Last week, I got to hear two good friends talking over how very much they loved the novel Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman. From which point their conversation shifted to trying to understand why they loved it so much, and why some books generally rock one’s reading world, while another on the same or a similar topic may not work the same magic.

Well, I thought, if I not only had the answer to that but could bottle it, I would never have to fear being a writer starving in a garret (aka Mr Gates, look out! 😉 )

Yet alas, I do not have either an answer or a formula, inclining more toward the view, as expressed in the film Shakespeare In Love, that “It’s a mystery …”

I suspect, too, that one could spend a great deal of time analyzing bestsellers and looking for their elements in common, deriving a formula — and then writing something completely soulless.

So “heart”and “soul” probably lie at the heart of what makes stories resonate with readers — but it has to derive from the passion of the writer, and as every author is different, it follows that it’s unlikely there can ever be a formula as to “which” passion, and expressed in “what” way.

Not to mention the reality implied by famous US editor Gordon Lish, in the quote I shared the other week. To paraphrase, that an important part of any book is the juxtaposition of the words and action on the page with the hearts and minds of readers. By implication, a successful work will “speak” to matters of concern to a wide cross section of the reading population — and who can foretell what that may be at any given time? Or what it is that sparks that reaction?

For example, my Eleanor Oliphant–reading friends could not pinpoint what it was that made them like the book and its title character so much, just that they did.

Similarly, it is difficult to say, exactly and precisely, what made a story about an orphan wizard who goes to wizarding school and ends saving the school and eventually the world, resonate quite so powerfully with a generation of readers of all ages, and across many different continents and cultures.

Very often it does seem to be a mystery. So all we, as writers, can do (imho) is write a story we feel passionate about, out of our “heart” and “soul”, and make it the very best we possibly can — because the rest is, in fact, completely out of our hands. O-o

A fortnight ago, I discussed some of the Moments of Grr-Argh that beset the writing life from time to time.

It’s not all such tricky and/or downright frustrating moments, however. This week I’ve had the almost directly opposite experience when finishing off a section of the w.i.p. (Yes, another one: giddy stuff, huh?!)

As a spinoff from that section I noticed something was a bit “off-key” with the ending of a precursor chapter, earlier in the manuscript (ms.)

I wasn’t wrong about that, but when I headed back to fix it, thinking I might have to expand the chapter to remedy the situation, I first read the whole chapter through before making any changes.

The vorpal keyboard…(maybe) 😉

(This, dear paduan, is the way of writing wisdom, a sagacity gained via bitter experience, I may add, as opposed to observation or enlightenment. 😉 )

Having completed my readthrough and reached the offending ending, I realized that I did not have to add anything. All I need do was remove the final paragraph, because the one immediately before it did the required job pretty much perfectly.

Onward!

So as opposed to headdesk and grr-argh, it was “Oh, frabjous day” with the vorpal sword, or in this case vorpal keyboard, going snicker-snack so the author could go galumphing back to the main manuscript without further delay.

Just by way of demonstrating that such felicities do happen sometimes, as do the moments of deeper alchemy I discussed earlier in the year. 🙂

As for that completed section, ’twas a short one, but nonetheless tis done and I’m now moving into a more major sequence. First, though, I believe I need to do a tax return — so we’re back into the realm of writing grr-argh, after all…

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Previous Inside The Writing Life Posts:

• A Little About The Writing Itself
• About Those Muses, Then…
• Naturally Self-Isolating
• Writing Novels, Posting Blogs
• Another Milestone Ticked Off
• A Game Of Two Halves
• Further Reflection on Writing Transitions
• Fun With Friends
• Those Moments Of “Grr-Argh”

Yep, it’s November 1 – and the end of the year is rushing my way; yours, too, I bet!

Anyway, realizing that this is my penultimate Worldbuilding in Fantasy post on the Supernatural Underground, I decided to have  a quick look at several authors and worlds that have wowed me, deep in my reading past as well as in more recent times.

Although that’s still a far from comprehensive list, I hope you’ll still find something to like.

