Ghosts from the past

Three days on the Sussex coast last December and one doesn't stand a chance.

At least that's how it was for me.

Half-lost and driving along unfamiliar roads, it was as if something guided us deliberately past a rather small sign that read 'Aviation Museum.'  Despite the pouring rain and a heading toward our Southampton hotel, we reversed and made a right-hand turn into a narrow drive that led toward a hangar and a few old aircraft that stood guard directly outside.

The hangar door was just slightly open and there was a handful of men, bundled for the dank weather, some sitting on stools working on small aircraft parts.

Then I saw a sign that informed us that the museum wouldn't be reopening until April.  Never accused of being a wallflower, I grabbed my Nikon and walked up to the men and introduced myself.

Long story made short for your reading pleasure, this wonderful group took pity on the fact, I'm sure, that two lost and tired (international tourist) souls ought to, at the very least, be shown some of the aircraft inside.

Now, having made previous trips to England these past few years and spending inordinate amounts of time at the Imperial War Museum, London (take the Bakerloo line and get off at Lambeth North - a few minutes walk to the IWM) I wasn't about to let ceremony, or a sign that could well have read 'Come back in the spring,' deter me from breathing in the musty, oil-drenched scent of WWII aeroplanes. My imagination was already flooded with ideas for a new novel.

Mind you, at about the same time, another voice in my head screamed, "Are you mad?  Another novel?  More endless months of research and writing and keeping dates and times and authenticity at the forefront?"

God, yes!

This was, after all, the old RAF station, Tangmere.

Tangmere!

Could it have been any more coincidental that the museum we stumbled upon was the one I had read about numerous times when researching Vera Atkins, SOE, and the French Resistance?  Here was the very place where RAF Group Captain Hugh Verity flew so many Lysander missions into occupied France.

And so I pushed on.  Half-aware of my please-show-me-more attitude and my commitment to common courtesy, I gushed over displays and discussion of SOE artifacts and RAF pilots who flew bravely into unknown territory across the English Channel during the all-important 'moon periods.'

With my Nikon in hand, I snapped as many shots as I could, so that nothing was left to memory.

On the remainder of the drive to Southampton, we marvelled at our luck, though I couldn't help think it was more than luck, that we had crossed long-lost paths with F-Section's pilots and agents and Vera herself, all those years ago.

The story was already taking form.

Reach out for that helping hand

   So much of writing requires accuracy.  As I wrote in the blog post, ‘The Seductive Lure of Research,’ precise information, especially for a period piece, is vital.

    While a fiction writer incorporates (fact-based) accuracy, she/he may also build on those facts to create a model that exists within the story.  One of the greatest assets for me while writing Harbinger of Secrets was having the expertise of various individuals from many walks of life.

    In the early days of writing I sought the knowledge of the late Stanley Kaiser, a Canadian WWII veteran who was stationed in England during the war.  He spoke to me at length about so many aspects of wartime life in England.  He made a list of colloquialisms, brands of cigarettes, uniform types, pubs and beverages, and the ‘feel’ of the early ‘40s in Britain.

    British and Canadian doctors, listed in the book’s Acknowledgements, assisted me with various medical information, including what operating rooms would look like, the instruments of the day, and the lifestyle of 1940s’ British physicians.  I also met - by sheer luck and chance - a nurse who worked at St. Thomas’ Hospital after the war.  I was astonished that of all the hospitals in England, she worked at the very hospital I had written about some time before I met her.  It was one of a number of coincidences I encountered during the writing of the book.

    Englishman Alan Smith, along with his wife (who unfortunately has since passed away) sent me a great deal of information pertaining to aviation - his area of expertise - as well as life during the ‘40s.  Alan read the manuscript twice making sure that British terminology was correct, and also provided valued feedback.

    British Captain Jonathan Mercer of Holland America Line, emailed many anecdotes, assisted with all facts nautical, and contributed greatly to the chapters covering life at sea, and the disposition of sailors under varying conditions.

    The personal knowledge these individuals provided could not, in my opinion, be gleaned from books nor the Internet.  Being able to converse with these people directly, to call on them at whim, was both crucial and appreciated.

    Direct research - personal research - combined with factual book/Internet research is the quintessential method at the end of the day.

    On a slightly different note, seek out the assistance of friends, family and other authors.  What they provide, though on a different level, is also invaluable.  You know who your target audience is, you know who reads a variety of books, and you know who will be truthful with you.  Choose carefully those whose feedback will be (brutally) honest and will give your manuscript a once-over from a reader’s perspective.

    You want answers from these “test readers!”  Did the story lag?  Are the characters believable and well-drawn?  Did the setting seem authentic?  Were you eager to keep reading?  Ask them the nuts-and-bolts questions, providing the nuts-and-bolts answers a writer needs to know.

