John Christopher emails

A couple of weeks ago I posted about the passing of children's author Sam Youd, AKA John Christopher. I'd emailed Sam back in 2002, we'd chatted for a while and he had agreed to sign two of his books for me. You can read the original blog post here.

I'd thought our emails had been lost forever, but just after I published the blog post Sam's daughter, Rose got in touch. She'd searched through her father's computer and found our correspondence there, filed away for a decade. Rose forwarded the emails to me and has agreed for me to publish them here, for which I am very grateful.

Its a fascinating insight into the later years of a mature and successful writer. Even with a list of best selling novels under various pseudonyms his frustrations at certain aspects of his career are evident. I started by asking him why so many of his books were now out of print.

I'm afraid you need to address your question to the publishers! Currently I have nothing in print in the UK, just the Tripods series in the US, but something like ten titles in Farsi. Unfortunately Iran does not recognize international copyright, but I did have some visitors recently from Tehran who brought me a carpet, several enamelled boxes, and a load of pistachio nuts (which two of my daughters took back to Bath to feed their pampered local badgers). I suppose things may change if Disney actually make their projected multi-movie epic based on the Tripods: my American publisher is bringing out a special 35th anniversary edition in hope of that. I'd like to use it to get some others back into print -- notably the Sword (Prince in Waiting) trilogy, which were my personal favourites. Might even get Death of Grass back in print, nearly fifty years on.

And somewhat surprisingly, I have a new (adult) title coming out next year. When I say new, I wrote it about six years ago and have only now found a publisher. He approached me in recollection of a book his father gave him as a boy, which he's now handed on to his son. Title was Malleson at Melbourne, under another pen-name, a fictionalized account of an Australian Test tour. Life is odd at times. (The new one is not about cricket, I should say, but a near-future speculation on Virtual Reality and our European destiny)

A decade on and the proposed Tripod feature films have yet to be made. The last mention seems to be in 2009, when Alex Proyas signed on to develop it. [Source: Digital Spy]
The Death of Grass did make it back into print and is now available widely, but few of Sam's other books are in general circulation in the UK today.
The virtual reality book Sam mentions was called Bad Dream, published in 2003.


Talk of Disney's Tripod's deal raised the ghost of the expensive mid-eighties BBC adaptation of the Tripods. Famously the BBC made only two series, adapting the first two books of the trilogy. The third was never made, leaving fans to speculate as to why it had not returned.

The BBC eventually decided they would like to complete their series, but by that time Disney had taken over and of course they take everything, throughout the known and alternate universes, over a time period stretching from before the Big Bang until after Entropic Death. Whether they will ever make the movie (or movies -- they talked about it as "our Lord of the Rings" at one time -- is more doubtful.  I have a feeling they've stalled on the very expensive screenplay they commissioned from Terry Hayes.

But who knows?  Maybe they will;  and maybe it will even be a good movie.

Other TV adaptions of Sam's work did see the light of day in Germany.

Empty World did reach the small screen once. A German company, Bavaria (Das Boot) did a 6-part TV serial of The Guardians and followed with a 90-minute teleplay of Empty World. Both in German. A German girl wrote to me saying they'd done the book in school, and she was shocked by the "kitsch-horror" Bavaria came up with. I asked to see the video, but they refused. Das ist das Leben.

[There are] no Prince in Waiting adaptations. I was told a few years back that some anonymous but famous star had a project in mind, but he presumably changed it; or couldn't raise the money -- a perpetual problem. The notion I did like goes back about twenty years when a musician who had read the books as a boy told me he'd like to write an opera trilogy, based on them. I told him I'd reserve operatic rights, but it never came into question. About a year ago there was an American who wanted to make a movie based on Lotus Caves. He seemed to have interesting ideas, but my (NY, NY) agent blew him out of the water. He lived in Plains View, NY, and my agent said that ruled him out as a serious contender: he'd grown up there.

I asked Sam about his working practices. Did he work on a computer? Had he consigned his typewriter to history, or was he a pen-and-paper man?

I've used PC since 1984 (first one, Olivetti, had no floppy and all of 10 MB memory) -- used to use a typewriter. Even when young my own handwriting defeated me.

I asked him how he felt about the internet - after all here we were happily exchanging emails. He seemed to have taken to a relatively new technology in his 70's. Did he have any plans for a larger presence on the web, an author's website perhaps?

Several decades ago it used to be said that the rare Edward Heath books were the unsigned ones. Since then things have escalated and not for the better. I had a publisher here a few months ago and we talked about a book called Spike Island, the history of a military hospital (where my parents probably met), near Southampton (where she was born). A few weeks later she sent me a copy, having retained other copies for herself and her brother. All signed. When I think of the sweat the poor sod of a writer put into that signing... only to have maybe hundreds of signed copies piled up awaiting remaindering...