Something for the long winter nights for those settling down by the home fires – or to take away for the summer break for others in this hemisphere who’re thinking that far ahead. 😉

(I’m not sure I am — tis all whooshing by a bit too fast for this author gal! 😏)

But to check out those worlds, here’s the link:

Worldbuilding in Fantasy #10 — A Wealth of Fabulous Worlds

UK/AU/NZ

The About The Characters post series focuses on the minor characters in The Wall Of Night series, in large part because:

“I think it’s the presence of the smaller characters that “makes” a story, creating texture around the main points of view.”

~ from my Legend Award Finalist's Interview, 2013

Initially, the series focused exclusively on characters from The Heir of Night, but now I’m continuing on with minor characters from both The Gathering Of The Lost and Daughter of Blood — in alphabetical order, of course!

This week, we’ve finally broken away from the letter “K” and Daughter of Blood’s stranglehold on the About the Characters action: yep, the letter “L” is getting a look in at last, and The Gathering of the Lost is back in the game. 😉

—

USA

Lady Bonamark: co-ruler of the Bonamark, in the Southern Realms’ dukedom of Emer

“…so the Normarch company had been escorted south to Bonamark, then traveled on with the Marklord’s retinue. Ghiselaine and her companions were swept into Lady Bonamark orbit, riding at the front of the cavalcade and sleeping in a large, richly furnished pavilion at the center of the camp.”

~  from © The Gathering Of The Lost, The Wall of Night Book Two: Chapter 30 — The Welcome Cup

On reflection, the post title should probably be: “The Boy, the mole, the fox and the Horse” by Charlie Mackesy — with a segue to Twitter… O-o” 😉

But not too O-o in this case, I think, and with plenty of 🙂

I feel a little remiss in not having mentioned this wonderful book by Charlie Mackesy here earlier, as I was given it last Christmas and found it delightful.

It’s  an ‘inspirational’ book of combined text and illustrations, centered on the journey of four chance-met companions. Yes, you guessed it: the boy, the mole, the fox, and the horse, encountered in that order. The four are probably best summarised by author and artist Charlie Mackesy in his introduction:

“The boy is full of questions, the mole is greedy for cake. The fox is mainly silent and wary because he’s been hurt by life. The horse is the biggest thing they have ever encountered, and also the gentlest. They are all different, like us, and each has their own weaknesses.”

Together (in the best epic tradition, too), they go on a journey. The book is about the journey and about friendship, about being together and learning from each other, and also to know ourselves. It’s full of wisdom, and beauty, and kindness, encapsulating some great insights without being saccharine. A few I particularly like include:

“One of our greatest freedoms is how we react to things.”

“Nothing beats kindness,” said the horse. “It sits quietly beyond all things.”

“The greatest illusion,” said the mole, “is that life should be perfect.”

Imho, “The Boy, the mole, the fox and the Horse” is well worth reading at any time, both for the words and the illustrations, but may be even more worthwhile in our current times.

And that Twitter segue? Well, that comes from the fox:

“To be honest, I often feel I have nothing interesting to say,” said the fox.

Tbh, that is often how I feel when on the river-in-spate of opinion, information, images, interactions, and spam that is Twitter!

Then again, on the other hand, like the four characters of Charlie Mackesy’s book, I feel I’ve met some very special people via Twitter, and seen fabulous images of places, artefacts, and people that might never have crossed my horizon otherwise:

“Sometimes all you hear about is the hate, but there is more love in this world than you could possibly imagine.”

A different sort of “grr argh”

In writing a multi-book story, there are always moments of what I, borrowing from the Buffy ‘verse, describe as moments of “grr-argh”—which in Buffy is what happens when the unwary encounter a vampire. Well, the vampire goes “grr-argh” (or some variant thereof) and the unwary runs away screaming (if they’re lucky…)

Inclusion…

In less elevated environs, such as those surrounding the writing of books, they could also be called moments of hair-tearing, or alternatively, head-desking.

Continuity errors are a reliable source of such moments, i.e. when the author realises they can’t do x-y-z here, as long planned, because way back whenever, the character or characters did a-b-c under the same or near-similar circumstances. So to do x-y-z now would be inconsistent: shock, horror. (Actually, I do in fact, regard continuity errors with ‘fear and loathing.’ Just saying.)

