G.N. Hetherington's Blog
September 10, 2018
The Unconventional Leading Man and the “Damsel” in distress.
In 2015 when I began this latest chapter of my life, I had no idea the direction it was going to take me in, and certainly not that now, barely three years later I’m about to publish the seventh (!) book in a series about perhaps one of the least likely leading men committed to print. But that’s what I like about him. I’ve said it before, Hugo came to me fully formed, warts and all, and what you see now has barely changed from my original vision. In 2015 I wrote the first chapter of what was to become ‘Un homme qui attend’ as a sort of done that now, move on kind of thing. I had no intention to go past the first chapter and only did because the two people I showed it to seemed keen and nagged me for more.
The feedback from that first chapter taught me one particular valuable lesson, the importance of not always listening to feedback! My erstwhile husband and fiercest critic and supporter, Dan, handed it back to me and said something along the lines of ‘great, he’s a bit of a Mr Bean character.’ I was non- plussed to say the least. Mr Bean? That really had been the furthest thing from my mind and not at all how I had envisioned this tall Francophile with the mop of blond hair, emerald green eyes and an awkward stature. As it turned out, it was more about his reluctance to get off the Eurostar that seemed like a bit of a farce to Dan but it served me well to trust my instinct and not necessarily write with other people in mind. That point later became even more evident when the second reader announced her vehement dislike of the Benoit character (or Bennoy as she mispronounced his name). I was again struck by the marked difference between my vision of these characters and someone else’s. A second person later also expressed their dislike of Ben and for a moment I almost considered writing him out of the stories. Ironic really because one of the most frequent comments I get as the series has gone on is how much Ben is loved and that he isn’t in the books enough! That proved to me it wasn’t just me who ‘saw’ these wonderfully imperfect characters.
One of the other most frequent questions I get asked is, is Hugo based on me? Or is Ben? Or are they based on my husband? The truth is it’s impossible to really answer that question. Hugo is me, and he isn’t me. He’s better looking than me, smokes like a trouper because I can’t and is always fiddling with his hair because I haven’t got any. I don’t need a psychiatrist to tell me that. What’s interesting to me is the way we differ, because we do. For the most part it would be silly of me to say that what Hugo and the other characters say or do isn’t directly influenced by me and my politics, beliefs etc. But I always take it in context. I’m not the one in Montgenoux dealing with a serial killer so it’s uncharted territory for me. I can see me in Hugo and I can see me in Ben, same with Dan. The character of Etienne Martine, how technically savvy and knowledgable he is and his love of Hawaiian shirts is a definite nod to Dan and his, while the fact he wears shorts and flip flops for as much of the year as he can get away with is a definite nod to me. The similarities are there, I can see them and I’m okay with that. I like to think Hugo and Ben in particular are a pretty good pair of multi-dimensional characters.
The sexuality of the characters was in no way deliberate. I had no plans to make the lead character gay, and really didn’t decide until half way through the first book. It’s hinted that Hugo has only been in two or three relationships and it’s suggested that one of them was with a woman. I wasn’t being difficult then, or hedging my bets and hoping to please all audiences - I’m not that smart! It was rather about the character evolving in front of me. Hugo was never going to be the sort of man you could label, gay, straight, bi. To me he was a ‘fall in love with the person’ sort of person, a prospect a lot of the LBGTQ+ community have a problem with because it seems like a cop out. Somebody once snipped I was representing the LBGTQ community badly by making Ben a nurse (a supposedly prominently female occupation), insinuating he wasn’t “very masculine,” the first issue I had with it was they’d obviously missed the part where I explained WHY Ben had become a nurse (a finger up to his father who said he wasn’t allowed to be a nurse because “only woman were”) and in the end he stuck with it because he found he was actually very good at it and enjoyed helping people. The second reason was because why SHOULDN’T he be a nurse? He is no more responsible to conform to gender or any other kind of stereotypes than any of us are.
The same goes for Hugo. The reason he never said he was gay, or bi-sexual in the first book was because he didn’t care in the same way I never have. If you’re lucky enough to be comfortable in your
own skin you don’t need someone else apportioning a label to you and with Hugo it’s just that. His private life is just that, private. Of course, we’re taking about a book here so it had to be explored and my vision of the blossoming relationship was that Ben would have to do the chasing and for some it came across as aggressive. Perhaps it was, but only because Ben was nursing his own insecurities and realised he was going to have to do the running. It is because Hugo can see behind the bluff and bravado that he finally decides to take a chance.
