Martin Lake's Blog, page 22

Talking with Writers

It’s August, people are going on holiday and the Olympics are crowding the TV channels of the world.

Because of this I have decided to temporarily suspend my series of talks with writers until the end of the month.  There are some fascinating talks ahead and I don’t want anybody to miss them.

If you want to look at the ealier talks then please click on the back button on the calendar at the bottom of the blog.

There you’ll find talks with the following people:

David Gaughran

Ty Johnston

SJA Turney

Lynn Shepherd

Angus Donald

Gordon Doherty

James Wilde.

I’d like to thank all of them for giving their time so generously to talk with me.

At the end of August the talks will resume starting with Robyn Young, Douglas Jackson and MC Scott.  And there are a lot more in the pipeline.

If you’d like to talk with me or would like me to do a guest post or interview on your blog then please contact me via this blog or on Twitter @martinlake14.

I’ll be blogging about other things in August, of course. Buckets and spades, ice-cream and candy floss and some thoughts on writing e-books.

Wasteland. #SampleSunday #histfic

Despite his savage manner Esbjorn had a taste for luxury.  The floor of the tent was strewn with dry rushes and thick furs.  Costly fleeces were heaped upon a bed.  A large oak table had been set up for feasting and sitting around this, with the remnants of a meal still upon it, were Esbjorn, Olaf and a third man who we had not seen before.

‘Edgar, my child,’ cried Esbjorn.  He was full of a bluff friendship which was so false it could surely fool no one.  ‘I trust you had pleasant dreams in the little house you visited?’

I smiled but did not answer.

‘Who is this?’ I asked, pointing to the stranger and taking a seat.

Esbjorn clapped the young man around the shoulder.  ‘This is Harald, my nephew,’ he said.  ‘He is the eldest son of my brother.’

‘The heir to the Danish throne,’ I said pointedly.

Olaf giggled quietly at my words.

‘You must be Prince Edgar,’ said Harald.  He spoke slowly and softly as if it were a terrible effort.

‘King Edgar,’ said Merleswein.

‘King No-Land,’ said Olaf.

‘The jest wears thin, Olaf,’ I found myself saying.

Esbjorn turned to me, his gaze blank and unknowable.  ‘Not to me,’ he murmured.

A heavy silence settled upon the tent.

‘I think we can all agree the time for jesting is over,’ said Athelstan.  ‘We must make plans to march south.’

‘Must?’ said Harald.  He gave a little, humourless laugh.  ‘There is surely no must.  We shall do as we choose.’

At that moment the flap of the tent was thrown open and Cnut strode in.  He drew up a stool between Harald and me.

‘My family and my friends,’ he said, with a grin.  ‘What more could I want?’

There was no response to him and no welcome.

Athelstan rapped on the table to attract attention.  Esbjorn’s bristled at this but decided to say nothing.

Athelstan waited until he had everyone’s attention and then began to speak in a quiet yet forceful tone.  He reminded everyone of our alliance and of our plans to defeat the Normans.  He spoke of how swiftly William’ appeared to have responded to the armed resistance across the country.

‘William will not rest or wait on events,’ he said finally.  ‘We must fight him, either on ground of his choosing or of ours.’

‘So what do the Danes choose?’ I asked.  ‘Athelstan is correct.  William moves as if on wings.  For all we know he is watching us from beyond the marshes at this very moment.’

‘He is in the south,’ said Olaf.  ‘He won’t venture so far north in winter.’

‘What makes you believe so?’

‘Because this is hostile territory,’ said Esbjorn.  ‘William is strong in the south and the land is fat.  He knows that he will find no friends here and precious little food.’

‘And in the south, he can easily scuttle off to Normandy,’ said Harald.

‘Don’t be too sure of that,’ said Cnut.  ‘William plays for high stakes and he is no coward.  The only way we will send him back to Normandy is as a corpse.’

‘I agree with Cnut,’ I said.  ‘William is a more deadly foe than you can know.’

‘Hearken to the seasoned warrior,’ cried Olaf.

‘He is as seasoned as you, brother,’ said Cnut quietly.  ‘Maybe more so.’

I was surprised at Cnut’s words but was not alone in this.  Olaf glared at him with venom.  I thought for a moment that he might spring at me but at last he hung his head and gnawed on his thumb.

Harald spread his arms wide.  ‘We are secure here,’ he said.  ‘I say we should wait until my father sends a fleet to strengthen us still further.  And if William chooses to attack then he will be marching to his own death.

‘I don’t agree,’ said Cnut.  ‘We are strong at the moment, and we have the English army with us.  Starvation can slay Danes as well as Normans.  If we wait too long our bellies will grow tight with hunger.  Worse than that, our blades will rust.  While we are strong we should destroy William.’

‘I am in command here,’ said Esbjorn.  There was a dangerous edge to his voice.