…in any of these…

Another moment-of-headdesk relatively recently was discovering that a minor but fun anecdote/fact I have consistently edited out of the previous three manuscripts because it wasn’t vital to their storylines (and reducing overall word count always a pressing consideration), would have made a really great set-up for something not quite so minor in WALL #4… Headdesk indeed!

…could’ve been good…

This should not, by the way, be confused with that far more major dilemma “writing oneself into a corner.” It just means the author (yep, that’s right: me!) has to work a little harder in this case, to build the setup within this book. Still, definitely a tad frustrating, although probably unsurprising given it is a multi-book story.

Heigh ho… Or to put it another way, just another regular day in the life literaire. 😀

—
.
Previous Inside The Writing Life Posts:

• A Little About The Writing Itself
• About Those Muses, Then…
• Naturally Self-Isolating
• Writing Novels, Posting Blogs
• Another Milestone Ticked Off
• A Game Of Two Halves
• Further Reflection on Writing Transitions
• Fun With Friends

“[Your book is not about] what happens to the people on the page: it’s about what happens to readers in their hearts and minds”

~ Gordon Lish

—

When I first read this quote, I felt one hundred per cent agreement. I thought, “Wow, that’s so true!”

And then, I thought, “Yes, but the two aren’t wholly disconnected. They can’t be, because in order for something to happen to readers’ hearts and minds, something of reasonable moment does have to happen on the page.”

Nonetheless, the quote speaks to me because I feel that a story can’t just be a matter of ‘this happened, then this happened, and then that happened.’ It’s all about the feeling, within and between the characters, which in turn works on the reader, to engage, or repel, or enthrall, depending on the story…

So I come back to loving the quote! 🙂

In terms of who Gordon Lish is, he is an American writer and editor, born in 1934, with a long career as editor with outlets/organisations such as Esquire, Knopf, and the Quarterly.

USA

The About The Characters post series focuses on the minor characters in The Wall Of Night series, in large part because:

“I think it’s the presence of the smaller characters that “makes” a story, creating texture around the main points of view.”

~ from my Legend Award Finalist's Interview, 2013

Initially, the series focused exclusively on characters from The Heir of Night, but now I’m continuing on with minor characters from both The Gathering Of The Lost and Daughter of Blood — in alphabetical order, of course!

At present, we’re still very much in Daughter of Blood territory—but this is the very last entry for the marvellous letter “K.” 🙂

—

UK/AU/NZ

Kylin: an attendant to Lady Myrathis, a Daughter of the House of Blood and the bride pledged to marry the Earl of Night

“Completely unsuitable, of course.” A voice spoke from the adjoining dayroom, and Myr recognized the speaker as Kylin, another of her new attendants. A smothered laugh followed…

Kylin is like Kolthis, Myr thought: she may not actively intend me to hear, but she doesn’t care if I do.

~ from Daughter of Blood, The Wall Of Night Book Three – Chapter 20, Emissaries of Night

I wasn’t always a reader of detective novels and police procedurals, but was introduced to them by my sister, primarily through Henning Mankell’s Kurt Wallender novels. I’m still not a big reader in the genre, but there are some great characters and stories out there to be discovered. Plus when you’re (“one is” 😉 ) writing in one field, i.e. fantasy (but even more specifically at present, epic fantasy), reading a completely different kind of story can be really enjoyable, as well as relaxing.

So when a friend, who also just happens to be the local rep for Macmillan, offered an advance copy of The Darkest Evening, the latest and ninth novel in the Vera Stanhope series by Ann Cleeves, I was not going to say “no.” No indeed!

For those who may not know (whether from the books or television series), Vera Stanhope is an eccentric, middle-aged, Northern English, Detective Inspector. Both Ann Cleeves’ two major detective series, Vera Stanhope and Shetland, are in what I think of as the “Kurt Wallender” style of detective fiction. The main characters are police officers (as opposed to private detectives like Kate Atkinson’s Jackson Brodie—recently discussed here—or Lee Childs’ Jack Reacher) but the focus of the story, and the series, is as much about the personality and private life of the officer, as well as their relationships with their colleagues, as it is about the crime and “whodunnit.”

