A. H. RICHARDS
- Guest Author -
G'day folks,
Welcome to an interview conducted with an interesting author - A. H. RICHARDS.
Welcome, A H ...
1.
TELL US A LITTLE ABOUT
YOURSELF AND YOUR WRITING JOURNEY.
I don’t know how interesting it is to tell anyone that I
was born in Wales, was three months premature and weighed 3 pounds eight
ounces. But I suppose that was my first accomplishment, although my mother did
most of the work. After that, I grew, by inches and days, in Wales, England,
Canada, Europe, the U.S., Japan, until I turned into the quivering wreck I now
proudly present to the world, having no other option.
Onto the writing stuff. Well, once I got to the age of
ten or so, I got the writing bug. Simultaneously, I got the acting bug and the
classical guitar bug. I was an abysmal actor, and knew it, even then. I got one
line in a school play. I said “Now look what you’ve done!” after someone
smashed a window. (They didn’t hit the window in the scenery, but smashing
glass sound-effects and my line came on cue. The audience had a chuckle, and my
acting career ended.) I started writing by trying to complete a spy novel in
composition class. Never finished it, but did a blog post on it a while ago, so
I won’t go into detail.
My first ever successful writing was a free-form poem at
age 15, in memory of my grandma soon after she died. My sister read it and
cried, so I must have done something right. After that came years of bad poetry,
until, at nineteen, I realized that I needed more room, and so turned to prose.
It has all been downhill from there. Although, I did win a generous writing
grant for my first ‘novel in progress,’ Kronos Duet, so, again, must have done
more than something right.
2.
WHEN AND HOW DID YOU
BECOME A WRITER?
I think it was more the other way around – writing became
me, in both senses of the word. It’s like the most wonderful, cursed, infection
you can ever catch, and it really took over my entire self when I turned 20. I
formally quit studying classical guitar in order to write books and songs. I
lived alone, in an industrial city in Ontario, Canada. I had no friends but my
guitar teacher, and then I found Tropic
of Cancer by Henry Miller, in a broken down excuse for a bookstore that I
swear was run by a madman. He kept two pinball machines in a back room, which
young boys in the neighbourhood played all day long (creepy); and he had two
shelves of books out front. The one copy of Tropic
of Cancer had no front cover and the first few sheets missing, so when I
picked it up, I immediately read the first lines of the novel... “I am living
at the Villa Borghese. There is not a crumb of dirt anywhere, nor a chair
misplaced. We are all alone here and we are dead.”
Those words were incandescent to me, like burning
magnesium in my psyche. I never looked back, although I took many a detour into
music and romance and plain idiocy along the way. D.H. Lawrence and T.S. Eliot
had been my heroes, along with John Donne, the Elizabethan poet, and Ian
Fleming, of all people. But it was Henry Miller who tore down the facade of
complacency and illusion in my life, and infected me with something that I cannot
really name or describe to this day. Incandescence
is the closest I can come to it – my genesis as a prose writer.
3.
WHAT TYPE OF PREPARATION DO YOU DO FOR A
MANUSCRIPT? DO YOU PLAN EVERYTHING FIRST OR JUST SHOOT FROM THE HIP?
I’ve tried to lay this out before, in different
discussions, and always come back to the same things. I think differently, and
work differently, depending on whether I am writing a short story or a novel.
With both, initial words come to me, or an image of a character, or sometimes
the ‘presence’ of a character or situation. From there, I have to let things
simply pour out, to some extent, because to start defining and plotting and
styling too early is the surest way to murder a story, for me. However, after
that first outpouring, if it’s a short story, I begin to plan, then write and
plan almost simultaneously, until I get to a point where I understand what I’m
writing about and for. Once that point is reached, I ‘draw up’ a skeleton of
the entire story, sometimes with even provisional last words to work towards.
By the time I’m a few pages into a short story, I know how it will end, and
pretty much how it will move, who is involved, and so on.
Novels are a much different beast, after that initial
process of just letting words come. I write, and write, and write, most often
in a linear fashion, but sometimes, to paraphrase Dylan Thomas, with a
blunderbuss, firing buckshot all over and seeing what targets it hits. Beyond
having a central character or two in mind, and maybe a sense of place and time,
I don’t get strict about things for a while. It’s important to me that things
are very fertile, and to that end, I take all sorts of routes, go out on a limb
here and there, gallop along with some character or other just because they
induce me to, and so on.