I glanced from Esbjorn to Cnut.  Olaf moved in his seat, ever so slightly.

I sensed that there was tension here.  I stowed this knowledge away, thinking that it might prove useful in the future.

‘All know this,’ said Cnut quietly.  ‘We follow where you lead.’

Esbjorn turned his one eye upon Cnut.  Neither man moved for long moments.  Finally Cnut looked away.

Esbjorn pointed towards Olaf.  ‘The map,’ he said curtly.

Olaf threw the remnants of the meal off the table and spread a map of England upon it.  Esbjorn stood and leant over it.  He gestured me to join him.

‘Where do you think the Normans are, Edgar?’ he asked.  His voice sounded quiet and thoughtful.

I shook my head.  ‘I don’t know,’ I said.  ‘He could be anywhere.’

‘Precisely.’  Esbjorn’s voice turned.  Now it sounded like a blade being whetted upon a stone.

‘You have not the slightest inkling of where William is,’ he said, ‘yet you would have me abandon a fortified site and lead my army who knows where across a land gripped by winter with no certainty of ever finding our enemy.’  He turned his pitiless gaze upon me.  ‘Forgive me if I ignore your words of wisdom.’

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 Wastland is the second book in The Lost King series which starts with The Lost King: Resistance.  Both e-books are available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Apple, WH Smith and other outlets.

I am currently writing the third novel.

Talking with James Wilde

Today I’m talking with James Wilde about his historical fiction.

Martin: When did you first know that you wanted to be a writer?  Was there a specific event that made you decide?

I’ve known pretty much since primary school.  Books were very important in my family and the value of stories, in any medium, was always highly regarded.  I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing tales.  By the time I reached secondary school I’d decided it was the only possible course for me – I had no interest in any other path.  I completed my first novel shortly after leaving university.  Rubbish, of course, and never shown to anyone.  But it proved to me that I could finish a work of that length.  After that, there was no holding back.

In the note at the end of ‘Hereward’ you eloquently describe the opportunities available to writers of historical fiction.  Did you consider other genres or did you always know you wanted to write historical ficition?

I don’t think any writers really think in terms of genres.  That’s more for the marketing people.  At heart, we all just want to tell stories.  Sometimes you might feel passionately about an historical tale.  Other times you might want to do a contemporary psychological thriller.  Or a wild west surfing story.  Whatever.

Most writers’ secret dream is that they can write whatever they want whenever they want to do it.  Having said that, history is a fantastic place to write because it can encompass all other genres.  Historical thrillers, crime and detectives, romance.  Even historical SF, if you really wanted to mix things up.  I think that is a real strength.

Which authors have had the greatest influence upon you?

As a child, Alan Garner changed the way I thought about books.  The Weirdstone of Brisingamen and The Moon of Gomrath were phenomenal works of imagination and showed me how the deep past still affected the present.  Later I consumed just about everything by the sadly-missed Ray Bradbury, as well as Lord of the Rings.  John Steinbeck, Thomas M Harris and Umberto Eco, particularly Foucault’s Pendulum, have all been big influences.

The character of Hereward is a real ‘life-force’.  What made you decide to develop such a vigorous and powerful figure?

I weighed several approaches, but most of the basis for my Hereward is there in what little we know about the historical figure.  In his younger days, he was wild, robbing, violent, tearing apart the local community, to such a degree that someone thought it was important to record it.  His father couldn’t control him and in the end beseeched the king to make Hereward exile.  That is a massive step and it sets up a great many questions.  Who was this teenage thug, and why was he the way he was?

I like flawed protagonists, the more flawed the better, and I felt there was a lot there with which I could work.  On a structural note, the time when the novel is set, around the Norman Conquest, was one of cold intellects and political machinations in pursuit of power.  It was good to have an emotion-fuelled character who could cut through all the weasel words and point up what was really important.

Do you have a favourite character in any of your books?  If so, what is it about this character that is so appealing?

I like Redwald, Hereward’s adopted brother, because his psychology is so skewed, but I became particularly interested in Harold Godwinson as I wrote him.  Here was a man groomed from his earliest days for power, driven very much by the commanding, if not domineering, presence of his own father.

Harold as a symbol, the last defender of England, has had a lot of traction over the centuries.  But if you look at him as a human being, things are not so clear-cut.  In the events that whirled around Harold, there are lots of suggestions of the lengths to which he went to achieve power.  And then, when he had it, it was snatched away from him, partly because of his own failings.  At heart, a tragic figure.

If your most unpleasant character were to give you advice what would it be and would you take it?

Redwald, I suppose, is unpleasant in the things he’s prepared to do to achieve his own ends, but most of the characters who encounter him find him very pleasant indeed.  I think the advice he would give me would be, forget sentiment, focus purely upon your objective.  But we are all driven by our psychology, and I am a sentimental man.  I couldn’t sacrifice the people I care about to achieve any worldly objective.  Which is probably a good thing, as the ability to do that probably defines psychopathy.