The rest as they say is history. The other danger with love stories in books is that, what do you do with the love interest? Have them hanging on the hero’s every word? Do they always need to be rescued? I spent a lot of time thinking about that and because the second book was almost finished before the first was even published, it gave me a chance to establish a formula which worked for me. It didn’t sit right with me that Hugo and Ben should “just” become a happily married couple or fitting into any stereotypes if that was not what the story called for. My original notes were quite clear. Ben wouldn’t appear much in book 2 because he had no part in the story and to have shoe-horned him in would have felt wrong. I already knew he would get his own major story in book 3 (it actually was pushed to book 4, but in book 3 he was back with his own major story arc too).
I didn’t want the two of them to be poster boys for any cause, other than their own and I realise that decision has probably altered the course of the books and their reach. A well respected editor told me the books would have a better chance of mainstream success if the ‘gayness’ was implied rather than discussed openly. At first I thought she was wrong, but she probably wasn’t. The world has changed remarkably, but there are still going to be people who don’t like the gay part of these books and there’s not a lot I can do about that and take no offence except perhaps on comments such as “what started out as an exciting, well written thriller was spoiled when it turned into a queer tale.” If they’d said romantic tale I wouldn’t have minded that particular comment so much. Conversely, any gay theme may attract people interested in that part of it but again they accuse it of “not being gay enough.”
My mantra for these books is simple and I never veer from it. A crime is committed and Hugo solves it. Fin. There might be a bit of banter, a bit of chatting, a bit of sloppy loved-upness in between, but the core of it is the story, and my most unconventional of leading men. I always felt sorry for Agatha Christie when I read she hated Hercule Poirot but had to keep writing him because her audience demanded it. Perhaps that’s why Hugo came to me fully formed. He wanted me to like him, and I do, and thankfully, so do lots of others! So as long as the stories come to me, long live Hugo and his cast of unlikely heroes!
Much love, and wishes of good health and peace of mind.
Gary
September 2018
The feedback from that first chapter taught me one particular valuable lesson, the importance of not always listening to feedback! My erstwhile husband and fiercest critic and supporter, Dan, handed it back to me and said something along the lines of ‘great, he’s a bit of a Mr Bean character.’ I was non- plussed to say the least. Mr Bean? That really had been the furthest thing from my mind and not at all how I had envisioned this tall Francophile with the mop of blond hair, emerald green eyes and an awkward stature. As it turned out, it was more about his reluctance to get off the Eurostar that seemed like a bit of a farce to Dan but it served me well to trust my instinct and not necessarily write with other people in mind. That point later became even more evident when the second reader announced her vehement dislike of the Benoit character (or Bennoy as she mispronounced his name). I was again struck by the marked difference between my vision of these characters and someone else’s. A second person later also expressed their dislike of Ben and for a moment I almost considered writing him out of the stories. Ironic really because one of the most frequent comments I get as the series has gone on is how much Ben is loved and that he isn’t in the books enough! That proved to me it wasn’t just me who ‘saw’ these wonderfully imperfect characters.
One of the other most frequent questions I get asked is, is Hugo based on me? Or is Ben? Or are they based on my husband? The truth is it’s impossible to really answer that question. Hugo is me, and he isn’t me. He’s better looking than me, smokes like a trouper because I can’t and is always fiddling with his hair because I haven’t got any. I don’t need a psychiatrist to tell me that. What’s interesting to me is the way we differ, because we do. For the most part it would be silly of me to say that what Hugo and the other characters say or do isn’t directly influenced by me and my politics, beliefs etc. But I always take it in context. I’m not the one in Montgenoux dealing with a serial killer so it’s uncharted territory for me. I can see me in Hugo and I can see me in Ben, same with Dan. The character of Etienne Martine, how technically savvy and knowledgable he is and his love of Hawaiian shirts is a definite nod to Dan and his, while the fact he wears shorts and flip flops for as much of the year as he can get away with is a definite nod to me. The similarities are there, I can see them and I’m okay with that. I like to think Hugo and Ben in particular are a pretty good pair of multi-dimensional characters.
