Today on the first
stop of his blog tour, David Jackson talks about the items he cannot write
without.
It ought to be
simple. Pen and paper. What more could you possibly need to write? Sit over
there and get some words down.
Not always that
easy. At least, not for me. Maybe I'm just fussy, but conditions have to be right
if I'm to produce anything worth reading. I don't think I'm talking about
anything extreme or weird here – I don't need to write in the nude while
sitting on a space hopper, for example (that one occasion was just an
experiment) – but I do have a few meagre requirements. Here they are:
Silence
This is a must for
me. Some writers like to work to music. I can't do that, especially if it
contains lyrics. I just end up singing along and dancing around the room and
looking stupid. I can just about cope with some muted background conversation,
but if it rises above a certain threshold, then be prepared for me to take
drastic action (by which I mean I'll stomp out of the room in a huff).
A computer
Pen and paper?
What century is this, anyway? I've tried it, and believe me, it sucks. I get
aching wrists, ink all over my hands, and my writing quickly degenerates into
something less readable than that produced by a chimp with a crayon. Give me technology
every time. The computer and I have an understanding. It lays its keyboard
bare, ready for me to thrash it with my words. I pound my thoughts into it with
impunity, and always it comes back for more. Except when its battery dies, and
then I loathe it with a passion.
Tea/coffee
Hot beverages must
be supplied at regular and frequent intervals. Which is a bummer when I'm the
one who has to get up and make them. I mean, I have to break off my train of
thought, leave my comfortable writing environment, go all the way downstairs,
fill the kettle, wait for it to boil, make the damn drink, then carry it all
the way back upstairs, where I'll put it on a coaster and forget to drink it –
so why the hell do I bother?
A plan
A blank page (or
in my case, a blank screen – see above) would bother me enormously if I
didn't
have a writing plan. It would stare at me and I would stare back, until one of
us started crying (so that would be me, then). It doesn’t have to be anything
plotted out to the nth degree, but I do need to know where I’m going next. If
I’m left to drift aimlessly, I just end up in the pub.
Family support
I don't mean any
old family. I'm not saying I have to pay the Wainwrights down the road to come
and cheer me on while I write. I'm talking about my own nearest and dearest.
Writing isn’t the most sociable of activities (in my day job I work with
computer geeks, so trust me that this is my field of expertise). We often
abandon family, friends and the cat to closet ourselves away while we use the
computer to do things we class as work. I don’t think I’d be selfish enough to keep
doing that if I suspected that my absence was greatly missed. Which it isn’t.
Ever. So, hey, what kind of family is that anyway?
So there’s my
list. What’s yours? (And if it features a space hopper, then I don’t want to
know).
A Tapping at My Window by David Jackson (£18.99, Zaffre)
out on 7th April 2016
A woman at home
in Liverpool is disturbed by a persistent tapping at her back door. She's
disturbed to discover the culprit is a raven, and tries to shoo it away. Which
is when the killer strikes. DS Nathan
Cody, still bearing the scars of an undercover mission that went horrifyingly
wrong, is put on the case. But the police have no leads, except the body of the
bird - and the victim's missing eyes. As
flashbacks from his past begin to intrude, Cody realises he is battling not
just a murderer, but his own inner demons too.
And then the killer strikes again, and Cody realises the threat isn't to
the people of Liverpool after all - it's to the police.
More information
about David and his books can be found on his website. You can also follow him on Twitter
@Author_Dave.
No comments:
Post a Comment