Category Archives: Writer Interviews

SUNDAY SCENE: ELAINE EVEREST ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM HER WOOLWORTHS GIRLS BOOKS

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Having (so far) written ten books in ‘The Woolworths Girls’ series I thought long and hard about a favourite scene from the series. My mind kept straying to Alexandra Road in Erith, Kent, where many of my characters either live or visit. Why is it so special to me? It is because I not only set the series in the town where I was born and lived for so many years, but because it was also the road where I lived when first married in 1972. Writers are told to write about what they know, and I certainly made the most of that!

Although I set my books in the past it was easy to imagine number thirteen in times gone by as the road had changed very little externally since 1903 when the houses were built. The four terraces of bay fronted homes may now have new families living in them and so many mod cons, but the ghosts of the past linger on. As a young bride I was told stories of the people who first lived there, and what happened during the two wars. Even though I was not writing novels at that time I adored these stories, as well as the gossip and tittle tattle, with some linking to my own family. I discovered two great aunts had lived at the top end of the road during the 1920s, and a couple only a few doors up from my house had a son who had been in the army with my dad. Across the road another neighbour informed me she had been ‘courted’ by my dad… It was almost as if my family had turned into my own saga! My only thoughts whilst living at number thirteen was that I’d really liked to have experienced the WW2 years living in the house as it survived apart from a wonky wall in the hall which occurred after a bomb dropped nearby in 1940.

These days I devour any information about people who once lived in Alexandra Road. Fortunately, with being able to use Facebook, local groups have popped up where we can chat about our school years and living in the area of Slade Green and Erith. I’ve heard from three women who all lived in number thirteen at different time. I even chatted with the lady whose father had laid the awful multi-coloured floor tiles in the living room during the 1950s that were still there in 1972. What grabbed my attention most was the talk of street parties to celebrate, the end of wars, coronations of different monarchs, royal weddings, and our own much loved queen’s anniversaries. Alexandra Road won the best decorated street in the South-East in 1977 for Queen Elizabeth’s silver jubilee and I was there and part of the history of the road. I recall how every house was adorned in silver foil scrunched along the guttering, courtesy of a local meat pie factory. How sheets were dyed so we could make bunting that hung across the road between every one of the seventy-five houses.  It was a grand street party with trestle tables up the road and children in fancy dress. Not having children to dress up, my three dogs wore red, white, and blue ribbons attached to their collars.

Looking back, it is the road I remember most, and recalling the stories I wove around the lives of the families behind the lace curtains in those bay windows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: SUSAN GRIFFIN ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM SCARLETT’S STORY

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Scarlett is a character from my novel The Amethyst Necklace, and was the first person to appear in my head when I was thinking up the plot for the book. However, as that book progressed, Scarlett soon became a larger and more colourful character than I had anticipated, with her own heart-breaking story overshadowing the dual-timeline book.

However, she was a pivotal part of the novel so I kept her in and decided to give her a smaller role to play in the book. That was when realisation dawned. Scarlett had to have her own novel, so that she could spread her wings, and tell the readers of The Amethyst Necklace her own story. And Scarlett’s Story, the book, was born.

After suffering the loss of her mother and siblings to the Spanish Influenza Epidemic, Scarlett’s father returns from the war in 1918 a changed man. The shock of this and her recent losses, gives Scarlett the strange gift of second sight, where she experiences dreams and visions of what might happen in the future. As a child this is frightening and something to be kept hidden, and when her father dies soon after his return from the trenches, Scarlett is left an orphan at only 10 years old.

Scarlett has experienced a difficult life, but with courage and determination she claws her way to a comfortable lifestyle. It’s not one, though, that’s true to her nature, and when she finally falls properly in love, with all the joy and heartache that brings, she comes to realise where her real values lie.

This excerpt from the book is my favourite chapter, where Scarlett realises that the man standing in front of her is the handsome stranger in her dreams.

Then it happened. As we locked our gaze defiantly, each of us it seemed was unable to look away. And as the seconds ticked by, I began drowning in those hazel eyes. With a jolt I realised that this was the man I’d been dreaming of for years, the man who in my dreams had loved me more than life itself.

Breaking the spell, Frankie tore his eyes from me and shook his head vigorously. Then, turning on his heel, he hurried back through the hallway, leaving me gasping for breath and wondering what exactly had just happened.

As Frankie reached the door, he spun around and glared back at me. ‘Women like you don’t know what harm they’re doing!’ he bellowed, before striding angrily down the footpath and banging the back gate shut behind him.