The sexuality of the characters was in no way deliberate. I had no plans to make the lead character gay, and really didn’t decide until half way through the first book. It’s hinted that Hugo has only been in two or three relationships and it’s suggested that one of them was with a woman. I wasn’t being difficult then, or hedging my bets and hoping to please all audiences - I’m not that smart! It was rather about the character evolving in front of me. Hugo was never going to be the sort of man you could label, gay, straight, bi. To me he was a ‘fall in love with the person’ sort of person, a prospect a lot of the LBGTQ+ community have a problem with because it seems like a cop out. Somebody once snipped I was representing the LBGTQ community badly by making Ben a nurse (a supposedly prominently female occupation), insinuating he wasn’t “very masculine,” the first issue I had with it was they’d obviously missed the part where I explained WHY Ben had become a nurse (a finger up to his father who said he wasn’t allowed to be a nurse because “only woman were”) and in the end he stuck with it because he found he was actually very good at it and enjoyed helping people. The second reason was because why SHOULDN’T he be a nurse? He is no more responsible to conform to gender or any other kind of stereotypes than any of us are.
The same goes for Hugo. The reason he never said he was gay, or bi-sexual in the first book was because he didn’t care in the same way I never have. If you’re lucky enough to be comfortable in your
own skin you don’t need someone else apportioning a label to you and with Hugo it’s just that. His private life is just that, private. Of course, we’re taking about a book here so it had to be explored and my vision of the blossoming relationship was that Ben would have to do the chasing and for some it came across as aggressive. Perhaps it was, but only because Ben was nursing his own insecurities and realised he was going to have to do the running. It is because Hugo can see behind the bluff and bravado that he finally decides to take a chance.
The rest as they say is history. The other danger with love stories in books is that, what do you do with the love interest? Have them hanging on the hero’s every word? Do they always need to be rescued? I spent a lot of time thinking about that and because the second book was almost finished before the first was even published, it gave me a chance to establish a formula which worked for me. It didn’t sit right with me that Hugo and Ben should “just” become a happily married couple or fitting into any stereotypes if that was not what the story called for. My original notes were quite clear. Ben wouldn’t appear much in book 2 because he had no part in the story and to have shoe-horned him in would have felt wrong. I already knew he would get his own major story in book 3 (it actually was pushed to book 4, but in book 3 he was back with his own major story arc too).
I didn’t want the two of them to be poster boys for any cause, other than their own and I realise that decision has probably altered the course of the books and their reach. A well respected editor told me the books would have a better chance of mainstream success if the ‘gayness’ was implied rather than discussed openly. At first I thought she was wrong, but she probably wasn’t. The world has changed remarkably, but there are still going to be people who don’t like the gay part of these books and there’s not a lot I can do about that and take no offence except perhaps on comments such as “what started out as an exciting, well written thriller was spoiled when it turned into a queer tale.” If they’d said romantic tale I wouldn’t have minded that particular comment so much. Conversely, any gay theme may attract people interested in that part of it but again they accuse it of “not being gay enough.”
My mantra for these books is simple and I never veer from it. A crime is committed and Hugo solves it. Fin. There might be a bit of banter, a bit of chatting, a bit of sloppy loved-upness in between, but the core of it is the story, and my most unconventional of leading men. I always felt sorry for Agatha Christie when I read she hated Hercule Poirot but had to keep writing him because her audience demanded it. Perhaps that’s why Hugo came to me fully formed. He wanted me to like him, and I do, and thankfully, so do lots of others! So as long as the stories come to me, long live Hugo and his cast of unlikely heroes!
Much love, and wishes of good health and peace of mind.
Gary
September 2018
La Famille Lacroix or Grief by any other name.
The idea for ‘La Famille Lacroix’ came to me in the oddest of places. Oh wait, who am I kidding? They ALWAYS come to me in the oddest of places and at the oddest of times. But this particular story came to me fully formed and ready to be written. We were on one of our overnight trips to Paris and as well as doing at least one touristy thing we always make sure I get to spend time wandering around a Paris cemetery. Seriously, I know it’s a bit maudlin but French graveyards are some of the most beautiful, moving and peaceful places I have ever been to. I feel as at home there as I do walking on a beach (my other favourite pastime). Each tomb is different, the effort expended is often breathtaking and you can feel the love and loss in the air.
