A Book's Colouring

At the moment I'm working on three books at the same time. I've always worked on two or more books at once.

I've always been aware that each book develops its own atmosphere and colouring - and that as I move from one book to another, the mental 'weather' can change drastically. But, while being aware of it, it's never been something that I've thought about very clearly, or tried to pin down, until now.

The Sterkarms, for instance. The colouring of the Sterkarm books is red and black, like their badge - and the colouring came first, before I decided on the badge. When I think of the books, or the work I have to do on the third book, this is what pulls together all the disparate characters, plot-lines, scene-settings and so on - the glowering red and black colouring.

For me, the Sterkarm books are dark, low rooms, half filled with peat smoke. A glimmer of red firelight flickers on the underside of the grey smoke. Embers glower redly.

The Sterkarm books have many scenes which take place outside, but in my mind, in this overall impression, the days are overcast, the sky thick and grey with cloud. The greens of the hillsides are dark, the bracken russet - all the colours tilt towards their darker shades.

But then, if I move to the other book I'm working on, Follow The Dogs, there's a big, instant change. The book is set is Scotland, as are the Sterkarm books - it's about a boy following herd dogs across Scotland, from Fife in the East, to the Isle of Mull in the West. He

Follow The Dogs by Susan Price

describes sheltering from bad weather, and grey, wet days - yet in my head, this book is fresh and bright. The hills are a brighter green, the sky blue. A fresh, cool wind blows through it. For me, the book is full of air and space - the view from the hills above Oban, across the sea to the Hebrides, with the water blazing like polished silver.

And take a third book. I've been dressing up my Story Collector, which is a series of folk-tales, told in the 'frame' of an elderly gentleman in the 19th Century. Mr. Grimsby, a retired manufacturer, collects stories from his maidservant, her grandmother, an old soldier, and others.

When I think of this 'frame', I see polished brown leather, brass and firelight. I smell the gas-lights that burned in the house I was born in, and coal burning in a grate.

But if I think of the stories told within the frames, I 'see' something altogether lighter - in fact, something very like the silhouettes I've

Art work: Andrew Price

been creating (with a lot of help from my brother) for the title page of each story. They remind me, a little, of the blue and white tiles used to decorate stoves and fireplaces.

I'm not sure if I'm explaining it clearly, but the impressions I describe above are nothing to do with the descriptions of the scenes within each book. Instead, they are a sort of handle by which I can grab everything to do with a particular story and bring it together so I can enter it.

I mentioned it to my brother, and he immediately understood what I meant. He said it exists for paintings too. Before a painting exists, he said, while it's still only an idea in his mind, it has an atmosphere, a colouring, by which he can 'hold' it. Then, since he usually sketches first, before adding colour, he has to find the lines that form it. But even after he's found those lines, and what was once just an idea is firmly drawn - the picture still retains that mental colouring and atmosphere.

I'm curious to know if others recognise this. Do your books, your poems, your paintings each have their own unique colouring and atmosphere, which sum them up in your mind?

The Latest News On Sterkarm 3 Is...

Did I already mention that the new Sterkarm book is going to be

Come who dares and meddle with us

called  'A Sterkarm Tryst?'

It's all official now: the editor agrees - is even referring to it as 'Tryst' in emails now.

I never was happy with its working title 'Sterkarm Embrace.' It always seemed a bit awkward and, well, just wrong.

I was trying to come up with alternatives when my partner, Davy, suggested 'Tryst.' The more I thought about it, the more right it seemed. And Davy is chuffed because he so often complains that I don't listen to him. "At least you listened to 'Tryst,'" he said, the other day. The book is certain to be a huge success, of course, because I listened to him and called it 'Tryst' instead of anything else.

I suppose, these days, we mostly think of 'Tryst' as an archaic, romantic word, referring to star-crossed lovers stealing away to meet under the moon. My always-within-reach OED defines it as 'a private, romantic rendezvous between lovers,' but adds that it derives from the Middle English, through French and Latin. Originally, as triste or trista, it meant 'an appointed meeting place in hunting.'

by Soulacroix - a very un-Sterkarm tryst.

Davy, being Scots, has another take on it. He's been interested in the research for my story Follow The Dogs, which tells of the Scottish drovers, and the great cattle markets held at Falkirk. These great meetings of drovers and cattle-dealers were known as 'trysts.'

So the word 'tryst' covers romance and, generally, meeting places.

The other two books,  A Sterkarm Handshake and A Sterkarm Kiss have double meanings which belie their friendly sound. (That's a Sterkarm handshake, at the top of this blog.) So what's the double-meaning of a Sterkarm tryst?

Well, the Border reivers were especially fond of laying ambushes. They would drive off cattle, and lay an ambush for the pursuers. They were guerilla fighters before the term was invented, making the most of suprise attacks and then fading away into their wild countryside. So, a Sterkarm Tryst is an ambush - a meeting place appointed by only one side.

But there's a hint of romance about the word, too, to bring in Andrea and Per. And a strong whiff of cattle, which there always would be around the Sterkarms.

Other people may not like it, but I'm happy with A Sterkarm Tryst. Finally.

I've been given a deadline for the books now. Open Road want the manuscript of Tryst in for copy-editing by mid-January. And any changes I want made to the other two books by mid-March. I can only say: Aaargh! Thank the lord I don't have any school visits or talks booked for December. I may cancel Christmas.

You can take a look at my other books here, on my website.

'Her Lines, My Lines' - a review

     My friend, Joan Lennon, has many talents - as you can discover

Author Joan Lennon

here, on her website.

     Having the sense to live in Scotland is one talent. Being quick and witty is another.
     I've admired her poems for a long time. Like Joan's photos, they often focus on a vivid detail, which might go overlooked by others. They make us look again, and see.

     Her Lines, My Lines has poems by Joan, and illustrations by Kyla Tomlinson. It came out of a six-month Writer-in-Residence post, based in Blairgowrie, funded by Creative Scotland. They do better by their writers in Scotland.
     There are so many poems in this book I would like to bring to your attention, but there are only 14 in the book, and I'd end up putting the whole lot into this post - which would not be right. But I can give you a taster...

She said, "They're not your boys - they're grown men."

...When I am rich soil

And quieted by time,

I will shift and stir,

restless still in rhythm

With your sleeplessness.

      One long sequence of poems is The Week It Snowed. Joan captures the changing light and colour of snow and the north:

in the evening,

periwinkle (prussian in the shadows)

fades through glaucous

into slate.

     She sees Lichen on a Gravestone.

...in ruckled puffs

like tangible sky breath -

slow fireworks...

     I am butchering these poems because I don't want to be guilty of giving away someone else's work for free - but they deserve to be read in full. Again and again a few words, a phrase, captures and fills my head with an image or sensation.

The book can be bought here - http://www.bookmarkblair.com/shop.php

Joan's other books for children and adults are worth checking out too. You can find them here.