Inspiration – I Walk Alone

Mist, bridges, jetties and inspiration

The Millers Pond episode proved to be a turning point, of sorts, for plotting my next book. The Botany Bay, Sholing characters wouldn’t talk to me because the plot didn’t work, no matter how much I tried to make it. As soon as I stopped listening for their voices, I heard the other characters clamouring to have their say. They weren’t in Sholing at all. They were in Eastleigh. On Valentine’s Day, Commando dropped me off outside a foggy Eastleigh Railway Station on his way to work. I hoped walking the five miles home would prove inspiring.

Research rabbit hole ~ 1931 midwives and handywomen

People often ask me how I come up with the ideas for my books. Usually, I say research into my family tree inspired them, but that’s only part of the story. Inspiration comes from many strange places. Sometimes I stumble upon intriguing things by accident, like the story of Eugenia Falleni, and they spark parts of a story or a character. Other times, the idea is there, but the research brings the characters to life. In Seventh Daughter, one character, Mabel, was an unqualified midwife, known back then as a handywoman, and another, Winnie, was a midwife. Researching the role of midwives and handywomen in the 1930s really helped me develop the characters of Mabel and Winnie.

An author’s life

Last week, I released the third book in my historic fiction series. It was exciting, especially the part where I got to hold the proof copy in my hand for the first time. Even so, the life of an author is not as full of adventure, intrigue and vast wealth as many people think. Top bestselling authors may have lives like that, but my experience (and I suspect theirs) is very different. If you’re thinking of writing a book, read on to understand the reality.

Misty St Denys morning

A cold, damp blanket of fog hung over Southampton on 11 January. As I crossed Cobden Bridge, I heard the haunting sound of distant fog horns and watched a lone gull circling. It felt as if he and I were alone on the river. Of course, we were far from alone, but walking in the fog imparts a feeling of splendid isolation. The water hanging in the air muffles the hum of traffic, and fellow travellers appear, like spectres out of the gloom, then disappear again as soon as they’ve passed. I’d planned to walk along the river, but the lack of visibility made me change my mind. Instead, I thought I might check out a few locations from my work in progress. St Denys was a key feature, so I walked across the bridge.

A pleasant surprise

Last week I was asked to give an author talk at a local school. I have to admit I was a little nervous. In my career, I have often had to stand in front of rooms full of people and give talks, but never promoting myself and never in front of a group of year 5 and 6 children. I felt more than a little out of my depth. Why would children be interested in anything I had to say? Did children even read books these days? These were the thoughts going round and round in my head as I prepared what I was going to say.

Northam – a picture is worth a thousand words

Researching the historical facts for Plagued was a learning curve The research took longer than the writing. Finding out what Southampton was like over a hundred years ago was helped by old maps, Kelly’s Directories, history sites and a great deal of reading and walking. The one thing that really brought Northam in 1918 to life though, was the wealth of old photographs I found. Today I’m going to share a few of them with you.

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