Where do you get your ideas from?
This is the question that every author gets asked, and none of us know, so we all have to make up something that sounds as if it's helpful. People are genuinely interested, I know, and it isn't polite to be facetious about it. For one thing, people don't always know you're making a joke. I once said in answer to this that I subscribed to Ideas 'R' Us, and someone wrote in and asked for the address.
But what interests me is why people ask. I can't believe that everyone isn't having ideas all the time. I think they are, actually, and they just don't recognise them as potential stories. Because the important thing is not just having the idea; it's writing the book. That's the difficult thing, the thing that takes the time and the energy and the discipline. The initial idea is much less important, actually, than what you do with it.
What do you do about writer's block?
I don't believe in it. All writing is difficult. The most you can hope for is a day when it goes reasonably easily. Plumbers don't get plumber's block, and doctors don't get doctor's block; why should writers be the only profession that gives a special name to the difficulty of working, and then expects sympathy for it?
Where do you work?
I used to work in a shed in my garden. But it got too crowded with books and manuscripts and all kinds of bits and pieces, and I got fed up with being down at the end of the garden, especially on rainy days; and then we moved house anyway, and I had to decide whether to take the shed with us or leave it there. In the end I gave it to a friend, the illustrator Ted Dewan - on condition that when he's finished with it, he'll give it to another writer. He's replaced the windows and some of the roof, and I like the idea that it'll get passed on to lots of other writers and illustrators, and each of them will replace this bit or that bit until there isn't an atom of the original shed left.
Anyway, I now work in a big study in the house we live in, and I have room for all my books, and for several power tools as well. I have a bandsaw and a drill press and a planer and a bench grinder in here, and two guitars and an accordion, and a lot of wood that I'm going to make things out of.
What is your favourite among your books?
Difficult. I like them all, for various reasons. And I know that each of them is imperfect. I know their flaws better than anyone. There's nothing you can tell me in criticism of my work that I haven't already found out for myself. But they each represented the best I could do at the time, and I'm fond of them.
What is a typical day like for you?
I'll get up at about half past seven and take my wife a cup of tea, and have my breakfast at the kitchen table reading the paper. I'll sit down at my desk at about half past nine and work until it's time for lunch, with a break for coffee half way through. If I'm lucky I'll have written three pages by then, and I can fool about with my power tools in the afternoon. If not, it's back to the desk until the three pages are covered.
I write with a ballpoint pen on A4 sized narrow-lined paper. The paper has got to have a grey or blue margin and two holes. I only write on one side, and when I've got to the bottom of the last page, I finish the sentence (or write one more) at the top of the next, so that the paper I look at each morning isn't blank. It's already beaten. That number of pages amounts, in my writing, to about 1100 words.
When I've finished a story I'll type it all on to the computer, editing as I go. Then I read it all again and think it's horrible, and get very depressed. That's one of the things you have to put up with. Eventually, after a lot of fiddling, it's sort of all right, but the best I can do; and that's when I send it off to the publisher.
Will there be another book about Lyra and Will?
There is already another book about Lyra. It's called Lyra's Oxford, and it will come out at the end of 2003. It's a short story set about two years after the end of The Amber Spyglass, and it contains some hints about The Book of Dust, which will follow ... in due course.
Who is your favourite character to write and why?
I like them all, of course. People are surprised when I say that I like Mrs Coulter, but what I mean is that I like writing about her, because she's so completely free of any moral constraint. There's nothing she wouldn't do, and that's a great delight for a storyteller, because it means your story can be unconstrained too. I'm not sure I'd like to know her in real life (well, of course I would; she'd be fascinating). Writers have always enjoyed the villains, and so do readers, if they're honest.
Can you give us some insight into what daemons are? Why don't non-humans have them?
I was discovering more about daemons all the way through - right up to the very end of THE AMBER SPYGLASS. And I'm sure there are other aspects of them that I haven't discovered yet. I don't want to say anything about them which will give away some of the plot of the final book, but I will say that the daemon is that part of you that helps you grow towards wisdom.
I don't know where the idea of them came from - it just emerged as I was trying to begin the story. I suddenly realised that Lyra had a daemon, and it all grew out of that. Of course, the daemons had to represent something important in the meaning of the story, and not be merely picturesque; otherwise they'd just get in the way. So there is a big difference between the daemons of children and adults, because the story as a whole is about growing up, or innocence and experience.
What books did you like when you were young?
Well, for one thing, I liked books I wasn't supposed to read - books for adults. I didn't always understand them, but I liked the feeling that I was sharing grown-up things.