Despite these similarities, if detective fiction is a continuum, then I believe Ann Cleeves’ novels sit closer to those of Kate Atkinson than they do to the works of Henning Mankell, or Lynda La Plante’s Prime Suspect. In the latter two cases, and despite the importance of the character interactions, the crime and the unravelling thereof remain front and centre of the storytelling.

In Ann Cleeves’ novels, and Kate Atkinson’s Jackson Brodie series as well, the crime, its perpetrator, and the solving thereof, are far less important to the story (imho) than the internal life of the main character. In this case that’s Vera, her close colleagues (chiefly Joe Ashworth and Holly Jackman) and the people most closely associated with the crime, either through proximity to the scene or knowledge of the victim. Their lives, motivations, and secrets, are what the story is about, rather than the architecture of the crime and psychology of the killer. Although the latter elements do come into it, they’re just not as central to the story as they would be in some other types of crime fiction.

I think the character studies, which also include family and community dynamics, are what I really like about this style of fiction. In this particular story, the world is small: a country house, those most closely associated with it, and the nearby small town—to the extent the network of the crime extends there. Despite this restricted canvas, I’m not sure I would describe The Darkest Evening (or the Vera Stanhope series generally) as “cosy mysteries”: there’s a little too much realism to the character studies for that.

I realise that I’m not telling you much about the actual plot, instead focusing on what kind of story it is—which is what I believe is most important in this case. Being detective/police procedural fiction, it’s a given that there is a crime (in this case a murder), suspects, and an investigation. In The Darkest Evening, both the scene of the murder and some of those present are directly connected with Vera’s own past, which enables the series to develop alongside the specific story being told. Otherwise, if you like the sound of the character-driven storytelling, I can only encourage you to dive in and read. J

As you have probably gathered, I am reasonably confident that if you enjoy Kate Atkinson’s Jackson Brodie novels and Henning Mankell’s Kurt Wallender series, as well as TV shows like Broad church—and of course the Vera Stanhope and Shetland television series—then you’ll enjoy The Darkest Evening.

To confirm, I read an uncorrected proof copy (373 pp) of The Darkest Evening, supplied by the publisher’s representative.

USA

My last About The Characters post featured Koris, a marine escorting Lord Nimor, the Sea House’ envoy.

Posting about Koris recalled a conversation with a friend away-aways back, who was puzzled about why I called the Sea House soldiers “marines.” Her puzzlement chielfy arose because she thought marines were, by definition, specifically a US military corps.

My reply was that, in fact, “marines” is precisely the right term for troops trained to serve on land or sea, in the same way that “sailors” or “mariners” refers to those that sail in ships. So although I could make up a term, which I would then have to explain, it seemed far easier just to use the established term, exactly as I have with “sailors”, “mariners”, “guards”, “warriors”, “knights” et al, throughout the trilogy.

In The Wall Of Night series, Sea is the Derai House (think clan, or even nation) dedicated to ships, the sea, and keeping the Derai Alliance’s maritime trading routes open. In addition to the mariners that sail the ships, Sea also fields soldiers dedicated to fighting on those ships, but also capable of fighting on land.

Hence Koris, in Daughter of Blood, is one of the marines escorting the Sea House envoy, Lord Nimor, in a land-based journey.

UK/AU/NZ

Historically, marine corps go back as far as Roman times, with ship-based infantry being used to invade opposing ships. The Venetian maritime empire employed “Fanti de Mar” (i.e. sea infantry)  on its vessels, a practice adopted by both the Spanish and Portugese in the 1500 and 1600s—both the precursors of modern-day marine corps in those countries.

White it’s true that the US Marine Corps is probably the most famous such corps currently, the UK has also had Royal Marines as part of the Royal Navy for many centuries. The UK marines played a particularly prominent part in the Napoleonic wars, taking part in several significant land-based incursions as well as playing a major part in battles such as Trafalgar.

Their motto, Per Mare, Per Terram, translates as “by sea and by land.” The Royal Marines remain part of the Royal Navy, whereas the US Marine Corps are a distinct branch of the armed services, although still (as I understand it) part of the Department of the Navy.

At any rate, I hope this potted history is sufficient testament to “marine” as a common term for (originally) ship-based infantry uses in both sea battles and amphibious operations—exactly like the Sea House marines in The Wall of Night series. 🙂