age. But even he broke one or two of his own rules in his fiction, and so did many others, very successfully.

There is one important issue in a crime series that occupies my thoughts a lot. If you have loyal readers, who have read your earlier books, you don’t want to bore them with explanation about the characters’ back stories. But new readers need to understand about the people in the story, and not be confused. I believe I owe it to both sets of readers not to irritate them with too much or too little back story, and to deliver information in a pleasing way, without boring anyone. I have come across some series where there is too much or too little repetition of key facts, and the skill required to walk the tightrope is, I think, often under-estimated. I am determined to try to make sure that you can start my series anywhere - with the latest book, or one in the middle, and still enjoy that one, and then - if you do like it - all the others.

I’m also guided by another principle, which not everyone will agree with. I strive in my writing to create a strong impression of realism, but I’m not obsessed with it. I don’t mind changing the topography of Liverpool or the Lakes a little, if it suits the story, and does not jar (at least, does not jar with me!) One reason why this is a good idea, in my opinion, is to avoid distressing people in the real world, or even libelling people or organisations unintentionally. For instance, inevitably I feature the Cumbria Constabulary in my work, but I’ve created a fictional equivalent to the real police force (the real one is, I gather from the statistics, very good, even if it lacks a Hannah Scarlett, let alone a Les Bryant or a Greg Wharf.)

However ‘realistic’ we try to be as writers – and I’m strongly in favour of writers making the attempt to be ‘realistic’ – we have to recognise the real world is different from our make-believe universe. Take the Cumbria shootings, or the Jo Yeates murder, for instance. Those tragic events have a resonance and an impact that is almost impossible to re-create in fiction, even though the best fiction can have enormous impact. Here’s another ‘rule’ that I set myself, then. When challenging readers to think about matters of life and death in fiction, to do so with respect for those living in the real world.

Take My Breath Away

I’m truly thrilled to have received a contract for the publication in the United States of Take My Breath Away, which appeared in the UK back in 2002. It’s a book which I’m very proud of, although it’s only fair to admit that it attracted much less attention than my other books.

The idea behind the story was one I was (and am) truly passionate about. It represents a complete break from the Harry Devlin series, even though the setting is a law firm – a glitzy outfit called Creed, based in the heart of London. The first chapter is set at a posh reception organised by a headhunter, and the opening line is: ‘The dead woman smiled.’ Some people whose judgement I respect have said the first chapter is one of the best things I’ve ever written, and the story that develops from there is quite elaborate, following the twin journeys of true crime writer Nic Gabriel, and a mysterious young woman who calls herself Roxanne Wake.

One of the background elements of the book is that there is a vein of political satire. Creed is a very ‘New Labour’ firm, and some of the dialogue of the senior partner, Will Janus, owes much to the inspiration of Tony Blair. I was pleased with the way this worked, but it didn’t seem to be noticed by the critics (except the perceptive Mat Coward, who has long been very supportive of my work – perhaps his insight into left-wing politics explains how he latched on to the political bits more readily than others.) Maybe it was too deeply buried in the text for most people to see it, I’m not sure. But I still think it works, although of course the story can be read as a psychological suspense novel, with various elements of mystery, without any regard to the political dimension.

I left open the possibility that Nic Gabriel might one day return. This may still happen, though I decided to strike out in a new direction with the Lake District Mysteries, and their much greater success means I’ll be sticking with them for the foreseeable future. Oddly enough, those people who did read Take My Breath Away tended to like it a lot. Trouble was, there weren’t enough of them! They included Priscilla Masters, who was kind enough to feature the book in a novel of her own. I’m absolutely delighted the book is to have a new lease of life.

Time and the Detectives

Time management is an important consideration for authors of mystery series, even though we don’t always pay it enough attention when our series characters start out on their fictional journeys. I’m not talking here about time management in the sense of how does one find the time to write the books, but rather in the sense of connecting the chronology of the series to real time.

The classic illustration of the problem is the obituary of Hercule Poirot in The New York Times – ‘by conventional reckoning, Poirot must have been over 130 years old when he solved his last case’). Similarly, Ruth Rendell’s Inspector Wexford was already a senior cop when his first case was published in 1964. It’s sometimes said that authors should start out with young detectives – but ageism isn’t a great solution to the problem! We need and want senior sleuths to figure in series!

So what is an author to do? My own method – I don’t for a moment suggest it’s perfect, but it’s the best I can do – is to elide time somewhat. An example in the Harry Devlin series is the way I dealt with the passage of time between the events of First Cut is the Deepest, and those of Waterloo Sunset. I acknowledge very specifically the passage of time in Harry’s life, and in the redevelopment of Liverpool. But I reduced (in effect) the length of the interval between books. Harry was 32 when All the Lonely People was published; that was my age when I started writing the manuscript. Suffice to say that he’s aged much better than me.