    Strive as well to seek out a well-known author or authors for critical feedback.  Put to use their experience and practical knowledge.  I can’t stress enough that learning from those who are considered successful in the literary field is paramount.  Listen to what they say, take note of their anecdotes, and benefit from critiques of your work.
   

The Seductive Lure of Research

   One of the most exciting parts of writing a novel - at least for this writer - is the research. With an already avid interest in London and Londoners during WWII, research was like enjoying a favourite pastime.  I never felt it was work.
 
    Others might call a favourite pastime their “passion.”  Personally, I feel that word is so overused that it loses its impact (much like the worn out adjective “awesome” now used in everyday conversation to describe anything from a hamburger to a new pair of trousers.) I won’t tell you that research is my “passion” or that it’s “awesome” but it can be a compelling and fascinating part of writing.
 
    There is a drawback, however, when a writer gets too engrossed in research.  One’s thirst for answers on a particular subject, not to mention the gratifying enjoyment of it all, can sometimes detract from the initial purpose of the exercise.  I think any writer worth her or his salt succumbs to the lure of research at least once or twice, but quickly realizes that a line must be drawn between research and research overkill.  When research becomes far more engrossing than the actual writing, one must know when to stop.
 
    The million dollar question, though, is when do you stop? How much information do you need to gather to write about a certain topic? I learned the hard way.  I learned that it was better to do the research, then write the particular chapter(s) promptly before delving any further into the fieldwork. Once the chapter(s) was written, I could go back to studying the topic that interested me “on my own time.”
 

Writing in Scenes

   Shortly after beginning Harbinger of Secrets I realized that I preferred not to write chapters in sequence.  I found this traditional way of writing to be less inspiring than what one well-known Canadian author termed “writing in scenes.”

    I was about a quarter of the way through the first draft of my book when my family and I were on a Caribbean cruise.  (Naturally, I had my laptop with me on holiday!)  One morning I took my computer to the ship’s library and started to look through the shelves.  Once I’d flipped through a few books I was motivated by a poem titled, “Reading Gaol” by Oscar Wilde. I wanted to write a chapter or two about Briscoe’s ship in the Irish Sea and his subsequent struggle with Eve Trelawney.  There was a passage in “Reading Gaol” which fit the story and Briscoe’s episode in the Irish Sea.  I then sketched out the details for the chapters and used a few lines of “Reading Gaol” in my novel.

    The two chapters that were roughly written while on the cruise ship resulted in powerful  outcomes for both Briscoe and Eve, while the inspiration unexpectedly came from an Oscar Wilde poem.

    Taking advantage of my albeit pleasant holiday at sea, - hardly a comparison to the ‘40s - I would also stroll around the promenade deck in the evenings when it was completely dark and not a light to be seen on the horizon.  I listened to the sounds of the sea, the way it collided with the ship, and felt the motions of the waves.  The blackness of the surroundings heightened the senses far more than daytime hours ever could.  Soon after this exercise, I would either make detailed sensory notes or weave these ‘senses’ directly into the chapters.

    Methods like these never failed to produce results for scenes I wanted to write.

    However - and it’s a significant ‘however’ - not writing in sequence, being left with a number of chapters/scenes is not the easiest method.  These chapters then had to be selected to reflect a chronological order, with chapter endings that would entice the reader to turn the page to the next chapter to see what happened next.

    Interestingly, one of the recurring comments I have had about Harbinger of Secrets is the phrase, “I couldn’t put it down, I wanted to see what happened next.”

    The other significant ‘however’ to writing in scenes is to be aware that not all chapters/scenes can be constant peaks of excitement.  Chapters/scenes in between the peak chapters must provide the reader with a breather, so to speak.

    On the other hand, writing in scenes has its benefits.  One of the most important is that the writer, whether inspired by research, external factors, or just plain frame of mind on any particular day, is richly motivated to get her/his ideas immediately into the story when the story is hot in their imagination.

The Deadly Writer's Block

   There is nothing worse for a writer than to encounter writer’s block. Unfortunately, I faced a blank screen a number of times as I wrote my novel and will, no doubt, face the deadly block again at some point.

    After consuming increasing amounts of caffeine to stimulate the senses and with hopes that the words would materialize on the screen, I found another method to work around the block.

    Since Harbinger of Secrets is a period novel - London during the Second World War - I turned to other strategies to get the words flowing again.  Caffeine just wasn’t doing the trick!