How do you research your novels?  Do you do it before you start to write or is it more of an ongoing process?

I do a vast amount of broad research before I begin writing a novel – events, places, people, but you can never know exactly how much research you need until you begin writing so it’s usually an ongoing process.  In the middle of a paragraph, you realise you absolutely need to know about this item of clothing or work of art or this particular foodstuff.  It’s a good job I love it or it would get very exhausting.

What would be a typical writing day for you?  Do you have set times, spaces, routines or rituals?

I’m a disciplined writer.  I don’t believe in this airy-fairy, waiting for the muse to arrive.  That’s usually an excuse made by people who don’t know how to work for a living.  I try to achieve a set word count every day, probably around 2000 words.  I remain flexible on the times.  I like to begin around 8-ish, but sometimes I feel I’m more productive at night so I tend to go with the flow.

I don’t have set spaces – quite the opposite.  Sometimes I’ll write in my study, sometimes in a pub or café, sometimes outside somewhere.  I find breaking up the routine minimises boredom and allows for greater concentration which is the key to productivity.

Rituals – I write on a MacBook Pro and always listen to music on earphones when I’m working because it keeps the world at bay.

What is your next writing project?

Hereward The Devil’s Army is out on July 19 from Bantam and there will be another Hereward book next summer which completes the tale of the English rebellion against King William’s rule.

You can find out more about James Wilde and his books by clicking on the following links.

Website/blog with news, extracts etc: http://www.manofmercia.co.uk/

Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/manofmercia

Twitter: https://twitter.com/manofmercia

 

What Inspires Me

I’ve been interested in the mind, learning and creativity for much of my life.  I’ve also told and written stories for much of my life.

I thought it would be interesting to find out where people get ideas from, what sparks their creativity and what they do with the ideas generated.

So please leave your comments at the end of this post.

Here’s my take on it.

I cannot remember when I didn’t tell stories to myself and to others.  What I do remember is that when I was nine or ten I loved the television programme My Favourite Martian and this started one of my longer lasting interior adventures.

Not content to be a Martian I had to be a denizen of the King of Planets, Jupiter.  Not content to be a denizen of Jupiter, I had to be the Emperor.  This involved a lot of mental gymnastics, some of which involved how I happened to be living in a Midlands town in England rather than in the Capital City of Jupiter.  I soon resolved this by relegating myself to being the Crown Prince who had been sent to Earth by my father (the Emperor) to learn the ways of others.

I was rather surprised and pleased to find out many years later that sending their children to another castle was a usual practice with medieval kings and nobles.  It also explained in a neatly satisfactory manner why I was so different in looks and temperament to my older brother.  I was of course, different and better.

The theme of unrecognised greatness was, as my wife pointed out the other day, one which has stayed with me all of my life.  I will write more of this in a future post.

I cannot recall when I first realised could write creatively.  It may have when I swiftly penned a poem about the First World War while watching the Remembrance Day programmes on television.  Or it may have been a story set by my great teacher Mr Johnson on the experience of a Guy on Bonfire Night.  I was surprised by how good my story was.  So was Mr Johnson.

Interestingly the first story I ever sold was about a Guy Fawkes contest and I am planning a novel about the First World War.  I’ve learnt that themes stick with me and come back to visit time after time.

Sometimes a chance remark might inspire me, often a book does.  I cannot have been the only adolescent to have written a dire echo of the Lord of the Rings.  Perhaps it would be called an homage today.  Back then it was just rubbish and I knew it.

Where do I get my inspiration now?

Sometimes it’s when I’m talking, especially with my wife.  The to and fro of ideas allows them to take wings and gain renewed strength and substance.

Yet there are two more situations where I get my best ideas.

The first is when my feet are dangling.  When I am sitting on a wall or a desk with no contact with the ground.

Ideas seem to flow towards me then, this idea and that, like butterflies circling around my head.  Often a little voice somewhere to the rear of my head will tell me that this idea is the best and I will pursue this in more detail.  I can muse on the ideas, play with them, all the while dangling my legs like a little child upon a swing which is just a little too large.

Perhaps it is the lack of grounding which sparks my creativity here; perhaps it is some long-forgotten link with childhood.  I don’t know why but I do know that dangling my feet is a sure-fire way for me to spark ideas.

The second situation is when I go to a café on my own.  I first realised this when I worked in a college.  I worked with my boss to put on many innovative courses. This involved networking with a host of other agencies in the town, county and nationwide.  The success of these courses gave me kudos, the freedom to leave the college and the time to think.  It also gave me access to cafés.

I felt a little guilty the first time I visited a café in work hours.  However I speedily fotgot this.  Fresh ideas would bombard me almost faster than I could write them.  I came up with countless ideas for new courses, new ways of teaching and new ways of working with students over a leisurely cup of tea.

It is the same now.