Anyway, on this particular visit I was still on a high from the Julien Doré concert the previous evening so was just ambling along when I came across one particular tomb which changed it all. And in that instant, I saw the characters who inhabited ‘The Famille Lacroix.’ I took a photograph (not something I ever do inside the graveyards and I won’t share it here out of respect) because I wanted to remember it. The grave contained an entire family who all died on the same day. I don’t know why and I haven’t tried to find out, because that’s none of my business. But it did ignite a spark and I was reminded I had seen another grave similar to this one many years ago in the UK. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and by the time I left the cemetery the story was plotted. By the time we made it back to London that evening, I’d designed the cover and within a week the artist I work with had drawn it. ‘La Famille Lacroix’ was off and running.
As is often the case, months passed before I jotted down the first lines but when I started writing something struck me, something which had never really occurred to me that afternoon when I stumbled upon the original grave. In my story eleven people - men, women, children and babies, all from the same family die in a fire in Montgenoux. Eleven. When we lose someone in our day to day lives it is often a consuming, horrific event, and it wasn’t until I began this book I realised how difficult it must be to get your head around such a monumental loss. In the book, Hugo and the rest of Montgenoux are dazed by the enormity of the death of eleven people. It’s almost as if it’s too hard to process, to comprehend the loss of an entire family, the space they used to inhabit, now to be empty. If you are left behind, what do you do? Do you grieve for them all, or are you more sad about some than others relating to how close you were to them? It is worse if the person is very old or very young. Or does it make no difference whatsoever? And then it struck me, grief is personal, intensely personal and different for everyone. It has to be, that’s how we cope. When someone we know loses someone we hope to do the best for them, to be there for them in their time of need, but invariably there comes a point when we stop asking how they are, maybe because we don’t want to upset them when we keep mentioning it, but also because we believe there has to come a point when it is time to move on. After all, we’re told the dead wouldn’t want us to be sad once they are gone. But anyone who has grieved knows how difficult it is to accept that. How they come to you in the dark of night when sleep won’t.
Time to move on. Those are words I hate to type because I don’t believe them, but I see them every day and I understand them. In the book, a man is devastated by the loss of his brother, is it because he is hiding something? A woman mourns her daughter, is it guilt because she never really liked her? A woman cries over the loss of her friend, but is her grief amplified by the fact she feels relief to be free of her prettier, cleverer friend? That’s why grief is personal and extreme. We can be saddened by the loss of a relative, and devastated by the death of a pet and we have to accept that both are fine and never judge someone’s personal journey. Hugo encounters that in the book, because it’s a little amplified. Why is so-and-so moving on so quickly? Did they not care? Or why is so-and-so apparently over the top in their grief, so much so it almost feels forced or fake. The truth is, our emotions are often out of our control at such times and there’s no doubt we can become a slave to them. They can consume us one day and set us free another. But the one thing we shouldn’t feel is shame, no matter how someone makes us feel about how we deal with loss or how one loss devastates us while another touches us for a time and then moves to our memories. We should not judge, we should talk and we
should ask that they are okay. Reminding someone of a loss isn’t the wrong thing to do, it will always be right, even if it stabs the slowly healing wound. That’s what I’m learning from this book. Anyone who knows me probably knows my last few years have been marred by these particular emotions but it doesn’t make me an expert, quite the contrary in fact because when you’re in the eye of the storm the last thing you care about is worrying why you’re there, it’s about making sure it doesn’t drag you down.
All of this being said, La Famille Lacroix, is shaping up to be one of my favourite Hugo books. After the difficult Le cri de Coeur, it’s a joy to be back in Montgenoux and the story is exciting and interesting for me. I hope you’ll feel the same, there are even a splattering of light hearted moments in there too, and I guarantee by the end of it you’ll be desperate to make sure Hugo finally makes his appointment with the optician!
Until next time,
much love and wishes of good health and peace of mind.
Gary
September 2018
Anyway, on this particular visit I was still on a high from the Julien Doré concert the previous evening so was just ambling along when I came across one particular tomb which changed it all. And in that instant, I saw the characters who inhabited ‘The Famille Lacroix.’ I took a photograph (not something I ever do inside the graveyards and I won’t share it here out of respect) because I wanted to remember it. The grave contained an entire family who all died on the same day. I don’t know why and I haven’t tried to find out, because that’s none of my business. But it did ignite a spark and I was reminded I had seen another grave similar to this one many years ago in the UK. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and by the time I left the cemetery the story was plotted. By the time we made it back to London that evening, I’d designed the cover and within a week the artist I work with had drawn it. ‘La Famille Lacroix’ was off and running.