It’s the writerly equivalent to method-acting, really. I
dive into the characters and live them. I download photographs of environments
from the Internet and stick them up all around my desk. For instance, I have
been writing a post-apocalyptic novel, and have sheaves of black and white
pictures, 8x10, of wreckage, floods, ruined houses and high-rises, deserts and
such. I kept them all black and white to subliminally make things as bleak as
possible.
My writing comes out of that environment, and builds
itself, piece by piece – sometimes with chapters a few removes from each other
coming to life at much the same time. Then, as the mood, the environment, the
tone and, above all, the characters, gain dimension, I find myself planning out
the larger scale of the novel.
Having
said all that, I must add the one, central, germinal core of my writing; that
is, my subconscious. As the subliminal, and ‘method-writing’ play their part,
so too does my subconscious. And if it’s not fully engaged, the writing putters
out and I stop work on a piece. That’s the greater part of the fertility of
which I spoke. It’s the whale in Moby Dick, the theme of fluidity, like the
Seine, that runs through Miller’s Tropic of Cancer. Without some subconscious
fertility, some unknown pushing me, then the book runs high and dry and I
abandon it. If it comes back, I pick up where I left off. Kronos Duet has a few
interesting themes, or motifs running through it that I wasn’t completely aware
of until I had finished it, after eight months of writing and two years of
editing. Reviewers and readers still notice things in it that surprise me, but
at the same time become “Aha!” moments. I like to be surprised by my own
writing.
4.
WHAT DO YOU ENJOY MOST
ABOUT BEING A WRITER?
Disappearing into the
story and into the characters has to be one of the most enjoyable aspects of
writing. It’s not escapism, because it’s such hard work, saying things right, doing
justice to the nuances of a character. But it is a different dimension of
relationship, with myself, I suppose. I am thrilled when the right words come
and the character becomes more and more dimensional, credible, lovable or
hateable, or whatever he, she or it is bound to be. It’s a nice feeling of
accomplishment, and even love. I do love some of my characters, even the
horrible ones. I love Adrianna, in Kronos
Duet, and I love this horrible failure of a man called Alex Thurging in one
of my short stories.
The other beautiful,
absolutely beautiful thing about writing, is the moment of writing superbly. It
may not happen often, and sometimes what I think is superb is passed over by
readers. But that doesn’t matter. It’s like mastering an instrument. You
practise and practise, scales and arpeggios and studies and tremendously difficult
passages, and then, once in a while, you play that piece that you struggled
with for so long, with consummate mastery. It is a heady feeling. I get that,
sometimes, with words. Not that I am a master, don’t get me wrong. I am always
an apprentice. But there are moments of mastery, of glory. And there are the
responses of those readers who love my stories, who want more, who thank me for
having written something. That is glory enough.
5.
WHAT IS THE HARDEST
THING ABOUT BEING A WRITER?
Solitude, solitude,
solitude. You disconnect from the rest of life and you disappear. Margaret
Atwood refers to it as going into her burrow. I’d like a burrow. I’d enjoy
being a rabbit, especially a literate one. But mine isn’t a burrow. I think,
for me, it’s an alternate-dimension cave, with an antique desk and electricity,
of course.
I’m making it sound
almost pleasant. But the solitude can make you a little crazy after a while.
6.
WHAT WERE YOU IN A
PAST LIFE, BEFORE YOU BECAME A WRITER?
A psychic once told me, from sporadic visions I had been
seeing, that I was once a musician in Spain, in the 19th century.
Apparently, my fiancée drowned in a river days before we were due to be
married. My vision was of myself sitting under a tree, watching her through
foliage running beside a river. It was a beautiful summer’s day, and she had
jet black hair, and I wore a flat, black hat with a wide brim, and a waistcoat.
Everything was glittering with sun.
I actually believe that I was a village idiot, and at one
time a monk or ascetic hermit. I may also have been a dandelion and a brick.
7.
WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST
WRITING ACHIEVEMENT?
Writing letters to relatives. Talk about discipline.
“Dear so and so, it has been raining for two days and I have been to the doctor
to see about the pinched nerve in my neck. The cat is fat and happy...” Now
what? Christ! “It was so good to hear from you. I’m sorry it took from 1994 to
now to write this letter. It’s not that I have been busy, even though I have,
very busy. Very very busy, in fact. Ummm, hang on, the phone’s ringing...”