If I go to a café on my own I make doubly sure that I have a notebook and pencil with me.  Sure enough, the ideas soon come flooding in.  Some are new ideas for novels or stories.  Some are thoughts on my current novel, ideas for new character, plot twists, new themes and sometimes whole scenes.

I see people doing things I would not notice if wasn’t sitting there with noteook in hand and wonder what makes them act this way.  I notice people in more detail, the way they walk and talk and dress.  I see ways in which I could use these observations in my books.

I suddenly realise links I had not noticed between different characters and different scenes, I have insights into motivation and come up with new conversations and fresh challenges for my characters. Half an hour in a café gives me enough material for weeks of writing.

I sometimes let my drink get cold.

So that’s some of the ways in which I get inspired.

Please let me know how you get your ideas by leaving a comment.

Attack upon York Castle. #SampleSunday #histfic An extract from The Lost King: Wasteland

Before dawn the following morning, we led our warriors out of the camp and down to the banks of the River Ouse.  The night was dark with only the toenail of a moon to show the way.  Once we had reached the river we each took hold of the cloak of the man in front and stumbled like a string of blind beggars towards the walls of the northern castle.  I had never tried to travel so far by night and was astonished at how difficult it was.  It took us four hours to travel a distance we would have managed in one by day.

Finally we reached our allotted position and slid down on our weary haunches.  After a while we heard the quiet call of an owl, repeated three times.  It was the signal of the Danes.  Within minutes they had slithered close to us.

In the east the first faint sheen of day began to dispel the night and I gradually discerned the shapes of the Danes.  Cnut and Esbjorn were at the fore and behind them I could make out the figure of the Worm shivering in the cold.  Her bonds were still upon her and a filthy rag was bound tight around her mouth.  Esbjorn slid out his dagger and pressed it to her throat.

‘Now Earthworm,’ he whispered.  ‘There is the path you are to climb.  Once in the castle hurry down to the gate and throw it open.’

‘What about the sentries?’ asked Merleswein.

In answer Esbjorn pulled the gag from the Worm’s mouth and replaced it with the naked blade.  ‘She can sting as well as climb,’ he grunted.

He grasped her head in his huge hands and held her in his gaze.

‘No thought of treachery, little one,’ he said.  ‘For you know that if you fail me I shall hunt you down and watch as my dogs tear you to shreds.’

I was astonished by his words but her quick intake of breath showed that for the girl this was a threat more potent than any nightmare.  She nodded once and then scrambled along the castle wall to the mouth of the chute.

She swung her arms up, felt for a hand-hold and slithered into the hole.  I turned to look at Godwin, my gorge rising at the thought of what she would have to climb through.

‘She’ll never make it,’ he whispered.

I nodded bleakly.

But the Danes had no such doubt and, moving like ghosts, made their silent way to the gate.  We followed and waited with them, blades drawn and trying not to breath.

The minutes crept past.  Above us the sky was growing grey and to the east a faint smudge of red stained the horizon.  I tried to calm my fears.  Soon the day would be so bright the Normans could not fail to see us.

I glanced around and guessed that there were about fifty Danes waiting at the gate.  Swift Norman arrows could put paid to every one of us in minutes.  I clenched my jaw to try to keep hold of my nerves.  In the castle a cockerel crowed, piercing the silence.

Wasteland is the second in The Lost King series about Edgar Atheling, the last man proclaimed by the English as their king.  

It is available world-wide from all e-book outlets for £1.92 $2.97 or €2.68.

 

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Uneasy Alliance. Wasteland Book 2 of The Lost King. #SampleSunday #amwriting #Kindle #Nook #Kobo (martinlakewriting.wordpress.com)
The Lost King. #SampleSunday #Kindle #Nook #Kobo #histfic Try a sample (martinlakewriting.wordpress.com)

Talking with Gordon Doherty

Today I’m delighted to be talking with Gordon Doherty, author of ‘Legionary’ and ‘Strategos: Born in the Borderlands’.

Martin: When did you first know that you wanted to be a writer?  Was there a specific event that made you decide?

Gordon: Tolon, Greece, summertime 2004: gazing out over the Aegean as the sun dipped behind me, I envisioned a dusk raid by a fleet of triremes. I could see the armoured hoplites dropping onto the shore, I could hear their armour rippling as they rushed across the hinterland and I could sense the fear of those defending, higher up the beach. Then I stopped for a moment and thought; ‘Damn, I miss writing stories. Why did I ever stop?’

In my childhood, as a means of storytelling, I would (badly) mimic my elder brother’s excellent skills as a cartoonist. Then I started to write stories with the odd illustration every few pages. Finally, the pictures disappeared altogether as I turned to traditional short story writing. A misspent youth meant I wrote little more than angst-ridden poetry and songs for many years after that. It was a few years after I eventually settled down into a ‘normal’ career that I reached that epiphany moment in Tolon.