As is often the case, months passed before I jotted down the first lines but when I started writing something struck me, something which had never really occurred to me that afternoon when I stumbled upon the original grave. In my story eleven people - men, women, children and babies, all from the same family die in a fire in Montgenoux. Eleven. When we lose someone in our day to day lives it is often a consuming, horrific event, and it wasn’t until I began this book I realised how difficult it must be to get your head around such a monumental loss. In the book, Hugo and the rest of Montgenoux are dazed by the enormity of the death of eleven people. It’s almost as if it’s too hard to process, to comprehend the loss of an entire family, the space they used to inhabit, now to be empty. If you are left behind, what do you do? Do you grieve for them all, or are you more sad about some than others relating to how close you were to them? It is worse if the person is very old or very young. Or does it make no difference whatsoever? And then it struck me, grief is personal, intensely personal and different for everyone. It has to be, that’s how we cope. When someone we know loses someone we hope to do the best for them, to be there for them in their time of need, but invariably there comes a point when we stop asking how they are, maybe because we don’t want to upset them when we keep mentioning it, but also because we believe there has to come a point when it is time to move on. After all, we’re told the dead wouldn’t want us to be sad once they are gone. But anyone who has grieved knows how difficult it is to accept that. How they come to you in the dark of night when sleep won’t.
Time to move on. Those are words I hate to type because I don’t believe them, but I see them every day and I understand them. In the book, a man is devastated by the loss of his brother, is it because he is hiding something? A woman mourns her daughter, is it guilt because she never really liked her? A woman cries over the loss of her friend, but is her grief amplified by the fact she feels relief to be free of her prettier, cleverer friend? That’s why grief is personal and extreme. We can be saddened by the loss of a relative, and devastated by the death of a pet and we have to accept that both are fine and never judge someone’s personal journey. Hugo encounters that in the book, because it’s a little amplified. Why is so-and-so moving on so quickly? Did they not care? Or why is so-and-so apparently over the top in their grief, so much so it almost feels forced or fake. The truth is, our emotions are often out of our control at such times and there’s no doubt we can become a slave to them. They can consume us one day and set us free another. But the one thing we shouldn’t feel is shame, no matter how someone makes us feel about how we deal with loss or how one loss devastates us while another touches us for a time and then moves to our memories. We should not judge, we should talk and we
should ask that they are okay. Reminding someone of a loss isn’t the wrong thing to do, it will always be right, even if it stabs the slowly healing wound. That’s what I’m learning from this book. Anyone who knows me probably knows my last few years have been marred by these particular emotions but it doesn’t make me an expert, quite the contrary in fact because when you’re in the eye of the storm the last thing you care about is worrying why you’re there, it’s about making sure it doesn’t drag you down.
All of this being said, La Famille Lacroix, is shaping up to be one of my favourite Hugo books. After the difficult Le cri de Coeur, it’s a joy to be back in Montgenoux and the story is exciting and interesting for me. I hope you’ll feel the same, there are even a splattering of light hearted moments in there too, and I guarantee by the end of it you’ll be desperate to make sure Hugo finally makes his appointment with the optician!
Until next time,
much love and wishes of good health and peace of mind.
Gary
September 2018
July 21, 2018
The Difficult Seventh Book
Yesterday I typed “the end” and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Okay, maybe not “the end,” rather “конец.” Not a “Fin” in sight, because this time our Hugo is in Russia, so there is also a distinct lack of ouis, nons, d’accords and désolés but in case you miss practicing your languages you’ll find a splattering of dahs, nyets and dasvidanyas to tide you over until we’re back in Montgenoux. Ah, Montgenoux. Who knew I could miss it so much in my sojourn to snowy Russia? Le Cri de Coeur was originally conceived with the notion to make each investigation a stand-alone story as is the case in many others serial books, allowing new readers to dip in and out without having to read the previous books in a series (in Hugo’s case, six). I’d tied up loose ends in book 6 (L’Imponderable) and even ended it without the customary cliffhanger. But something went wrong. Not writers block but just life in general. I know it sounds a bit conceited to say, but honestly the previous six books seemed to write themselves, I don’t remember any struggles, maybe the odd bit of procrastination but in the end all six were written in two years.
