| An Interview with Simon Clark |
| Louise: You got your start in the small press. Do you think the small press market has become a beneficial springboard for an aspiring writer’s career? Simon: Absolutely. I know some writers who have sat down, written a novel, sold it, and it's been their first published work. But those writers are few and far between; most have served an apprenticeship of writing short stories and the small press is a great outlet for them. In fact, it's more than an apprenticeship: the small press is a life support system for the aspiring writer. I met a lot of friends through the small press who have helped shape my career. I can't praise it highly enough, or recommend to new writers that they seek it out as an outlet and proving ground for their own work. When I was marketing my novel I was fortunate enough to tell the publisher there was pent up demand for a Simon Clark novel as I had managed to build up a following with my small press short stories; that probably helped make the sale. Louise: When a story really takes you over (For instance, you mention on your website that Blood Crazy was your Vesuvius of a book.) do you wonder; “Where is this coming from?” Why do you think it is that sometimes a novel just sweeps you away, refusing to be shaped and demanding to unfold on its own? Simon: A story can take possession of me. It's a bit weird I guess but wonderful when it happens. Also I'm wary of analysing it too much in case I inadvertently bust the mechanism. Of course, ancient writers would claim it was the gods or the muses channelling fully formed stories through the human, who became a conduit for the work; psychologist would suggest it was the unconscious parts of the mind creating the story. The unconscious has, I'm sure, a lot to do with the creative process; however, I've been telling stories for so long I've developed a kind of autopilot now. It wasn't always there and had to be built nut by bolt over years of writing. Also, the writer needs to have the courage to just let go. When it first started happening to me and the story came gushing out I did wonder if I was having the beginnings of a nervous breakdown. I was tempted to pull back and stop the flow. I'm glad I didn't though. When the story takes over and you feel that rush it's amazing. Louise: What techniques do you use to really get inside your characters’ heads, flesh them out and make them come alive? Simon: It is important to get inside the character's heads and worth every minute of time to do your homework on them first. There are simple mechanical techniques which do help enormously. One, could be to write a list of questions which you then answer from your character's point of view. Make the first one simple: Favourite colour? Favourite TV show? Then dig a little deeper. What's your earliest memory? Who was the most important person in your life and why? What's the best thing that's happened to you. At first, believe me, it will seem the most boring exercise in the world but at some point you will hit that nugget of gold. An incident in your character's life will suddenly blaze into life in your head. Where you were writing one sentence answers to the questions suddenly you'll realise you've written a couple of pages; what's more you might even realise you've started writing your novel or short story. Go with the flow. Let the character you've just breathed life into show you where the story's heading. Louise: Would you tell us a little bit about your first novel Nailed By The Heart and about the thrill, as well as the process, of seeing your manuscript become your first published book? Simon: Wow. Just incredible. When I first sold the novel I think I went into some kind of shock state. For days afterward I couldn't read a book: the words seemed to slide right off the page. Thing is, after selling a novel it all goes quiet for a few months. You've done your work, but you sit expectantly by the phone believing the editor will need you urgently for some important task. But the novel -- your novel! -- is in production now. Skilled people are typesetting, designing jackets, shaping the promotion; at some point the sales reps are briefed. But you, the writer, aren't part of it, which is bizarre when you make that first sale. You've cherished and loved the novel as you created it, but for the time being your work is done. It will only be when you proof read it and then promote it that you take part of it back again. Of course there's that giddy moment too when a flat envelope arrives with your dustjacket inside. You've just got to keep admiring it endlessly. Also you'll probably find a book of a similar size so you can wrap the dustjacket around just to see what it will really look like when the finished book does arrive. Then one day the van arrives with your dozen copies in a big box. It's like Christmases and birthdays rolled into one. Louise: Do you incorporate bits of your own personality, as well as aspects of family and friends, into the makeup of your characters? Simon: Yes, lots, although heavily disguised. Writers are like whales that feed on plankton we go through life with the jaws of our mind open wide sucking in all experiences, conversations, funny incidents, tragic moments. They are processed in the belly of the imagination then return through the typing fingers into the story. I could go through a novel with a pen marking dozens of real life incidents that become part of the fabric of the novel. Most are known only to me but every so often a family member or friend will say, 'Hey isn't this scene based on when you cut your finger on a can of corned beef?' or 'Is that character based on your daughter?' |
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