I am immensely proud of every letter I finish and mail.
Almost every word of every letter is fit to bore the fur off my cat, but
letters are, nonetheless, essential. They keep some old-world quaintness and
caring in the world.
Next to that, I would say, any finished proposal or
submission letter to a publisher or agent. I would rather sandpaper my eyes than
write them, so to finish one is a miracle of doggedness. I’m lucky to still be
considered sane after all the years of writing them - if that still holds true.
I’m seeing my shrink in a week, so we will see.
8.
WHAT ARE YOU WORKING
ON AT THE MOMENT?
As Ray Bradbury said
to his wife when first going upstairs to start the script for the movie Moby
Dick, “Pray for me.” I ask the same of anyone who reads this, because I am
simultaneously working on a post-apocalyptic novel written by a half mad
urchin, a dystopian novel about people looking for a home who end up at
Armageddon, a terribly tragic true story about a friend of mine who disappeared
with an abusive boyfriend, plus a study of Dylan Thomas’ poetry. I’m not
galloping off in all directions at once – I have enough self control that I
focus on one at a time. But it’s a pretty hefty few years of work.
I’m most focused on
the dystopian novel, but am most in love with the urchin, who was born in a
barn and licked by a cow who just licked a salt block, so has the name Salt
Lick. I love him through and through. Come to think of it, perhaps I was him in
another time, another place; or he was my brother. There are so many universes
and dimensions... perhaps he is real. He certainly burst into my consciousness
fully formed, and has not stopped talking since.
9.
WHAT INSPIRES YOU?
Kindness, to all
living things. (I would say ‘love’ but I am not Christ, so am not very good at
it yet. I prefer kindness, as an attainable and beautiful, essential thing.)
Justice, and
injustice (which inspires my anger, but also a strong urge to combat it).
Friendship, silence. And perhaps most of all, nature, and everything she means.
I love the natural world and almost all life forms. (I say almost all, because
deep-sea fish scare the hell out of me, with their bulbous eyes and huge nasty
mouths and pallid flesh and all that is disgusting somehow hanging off them,
for some deadly use or other.) I used the word love there, so there you go.
Love is important to me. But romantic love is a dilemma. I’ve known so much of
it, so deeply... and it is a beautiful insanity. Maybe one day it will inspire
me to write a book about it. If I can trust it enough to try to write it down.
10. WHAT GENRE DO YOU WRITE?
I seem to be spending
more and more writing time in the speculative fiction field. There are cows
there, but they are carnivorous and genetically modified. There are no planes
or cars, because there is no more oil, but there are Zeppelins and nature
spirits and psychically precocious misfits. All sorts of lovely, and monstrous
stuff.
I tend to write evil
and monstrous very well. Without shame or prejudice, I believe I have written
one of the most evil characters in all literature in Cabot Greenaway, from Kronos Duet. He is a mix of Dickens’ Uriah Heep, Steerpike (from the
Gormenghast Trilogy) and _____ (write serial killer here.) Then again, he is
not them at all, and is his own particular brand of heinous perversity, all
acted out in a speculative future of psychics and time travel and fascist
government agents.
11. DO YOU HAVE ANY TIPS FOR NEW
WRITERS?
Don’t do it. Take to drink.
If you must write,
you will know it. Once that has been decided for you, above all, trust
yourself, listen hard and work hard. There’s no easy path, to my knowledge. And
don’t forget to read, read, read. That’s the best way to learn, from the best
in your field.
12. DO YOU SUFFER FROM WRITER’S BLOCK?
Not to my knowledge.
I suffer from fatigue often enough, and realize that my mind has stretched
enough for a while, so needs a rest. But I no longer give writer’s block any
credence, or any room. Because, once you believe in writer’s block, you tear your
hair out every time you stop writing for a day; you beat yourself up, tell
yourself you’re failing, that you have no drive, that you are not really a
writer, and all sorts of nasty, detrimental things. I wrote a longish blog post
on this subject, so I will give you a link to the blog... but I will say this.
Is there such a thing as painter’s block, or guitarist’s block, or sportsman’s
block? No. There are simply times when you reach a plateau and don’t seem to be
progressing, times when you, like any sane person who does work, need to take a
rest. Writer’s block is a myth, but there is
the metaphysical or mental equivalent of a pulled muscle, or fatigue. Go with
it. Relax. The air is full of vocabulary and ideas, always.