I also loved comics. There was a comic called the Eagle, which pretty well every British boy and girl of my age used to read. There was a space pilot called Dan Dare and this great enemy the Mekon, who was green, and who had a tiny body and a huge great bald head, and who sat on a little saucer that floated in mid-air. I loved Superman and Batman comics too.
Among the 'proper' books I loved, there are some that I still read. One is Arthur Ransome's Swallows and Amazons. Another is the funniest children's book ever written, Norman Lindsay's The Magic Pudding. And there were all the Moomin books by Tove Jansson; and another book I remember was a novel called A Hundred Million Francs, by the French author Paul Berna. It was a good story, about a bunch of children in a dingy suburb of Paris who find a lot of money which has been hidden by some thieves, and all kinds of adventures follow.
The point about that book for me was that on page 34, there was a drawing of some of the kids defying the crooks, and I fell in love with the girl in the drawing. She was a tough-looking, very French sort of character, with a leather jacket and socks rolled down to her ankles and blonde hair and black eyes, and altogether I thought she was the girl for me.
I wouldn't be at all surprised - in fact, now I think about it, it's obvious - to find that the girl on page 34 of A Hundred Million Francs is the girl who four decades later turned up in my own book Northern Lights, or The Golden Compass, where she was called Lyra.
One more book: Erich Kästner's marvellous Emil and the Detectives.
How do you feel about letting people make a film from your books?
If I didn't want it to happen, I could always have said no. If I've written the story well enough, then a film won't spoil it; and if the film happens to be good, so much the better.
His Dark Materials seems to be against organised religion. Do you believe in God?
I don't know whether there's a God or not. Nobody does, no matter what they say. I think it's perfectly possible to explain how the universe came about without bringing God into it, but I don't know everything, and there may well be a God somewhere, hiding away.
Actually, if he is keeping out of sight, it's because he's ashamed of his followers and all the cruelty and ignorance they're responsible for promoting in his name. If I were him, I'd want nothing to do with them.
You once said that His Dark Materials is not a fantasy, but stark realism. What did you mean by that?
That comment got me into trouble with the fantasy people. What I mean by it was roughly this: that the story I was trying to write was about real people, not beings that don't exist like elves or hobbits. Lyra and Will and the other characters are meant to be human beings like us, and the story is about a universal human experience, namely growing up. The 'fantasy' parts of the story were there as a picture of aspects of human nature, not as something alien and strange. For example, readers have told me that the dæmons, which at first seem so utterly fantastic, soon become so familiar and essential a part of each character that they, the readers, feel as if they've got a dæmon themselves. And my point is that they have, that we all have. It's an aspect of our personality that we often overlook, but it's there. that's what I mean by realism: I was using the fantastical elements to say something that I thought was true about us and about our lives.
When did you start writing?
When I was very young. I used to tell stories to my friends and my younger brother, and then I began to write them down. They weren't very good.
Were you encouraged to be creative?
No, I was ignored. When anyone took any notice it was to point out what a twit I was, and laugh at me. This was the best possible preparation for the life of a novelist. If you have grown-ups fussing over you and encouraging you and taking an interest, you begin to think you're important, and furthermore that you need and deserve their attention. After a while you become incapable of working without someone else motivating you. You're much better off supplying your own energy, and writing in spite of the fact that no-one's interested, and even learning to put up with other people's contempt and ridicule. What do they know, anyway?
What inspires you?
Three things. (1) Money. I do this for a living. If I don't write well, I won't earn enough money to pay the bills. (2) The desire to make some sort of mark on the world - to make my name known. To leave something behind that will last a little longer than I do. (3) The sheer pleasure of craftsmanship: the endlessly absorbing delight of making things - in my case, stories - and of gradually learning more about how they work, and how to make them better.
When was your first book published?
It was published when I was 25 years old, and I was very pleased with myself. The book was terrible rubbish, though. I'm not even going to tell you what it was called.
Who do you write for - children or adults?
Myself. No-one else. If the story I write turns out to be the sort of thing that children enjoy reading, then well and good. But I don't write for children: I write books that children read. Some clever adults read them too.
How long does it take me to write a book?
It depends on how long the book is. THE FIREWORK-MAKER'S DAUGHTER took me six weeks, THE AMBER SPYGLASS three years.
What advice would I give to anyone who wants to write?
Don't listen to any advice, that's what I'd say. Write only what you want to write. Please yourself. YOU are the genius, they're not. Especially don't listen to people (such as publishers) who think that you need to write what readers say they want. Readers don't always know what they want. I don't know what I want to read until I go into a bookshop and look around at the books other people have written, and the books I enjoy reading most are books I would never in a million years have thought of myself. So the only thing you need to do is forget about pleasing other people, and aim to please yourself alone. That way, you'll have a chance of writing something that other people WILL want to read, because it'll take them by surprise. It's also much more fun writing to please yourself.