In July 2017 I began Le Cri de Coeur while finishing off book 6 and getting book 5 ready for publication (I always work in threes for some reason - edit, write, publish) but I was well and truly derailed. If you’re reading this the chances are you’ll know why, life kicked me where it hurts and for once my strength deserted me. The good thing however was these stories seem to want to be written, so even if I don’t feel like it, they keep nagging at me. The new year came and I was on a roll but then came a sprained shoulder which limited my progress for about three months and once better it was a case of getting to the end. The end, however, seemed to be taking an age to get to, and finally when I got to page 550 and still wasn’t finished I realised I had to stop and go back to the beginning to figure out a way to simplify the story, which ultimately became easier said than done, characters had to be written out, plots changed, new characters added and slowly from the pile of discarded pages appeared a new book. The finished manuscript is still nudging 550 pages but once it goes through the editing process it may lose a few.
Typing “конец.” was a relief, a chance to put this particular chapter to bed and move on. In the first chapter of “La Famille Lacroix” Hugo climbs out of his trusty (but now a bit worse for wear) Citroen, flicks on his glasses, lights a cigarette and walks across the cobbles towards the Mairie where his team awaits him and it really did feel like a homecoming for us all. Back with familiar friends which is often what we need most at times of darkness in our life. Don’t get me wrong, Le Cri de Coeur isn’t all doom and gloom, and my difficulty with it wasn’t to do with the book, rather the clouds in my brain at the time. Structurally, it shares a lot with book 2 in the series (Les Fantômes du Château) as most of the action takes place within the grounds of the Chinese Embassy which is placed on lockdown after Hugo discovers a box half buried in the snow, of course he looks inside and the contents are, well, let’s just say a bit grisly... Of course because it’s set in Russia, there’s a bit of cold war rhetoric, spies and double-agents, but all wrapped in a neat Hugo bow and with his unique take on things! There’s a bit of danger (oh no, Ben!) and instead of a cliffhanger at the end we get one at the beginning. We first see Hugo when he is waking up injured in a Moscow hospital. How did he get there and why is he injured? Where are Ben and Baptiste?
Ultimately, I’m glad I’ve made it to the end of the difficult seventh book and I hope you’ll think so too later in the year but one thing I’m really looking forward to is you all getting to the chapter called “The Ouija Board” (oh yes, no un, deux, trois in this book, the chapters all have names) because I’m sure I’ll be able to hear the collective cries of “No, don’t spell out that name!!!” I’ll leave you on that note and give you a metaphorical and knowing wink.
Much love, and wishes of good health and peace of mind.
Gary
In July 2017 I began Le Cri de Coeur while finishing off book 6 and getting book 5 ready for publication (I always work in threes for some reason - edit, write, publish) but I was well and truly derailed. If you’re reading this the chances are you’ll know why, life kicked me where it hurts and for once my strength deserted me. The good thing however was these stories seem to want to be written, so even if I don’t feel like it, they keep nagging at me. The new year came and I was on a roll but then came a sprained shoulder which limited my progress for about three months and once better it was a case of getting to the end. The end, however, seemed to be taking an age to get to, and finally when I got to page 550 and still wasn’t finished I realised I had to stop and go back to the beginning to figure out a way to simplify the story, which ultimately became easier said than done, characters had to be written out, plots changed, new characters added and slowly from the pile of discarded pages appeared a new book. The finished manuscript is still nudging 550 pages but once it goes through the editing process it may lose a few.
Typing “конец.” was a relief, a chance to put this particular chapter to bed and move on. In the first chapter of “La Famille Lacroix” Hugo climbs out of his trusty (but now a bit worse for wear) Citroen, flicks on his glasses, lights a cigarette and walks across the cobbles towards the Mairie where his team awaits him and it really did feel like a homecoming for us all. Back with familiar friends which is often what we need most at times of darkness in our life. Don’t get me wrong, Le Cri de Coeur isn’t all doom and gloom, and my difficulty with it wasn’t to do with the book, rather the clouds in my brain at the time. Structurally, it shares a lot with book 2 in the series (Les Fantômes du Château) as most of the action takes place within the grounds of the Chinese Embassy which is placed on lockdown after Hugo discovers a box half buried in the snow, of course he looks inside and the contents are, well, let’s just say a bit grisly... Of course because it’s set in Russia, there’s a bit of cold war rhetoric, spies and double-agents, but all wrapped in a neat Hugo bow and with his unique take on things! There’s a bit of danger (oh no, Ben!) and instead of a cliffhanger at the end we get one at the beginning. We first see Hugo when he is waking up injured in a Moscow hospital. How did he get there and why is he injured? Where are Ben and Baptiste?