You write historical fiction.  Why this genre in particular?

Historical fiction is the ultimate escapism for me. One minute I’m ruminating over some gritty detail I have to address at work the next day. Then I pick up a David Gemmell, and in no time at all, I’m on a dusty track, winding downhill towards ancient Sparta, the sun beating on my back and the cicada song emanating from the olive groves all around me. You can’t beat that, you really can’t. As a writer, I can only aspire to produce magic like that.

Ancient Rome is a popular choice for novelists yet you have chosen to concentrate on the Eastern Roman Empire at two critical times, one of them far into its long history.  What are the reasons for this?

Pivotal moments in history intrigue me, particularly those which prove to be the twilight of something that was once great. Moments like the Gothic Wars or the Battle of Manzikert present irresistible sources of conflict, and it is not hard for my characters to come to life given such turmoil. For me, early Rome is magnificent, but later Rome is irresistible.

What made you decide upon your protagonist?  In what ways has he most surprised you?

Apion, the protagonist from Strategos, had a pretty torrid time of it as I developed his character and then reworked him a few times (usually to his detriment!). He started out as an autobiographical character, but I felt a little uncomfortable with some aspects of that, and so I shifted him around a little, and found that a really striking character emerged – one that surprised me, particularly towards the end of the first volume of Strategos, where I felt almost disengaged with my fingers as they typed furiously.

What surprises me most is that, in the time I have been away from writing about him, I genuinely miss him (time to call in the men in white coats?).

If you could spend time with your favourite character where would it be and what might the two of you do?

I’d sit on the sun-baked Anatolian hillside with Apion. I’d chat with him; I’d break bread with him. Perhaps by the end of the day we might both feel a little happier.

Alternatively, I’d love to go for an ale or two with Pavo and the veterans of ‘Legionary’. Some of their banter is merciless…

How do you research your novels?  Do you do it before you start to write or do you research on an ongoing process?

I try to devote some time up front – say a month – to collating a pile of books and websites and then poring over them to compile a dossier on every aspect of the era: clothing, food, drink, weather, civil strife, political upheaval, military events, religious stance . . . the list grows and grows. The idea then is that, armed with these facts, I can then focus solely on storytelling.

In reality though, it is not long before the writing of my story teases out a bucketful of specific questions which require a return to the books. In that respect, I think it has to be an ongoing process – you can only competently ask questions of an aspect of history when you are armed with a firm frame of reference.

Which research tools, sources and web-sites do you find most useful?

Each period has a few de-facto sources (Legionary – Jordanes, Kulikowski, Gibbon, Goldsworthy; Strategos – Treadgold, Norwich, Dawson) which I’ve returned to time after time. I see these works as the ‘spine’ of my research. Also, Osprey’s series of military manuals is concise and packed with evocative illustrations, some of which have even helped inspire my cover artwork.

On the web, the list of sources I’ve consulted is huge. One that stands out is Historum, an interactive forum where scholars and enthusiasts (like me!) postulate on every era of history. Many times, when a written source has proved elusive, the Historum users have helped point me in the right direction.

What would be a typical writing day for you?  Do you have set times, spaces, routines or rituals?

As soon as I wake up, my mind starts turning over the next chapter, the next plot rework, the next revision. Actually, I’m lucky if I don’t have writing dreams (I did actually have a nightmare about publishing a story where the Roman protagonist had a USB key!).

What I’m trying to say is that it’s easy for writing to dominate every heartbeat of my day. So, I try to be disciplined and channel my efforts into ‘blocks’ of writing time. I’ll go into the spare room which doubles as my office, close the door (very important) and set my Pomodoro timer for thirty minutes . . . then I write.

What’s been your favourite moment in your writing career?

Legionary has a dedication to my late aunt. When I gave a copy to my uncle, and saw how much it meant to him, that made all the hard work and long hours worth it.

Mountains or Sea?

Mountains

Superman or Spiderman?

Spiderman

Spring, Summer, Autumn or Winter?

Winter

What is your next writing project?

The sequel to Legionary, ‘Viper of the North’, is nearing completion and should be released in the next few months. I think fans of the first book will enjoy it as it pivots around the outbreak of the Gothic Wars, so the action is intense.

After that I will start work on the sequel to Strategos. I feel like I left poor Apion in a very dark place at the end of the last volume, so I look forward to taking him forward from there.

Thanks very much for talking with me, Gordon.

You can find out more about Gordon in these places.

Website: www.gordondoherty.co.uk

Twitter: @gordondoherty

Gordon’s books:

Legionary:http://www.amazon.com/Legionary-ebook/dp/B004SV2EBK

Strategos: Born in the Borderlands: http://www.amazon.com/Strategos-Born-Borderlands-ebook/dp/B006LPQZ52

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Next Friday I’ll be talking with James Wilde, author of ‘Hereward’ and ‘Hereward: The Devil’s Army.’

