In the summer of 2014, as I wrote and published weekly installments of Gooseberry on Goodreads (not exactly a sequel to Wilkie Collins’s The Moonstone but more of a spin-off), I recorded my thoughts and feelings on the whole creative process here. Would I manage to pull it off, or would the project crash and burn? Come and share the traumas and the triumphs of writing a novel on the hoof.
This week my publishers placed the finished book—which currently feels a long way from finished—on LibraryThings’s Earlier Reviewer’s list for next month’s giveaway. It will be advertised on their site throughout October for prospective reviewers to bid on, then sent out early in November. As much as it panics me to do this now, it has to be done so that reviews are being generated when the book is actually published in late November. Click on the above link if you’d like to bid, and are prepared to give an honest review—you do need to sign up to LibraryThing, though.
As far as this week’s chapter goes, when Gooseberry sends George to deliver the note to Mr. Hook (the Client), I saw a golden opportunity to bring the monkey (who answers all your questions) back into the story. Well, I’d be a fool to pass up a chance like that!
This week’s chapter reveals the identities of the two people depicted in the daguerreotype: Duleep Singh, the now deposed Maharajah of Lahore, and his East-India-Company-appointed guardian, Dr. John Login. Both are real historical characters, and the extraordinary tale that Murthwaite relates is in fact a relatively historically accurate account of how the young Duleep came to power. I only cut out one major player—the wazir Dhian’s brother, Gulab, who took Chand Kaur’s side—in order to simplify what was already quite a convoluted story. Such pity, for brother-versus-brother scenarios are so very primal! In a sense, it’s yet another tale of a family in turmoil, and, as readers of The Scarab Heart will know, this is one of my favorite subject matters. I should point out that, though nearly everything you’ve read about Duleep and Login is accurate so far, the rest of their involvement within the novel will be fictional.
Mr. Murthwaite is, of course, one of The Moonstone’s original characters. I think I’ve done him justice in terms of his description, his characterization, and his speech patterns. I’ve also placed him at the Oriental Club, the gentleman’s club that he would have belonged to, if he had actually existed.
As far as Gooseberry himself goes, I am truly beginning to LOVE writing him. It’s such a pleasure seeing him try to negotiate his way through the world, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. With him as narrator, it’s a rather delicate balancing act to show what his peers actually think of him, but it’s worth all the effort.
Till next week,
Michael
P.S. So what do you think? If you can, please post your comments on Goodreads (my blog has a comments box!)
WARNING: AS THIS POST IS ABOUT THE PROCESS OF WRITING, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO KNOW HOW THE NOVEL WILL END!
First of all, a disclaimer. The Thames Tunnel was, as far as I can tell, never a venue for prostitution. The idea suggested itself when I was reading a contemporary review of the tunnel experience by the Frenchman, François Wey, who, in 1853, wrote, “These booths ought certainly to be closed by the Government, both for the sake of hygiene and morality, as it is patent that trade here is only a thin cloak for prostitution”. It’s almost certain that this was sour grapes on Wey’s part, typical of the petty rivalry—on both sides—between Britain and France at that time.
Well, at least now we know who put the daguerreotype in Aunt Merridew’s handbag. I wonder if anyone saw that coming? Do let me know if you did. It was the one trick I kept up my sleeve when I couldn’t come up with a plot in the allotted time.
Even though I still don’t have a plot as such, every single choice I make regarding my characters narrows down and shapes what the novel must become. For example, having just introduced mad Johnny Knight, even at this point I know that a showdown between Gooseberry and Johnny is inevitable, and should by rights provide the climax to the book. This is an example of what I like to think of as a story’s “imperative”—something that must occur due to what has happened already.
As soon as I knew there was to be a showdown, I also understood another imperative. Gooseberry’s change of circumstance from master pickpocket to office boy only occurred because his boots had been stolen, so when the climax comes, Gooseberry must have his boots taken away from him again. It’s a small detail, but it’s important both both physically and psychologically, for it should herald yet another change of circumstance for the boy.
What worries me is that, no matter how intelligent or resourceful Gooseberry may be, how can he hope to best a raging psychopath who’s twice his size and much, much stronger? Oh, why, when I had the chance, didn’t I give him some skills with a slingshot in the first chapter?
Till next week,
Michael
P.S. Do let me know what you think of it. If you can, please post your comments on Goodreads (my blog has a comments box!)
Loads of research needed this week, as Gooseberry finds himself following Bertha beneath the Thames. What I’m talking about, of course, is the Thames Tunnel, the world’s first sub-aquatic tunnel, which now serves as part of the East London Line for the London Underground network. A couple of years ago I went down what remains of the Rotherhithe entrance, a circular shaft that only descends part of the way, which has now been sealed off with an ugly plug of concrete. As nothing remains of the steps or the landings, I found it impossible to imagine what the tunnel had looked like in its heyday. Luckily this week I was able to find some nicely detailed drawings that I could refer to. I also found a number of fascinating contemporary accounts by its visitors of their experiences in the tunnel.
The problem for me as an author is how to bring this setting alive without making it sound like a history lesson, and deciding what to include—and how to present it—is very much part of that. So the turnstile, the organ music, and the stalls with their marble counters and cheap wares are authentic, as is the coffee shop (and also the waiter, but not his jacket). The Egyptian Rune Reader is simply The Egyptian Necromancer by another name, but I have to say that the monkey is pure invention on my part (although this doesn’t mean that there wasn’t one!) What was important to me was that tunnel should come alive in the writing, and I think that it has.
Till next week,
Michael
P.S. Do let me know what you think of it. If you can, please post your comments on Goodreads (my blog has a comments box!)