This is the point in the novel where Scarlett understands she may have been mistaken in her search for the comfort of material possessions in her life. And later in the book when she thinks she’s lost Frankie, after his plane is shot down over enemy occupied France, she is heartbroken.

With Scarlett’s Story I wanted to give Scarlett a difficult journey, a mission to become someone of importance, even though she was from lowly beginnings. This was a challenge she rose to and overcame, and once she had accepted love into her life, she went from a child who had nothing, to a woman who had everything.

As is so often the case in life, what we think we want and what we really need, are two different things entirely. And when Scarlett fell in love for the first time, she soon realised it was love that she had been searching for all along.

 

 

https://susangriffinauthor.com/

 

 

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: PENNY HAMPSON ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM A PLETHORA OF PHANTOMS

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One of the perks of being a writer is being able to put one’s characters in dangerous situations and coming up with believable ways in which they can extricate themselves. A favourite example of mine occurs in my book, A Plethora of Phantoms, because it marks the point where my main character starts to become the man he wants to be.

Aristocrat Freddie Lanyon is not your typical hero; he’s reserved, doesn’t enjoy being the centre of attention, and is head over heels in love with Bath antique dealer Marcus. Sadly, Freddie thinks he’s blown his chance for love because he’s too timid about coming out. Marcus has gone missing, so, urged by Marcus’ distraught sister, Freddie stays the night with her in Marcus’ flat above the antique shop. Unfortunately, a quiet night’s sleep is not what Freddie gets.

Woken in the early hours by the sounds of a violent scuffle in the street outside, Freddie spies Marcus being assaulted by two thugs as they attempt to gain entry to the shop below. Freddie telephones the police for assistance and is instructed to remain where he is, but this is an instruction that Freddie chooses to ignore – it would be a pretty dull story if our hero did nothing at all.

Tiptoeing swiftly down to the first-floor kitchen and pausing only to pick up something heavy – a sharpening steel – Freddie carried on towards the ground floor entrance of the flat. The bolts slid back silently. The sound of muffled voices told him that the street door had been breached and the intruders were attempting to gain entry to the shop.

            “Hurry up!” A harsh voice ordered.

            There was a groan. Freddie knew it was Marcus. Anger rose in his chest.

            “Key in the bloody number or I’ll hammer you again and you wouldn’t want me to spoil that pretty face of yours, would you?”

            Another voice chipped in, “You’d have thought he’d had enough when we smashed his fingers. Must be something really special in that safe of yours, eh, Spender?”

            Freddie took a deep breath. Now was not the time to hesitate. He had to take them by surprise.

            Clutching the steel in one hand Freddie flung the door open and charged forward with a roar, but instead of aiming high he went low, landing a heavy blow across the legs of the assailant who had Marcus in a stranglehold. The guy screamed as his limbs buckled and he crumpled into a heap on the floor, freeing Marcus. Freddie leapt on to the thug’s back, determined to keep him immobile until the police arrived, and watched as Marcus slid to his knees making choking sounds. Bracing himself for an attack from the assailant’s accomplice, Freddie looked up to see this guy staring open-mouthed with terror, not at him, but at something behind him.

            The crook’s mouth opened and closed but there was no sound as he slowly backed away.

            If Freddie didn’t know better, he’d have sworn that this ugly customer had seen something awful, not just a bloke in pyjama bottoms wielding a steel.

I loved turning Freddie into an action hero. Seeing Marcus being threatened with violence galvanises him into doing something out of character to save the day, although he does have a little supernatural assistance – this is a ghost story, after all.

I had great fun with Freddie, especially in this scene where he changes from being a quiet man to action hero.

 

To discover more about my action-filled romance stories visit my website: https://pennyhampson.co.uk/

 

 

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: CLARE SWATMAN ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM BEFORE WE GROW OLD

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It’s so hard to pick a favourite scene from any book, so for this, I’m plumping for the very first scene in my latest book, Before We Grow Old – partly because I like it and partly so I don’t give anything else away! In this opening scene, Fran and Will bump into each other by chance in a busy London cafe – and the last time they’d seen each other had been 25 years before, when they’d been teenagers in love. Here’s the moment they meet:

The next few seconds were a scramble of wiping the table and floor, and apologising and stammering. Which is why it took me so long to actually look at the man who’d accidentally bumped into me in this busy café. I noticed his mop of expensively cut blonde hair first, peppered with streaks of grey and tousled into subtle spikes. Then I noticed his smile: the friendly mouth and glistening white teeth, followed by his sparkling blue eyes, which lit up as he looked at me.
‘Oh…’ I stammered, and almost fell into my seat, my mouth open like a goldfish.
‘Fran?’
‘Will.’ I stared at him for a moment too long.  ‘I – do you want to sit down? I think it’s dry now.’ I looked at him again and indicated the seat opposite me as my stomach rolled over. ‘If you have time, of course.’