 

Uneasy Alliance. Wasteland Book 2 of The Lost King. #SampleSunday #amwriting #Kindle #Nook #Kobo

The Danes broke camp and boarded their longships for the journey down river.  My army had to march by foot and were forced to take a route a few miles to the west of the river.

Cnut asked me to sail with him in his longship, Firesnake.  I was reluctant to put myself in his power but Athelstan convinced me that to refuse would be an insult and also look cowardly.

On the first day of November Gospatric and Waltheof led my army south while Athelstan, Merleswein, Godwin, Siward Barn and I boarded Firesnake.  It was a beautiful ship and deadly.  It was one of the largest ships in the fleet, more than a hundred feet long, with sixty Danish oarsmen perched upon their sea-chests and a further fifteen squatting in the stern.  We stood with Cnut and his bodyguard on the prow.

The steersman blew a sharp blast on a whistle and a young boy by his side began to beat time upon a small side-drum.  I watched as the oarsmen listened to the beat, some with heads nodding in time, all sucking the rhythm into their bodies.

Finally, when he judged that all the oarsmen were at one with the beat, the steersman blew a longer blast and the crew pulled at their oars.  The drum sounded, the men strained, the oars sliced through the stream.

I was astonished.  The huge ship leapt like a fiercely spurred horse.  I watched as the prow cut through the water, churning it into a whitening foam.  With each pull the ship increased speed.  Finally, the oarsman raised his arm and the drummer began to slow his beat a little.  We settled into a pace which, while fast, was comfortable enough for the rowers to maintain for a good while.  I peered up at the dragon’s head high above the ship.  It looked like it was flying.

I took a breath.  Such a sight had inspired terror in my countrymen for hundreds of years.  Now, here I was, speeding along in its maw.

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Wasteland is available on all e-readers.  Please click on the picture link on the right to go to Amazon or search on Nook or on Smashwords for other readers.  

Price $2.97, £1.92 or Eur 2.68

Talking with Angus Donald

Today, I’m delighted to be talking with Angus Donald.

Welcome Angus, and thanks for talking with me.

Martin: Before we focus on your own writing would you tell us about the authors and books that have had the greatest influence upon you?

A: I’ve been a fan of historical fiction since I was a child reading Rosemary Sutcliff and Cynthia Harnett – I was particularly impressed by a book by Harnett called Ring Out Bow Bells, an adventure story set in medieval London. I think that is the genesis of my interest in the medieval world – and I’m still fascinated by it forty years later.

As I got older I began to read more sophisticated stuff: Patrick O’Brien and Mary Renault, but the single most influential writer for me is Bernard Cornwell. I discovered his Sharpe books at university and devoured them – when I was supposed to be reading dry academic tomes for my degree in Social Anthropology at Edinburgh University. Perhaps if I had been a better student (I got a 2:2), I would now be an anthropologist studying tribes in the remote places of the world, rather than a historical novelist. But life has a way, I believe, of steering you in the right direction, and I’m perfectly happy with the way things have turned out.

When did you first know that you wanted to be a writer?  Was there a specific event that made you decide?

A: I’ve always been a storyteller – I used to tell my parents and my brothers elaborate stories as a six-year-old child on long car journeys. They were a bit repetitive and I probably bored them stiff, but there was no shutting me up. I can’t remember the stories in detail but they were about wolves and witches, evil men and heroes – come to think of it, those long-ago car stories were the blueprint for my first novel Outlaw.

But I actually decided that I wanted to be a writer when I was inIndonesiadoing six-months field work (anthropological research) for my degree from Edinburgh in the late 1980s. I was quite lonely as nobody in the little Balinese village I was living in spoke English, and there was no electricity in my room, no bars or restaurants or other meeting places for miles, and so I began to write a novel by candle-light, alone in my small living space above a hen coop. The novel was terrible, and I eventually lost the manuscript anyway in Hong Kong years later, but I enjoyed the process of writing so much – entering a world that you have created and meeting loads of interesting people there – that I knew that I wanted to be a writer, and preferably a novelist. After twenty years in journalism, much of the time in Asia, I was finally able to make my dream a reality.

What made you decide upon Robin Hood as your protagonist?

A: When I was thinking of writing a series of medieval books I was looking around for a hero who was instantly recognisable. I thought about making Richard the Lionheart the hero, and I considered King Arthur, but Robin Hood kept popping up in everything I read about the period, and he has always had a certain rakish glamour for me . . . so in a way you might say that Robin forced himself on me.

In truth, Robin Hood isn’t the protagonist of the books, Alan Dale is. And I’m not sure I even like my Robin character as much as Alan does. Robin always does these terrible things to people, murdering them mutilating them, robbing them, offering them a gangster-like “protection” – he’s not really a very nice guy. Although he does, of course, have a good side: he is loyal to his friends, loving to his wife, and very generous to those who are in his circle, his familia. But I would not advise anyone to cross him!