So far, time pressures haven’t been acute in the Lake District Mysteries. But I am planning to deal with them in much the same way. This is fiction, after all. Of course, I’d be interested in the views of others on this tricky subject – it’s one where, I suspect, the right answer is that there is no right answer.

Dancing in the USA

This year has been rather strange in some ways, not least because I haven’t published a brand new novel. My last book came out just before the end of 2008, and The Serpent Pool will appear next February. But I have had some overseas publications to celebrate, and I’m pleased that Dancing for the Hangman will appear under the Five Star imprint on 9 December.

I know that I’m very fortunate, in the current climate, to have books published by two American publishers. While Poisoned Pen Press have done a fantastic job in bringing out, and publicisng, the Lake District Mysteries, and Waterloo Sunset, Five Star published the first two Harry Devlins as well as the new book about the misadventures of Dr Crippen.

The reviews of Dancing in the UK were great, and the first American review has just appeared, in advance of publication. Booklist calls it ‘a clever reappraisal of the case’ and concludes: ‘Alternately funny and unsettling, the book examines the historical record, filling in some of the gaps and offering up new answers for some of the case’s key questions. An excellent example of the nonfiction novel.’

You can never be sure how reviewers will react to a book, however much you care about it and believe in it. Dancing is very different from my other novels, but it is a book which I am particularly proud to have written, and so it’s all the more pleasing that the critical response has been so positive.

A Small Step for Martin

…but a giant leap for his morale. I’ve just written the first couple of pages of the new Lake District Mystery, having had my synopsis approved – with enthusiasm! – by my agent.

It took me a long time to write The Serpent Pool, and I’m hoping that I will be able to produce the new one more quickly. One difference of approach is that I’ve reverted to planning the book rather more in advance – something I used to do in my early years as a novelist. I didn’t do much planning with The Serpent Pool, and on the whole, this slowed me down and made much of the writing of the first draft feel like wading through treacle.

I’m not going to say much that is specific about the new book until it is very well advanced (may be a long way off, then!) But I’m sure the writing process itself will prompt thoughts about the craft of fiction which I’m likely to post on this blog.

Now – a change of subject. So far, I’ve read only the first of Stieg Larsson’s three books. I mean to read the other two, but I’m not sure when this will be, due to countless other commitments. Can any reader of this blog help me on one question, please? The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo sees various references to the crime fiction genre (e.g. Val McDermid gets a mention) and what is described as a ‘locked room’ type of mystery. Do the other two books nod towards the genre in a similar way, and if so, in what respects?

Murderland concluded

The third and final episode of ITV’s serial Murderland, by David Pirie, was much meatier than last week’s. We finally learned the explanation for the murder of a single mum and part-time prostitute Sally, whose daughter Carrie, years later, is determined to solve the mystery so that she can get on with the rest of her life.

As part of her detective work, Carrie decided to start working at Cleo’s, the massage parlour where her mother had plied her trade, and this was one of several plot developments that tested my ability to suspend disbelief. The behaviour of a number of shifty characters associated with Cleo’s verged on the improbable – but at least this enabled Carrie to discover what had happened.

The investigation of cold cases fascinates me – as you might expect from Hannah Scarlett’s work in the Lake District Mysteries – and Murderland had plenty going for it. Above all, the acting was first rate. Robbie Coltrane put in a superb performance as Hain the discredited detective who loved Sally, while Carrie past and present was splendidly portrayed by Bel Powley and Amanda Hale respectively.

Watchable though the story was, however, I felt that the detail of the plot didn’t live up to the potential of the basic premise. The suspects other than Hain (who was obviously innocent) were thinly characterised, and the behaviour of the culprit, when unmasked, seemed to me to be unconvincing. Even though his actions did allow for a poignant conclusion to the story, I struggled to believe that particular individual would have acted in the way he did, given how, over many years, he'd successfully got away with murder.

Keswick

I found my trip to the Lakes inspiring on more than one level. I’ve spent too long fiddling with the synopsis for the fifth Lake District Mystery, and wandering around the Lakes put me in the right mood to finish the job. The drive from Grasmere to Keswick is very attractive, and I was only sorry that time didn’t permit a short detour to Castlerigg, to see the old stone circle again.

Keswick is home to just 5,000 people, but it has a thriving atmosphere, and seems to have weathered the recession much better than most places. There’s a busy market on Thursdays and Saturdays, with stalls spilling down the main street from the Moot Hall, which is now a tourist information office. There’s a good second hand bookshop (hooray!) and an equally good independent book store, Bookends, as well as loads of places to eat and drink. The Theatre by the Lake is hugely popular, and I’d love to see a production there one day.

I was entertained by the news placard, which suggests that there isn’t too much everyday drama in real-life Keswick at the moment - impossible to resist the temptation to photograph it. Simply by walking around the town, and along the edge of the lake to Friar’s Crag (the first place John Ruskin remembered visiting as a child), I found I was getting ideas for my story. The atmosphere of Keswick is so charming that it seems mean to disturb it with a murder investigation

But a crime writer’s gotta do what a crime writer’s gotta do!