Ultimately, I’m glad I’ve made it to the end of the difficult seventh book and I hope you’ll think so too later in the year but one thing I’m really looking forward to is you all getting to the chapter called “The Ouija Board” (oh yes, no un, deux, trois in this book, the chapters all have names) because I’m sure I’ll be able to hear the collective cries of “No, don’t spell out that name!!!” I’ll leave you on that note and give you a metaphorical and knowing wink.
Much love, and wishes of good health and peace of mind.
Gary
March 29, 2018
The Quandary of L’Imponderable
The Quandary of L’Imponderable Friday 16th March 2018
As I write this, less than one day before the release of the sixth (!) book in the Hugo Duchamp series, I am reminded how each time a book comes out I am convinced it is the worst yet and that no-one is going to enjoy it. I’m reminded primarily because I’ve hit page 400 in the next book and I’ve come to the dreaded point where the delete button seems my only option. But then I looked at the gorgeous promo poster for ‘L’Imponderable’ and was taken back to when I was at the same point in writing that one. I did delete it. Twice. I would have done it a third time but life overtook me and I decided to stick with it. Those who have read it say its the best one yet, which is great and I was flattered for like a few seconds until me being me, my next thought was, ‘what was wrong with the others if this is so much better?’
Writing is a lonely business and it’s easy to get lost in what goes on around you, caught up in a mismatch of is such-and-such a book better than mine, or is it worse? Ultimately, neither matters. When I really decided to give the Hugo series a go after a long break from writing, my only stipulation was to do it for me, to write a book I might enjoy with characters who felt real and were flawed. As you probably know by now, I only wrote the first chapter as a sort of joke, pretending to write but for some reason Hugo and Montgenoux weren’t satisfied with just one chapter. Could I have done it better? Absolutely. Would I go back and change things? Nope. An editor from a big publishing house read ‘Un homme qui attend’ and said it had potential to be a best seller but to do so there would have to be certain changes. I think you know where I’m going here. The implication was not so much as Hugo’s personal life should be eradicated but perhaps sanitised, implied even, but not so forefront to the stories. That may be so, but that’s a job for another writer. I don’t pretend to receive divine inspiration when I write these books, but I most certainly believe my only talent as a writer is to listen to the characters and the story and not try to please to someone else. That is why, when I am asked a lot (and I mean a lot!) why Ben isn’t is some of the stories very much the reason is very simple. It’s because he’s not in that story very much! To shoehorn him in would feel wrong and a bit fake, so, if he has a part to play then Ben will always be by Hugo’s side and I’m happy with that. I’m also happy with these cast of characters who can come and go as need be and as each book goes by we might find a little more about them, to learn about their past, to dislike them at one time and love them another.
So back to the reason for this blog, L’imponderable. The story came to me very easily. Two sets of identical twins and the discovery of a skeleton on the Beaupain vineyard. That was it. I wrote that exact sentence in the Hugo bible and from that came nearly 600 pages and a story spanning thirty years. The idea for the time difference was inspired by another series of books I had been planning (and ultimately abandoned, for now at least) which was a sort of history of this town I’ve created, Montgenoux. As I started thinking about it, it all made perfect sense and the bones of the story fell into place very quickly. We get to see Hugo unravelling a mystery nobody wants him to and there is a murder of a major character. This character was always going to die, I knew it from book two and I knew their death was going to have major repercussions on the rest of the characters. I hope you get it. The other major thing was my decision not to have a cliffhanger in this one. Now, as you may know if you’ve read the other five books, I’m a boy who loves his cliffhangers but in this one another ending felt much better, like the tying up of loose ends, and also because, the further we get on in the series it has become more and more evident by comments I have received that stand alone novels are much easier to market and often more satisfying to readers who don’t want to feel as if they can’t dip in and out of a series. Pick up a Poirot book, for example, and you can pretty much read them in any order you choose. So because of that I thought, for the next book at least, I would try something different. All that being said, and me being me, don’t be surprised if I completely ignore my own advice and book 7 has another corker of a cliffhanger. I like them so I suspect they will return and all I can hope is that readers new and old come along for the ride with me. I’ve been incredibly lucky with a little old indie published book gaining a following and loyal and devoted readers from all over the world. I never expected it and do not take it for granted.