It's getting the same with websites. OK if you're Nelson de Mille or Arthur Clarke, but otherwise verging on the feebly pretentious: photos of the writer's dog/cat, lunatic CVs, favourite recipes ..... Altogether a bit squirm-making. Indeed I've always had some difficulty with "interviews", which invariably wind up embarrassing me -- though I do succumb from time to time, God help me. And there is another negative point. A few years ago a chap called Terry Jenkins did me a website -- the John Christopher Cavern -- which was unauthorized (though to be fair to him not actually disapproved). He spent a lot of time and effort on this -- scanned in jackets of dozens of books, and stuff. Last year he understandably got bored or fed up with poor response, and dropped it. That was fine by me, especially since I hadn't sanctioned it in the first place. But while appreciating the favour I'm not inclined to encourage someone else to do the same, incurring mutual embarrassment when the same result ensued.

Finally I asked if he still had a passion for science-fiction, and was he working on anything at the moment?

I used to enjoy SF, but that's a long way back. It's changed a great deal since Gernsback and John W.C.

No, I'm not working on anything at the moment.

So our brief conversation drew to a close. Sam dutifully signed and returned the books, which I cherish to this day. Its sad to see Sam's published work in decline over the last decade, and its a sobering reminder that even the most popular writers can fall off the public radar in later years. How a writer deals with a shrinking readership is probably an even greater challenge than getting published in the first place.
  

Dare to Page Jump!

Page Jump!

I've never been an adrenaline junky.  I like the ground under my feet and the sky above me.

Years ago, when I had the opportunity to do a bungee jump I considered it for about three seconds, then decided it wasn't for me. The thought of two weeks of anxiety in the run up to doing the jump followed by sixty seconds of euphoric relief didn't seem to add up. Why? Because I could imagine how what it might be like, hear the rush of wind through my ears, feel the uncomfortable build up of pressure behind my eyes.

Yes, the actual event wouldn't be quite the same as I imagined it, but anyone who writes, or draws, or does something creative will have one thing in common - a fertile imagination. So I could also imagine my feet ripping from my ankle sockets, the rope snapping and my skull compressing into the soft matter that was once my brain as I hit the ground below me.

Too many variables, too much imagination. Or maybe you'd call it cowardice. Either way it means I'm not the sort who seeks out thrills, puts my body in harms way to get the blood pumping through it.

But that's not entirely true. My brain does seek those thrills, especially when I'm writing. I've noticed a growing obsession, a self-destructive streak in my storytelling that I've called 'Page Jumping'.

The first time it happened I had two characters from my début novel, Sorrowline, trapped in a room at the top of a hotel. My original plan was that they would sneak out of an unlocked door and make good their escape. But as I started writing it down the door became locked! Then the characters barricaded the door and set fire to the room. What were my characters doing? What was I doing? There was no way out, not that I could see, not that I had planned. I'd page jumped. I'd thrown myself off the edge of my planned narrative and didn't know what I was going to do next - didn't know where or how I'd land.

I could have deleted the few pages of chaos, gone back to my plan, but I chose to run with it and see if a parachute would open. During the night my sub-concious (who I believe knows exactly what he's doing, and likes to mess with me) offered up a solution that had been foreshadowed a few chapters earlier. Spookily it all fitted into place. My narrative parachute had opened, but not before everyone, including me, had bricked themselves wondering what was going to happen next. And if the writer doesn't know how to get out of a situation there's a good chance the reader won't see it coming either.

And its not just me that seeks the creative thrills of page jumping. Tony Jordan, creator of Hustle and co-creator of Life on Mars, discusses this very point:

The more I've page jumped the more addicted to it I've become. Its not always worked out, but in most cases its added an unexpected richness to my work. Its not for the faint hearted or the obsessive planners, but if you've not tried it yet - go for it! Page jump!

Getting Published - part 1

So, I promised I'd do some blog posts about how I got published. Well, ok, but this could take a while.

I've always wanted to write a novel. I think everyone does. Its one of those things that, if we just had the time, if we could just focus, we could get that brilliant idea down and get it done. That's how it was for me.

I'd tried a few times before, only ever getting as far as 30 pages before self-doubt caught up with me. I couldn't write a novel and it was silly of me to think I could. I had a grade B 'O' Level in English, and a CSE grade 1 in English Literature. I'd never been to University, I didn't know any authors and there was no way I could ever hope to be one.

But the dream persisted.

For years I did nothing about it, but gradually I started to write more and more. At first it was TV and radio scripts: the length was less daunting, only 30 pages for a half hour script. I could manage that, just about. Doing a few of those gave me confidence, and I hammered out a couple of 60 minute scripts for TV pilots that no one has yet to pick up. But the lack of success didn't seem to matter, I was enjoying learning, trying to get better.

But I still thought I'd never manage to focus on writing a book. I decided I needed help, and I turned to Stephen King. At this stage I'd never even read one of his books, (I know!). When I grew up I was into comics and heavy sci-fi. Horror didn't really appear on my radar. But for whatever reason I picked up a copy of his book, 'On Writing'. I took it on holiday with me to Scotland and devoured its contents.