I enjoyed imagining what it might feel like to suddenly be confronted by someone who you’d not only loved so deeply, so obsessively, but who had hurt you so badly when they’d upped and left that it had affected you for the rest of your life. It’s not necessarily something that you would think about every day, but the way something like that makes you feel definitely has an impact on the way you see things, and the way you react to people. There’s always a before and an after to any kind of heart-breaking moment, and I really wanted to get it right.

I enjoyed imagining how awkward Will and Fran might both have felt after Will bumped into her, and left hot chocolate dripping all over the floor; the realisation that they knew each other, that they’d loved each other once. I wanted to capture how Fran might have felt such a conflicting range of emotions, from excitement to shock to anger to embarrassment, all within the space of just a few seconds. And although I wanted them both to feel awkward at first, I also wanted to let them have a conversation, to talk to each other – and they do just that, even if they end up skirting round what they really want to say. Here’s where I think it sums it up best:

I blew across the top of my hot chocolate, watching as the cool air skimmed across the foamy surface. Okay, so he’d decided not to talk about the past. That was fine with me. More than fine, in fact. That was good. It was too early to be raking over old ground. Besides, what would be the point?

And yet my hands still gripped my mug so tightly that my knuckles turned white, as the words I wanted to ask him hung in the air between us, unsaid.

I hope this makes it clear that there are lots of things that are unsaid between them – and that this is the launchpad for the rest of the story!

 

www.clareswatmanauthor.com

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: JENNIFER BOHNET ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM VILLA OF SECOND CHANCES

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Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they? But sometimes other people and life itself gets in the way of that happening.

The scene I am about to share with you is from ‘Villa of Second Chances’. In this book several of the characters find themselves at a crossroads where their lives can only move forward when they fully embrace their past. But those long ago secrets and mistakes all conspire to throw complicated shadows from the past into the present.

Freya and Marcus are re-marrying after realising their divorce a few years ago, was a mistake. In this scene, Freya is remembering their first wedding as she drives to have lunch with her mother Effie, in Antibes.

. . . The chosen day had been bathed in blue skies and April sunshine. Her dad had been alive then and had proudly walked her down the aisle of St. Petrox Church – the ancient church out on the Dartmouth headland. Clemmie and Angela had been her bridesmaids, and Marcus’s boyhood friend, Rufus, had been his best man. Marcus’s fellow officers had formed the traditional archway of swords for the two of them as she and her new husband took their first steps together as man and wife. The reception at the now defunct and much-missed iconic Gunfield Hotel on the banks of the Dart had been a wonderful, relaxed affair. . .

Gunfield Hotel (Jim Cozens Photographer)

The Gunfield Hotel on the banks of the River Dart did actually exist years ago and was, let’s say bohemian, in its dealings with guests. If you wanted formal perfection, you went to another hotel. The Gunfield Hotel was a fun place that did its own thing and plays an important part in my story as it unfolds.

Over lunch Effie turns to Freya and ask the question . . . 

‘So, what’s happening with Verity?’

Freya stiffened. ‘I’ve sent her the invite, as you wanted me to, but haven’t heard anything. To be honest, I’m hoping that it’s too short notice for her to come. She’s probably spending the summer on some Greek island or the latest “in” place she’s discovered.’

‘She’s family,’ Effie said. ‘Hyacinth would be turning in her grave if she knew her daughter was persona non grata at your wedding.’

Freya sighed. ‘She’s not exactly persona non grata, but even you have to admit Verity can be difficult. . .

. . . ’If she does accept, she’ll expect to stay with you and the others at the Villa Sésame. Is there room?’

Freya hesitated before shaking her head. She knew Effie would be cross when she told her the truth, that she was deliberately not mentioning the villa arrangement to Verity because there was no way she wanted her cousin spoiling the run-up to the wedding for the others. . .

. . .  ‘Clemmie is definitely coming?’ Effie asked as she picked up her cutlery.

‘Yes, and Angela.’ Freya had her fingers firmly crossed as she answered. No way did she want Clemmie backing out because of Verity’s presence, if indeed, her cousin decided to show up.

