More than Writers

  The success and the longevity of a great novel does not lie entirely in the hands of its hero. Many of my favourite novels come with a surprise gift - the character who is most interesting of all, who is  not  the main protagonist. This is the character you wonder about later, the character that seems to step outside the story and comment on it, or the one whose dilemma is never really solved by the outcome of the plot. This character may be the one who highlights the theme by negating it. Here are three strong examples: 1)  Mr Bennett in  Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen Mr Bennett is the character around whom the story problem - the Entailment - is centred. Mr Bennett is the one who could have seen the family crisis coming, and who, as the head of the family, had the power to avert it - Lydia's elopement, which threatened to ruin the family. Mr Bennett is the one who allows himself the luxury of standing outside the story and commenting flippantly on...

  Thirty years ago I was only the partner of a writer. Now I am a writing buddy. I have been one for nearly twenty years.   Thank goodness we’ve no garage. It would take a lot of these to fill it! There is a world of difference. Back then, my attitude was this. I was happy for her that she had a pretty full time job to do, just as I had. We could share the joys of our completed projects. Meanwhile we could coexist in parallel. It was pleasant, of course, to hear news of progress and occasionally to read and admire a finished chapter. No need to bother me with the details, any more than I bothered her with mine. But after a while the sharing began to trickle over my imaginary boundary. That made me a little less enthusiastic… I’ve read this passage before… I’ve read this passage three times before. Why do I have to read and react again? Why am I being asked about the development of this character? How can I be expected to have a view on this plot device?  Mind you, on...

“ Do you think I’m violent now?” His one eye looks at his siblings, the other one has a cute penguin-stickered patch on. His little cherub face is looking delighted when he announces, “Well, when I’m seven, I will be a lot more violent!” He cackles a menacing laugh, whilst his chubby hand brings the spoonful of chocolate cereal to his mouth. His siblings smile indulgently, telling him he is dreadfully violent. He sighs contentedly, telling them he wants a very fighty birthday, with water pistols, handcuffs, the lot. Context is a funny thing, I thought, standing in the queue for the supermarket, feeling the warm sun on my face, a slight breeze, birds singing... So idyllic. The stress and mess around us feeling surreal. In fact, hard to remember that the whole reason of me standing yards away from the supermarket entrance, drinking in the sun, was so as not to endanger myself or others. The taut faces and suspicious glares from other shoppers forming a weird contrast to the ...

Today I was thinking about the relationships we form throughout our lives; those that endure through many seasons, and those that either fade away, or are deliberately broken. In life I've discovered that the dynamics between people can be understood in terms of energy exchange. Within a group of people there can be some who give energy to the group, and others who drain energy from those around them. Although we might not consciously acknowledge what is going on, in our lives this determines who we stay in relationship with, and who we instinctively want to distance ourselves from. In my novels I am fascinated by human psychology and by the way different personalities interact with each other, and in particular, group dynamics. I write about spiritual communities, cult groups and charismatic leaders, and have been infuenced by years of personal experience in this area. And yet I will have to say this: look no further than a group of writers if you want to explore intense rela...