13. DO YOU HAVE A PREFERRED WRITING
SCHEDULE?
I can’t force things.
I’m not built that way, psychically. I write something, every day, but I have
never paid much attention to when I do it, or if there is an optimum time for
writing. I just keep on going. Sometimes I’m writing pages of a novel at three
in the morning, sometimes an essay at noon, or a character note at ten a.m.
Sometimes I will write for six hours without stopping, drinking cold tea and
forgetting to eat. Then, there comes a day when I write nothing, clean house
and cook things, and take a good walk, then sit out in the evening and drink a
glass of wine.
14. DO YOU HAVE A FAVOURITE WRITING
PLACE?
I write at my desk at
home, where I can pin up my photographs and plans and throw sheets of paper
everywhere. I also love to write at my local coffee shop, the Black Walnut. I
live in a village, tacked on to the city of London, Ontario. Summers with a
laptop, outside with iced tea and people dog-walking, young lovers going by...
can’t beat it. Except maybe in Paris...
15. WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST JOY IN
WRITING?
The visceral caress
of words. And the eternities of meaning in what is not said, what is
purposefully left out.
16. WHO IS YOUR FAVOURITE AUTHOR AND
WHY?
Oh Gawd! I will go
mad trying to answer this one. The only way to avoid that is to pretend I don’t
love a whole bunch of them, which is painful for me, I respect them so much.
At one time, D.H.
Lawrence was my favourite; then Henry Miller, for over a decade. Then I wrote a
thesis and a book about Miller, so rarely read him now, although Tropic of Cancer and Black Spring can still wake me up anew.
I love almost every novel Thomas Hardy has ever written. All three are
geniuses. I don’t love them because they are geniuses, but because of the
spirit of genius in their absolutely unique expression of the world and humans.
I find Hardy so tender and tragic, and yet so beautifully controlled in his
expression of those two intensely ‘deep’ facets of living.
I would say though,
that I have favourite books, rather than favourite authors. Nabokov’s Lolita, I consider a masterpiece; so too
with Emma Donoghue’s Slammerkin,
Martin Amis’ Time’s Arrow, and
Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance. I
think Birdsong, by Sebastian Faulks
is wonderfully written, and John Fowles’ The Magus and The French
Lieutenant’s Woman.
And yet, I write
speculative fiction. Go figure. Editors have said that I write literary science
fiction, and certainly I am not afraid of literary writers. I love Samuel
Beckett, and think Joyce’s Ulysses is
wonderful. I love Bronte’s Wuthering
Heights. And, in the realm of the kind of fiction I write, I love Riddley Walker, by Russell Hoban, and Grendel, by John Gardner. I also think
Raymond Bradbury and Philip K. Dick were brilliant.
I told you I could go
mad. I just skirted it that time.
17. WHAT’S THE GREATEST COMPLIMENT YOU
EVER RECEIVED FROM A READER?
“You look thinner in real life.” No, just kidding. I
don’t. The greatest compliment? One reviewer, on Goodreads, picked out a
paragraph from Kronos and cited it in
full. She wrote a super-insightful review of the novel, and got to the centre
of why I love writing – as I said, for the visceral caress of words, and the
eternities of meaning in what is not said. She understood something very
intimate about my writing, and I found that deeply touching, and invigorating.
The citation was something that came from the subconscious voice, my centre.
One reviewer also
wrote: “I rarely read any novel a second time, however, Kronos Duet is a novel that deserves a second or even a third
reading just to revisit and absorb the beautiful use of language and the ideas
about life and what a person can accomplish if they just put their
"mind" to it.” You couldn’t pay for a more complimentary comment.
Those comments cheer me when I’m feeling low. They keep me writing.
18. WHAT WAS THE WORST COMMENT FROM A
READER?
I think I remember
this quote properly... “some of the pages were odious to read.” That was in
reference to Kronos Duet, and I think
she was referring to the above-mentioned Cabot Greenaway, pervert and
antagonist. I like to think so, anyway.
19. WRITERS ARE SOMETIMES INFLUENCED BY
THINGS THAT HAPPEN IN THEIR OWN LIVES. ARE YOU?
