Ending

So this review of Adam Nevill’s The Ritual (at The Hat Rack) prompted this excellent blogpost  over at The Speculative Scotsman, and also this excellent blogpost at Spooky Reads, which – if you haven’t already clicked on the links – are about the endings of horror novels, and how they’re often disappointing and, more specifically, how it’s a tricky thing to satisfyingly end a horror novel. Do you explain everything, and in doing so rob the novel of the mystery, the unknown, that made it what it is? Or do you refrain, and finish the book without explaining the nature of the horror, thereby potentially giving the impression that there’s no internal logic to your world, that you threw in all the supernatural stuff purely for effect, or – worse – for expedience?

It’s a good question. My personal approach (when writing) is to have all of the logic and explanations worked out, but only include the details that are appropriate to the narrative viewpoint. It was easier with THE LEAPING than with THE THING ON THE SHORE, because the point of the horror in THE LEAPING was that it was random and nihilistic and ‘why me?’, like the cancer suffered by the protagonist’s father. I struggled to know where to draw the line between explanation and mystery in THE THING ON THE SHORE, though.

But what I really wanted to add to the conversation was my feelings as a reader. And my feelings as a reader are that I don’t want anything much explained at the end of a book, to be honest. Genre aside, I don’t want everything wrapped up. If when I get to the last line of the last page of a book all of my questions are answered, then I forget the book more quickly. A neat ending makes a book easier to swallow, and I don’t want that. I want a book that feels like it’s stuck in the throat. The mind’s throat. An angular book with sharp corners that leaves grooves in the mind’s throat for the mind’s tongue to probe at, to keep returning to. I want to read books that I’ll remember, and I remember books that leave me with questions, not answers. Books that make me feel something exactly not the warm glow of resolution, basically. Not always, but often.

That’s what I like to read, and that’s what I’d like to write. When I work out how to do it in horror fiction without leaving readers feeling cheated, then, well, hopefully you’ll let me know.

Pictures From The Enderground #3

Brilliant Email

A couple of days ago I received the below e-mail from somebody called peterbd. The subject was ‘relieved’. (Since originally posting this, I’ve added the subsequent correspondence).

you are tom fletcher and you appear to be a writer. i know nothing about you. are you a good writer? i have no clue. you seem like one though. i can tell because i googled you. i made the mistake of typing tom fletcher sans writer after your name. on my screen came a tom fletcher who isn’t like you. this tom fletcher looks like he’s trying too hard. fucking insane. i like my tom fletcher’s to not have highlights. no look at me attitude. your the REAL tom fletcher dammit. and i’m the captain of the tom fletcher crew. do you write poetry? fiction? nonfiction? don’t have the slightest the clue. what do you care anyway. your at the top of your game probably. i’m just a little person for whom you don’t have time. life for tom fletcher must be sublime. you seem like a sophisticated londoner. maybe i’m wrong but you exude high class energy. you would never associate with me. i’m from the bottomless pit known as new jersey. so tom fletcher who is allegedly from london and is not the freak who originally came up on my google search. please continue writing and purging your hurt. the world needs you. there’s only one you. when i find the time to pick up one of your books my life will change guaranteed. as i flip through the pages i’ll never curse the day of discovering this gem. but mostly i’ll be relieved. relieved that that tom fletcher the writer i don’t hate like that imposter vehemently.  

Hi Peter.

Thank you for your e-mail. Yours is exactly the kind of e-mail I hoped to receive when I made my e-mail address available online.

I am a writer and I do live in England, though not London. And to answer your question I write fiction – novels and short stories. (Not currently available in America). For what it’s worth, I’m glad you feel the way you do about the other Tom Fletcher. I can’t explain why. Some kind of schadenfreude, probably; quite a vicious reason. If he is the Tom Fletcher I’m thinking of, then he is a singer with millions of adoring fans. I can’t sing at all. You ask if I am a good writer – I don’t know, but I am confident that I’m a better writer than I am a singer.

I hope you are still relieved, and not disappointed.

Tom Fletcher

PS - would you mind if I posted your e-mail on my blog? I have friends for whom the Tom Fletcher / Tom Fletcher confusion is a source of some (small) amusement. I’d credit it to you, i.e. Peterbd, or not - whichever you prefer

you have my blessing the real Tom Fletcher sans shitty highlights. you have my blessing 

BFS Awards

THE LEAPING has been shortlisted for the BFS ‘Best Novel’ award, due to be announced at FantasyCon 2011. This is a real honour – thank you hugely for everybody who voted for it at the longlist stage.

Pictures From The Enderground #2

The Ravenglass Eye – Cover

 

Pictures From The Enderground #1