‘I’m really looking forward to having time to catch up with them properly – especially Angela, after all she’s been through with the accident and Paul’s death. Clemmie says the last time she saw her she was still a shadow of her former self. Only to be expected, I suppose, and it will take time. I’m hoping the invitation to Villa Sésame has given her something to look forward to.’ . . .

 

Find out more about Jennifer on her Facebook page:  https://bit.ly/3qglPh4

 

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: VIVIEN BROWN ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM FIVE UNFORGIVABLE THINGS

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When I started to write my second novel, Five Unforgivable Things, I wanted to follow all the ups and downs of a family, from its beginnings when Kate and Dan first meet in the seventies right up to the present day, exploring the pivotal decisions and mistakes the couple make along the way and what impact they have on their children as they grow up.

Each of the now adult offspring is introduced in a way that reveals something important about their lives, and the ‘introduction’ scene I most enjoyed writing is the one featuring Natalie, the first of the siblings to appear on the page.

Natalie is entering a wedding dress shop alone. In the window she has spotted what could be the perfect dress for her Christmas wedding to childhood sweetheart Phil but, with no family or friends with her, how will she know if it’s the right one, with no-one ‘to oooh and aaah and spin her around in all directions and take sneaky photos on their phones?’

I well remember accompanying my own daughter to a bridal shop a few years ago, with her sister, the prospective chief bridesmaid, also in tow. That sea of long white dresses billowing on a seemingly never-ending rail right across one side of the room, and all the sparkling tiaras, floaty veils, beaded bags and very posh shoes – unforgettable! In the novel I describe the shop Natalie enters as ‘an oasis of beauty and calm. There was a deep cream carpet and floor-to-ceiling mirrors without so much as a smudge on their shiny gilt-edged glass. The sweet scent of jasmine drifted in the air…’

But it can be a bit daunting when the assistant hands out glasses of fizz and starts measuring and fussing. Ivory or white? Lace or satin? Shape? Style? How long a train? For Natalie, not only is she making these choices alone but the choices themselves are a lot more restricted. There are hints that something is different here as Natalie enters and a look of surprise flits across the shop assistant’s face before being ‘swallowed up in what was clearly a well-practised customer-friendly smile.’ It’s a look Natalie is used to, one ‘that told her she was not quite who, or what, had been expected to come rolling in.’

‘Sorry about the carpet,’ says Natalie, as her wheels leave a trail of dirt and leaves behind them. And so we learn that Natalie is in a wheelchair, and that the beautiful traditional dresses that sweep the floor as they flow along behind a walking bride will never be quite right for ‘someone like her’.

This is a very short scene but it gives the reader a peep into Natalie’s mindset as she ponders her sisters’ absence, realises that the last thing she really wants on her big day is to be the centre of attention, and that the dream dress in the window is never going to work for her.

Yet, I did not want the reader to pity her. Natalie is in many ways the happiest of the siblings, and the only one to have found true love with a man who adores her just as she is. Still, how she came to be disabled will form an important element as the story unravels, and is at the heart of the mistakes and tragedies that have rocked Kate and Dan’s marriage and family life and are so hard to forgive.

 

https://twitter.com/VivBrownAuthor

 

 

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: MELANIE HEWITT ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM LOOKING FOR THE DURRELLS

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In May 2019 as I sat in the Panorama restaurant in St George South on a typically idyllic, light and heat infused afternoon in Corfu, I suddenly thought – If the Durrell family were here now, rather than in the 1930’s, what would they be doing, how would they live?

The character of Penny came into my mind. She was the stone dropped into the pond that created the ripple in the lives of those she would meet.

I have no idea if other writers work in the same way, but as soon as the seed of an idea was there, certain scenes immediately began to play like a film reel in my head. I had visions of Penny and Dimitris on a boat sailing to Corfu, the tour reps welcome meeting and Penny’s first experience of Corfu Town.

A scene by the harbour, with Penny – who’s a book illustrator – painting, with Tess’s young son Theo, though is one that I’d like to look more closely at.

The small harbour for me is the real heart of St George and can be seen from the “Athena” restaurant, the hub of life, love and action in the book. Penny and Theo have both lost their fathers.

Having lost my own dad when he was only in his 60’s and subsequently worked for a time in a hospice, there were issues and experiences around grief and grieving I wanted to explore.

