How often do you come up with new ideas for a book? How many of those ideas would you estimate make it to a full manuscript?
I’m constantly thinking of “what if?” questions or extraordinary situations in which I might drop ordinary people to see how they cope. A fraction of those are right for a novel, and I have several half-finished books behind me, where the idea simply wasn’t enough to continue. Hostage is one of the rare times when I had the idea and knew almost immediately what would happen and how it would end. It made it a hugely enjoyable book to write and, I hope, to read.
As a writer, at times you’ve challenged yourself to step outside crime fiction and suspense. How does genre affect the way your stories develop? Do you think your suspense generally and Hostage specifically have benefitted from writing other types of books?
I am a firm believer that story is what matters, not genre, and I always think it is a shame when a reader staunchly refuses to read a particular type of book. Some of my favorite writers segue between, say, crime and literary fiction, and some of my favorite novels are a hybrid of two genres. My fourth novel, After the End, is a family drama, not a thriller, but it is every bit as suspenseful as a crime novel. The only difference I found in writing it was that the story was led more by the characters than by the plot. This pushed me to spend more time considering who the protagonists were and why they made the choices they did. As I came to write Hostage, I found myself naturally spending more time on the backstory for Adam and Mina, and I think the novel is richer for it.
How has your writing process changed since your first novel? Do you have any advice for new writers?
Sometimes, at a literary event or writing workshop, I read a section from my debut psychological thriller, I Let You Go. I remain exceptionally proud of that novel, which is published now in more than forty countries, but that doesn’t stop me wincing at some of the prose… Ten years of writing full-time has taught me a great deal, and I hope the next ten will teach me even more. Just as my prose—and plotting—has developed, so my process has changed. I am more analytical, more commercially aware, and quicker to abandon something I can see isn’t working.
I have two bits of advice for new writers: the first general and the second very specific and practical. First, read everything. Read the bestsellers, read books your friends rave about or your librarian recommends. Read nonfiction, crime novels, sci-fi, and historical romance, regardless of the shelf on which you see your own work sitting. Understand why these books make you want to turn the page—or why you can’t wait to put them down. Read, analyze, re-read. A good writer is a good reader.
When I started writing, I was still working full-time, and most new writers will know how difficult it can be to find time. Many authors are insistent that writing every day—no matter how few words—is the only way to be productive, but if that doesn’t work for you (it didn’t for me—I was too exhausted at the end of a police shift to string a sentence together), my second tip might be helpful. When you finish a writing session, don’t finish at the end of a chapter. Stop in the midst of a scene—halfway through a piece of dialogue even—and jot down a few bullet points for what follows. When you next sit at your keyboard or pick up your notebook, whether that’s the next day or a week later, you can plunge straight into your manuscript and make the most of your precious writing time with no fear of the blank page.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, I owe an enormous debt to a great number of people, without whom this book would not have been possible. Two readers donated to charity for the privilege of seeing a name of their choice appearing between these pages. My thanks to Tanya Barrow, whose mother-in-law, Patricia, truly is a Scottish Lady, and to Mike Carrivick, a former Qantas employee who worked on the very first London to Sydney flight in 1989. Your fictional demise was a noble one, Mike. Their generous donations were in support of Aerobility, a superb charity enabling people