How does it feel to receive a good review or an award?
I feel pleased to live in a world where there are such good critics.
And how does it feel to receive a bad review?
I feel sad to live in a world where there are such poor critics.
What qualities do you need to be a successful writer?
Stubbornness, for a start. Pig-headed obstinacy. The capacity to sit still in front of an empty sheet of paper for hour upon hour and feel that your time is being valuably spent. Then I'd say an interest in the shapes of things. What shape is a story? Is a short story a different shape from a novel? What shape is a joke? Once you become interested in the structure of stories, you're well on the way.
What are the good things and the bad things about being a writer?
The good things are that you can dress as you like, do whatever you fancy doing and call it essential research, and so on ... and that you have work to do which is more absorbing and fascinating and important and fulfilling and enjoyable and lasting than anything else you can imagine. The bad things: unless you're lucky, you don't make much money, and it doesn't come regularly like a salary, so it's hard to do things like buy a house or bring up a family. Many very fine writers live on pitifully small amounts of money which arrives at irregular intervals. And if your work goes out of fashion, the money stops altogether.
How far is inspiration a factor in the process of writing?
Less than non-writers think. If you're going to make a living at this business - more importantly, if you're going to write anything that will last - you have to realise that a lot of the time, you're going to be writing without inspiration. The trick is to write just as well without it as with. Of course, you write less readily and fluently without it; but the interesting thing is to look at the private journals and letters of great writers and see how much of the time they just had to do without inspiration. Conrad, for example, groaned at the desperate emptiness of the pages he faced; and yet he managed to cover them. Amateurs think that if they were inspired all the time, they could be professionals. Professional know that if they relied on inspiration, they'd be amateurs.
In your article for The Writer's Handbook in 2000 you suggested that children¹s fiction was patronised by general publishing. Is this still true?
Not so much. The scene has changed - more, I suspect, because some children's books have made large amounts of money than because literary editors have suddenly become aware of quality they were somehow unable to see before.
What, if any advantages for the author are there in having a young readership?
It forces you not to let the story go out of your mind. If you stop telling a story, they stop reading. Story is very important; it's the events themselves, as Isaac Bashevis Singer says, that contain the wisdom - not what we say about them.
When you begin a book, does the plot come first or do you construct the story around characters that already exist in your mind? Or perhaps you begin from an entirely different point?
I begin with a picture of something intriguing happening, and I write to find out what led up to it and what the outcome will be. But everyone is different; this is what works for me.
At what stage in the writing process do you have your plot fully worked out?
Just after it's published, at the point when it's too late to fix all the problems.
Where do you go to look for your characters? Are they ever based on people you know?
I don't look for them. It feels as if they look for me, and they come fully formed. I seldom if ever have to make conscious adjustments. Mind you (see 'inspiration' above) I often have to wait quite a long time.
You have written several series with recurring characters. Do you set out with that intention and if not, at what stage is it apparent that the characters have the scope to develop over several titles?
I become fond of a character and see that there's another story in them, that's what usually happens. Besides, if I've already made up the background and done the reading and so on, I don't want to waste that work.
What were your own favourite books to read as a child?
Too many to list. Everything I could get hold of.
Your daily regime of hand-writing three pages every day in the shed at the bottom of your garden is well documented and you have previously stressed the importance of a disciplined approach to writing. Did you manage to stick to a rigorous schedule even before you were able to devote your whole time to writing?
It was easier then. The work of being a schoolteacher (for instance) is regular and timetabled, and you can build in your writing to the hour or so after midnight or before breakfast or whenever. But when you work full-time, the demands on your attention come flying from every direction and unpredictably, and it's harder to find that regularity that is so necessary.
Do you edit and re-write as you go along or do you wait until you have a complete draft?
Both.
You have been quoted as saying writers block is 'lot of howling nonsense.' But do you have any tricks or tactics to help things along when the words are not coming out as you want them?
No tricks. I just sit there groaning.
Do you test out your stories on anyone while you¹re writing them?
Never. My stories are none of the readers' business until I have finished them. The idea of asking people what they think is so bizarre as to be inconceivable to me; if these people know how a story should go, why aren't they writing stories of their own? I am a strong believer in the tyranny, the dictatorship, the absolute authority of the writer. On the other hand, when it comes to reading, the only thing that works is democracy.
The success of the His Dark Materials trilogy, the Harry Potter books and the re-newed interest in JRR Tolkien has seen fantasy dominate the children¹s market in recent years. Do you think it¹s important for aspiring children¹s writers to keep in mind current trends or should they in fact forget such considerations?