Suddenly I saw what I was doing wrong, I understood why every attempt to write a book had stalled and died. It came down to one fundamental secret that King understood: fear and self-doubt dog us all, writers even more so. Once you've started a book you cannot look back for a moment or the Devil of Doubt will catch up with you and whisper thoughts of despair into your ears.

King taught me this: write every day, read every day. Like the best scientific formula its elegantly simple.

I came back from the Highlands fired up, determined to try again. I committed to writing every day, and reading every day, and I swore I would not look over my shoulder at my work-in-progress. I would keep ahead of the devil.

The next day I began to write up an idea I'd started about 6 months before. As usual I'd done a few brief chapters and lost my way. I took this germ of the idea and started again.

To be continued...

Draft 6 finished!

So is the draft 5 or 6? Or maybe 4 or 7? I've lost track, whatever number it is its been quite the overhaul. The first 80 pages have been beaten mercilessly into shape, and the rest has had some weighty re-tuning. The word count has dropped from 71k to just under 62k, but I don't think I've lost anything essential. I hope it all still hangs together.

This is the Readability Stats from Word. It puts the readership level at grade 4, which is 8-10 year olds. This is pretty much spot on for where I wanted to be. I think its a book for 9 and over, with plenty of overspill into the teen and YA market.

The Possibility of Impossible Dreams

When I'm not animating, or running a business, I like to write. Its a great way for me to unwind from the stresses of the day and let my brain explore other creative avenues.

So far I've written a sitcom for radio, (which was commission by Radio 4, but didn't quite get as far as going into production), a couple of drama series projects, and a few shorts. But whats' really got me by the throat over the last year is trying to write a novel.

When I was young I used to dream of writing a book. In fact I remember, at about the age of ten, writing a big list of things I was going to do when I grew up. The first thing was writing a novel at the age of 13, which lead to me eventually buying WH Smiths, and ultimately being the first man on Mars. I dreamed big! I gave little thought to how I might actually achieve all of this, but that's why childhood is so brilliant; reality hasn't yet crept in.

Over the years the plans for domination of the stationary world has been abandoned, as have any hopes of planting by boots into the red soil of another planet, but the thought of writing my own novel has persisted.

I've tried once or twice over the years, but the furthest I ever got was about 30 or 40 pages. Then I'd lose confidence, I'd put it aside of a while, and when I came back to it I'd want to start all over again. It became a cycle of failure.

Then last year, while on holiday in Scotland, I read Stephen King's 'On Writing'. King gave me the confidence, and advice, to try again. So on September 1st 2009 I picked up my latest attempt at a novel, a story called 'Yard Boy' which was a mere 10 pages at that time, and I started writing. I worked on it every day and didn't look back. One thing King taught me was how the fear of failure dogs every writer, and its usually only a day or two behind you. So I worked on it every day, even when I wasn't sure where I was going. I put my faith in the story and the writing process, and didn't dare look over my shoulder.

Three months later I had completed the first draft, a staggering (for me) 333 pages that had taken me by the scruff of my neck on an uncharted adventure into unplanned corners, unexpected places with characters who seemed to write themselves. Yes, its an old cliche that the story writes itself, but that's how it felt to me. I was a chronicler, along for the ride, but never truly in control.

Almost a year later I've recently finished a fourth draft, and have plans for two sequels. The title changed recently, thanks to an insightful observation , two pints of beer and a curry, with friend and author Curtis Jobling. Its now called 'Sorrowline', book one of the Timesmith Chronicles.

I'm still amazed that something that I did in my spare time is now - to me - a complete world populated by people I know. The process has changed me, its made me realise that sometimes the mad dreams of a 10-year-old boy are possible.

Perhaps there is still hope for that trip to Mars after all.

Change of title - The Timesmith Chronicles

Met up with Curtis Jobling last night for a curry. He was up in Saltburn doing another school project.We spent the night talking books, especially about his imminent launch in January. We also discussed Yard Boy and he pointed out how the title reminded him of Yardies -

During the 1950s, the British Government encouraged immigration to the country to fill existing job vacancies. Within the Caribbean community, new arrivals from Jamaica were sometimes referred to as "Yardies" due to their perceived lower financial status, though the term could also be applied with nostalgic affection. In the following years, gang violence or behaviour on the part of Jamaicans became known in wider British society as "Yardie culture" and the participants "Yardies". The terms "Yardie gang" or "Yardie gun violence" were largely used by the British media to described violent crimes in London's black community. The gangs in London are specifically known to have occupied and operated in their infamous grounds of Brixton, Harlesden, Stonebridge, Hackney and Tottenham.

I'd never really considered this, but of course first impressions really count. I was aware that a Yard Boy in America is someone who cleans out your yard or garden.

I told him that it was part of the Timesmith Trilogy, something he really liked. He suggested using that up front, and have the title as the secondary line. He suggested The Timesmith Chronicles, and I suggested Sorrowline.

So its not Yard Boy any more, its The Timesmith Chronicles, Book One, Sorrowline. Sounds good. Yard boy will still be used inside the book, but not as the title.