    I found the best inspiration, if you want to call it that, was to play music from the 1940s, since the book is set during that era.  I collected a large number of British and American songs from artists like Vera Lynn, Tommy Dorsey, Artie Shaw, Doris Day, Marlene Dietrich, Glenn Miller, and others.  I found this music provided exactly the right ambience, almost placing me in the 1940s.  It was a method that worked well for me.

    Alternatively, I would read the works of writers I admired, especially the works of Graham Greene.  His command of the English language was spectacular in my opinion, with a cadence that led the reader to read on and on.

    I’m sure other writers have their own remedies for writer’s block, but the two above never failed to inspire.

Our Modern Word Processor

We all learned to print as children.  Handwriting, hopefully, followed, though I’m not convinced everyone had the same quality of teaching in this discipline.  I’m tempted to write, ‘When I was a child we...’ but I’ll spare you that lecture.

I went to a school in London, England, where we practised handwriting on a daily basis.  Our stern headmistress was hell-bent on perfect penmanship.  I recall one afternoon when she came into our classroom and walked to the chalkboard at the front.  On it she instructed us that she no longer wanted us to write the letter ‘p’ so that the circle met the stick (of the ‘p.’)

“From now on, children, (we were never referred to as kids) we shall write our ‘p’s like this,” and proceeded to show us how we must not join the circle to the stick.  “It must be left open.”

She then meticulously wrote the amended letter ‘p’ all the way to the end of the line on the board.  Good pupils that we were, we took out our handwriting books and practised this new way of writing the letter ‘p.’

This was part of the Marion Richardson handwriting technique.  The following is a short description of her method:

“Marion Richardson, who was a London Schools Inspector, introduced in 1935 recommended joining most but not all letters.  She based her system on a series of writing patterns which were intended to provide a natural preparation for a handwriting style that could then be used throughout all school years.  The letters are more complex than the Print Script forms, but they do not have the loops and curls of Looped Cursive; the most distinctive forms of the Marion Richardson system are the long open /f/ and the open /b/ and /p/.”

When I moved to Canada in 1969, Richardson’s method was not used, nor do I think anyone would have known who Richardson was.  I don’t recall practising handwriting after landing in this country, at least not with the emphasis London placed on writing.

By the time I graduated high school I was handwriting the Canadian way - with loops - and was also a touch typist.  In retrospect, learning how to type properly was one of the best and most valuable things I ever learned.  I only wish I’d learned shorthand.

After typing on manual, electric, then electronic typewriters, the world progressed to word processors in the early 1980s.  Bulky machines, but at the time they were marvels of technology.  Micom, Wang, IBM, Xerox, Olivetti... they all came out with what we called ‘dedicated word processors.’  However, even these became obsolete with the introduction of personal micro-computers.  At this point the word processing software programs were, comparatively speaking, quite rudimentary by today’s standards.  DisplayWrite, MultiMate, WordPefect and Word, the latter being the up-and-comer from a new company called Microsoft, were programs that came on 51/4” and later 31/2” diskettes.  They were pretty slow, didn’t use a mouse, but relied on templates that fit over the keyboards.  The function keys were then used in conjunction with the Shift, Alt, and Ctrl keys, so that each function key would be assigned four attributes, or more.  They were also colour-coded for greater ease of use!  When I look back now, I have no idea how I could keep all the codes in my head when I taught those software programs on a daily basis.

Today, most people use Word.  I’m not a big fan of Word.  My favourite years ago was WordPerfect, a beautiful program, but like the proverbial bull in the china shop, Microsoft took over the market and WordPerfect was bumped down the food chain.  Since 1999 I have preferred to use an Apple Mac computer.  In years past I have used Word on the Mac, but with the advent of Apple’s iWork software, I am quickly becoming a fan of Pages, and have not used Word in some time.

Months ago, I took a look at a number of dedicated writing programs, of which there are a number out there.  I eventually decided on Scrivener.  It is an expansive program with a few bells and whistles that writers find very convenient - places for character details, research, submission standards for literary agents, etc.  My next novel will probably be written in Scrivener.

Before all this, before typewriters, dedicated word processors and word processing software programs for computers, writers wrote with a pencil or pen using ink out of ink bottles.  No editing on screen, no software to help out, simply the writer and their writing instrument.  My favourite author, Graham Greene, used a Parker 51 for most of his writing and I have a picture of him in a chaise longue editing his work with his favourite fountain pen.  I keep it pinned to a bulletin board to remind me how far we writers have come.

Or have we?

The view from the bomber

   If you’ve ever wondered what it was like to fly in a bomber over Germany during World War 2, the scan of a photograph I have illustrates it first-hand.

    The white colouring in this picture - and the white ‘scratches’ - are German flak, Germans guns firing at the Allied bombers overhead.  This is what the crew saw as their aircraft flew over Frankfurt the night of October 4th/5th, 1943.