Which representations of Robin Hood have you most admired?  Are there any that you just don’t like?

A: My favourite Robin Hood is Errol Flynn – although my Robin is not very much like that Hollywood film version. I thought Kevin Costner was pretty good, too, in that he was fallible – you were never sure he was going to win.

I didn’t much care for Russell Crowe’s take on the legend. While I loved Russ in Gladiator – and I was very excited when I heard there was a new Robin Hood film coming out – I thought his portrayal of the outlaw was pretty average. I think the problem of the film was that it was rather confused; too complicated a story, the characters too thin. I heard that it was constantly being rewritten, with radical changes of story and cast, right up until shooting began and beyond. Shame.

Still, I don’t think we have seen the last of Robin on the big screen – somebody, at some time will have another go at it. Perhaps they will use my books as a source. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.

You have chosen Alan Dale to narrate the story.  Has he developed in ways that surprise you?

A: Yes, I had originally seen him as a naïve, good-natured, sensitive fellow who stands as a counterpoint to Robin’s cynicism, hardness and cruelty. But as the books have gone forward, Alan is becoming more cynical as he grows up and Robin less brutal. Their characters seem to be meeting in the middle. So yes, Alan had developed in surprising ways.

He is also becoming less musical the more people he kills. As if all the violence is draining away his natural talent. He is a “trouvere”, what the northern French and English called a troubadour, and he is part of the cultural revolution – the 12th century renaissance, as it is called – that was occurring at the time, a great flowering of music, art and poetry and the genesis of the chivalric culture and codes.

How do you research your novels?  Do you do it before you start to write or do you research on an ongoing process?

A: Both. I start with a vague idea – for example, in King’s Man (book 3, out in paperback on July 5th) the story is loosely about Blondel, with Alan the trouvere rescuing Richard the Lionheart from imprisonment in Germany. I read a lot about Richard’s time in prison, and his ransoming by the English under the direction of his mother Eleanor of Aquitaine. Then I visited the part of Germany that was relevant to the story, near Frankfurt. Then I started writing.

But I do research online along the way. I suddenly realised 40,000 words into the story that Alan (Blondel) would not travel to Germany on horseback as I had originally supposed. Everybody travelled by water on long journeys, if they possibly could, as it was so much easier and safer. So I had to research boat travel on the Rhine a third of the way through the book: what kinds of boats did they go on? How were they propelled? What did they transport as cargo.

As I say, it’s a bit of both – there are always details that you need to find out while you are actually writing the story. What day was Easter in that year? What did people do when they had a cold? What colour robes would the monks in this particular monastery wear? That sort of thing. I do that in libraries and online while I’m in the middle of the book.

What has been the most exciting thing for you about writing your novels?

A: I love the fact that I am able to write from home for a living. I don’t make as much money as I would if I had a real job but I get to spend more time with my wife and two small children. And I love being my own boss. If I decide that I need to go to France for a few days to research on something – I just go. (After checking with my wife, of course – few men are truly their own bosses.)

If your most unpleasant character were to give you advice what would it be and would you take it?

A: The most unpleasant character in the books (so far!) is called Sir Richard Malbete and he appears in book 2 – Holy Warrior – which is about the Third Crusade. He’s a foul, sadistic creature – at one point he boils a Jewish child alive for his own amusement. I wouldn’t take any advice from him. If I met him in the flesh, I hope I would have the courage to kill him on the spot.

The most unpleasant character in terms of physical appearance in the books is Nur, a one-time lover of Alan’s who is cruelly mutilated by Malbete. She has a rough time of it in books 2, 3 and 4, and I feel really sorry for her. But her fortunes change in Book 5, which I’m writing at the moment. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you how. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.

What would be a typical writing day for you?  Do you have set times, spaces, routines or rituals?

A: I write best in the morning. So my routine is geared to that. I get up around 7-ish, grab a cup of tea, and go up to my study, which is at the top of our very decrepit medieval house. I work in my dressing gown until mid-morning then shower, have breakfast and get dressed.

I try to go for an hour’s walk in the Kent countryside before lunch at 1pm with my wife and baby son, Robin. (The other child Emma is usually at school then.) In the afternoons I read, and sometimes take a nap, and I write/edit again from about four till six pm, when I come down and rejoin the family and have tea, or a drink and begin cooking supper for my wife Mary.

That is the basic structure of my day – but the pleasure of being self-employed is that I can change it as and when I like.

What is your next writing project?

A: I’m writing the fifth book of the Outlaw Chronicles at the moment, and that will be published in hardback in July 2013. But after that I hope to write more Robin Hood stories. I have another six or seven sketched out in my mind, but it all depends really on how well they sell. That’s the cruel truth of publishing.If your books don’t sell, you can’t do your job and you need to find something else to do.