It seems odd to me now that ‘L’imponderable’ has a nice ending when considering my own life took a devastating turn just as I finished. I can’t say a lot about it as it’s still to raw for me, but perhaps it was his parting gift?
Gary
As I write this, less than one day before the release of the sixth (!) book in the Hugo Duchamp series, I am reminded how each time a book comes out I am convinced it is the worst yet and that no-one is going to enjoy it. I’m reminded primarily because I’ve hit page 400 in the next book and I’ve come to the dreaded point where the delete button seems my only option. But then I looked at the gorgeous promo poster for ‘L’Imponderable’ and was taken back to when I was at the same point in writing that one. I did delete it. Twice. I would have done it a third time but life overtook me and I decided to stick with it. Those who have read it say its the best one yet, which is great and I was flattered for like a few seconds until me being me, my next thought was, ‘what was wrong with the others if this is so much better?’
Writing is a lonely business and it’s easy to get lost in what goes on around you, caught up in a mismatch of is such-and-such a book better than mine, or is it worse? Ultimately, neither matters. When I really decided to give the Hugo series a go after a long break from writing, my only stipulation was to do it for me, to write a book I might enjoy with characters who felt real and were flawed. As you probably know by now, I only wrote the first chapter as a sort of joke, pretending to write but for some reason Hugo and Montgenoux weren’t satisfied with just one chapter. Could I have done it better? Absolutely. Would I go back and change things? Nope. An editor from a big publishing house read ‘Un homme qui attend’ and said it had potential to be a best seller but to do so there would have to be certain changes. I think you know where I’m going here. The implication was not so much as Hugo’s personal life should be eradicated but perhaps sanitised, implied even, but not so forefront to the stories. That may be so, but that’s a job for another writer. I don’t pretend to receive divine inspiration when I write these books, but I most certainly believe my only talent as a writer is to listen to the characters and the story and not try to please to someone else. That is why, when I am asked a lot (and I mean a lot!) why Ben isn’t is some of the stories very much the reason is very simple. It’s because he’s not in that story very much! To shoehorn him in would feel wrong and a bit fake, so, if he has a part to play then Ben will always be by Hugo’s side and I’m happy with that. I’m also happy with these cast of characters who can come and go as need be and as each book goes by we might find a little more about them, to learn about their past, to dislike them at one time and love them another.
So back to the reason for this blog, L’imponderable. The story came to me very easily. Two sets of identical twins and the discovery of a skeleton on the Beaupain vineyard. That was it. I wrote that exact sentence in the Hugo bible and from that came nearly 600 pages and a story spanning thirty years. The idea for the time difference was inspired by another series of books I had been planning (and ultimately abandoned, for now at least) which was a sort of history of this town I’ve created, Montgenoux. As I started thinking about it, it all made perfect sense and the bones of the story fell into place very quickly. We get to see Hugo unravelling a mystery nobody wants him to and there is a murder of a major character. This character was always going to die, I knew it from book two and I knew their death was going to have major repercussions on the rest of the characters. I hope you get it. The other major thing was my decision not to have a cliffhanger in this one. Now, as you may know if you’ve read the other five books, I’m a boy who loves his cliffhangers but in this one another ending felt much better, like the tying up of loose ends, and also because, the further we get on in the series it has become more and more evident by comments I have received that stand alone novels are much easier to market and often more satisfying to readers who don’t want to feel as if they can’t dip in and out of a series. Pick up a Poirot book, for example, and you can pretty much read them in any order you choose. So because of that I thought, for the next book at least, I would try something different. All that being said, and me being me, don’t be surprised if I completely ignore my own advice and book 7 has another corker of a cliffhanger. I like them so I suspect they will return and all I can hope is that readers new and old come along for the ride with me. I’ve been incredibly lucky with a little old indie published book gaining a following and loyal and devoted readers from all over the world. I never expected it and do not take it for granted.
It seems odd to me now that ‘L’imponderable’ has a nice ending when considering my own life took a devastating turn just as I finished. I can’t say a lot about it as it’s still to raw for me, but perhaps it was his parting gift?
Gary
