Saturday 18 August 2012

Casimir Greenfield - Wanted for Murder

It's just occurred to me that as a writer I probably commit more crimes than your average citizen. I don't mean crimes of the literary kind (although some might beg to differ) but rather those grim and grisly things we imagine and throw down on paper for all to see.

Slow Poison is an example. There are some pretty graphic scenes in there. The kind of things I find hard to read, harder to watch and yet, my characters have all been involved, are all accountable. 'Honest guv, it was the man in the camel coat what did it, not me!'

But as a writer, we have to allow our imaginations to run riot. Copious research and a long life throws up so much experience and anecdote that much is squeezed through the filter and onto the page.

Relief comes through the young adult pieces and the lyric writing (although David Ireland's Red House is like Silence of the Lambs set to music...) I'm certainly not Enid Blyton, though!

I was once advised to avoid allowing my wife to ever read my work. Apparently few author relationships survive it. Thank goodness we're still going strong after 4o+ years of very happy marriage. I do question her taste and sanity at times, though...


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