Back to the Lakes

It seemed like a good idea to take a couple of days off work, for a combined research trip plus pick-me-up. The Lake District really is a wonderful place in which to unwind (as well as a perfect setting for murder mysteries!), and although my trip was all too brief, I felt much the better for it.

We stayed in Keswick, a small town full of charm and character which has not yet featured in the Lake District Mysteries – but soon will! Its setting is magnificent. The bulk of Blencathra isn’t far away, while Derwentwater is a stroll away from the market square.

I’m a great fan of boat trips, and since the weather was good, it was an ideal time for me to have my first sail on Derwentwater, in the launch that travels around the lake, making brief stops at various jetties. It really was quite an idyllic experience, and after the gloom of missing out on the Dagger Awards and a gig in Harrogate last week, it cheered me up no end.

Deja Vu

Last night I got back home from Oxford after an emotional day, but one of genuine happiness. I’d deposited my first born at university – 35 years, almost to the day, since I started a new life at the very same college, reading the very same subject. Lots of scope for nostalgia, especially as his room turned out to be on the floor below the room where I first met the lady who was to become his mother. It all felt a bit surreal.

I was reminded once again, as if I needed a reminder, of the sense of the exciting possibilities of student life, and certainly Oxford has always seemed to me to be a place of infinite possibilities. It was, of course, entertaining to see all the new students, trying not to be embarrassed by their parents. And to revisit old haunts such as the Oxford Union and Blackwell’s. (I was glad to see the bookshop had stocked up with copies of Dancing with the Hangman, and I’ll reflect on the subject of authors visiting bookshops in a future post.)

When I was a student, I wrote a good deal, but struggled to finish any crime fiction. I was too overwhelmed by the challenge of plotting a complex mystery, and the greatest success I had in those days was in writing for radio – a script of mine called ‘The Marrying Kind’ about a bigamist was recorded at Radio Oxford. It was a comedy, and I enjoy humorous writing to this day.

And as I wandered through the city, I added to the photos of the college a shot (it's the picture at the top of this post) of the old Saxon tower in Cornmarket. Which, as readers of the Lake District Mysteries know, is the tower from which Daniel Kind’s partner, Aimee, jumped to her death before the events of The Coffin Trail. But yesterday, it was a tranquil place, albeit dampened by the drizzle. Ah yes, the Oxford rain. I remember it well.

Bank Holiday Blog Thoughts and Questions

I’m currently working on the synopsis for my next book. An exciting experience. Domestic issues and the day job have kept me away from fiction writing for a while, and I’m champing at the bit, really keen to get back to it.

Meanwhile, I was fascinated by the extensive response to my question ‘Why so gruesome?’ The comments certainly did make me think, and illustrated how much a blogger can gain from those who are kind enough to reply to questions (similarly, my essay about Oxford murder stories would have been incomplete, had comments not alerted me to the work of Adam Broome and Victoria Blake.) I’m most grateful. Incidentally, sometimes there are occasions when I can’t publish or reply to comments for a few hours. This is almost invariably because of work demands!

Here’s a question that’s bugging me at the moment. Do you prefer an author to get right into the main story without delay? Or do ‘prologues’ and similar devices help to set the scene. Prologues rather suit the Lake District Mysteries, I think, but although I’ve used them previously, I did without them in The Serpent Pool.

And while I’m at it, if there is anyone expert in Blogger out there, perhaps you could help me to understand how to restore to the sidebar the icons of this blog’s followers. They appear on my Blogger Dashboard, and on preview – but then they disappear. Very mysterious…..

Finally - several people have told me that Facebook is a good idea for writers who want to communicate with readers. So far I've registered with Facebook, but done nothing with it. Any views and/or advice would be very welcome.

Original Sinners

I’ve started work on the paper that I will be delivering at the St Hilda’s Crime and Mystery Weekend in August. It’s an event I’m really looking forward to – a chance to revisit old haunts in Oxford and to meet up with old (all right, yet fairly young!) friends. It’s a few years since I last spoke at St Hilda’s, and the last time I attended the week-end I had the delightful experience of meeting up with John Prest, who was a history don at Balliol when I was a student. John has given me help during the intervening years with the character and work of Daniel Kind, the historian in my Lake District Mysteries.

The theme of the weekend is The Wages of Sin. I’ve received a flyer telling me that speakers have been chosen to match the topic, which says something not entirely flattering about my reputation, but I’m in sinfully good company, with such marvellous writers as Robert Barnard, Kate Charles, Christine Poulson, and Andrew Taylor. I’m proud to count them all as friends. Cilla Masters, another good mate, is one of the after-dinner speakers.

I’ve decided that my paper will focus on sinful victims. I can think of quite a few characters who meet that description – for instance in Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None. But any suggestions from more modern books or authors will be gratefully received!