I’m feeling fairly optimistic though that there will be more of these stories to come one way or another. The best thing readers can do, if they want me to write more Robin Hood books, is to buy them and to tell all their friends about them.

Thanks very much for talking with me today, Angus.

For more information about Angus Donald’s book go to his website www.angus-donald.com

King’s Man (Outlaw Chronicles 3) is published in paperback on July 5th 2012

Warlord (Outlaw Chronicles 4) is published in hardback on July 19th 2012

****************

Next week I’ll be talking with Gordon Doherty, author of Legionary and Strategos: Born in the Borderlands.

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Comic Book Heroes

I recently talked with SJA Turney, the author of Marius’ Mules, a series of historical novels set in Roman times.  I was delighted to read that one of his great influences was Asterix the Gaul.

Asterix the Gaul (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This, and a very recent conversation I’ve had with Simon, Nick Britten, Alun Williams, Manda Scott and Kate has started me thinking about the influence of our earliest reading upon what authors write.  And here, I don’t mean the obvious influence of much loved writers.

I’m talking about comic books.

When I was young I was brought up on the Beano, Dandy, Beezer and Topper, those quintessentially British and timeless comics which are, I hope, still going strong.  Then I discovered Valiant with it’s mixture of comic strips and longer, full-prose stories.  I loved this and was a loyal fan for many years.

But then I discovered American comics and was hooked. I was never a fan of Superman or Batman but I loved Iron Man, the X Men and some of the creepy flesh-tingling comics whose names I’ve now forgotten.

My tip-top favourite, however, was Marvel Comics The Mighty Thor.

Thor (Marvel Comics) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This combined my love of history, mythology,and Vikings with the story of an intellectual if puny man whose inner hero is unleashed for the good of others.  It had the added bonus of a rather fetching costume complete with armour, big boots, immense cloak which never seemed to hinder him in battle and a wonderful helmet with wings.  I could see myself kitted out in all this.

And best of all, of course, was his wonderful hammer Mjölnir.

Thor would whirl this round his head and then let fly, using it’s momentum to weep through the heavens in pursuit of ne’er do well’s and ever lasting glory( in the mind of one ten year old at least.)

I think that this early hero still informs my writing although I’m never consciously aware of it.  Thanks Stan Lee, Larry Lieber and Jack Kirby.

I’m sure there could be a PhD thesis on how much Asterix and Obelix influenced SJA Turney and another on how Thor influenced my The Lost King novels.

The film was pretty good as well.

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‘Escape.’ A short story from ‘For King and Country.’ #Kindle #Nook #histfic

Mitchell had not meant to desert.  It was a June morning and he was taking a message to B Company.  He was highly regarded by his officers, an intelligent and trustworthy man, steady under fire.  He trudged along the pitted earth then stopped in surprise.  In a gash in the earth a butterfly was sipping from a tiny flower.

At that moment he started to run.

He saw a line of trees on the horizon.  He swerved and headed for them.  He was panting by the time he reached them and tumbled into the long, protective grass.  He lay there for a moment, dazed by what he had done.  The sunlight glittered through the branches.  I must go back, he thought.  If I go back now no-one will realise I’ve been missing.  Then his eyes closed.

When he awoke there was the faint smudge of dawn above the German lines.  He had slept for twenty hours.  His stomach rippled with fear.  The officers would think he had deserted.

He staggered up.  The night was fading and, as he watched, the fragile lines of the trenches came into view.  What had made him run?  He should go back.  If he went back now he could say he had got lost.  If he delayed he would be shot as a deserter.  He went fifty yards towards the lines and stopped.  He would not fool Captain Bell.  He darted back to the cover of the trees.

He had to think this out.

The sun had risen far above the horizon and the day was light and clear.  He was not thinking at all but was listening to the sounds of birds chirping in a nest above his head.  He had not heard sounds like this for years.  Even when on leave the men were driven to fill the unfamiliar silence with their own clamour.  The birds sounded sweet, and they paid no regard to the war and the killing and the waste.

He stood up and turned his back on the trenches.  He plunged into the trees, walking fast to keep himself from thinking.  He walked for hours and only gradually noticed that there was a sound  following him.  He reached a clearing and halted, feeling naked and vulnerable.  Somebody was near.  A snigger sounded close behind him.

He spun round but no-one was there.  It must be a madman hiding in the trees.  Again, the laugh came loud and clear and he spun around once again to find nothing.  Then his hand reached up and touched his mouth.

It was working furiously, jabbering a mad, crazed cackle in a voice he could not recognise as his own.  He shuddered and willed himself to stop.

He failed.  For an hour he stood rooted in the clearing, his mouth giving out great gusts and whoops of laughter, his eyes raining tears of anguish and fear.

************

Escape is the second story in my collection ‘For King and Country’.  It is available from all e-book outlets for e-readers and apps.  Click on the picture on the right to buy it from Amazon.

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