All the time. My
short stories are full of people and memories from my life, and often echo my
obsessions, or maybe pre-occupations is a better word. My novels, most definitely,
are built upon my life experience, such as my love of nature, the love I have
for strong (young and older) women, female characters who are unique and
determined. And my world-view finds a voice in the political and social
environments I create, which is fuelled by my activism. Ultimately, too, now
that I think on it, my childhood, the dark, Welsh Celtic history I have known,
breathed and lived, is always going to be a major part of what I write and how
I think and use language. Celtic culture shows a core reverence for mystery,
for sacredness in nature, in gesture, in song and music. I love all of that,
and make it part of my work. And, on a deeper, psychic level, I love unravelling
mystery in my stories, or creating secrets and ambiguities and leaving them as
such. Life and nature are made of this.
20. OTHER THAN WRITING, WHAT ELSE DO YOU
LOVE?
Playing music
(guitar), animals of all sorts (I once worked in a zoo for a year and loved
every physical, horse-poop, seal fish-guts, goat-birthing, hay-baling minute of
it.) I love sushi, and pizza with anchovies and olives. I love water, in the
rain, thunderstorms, in rivers, ponds, lakes, oceans, in the way it runs in the
gutters in spring, and comes down in torrents in the rainy season in Japan and
China. I have had the honour of loving three exceptional cats, one of whom is
still with me. I love Japanese baths, sitting in the hot water right up to your
chin, clean as a baby, because you have already showered before the bath. I
love my friends, and the kindness we share. I love being passionate, and
finding other passionate people in the world.
I’m beginning to feel
like Julie Andrews now. So I will stop this heavenly rant.
21. DID YOU HAVE YOUR BOOK / BOOKS
PROFESSIONALLY EDITED BEFORE PUBLICATION?
Yes, for the novel, and the study of Miller. Some of the
short stories were professionally edited. A few of them are old, and I am an
editor myself, so trusted my own judgment on them. I usually edit my own work
half a dozen times or more, although a couple of pieces have been written in a
flash, with, somehow, no need for an edit.
22. DESCRIBE YOUR PERFECT DAY.
Wake up in a cottage by a lake, to the gentle sound of
rain. Breakfast with my love, with animals round and about. The sun comes out, my
love and I vanish and reappear in Paris for an afternoon lunch, escargot,
baguettes, fresh butter, asparagus, red wine (I’m beginning to sound like
Hannibal Lecter), then a café au lait. Take hours over that. Poof, again! Back
by the lake, feed the goats and chickens and ducks, with my Welsh Border Collie
by my side. Take the horses out for a ride, stay out until the sun goes down,
return to the cottage, stable the horses, eat delicious leftovers and
fresh-baked bread, sit on the balcony together watching the seals in the lake
and the eagles crossing the evening sky.
Failing that, living in Wortley Village, where I live now,
writing a few pages of the latest novel, then passing a couple of hours on the
café patio, people-watching, laughing a lot with a friend or two. Off to the
archery range for a few hours. Then horse-riding in the country, with company.
Back home, cat bonding, long bath, sushi and Japanese beer. Discover I have
been nominated for the Pulitzer Prize for literature, couldn’t care less if I
win. Watch a movie. Sleep like a baby.
23. IF YOU WERE STUCK ON A DESERT ISLAND
WITH ONE PERSON, WHO WOULD IT BE? WHY?
Either Liv Tyler or Jennifer Lawrence, or St. Francis of
Assisi. The first two women because they are authentic, modest, intelligent and
beautiful, and apparently know how to laugh, a lot. Yes, very selfish and male
of me, but there you are. St. Francis, because I think we could cohabit very
gently and powerfully together, and build a small world where respect for
nature and dignity are the very core of things.
24. WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IF YOU HAD THE
CHANCE TO SPEAK TO WORLD LEADERS?
Ohhhh boy! Don’t get me started. Do you know the
monologue/rant that Jeff Daniels gives at the beginning of The Newsroom, about
why the U.S. is NOT the best country in the world? That would be something like
how I could begin my speech. And it would be a speech, not some decorous bit of
genuflecting. I could lambaste them all for the horrors they complacently or
purposefully visit upon this world, for their machinations with the world’s
worst corporations and psychopaths, for their corrupt elitism and utter
short-sighted stupidity and ambition. That done, I could tell them the story of
a better world, of a world that will not come without toil and sacrifice, but
which can be achieved, with kindness and deep integrity, and through a staunch
resistance to perversity, mediocrity, cruelty and indifference. I could tell
them what it means to be small, and utterly human, and plainly honest. I could
quote from the best of us, including Martin Luther King Jr., Josephine Baker,
Pierre Trudeau, Maude Barlow, Henry Miller, Edith Piaf, Einstein and more.