What they should do is take no notice whatsoever, and write exactly what they want to write. Back in 1996, how many people did we hear saying "We want the first Harry Potter book! We wish someone would write a book about Harry Potter! When is the first Harry Potter book going to come out? We can't wait!" None, is the answer. It's silly to ask the public what it wants. The public doesn't know what it wants until it sees what you can offer. So follow the whole of your nature and write the book that only you can write, and see what happens.
Did you or your publisher have any inclination of how successful the His Dark Materials trilogy would be when you first came up with the idea?
Absolutely none. I thought it would be read by about 500 people at most. But it was a book I wanted to write, and David Fickling wanted to publish. See the question and answer above!
Your books deal with many of life's big questions? God, the church, good and evil, love? and you are not afraid to challenge your young readers. Is that a conscious aim when you sit down in front of a blank sheet of paper? Do you think children's writing has a duty to pose difficult questions?
No. The only duty it has is best expressed in the words of Dr Johnson: "The only aim of writing is to help the reader better to enjoy life, or better to endure it."
You have run into criticism from certain religious groups who regard you as subversive, with the Catholic Herald describing your work as 'worthy of the bonfire.' Do such emotional responses concern or upset you or does it please you to generate strong reactions?
I'm delighted to have brought such excitement into what must be very dull lives.
Northern Lights was re-titled The Golden Compass for the American market. Why did this change come about? Do you have a title in mind when you start a story?
Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. The editor who made that change was also responsible for changing "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone", which made sense, into "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone," which didn't. At the time, I didn't have enough clout to resist.
You were a fan of comic books from childhood and your own stories are filled with striking imagery. Do you see your subject matter very visually as you write?
Yes. I like to make various things clear: where a scene is taking place, what time of day it is, where the light's coming from, what the weather's like, who's present - that sort of thing. Not all of them all the time, but some of them most of the time. It helps the reader to see what you would like them to see.
Your work has been performed on radio, television and the stage and the film rights to His Dark Materials have been sold. Is it difficult to give up your work to someone else¹s interpretation?
No. The democracy of reading (see above) means that as soon as a book is published you lose control of how it's interpreted anyhow, and so you should. To tell someone else how to read your book is to fall into the temptation of fundamentalism. When it comes to performance and film and so on, what you should do, it seems to me, is make sure the people you sell it to know what they're doing, and then leave them alone. You are better employed writing new books than arguing with people about how to interpret your existing ones.
Have you had any involvement in casting characters? Do you have preconceived notions of what they should be like?
I do have ideas, and when it's useful I make suggestions. But professional theatre or film people know far more actors and have far more knowledge than I have.
Are there any authors, either working now or in the past, whom you would recommend aspiring writers to read? You have talked in the past of the importance of reading other people so who has particularly influenced you? Should new writers be looking at the work of established authors to establish a set of rules or guidelines?
Not for rules and guidelines, but for helping to maintain a vision. It was a great help to me in writing HDM to return to Milton and Blake periodically.
Can aspiring writers learn much from creative writing courses or 'how-to' books?
Goodness knows. I don't think they would have helped me much. The most useful quality you can have as a writer (given a basic amount of talent) is stubbornness, pig-headedness, call it what you will - the insistence against all the evidence that you will produce something worth reading. I'm not sure you can teach that.
With publishers aware of the astronomical sales now possible, is this good news for emerging writers or does it generate pressures from publishers to clone a new 'Lyra and Will' or 'Harry Potter'?
Yes, publishers always want to publish what was a hit last year. Great publishers (like David Fickling) have the courage and vision to back things that might be successful in the future, but about which no-one can be sure.
Have you consciously set out to create female heroines like Lyra and Sally Lockhart? Have you found any difficulties as a male writer in creating young female characters?
No. I write almost always in the third person, and I don't think the narrator is male or female anyway. They're both, and young and old, and wise and silly, and sceptical and credulous, and innocent and experienced, all at once. Narrators are not even human - they're sprites. So there are no limits, no areas, or characters, or sexes, or times, where these sprites can't go. And they fix on what interests them. I wouldn't dream of deliberately choosing this or that sort of person, for political or social or commercial reasons, to write a book about. If the narrator isn't interested, the book won't come alive.
Have you created any minor characters that you would like to explore in more depth in other stories?
Yes, many times, and it's only lack of time that prevents me.
For somebody looking to get their stories for children published, is there any single piece of advice you would offer them?
It's implicit in the answer above: write exactly what only you can write. Don't make commercial calculations. Be crazy about it. Insist on the primacy of your own vision. And please, don't ask me to read your manuscript.
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