Whilst grieving can follow familiar and similar phases and timelines, it’s an individual and sometimes solitary experience. Reading about or sharing, experiencing what others are going through can help the healing. As Penny experiences here.

“A wave of compassion and tenderness towards him almost overwhelmed Penny as she watched. To lose a father at just four years old was beyond her comprehension. All the years of paternal love she had received felt more miraculous than ever. Gratitude blocked out her grief as its healing warmth embraced her.”

Theo also shares with her that sometimes he can’t remember his father’s face when he thinks of him and this worries him.

Tess, Theo’s mother is moving through her grief for lost husband Georgios and I wanted to weave together the experiences of them all – the universality of loss. Whether a friend, parent or partner. Often loss is a taboo – I’ve known people avoid those who’ve had a recent bereavement rather than have to chat, or because they’re worried they’ll say the wrong thing.

As Penny and Theo paint, the activity draws people to them. Although in a new place, travelling alone Penny is in her element when she paints and this connection with something familiar and comforting, relaxes her.

She connects with the sea, the heat, the feel of her bare feet on the stone harbour pathway and the cool when she dangles her feet in the sea.

The subtext here is the way life carries on – sensations, the daily course of the sun, new friendships and the desire to embrace all these things – coupled with the fear of letting the grief go, because it feels as though that’s all you have left of a loved one.

St George South harbour is also the place where I always go to in my mind when I need to find peace, sanctuary.

Even more reason then, in these times, to share grief and talk about it more – whether through the pages of a book or with a friend or colleague. As someone once said ”we read to know we are not alone.

 

https://www.thebookseller.com/news/harper-inspire-publish-hewitts-looking-durrells-1259141

 

 

 

WELSH WRITING WEDNESDAYS: CHRIS LLOYD ON WALES AS A STATE OF MIND

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Wales has an extraordinary breadth of landscapes and moods. From cities to hamlets, from rural idylls to the legacy of the mines. A beautiful country pockmarked by elements of its past that has learnt to make a virtue out of the ravages it’s experienced. It’s a landscape and a history that invite legend and myth to flourish, a haven for stories and storytellers.

So, if that’s the case, why do I set all my books outside Wales?

In many ways, Wales is a state of mind. A way of viewing the world – both our own and others – that is born of being a small nation. How I view the world, the places I’ve lived, the countries I’ve visited, is determined not just by where I happen to be, but where I happen to be from.

When I was twenty, I went to Spain for six months as part of my degree. I ended up going back there after graduating and staying for twenty-four years, twenty of them in Catalonia. My connection with Catalonia – initially the small city of Girona and then the big guns of Barcelona – was immediate. I felt an affinity with its history of being the smaller partner to a more powerful neighbour, a culture that had been denied and pushed and pulled about at various times, a language that had been banned and belittled, and a culture that continued to thrive despite everything it had faced. And I viewed it all through the prism of my own background.

And that is why, despite the richness of Wales as a setting, there was never any question in my mind that I should write about Catalonia. The problem was that I waited until I was living back in Wales before having the idea to write a book set there, a monument to my planning skills. Except it wasn’t a problem. Just as when I’d first gone to live in Catalonia, I found myself looking at Wales through new eyes and finally understanding how I felt about being Welsh, so writing about Girona from a distance actually helped me pin down my thoughts and feelings about my former adopted home. Oddly, I’ve found that to write about somewhere I love, I need a distance from it, which is probably one of my barriers to writing stories set in Wales – I live here.

The first in my Catalan trilogy, City of Good Death, featuring Elisenda Domènech, a police officer in the newly-created Catalan police force, draws enormously from Catalan culture and the history and legends of Girona. A killer is using the Virgin of Good Death, a small statue dating from the Middle Ages, when it served to give convicted prisoners a final blessing before they were led out of the city to their execution, to announce the impending death of someone they feel is deserving of execution. Unfortunately, there are those in the city who agree and who applaud the killer’s every move. Until the victims become less deserving.

It was a similar passion that led to my new series, featuring Eddie Giral, a French police detective in Paris under the Nazi Occupation. I’d been fascinated for years by the notions of resistance and collaboration, and the blurred lines between them, but I wanted to write the story from a Parisian’s point of view, not the guns and guts heroism of the movies, but the day-to-day survival of ordinary people trying to get by. As near to the real history as possible. And I think that that is an essentially Welsh vision of life – an interest in society and community, an affinity with the underdog and the need to preserve a sense of self.

 

Follow Chris on Twitter: https://twitter.com/chrislloydbcn