However, I believe that 99% of them would simply listen,
politely or through wooden boredom, and return to their vomit, as the biblical
proverb goes. I’m beginning to believe that the time for words is coming to a
close, and that this is a watershed period in human history – our very
existence. Most of human history has been the failing struggle of truth against
abused power. That will change, dramatically, before I am dead and gone. People
are waking up, there is a paradigm-shift happening, and the old ways are
changing, to paraphrase Bob Dylan. I think that both the general population and
the so-called leaders are realizing that we don’t need them anymore; that they
are, in fact, detrimental to human civilization.
25. WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR THE FUTURE?
The future is always coming at you from around the
corner, so I allow for that by not planning overmuch. I planned, decades ago,
to be a writer, and I have achieved that. It is an ongoing life, not a finite
accomplishment, so it colours much of what I imagine for my future. I imagine
writing many more books, and better books each time. I have plans, as I said,
short-term, for the creation of at least three books after the one I am in the
midst of. Long-term, I know I have at least a dozen books in me after those are
done, on all manner of topics, in a number of genres. Some book ideas have been
with me for decades. As I check off each one completed, I seem to draw strength
for the even bigger challenges I have in mind.
Outside of writing, I plan to get to Greece for a
sojourn, not for tourism but for simply living as close to the people and the
daily culture as I can. I don’t know why that particular country is important
to me, but it has beckoned me for decades. Some day, I will stop being busy and
will take the time just for Greece.
Other plans: some time on the African continent, not sure
where yet. I would also like to return to Germany and France, two countries I
love. And more than one return to the U.K., Scotland, Ireland, Wales.
26. WHAT FIVE BOOKS WOULD YOU TAKE TO
HEAVEN?
Well, a big diary,
for starters. I’d want to describe everything, and keep tabs on things and
people – if there are what you could call people. And I’d want to have a look
at their Constitution, then follow up with a lot of thinking and note-taking,
to keep them honest.
I’d take Justin
Bieber’s two – count them, two – biographies. Nah, kidding. Bieber won’t be
there, so I couldn’t get an autograph.
Four more books...
hmmm. No Bible. They’d have those. Or, even better, they would have evolved far
beyond the Bible. Well, they’d have to, in my mind – otherwise it would be a
pretty measly heaven. I don’t know if I would bring any books other than my
infinite diary. I have a feeling we’d all be too busy evolving, rapidly, to
have any time to read books. I’d likely drop my diary habit after the first
week or so and evolve into some weird amorphous being with the soul of a yet
unwritten, unwritable symphony.
27. DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN ANY OF YOUR
CHARACTERS?
I see myself in both Gareth Pugh and Adrianna, in Kronos Duet. They are aspects of my
anima and animus, or yin and yang. I am also very much an old man named Ed, in
my short story Average Monsters. All
my love affairs are there, and my continuing remembrance of their beauty, of
the women who set my life alight, made my heart leap in my throat.
I also see my nightmares in many of my antagonists. They
are not just mean characters, though; they are existential horrors, forced into
‘flesh,’ so to speak, and allowed life for a while. They are my golems, (not to
be mistaken for Gollum), my Frankenstein’s monsters. They insist on being born,
so they come from somewhere within, some strange psychic dynamic that demands
voice.
28. DOES THE PUBLISHING INDUSTRY
FRUSTRATE YOU?
Yes, to no end. Publishers act like elitists, and yet
often show no sense of judgment or aesthetics, or even ethics, to earn
themselves an elite position. That a publisher can demand that you beg them,
sometimes for years, for a smidgen of their attention, then demand that you
submit your manuscript only to them, and you wait, for a year or more for them
to shift their royal arse and maybe get around to commenting on it – well,
that’s simply abominable. It’s no surprise that so many writers are choosing to
self-publish, rather than spend decades, cap-in-hand, toiling away at query
letters and synopses and sending off manuscripts that cost an arm to mail. The
big publishers are after money, first and foremost, and that is unavoidable.
They maintain a huge matrix of ‘machinery’ and real estate and employees, and
must look at the bottom line always, in order to survive and keep the machinery
running. So, we get inspired by work like Harry Potter and Wool, and all of my
favourite books (see above) and we also get 50 Shades of Pornographic Drivel,
and their ilk.
Meanwhile, smaller publishers struggle along, sometimes
bringing out a gem or two, and doing a great service to writing that doesn’t
have dollar signs gleaming all over it. I like small publishers. I’m talking
informally with one now about publishing a novel, so that obviously affects my
view of them. But they do fill an essential role, to bring to life the
‘alternative’ writing, the ‘maybe not a bestseller’ which nevertheless is a
good or great piece of work. They are really struggling, and mostly supported
by governments, who like to cut funding regularly, so I admire the people who
run them, and persevere.
29. DID YOU EVER THINK OF QUITTING?
Yes, two days ago. I was tired and needed food. I’m
alright now.
30. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVOURITE MANUSCRIPT
TO WRITE? WHY?
My favourite is one I am working on, the post-apocalyptic
Salt Lick. I love the character, who
is little more than a child, and yet, living in a kind of hard medieval world,
has had to grow up tough and no-nonsense. Thankfully, he hasn’t taken the last
part too much to heart, and is full of all sorts of nonsense and whimsy. He is
a lustful, naive, warrior-dreamer, who doesn’t know about human culture,
doesn’t know how to be polite or diplomatic, who can’t spell and has no clue
about grammar. Yet he tells a magnificent tale, and survives like a dystopian
Oliver Twist through everything. I’m not even a quarter through the manuscript
yet, but I know everything about him. He is not a character I invent, he is a
spirit possession I translate, and, as with Adrianna in Kronos, I love him dearly.
31. HOW WOULD YOU DEFINE ‘SUCCESS’ AS A
WRITER?
Writing your heart and soul, your spirit and sex and
passions; and having that published, and loved by an ever-growing readership.
Some money from it would be nice, so as to fuel more writing, and more living.
It’s a damn hard slog, but it’s also a privileged life, as is the life of any
artist, or dedicated athlete. It’s a life in the ‘upper reaches,’ where the air
alters your being; and that, in itself, is a kind of success, just breaking
that fence, slipping that lock and getting into that landscape.
32. WHAT SHOULD READERS WALK AWAY FROM
YOUR BOOKS KNOWING? HOW SHOULD THEY FEEL?
First, I would want them to say “That was a damn good
read!” That’s a good thing to know.
I would hope that they feel that an authentic voice has
spoken to them, about authenticity itself; that they have taken part in an
enticing drama that was worth the time, and that even changed their view of life
a little. I would hope that they know that there is always a core of beautiful
strength in being human, oh-so-human, and that no matter what the odds, life is
both a gift, and something for you to partake of as co-creator. That’s the big
message in what I write: you can choose to be creative, or destructive, so
choose wisely and with a good heart, if I can put it in such simple terms. The
creative will always triumph, though it has to do so in the face of the
destructive.
That’s all quite metaphysical, and I suppose my message
is metaphysics, wrapped up in human bodies and human drama. I would like my
readers to feel hope, after they have read one of my novels, but also to know
reality, in all its grittiness, a little better too.
33. HOW MUCH THOUGHT GOES INTO DESIGNING
A BOOK COVER?
My book covers, as far as I am concerned, are works of
art. One, for my short stories, is actually a painting by a very talented
artist named Luke Turvey. The cover of Kronos
Duet was done by an exceptional artist I know named Axl Ernst. She casually
does sidewalk chalk replicas of Michelangelo’s work, and is very modest about
her gift. I was privileged to have her do the cover for me.
I know you can make half-decent book covers online, and
even Amazon gives you some pretty good stuff, for self-publishers. But there’s
a lot of cookie-cutter stuff out there, and a lot of genre-specific art, such
as the pastels and cartoonish covers for humorous ‘chick-lit” and the garish
art work on many a fantasy or science-fiction novel. To each their own. I buy a
book for its contents; and only after I have read it do I decide whether I want
to keep a certain copy, with a particular cover. Some covers impress me, or
haunt me, or give me great joy to look at, so to that extent, the thought that
went into them matters.
34. WHAT’S YOUR ULTIMATE DREAM?
Magnificent evolution.
35. WRITING IS ONE THING. WHAT ABOUT
MARKETING YOU, YOUR BOOKS AND YOUR BRAND? ANY THOUGHTS?
I’m no expert, and don’t particularly like this side of
the writer’s life, but it must be done. I have taken the advice of other
writers and finally joined Twitter @aldoushuw. It has surprised me in its
efficiency, in that I now have a number of followers after merely a month on
Twitter, and have had made some friends, and found a lot of online avenues to
further promote my work, from people and organizations who want to do that kind
of thing for writers, bless them. I write two blogs, not so much to market
myself – although they serve that purpose – but to reach people with all sorts
of ideas. I use LinkedIn, About Me and Facebook, although I don’t much like FB.
I’m on Goodreads and Shelfari, and a LinkedIn site for writers called Writers
Hangout.
Even better, I will be doing some readings from my novel
and short stories in London, and hopefully other places, in the near future.
London is holding an Indie Writers Festival, in which I’m happily taking part.
It’s a good thing to get out there and meet people, readers and other writers,
and give them a face to go with the name, and a persona that they can relate
to.
Finally, I must say, in all sincerity, that I owe a debt
of gratitude to you, Clancy, and other people online who have great spirit and
open hearts and who help promote writers and artists. Your sites are marvelous,
and of the highest quality, so they are a valuable part of my day. The fact
that you interview people like me, and review books, makes a big difference.
Writers can feel like voices in the wilderness all too often. That you walk
into that wilderness with a smile and some nourishment means a great deal, and
I thank you for that.
36. ARE YOUR BOOKS SELF-PUBLISHED?
Yes. I’ve had a few short stories published by others,
but no novel yet. I don’t mind. All that matters is getting my work to people;
I don’t care if that’s through self-publishing or through traditional
publishing. There are positives and negatives to both.
37. DESCRIBE YOURSELF IN FIVE WORDS.
Honest, passionate, authentic, sentimental, dreamer.
38. WHAT PISSES YOU OFF MOST?
The aggressive celebration of ignorance; and vanity.
39. WHAT IS THE TITLE OF THE LAST BOOK
YOU READ? GOOD ONE?
I just re-read Patricia Cornwell’s Body of Evidence. I love her forensic murder-mysteries for their
sheer escapism, and for the bits you learn about forensics. She writes pretty much to formula, and isn’t
known for her fine aesthetic sense, or ability to blow you away with prose; but
many is the day that I have curled up with one of her goodies and just loved
every second of it. I haven’t read much of her newer stuff. She went through a
phase of writing everything in present tense, which I find irksome to read, and
unconvincing if it is not done really well. So I tend to go back to her earlier
stuff.
When I’m writing, I can only read simplistic, escapist
books. It’s safer that way: I’m not influenced, then, by a powerful writing
style or silenced by someone’s brilliance.
40. WHAT WOULD BE THE VERY LAST SENTENCE
YOU’D WRITE?
I told you I was ill.
41. WHAT WOULD MAKE YOU HAPPIER THAN YOU ARE NOW? CARE
TO SHARE?
I live with what medical science calls Major Depressive
Disorder, so happy is a kind of conundrum for me. I also see happiness, or joy,
as something fleeting. That might sound like sheer semantics, but to me it
isn’t. I have known times of incredible joy – when in love, with animals, with
nature, and in brief moments where my writings have garnered real, authentic
response from readers, and, of course, positive feedback. But I feel it is much
more realistic, and sane, to aim for contentment, rather than this chimera
called happiness. The U.S.A. has as one of its foundations the “pursuit of
happiness.” I think that’s a recipe for
madness, and I think America is living proof of that, for all its marvelous
culture and accomplishments.
Having said that, I sometimes daydream – and night dream
– of having the perfect partner. In the actual night dreams, the soul-feeling
that’s expressed in that person is life-fulfilling. I think that this is
well-nigh impossible in mundane life, but it sure would be wonderful. But, I
tend to dream the impossible, and always have. That’s the soul, the psyche I
was born to live with, and to live out.
42. ANYTHING YOU’D LIKE TO ADD?
A kiss. An Anthony Hopkins kiss of sheer kindness.
oAuthor Link: nab.ie/b0bme
Clancy's comment: Thank you, Mr Richards. I enjoyed your honest comments about the frustrations of the publishing industry. Keep writing ...
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