My freelance career as a journalist ground to a halt in the mid-80s, so I tried fiction, just to pay the mortgage. It was like being released from the chains of truth. And I got lucky. That first novel, Continent, was a modest worldwide success, so I could now tell lies for a living. Or, to put it another way, I could now tell the truth in code.
1. Tell us about your background and journey.
My life so far - I’m seventy-five - has not been the stuff of fiction. Happy childhood (in North-London), Happy Marriage (in the English Midlands), no illnesses, no addictions. . . Yawn. You wouldn’t want to read my life story. Nothing happens.
2. When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?
I’m not sure I ever wanted to be a writer. I just drifted into it because being mischievous and bizarre with words was my only gift. The puritanical, political side of me led to journalism first of all. I played it very straight. No bending the facts or exaggerating. But all the time the cavalier side of me was yearning to lie and invent.
My freelance career as a journalist ground to a halt in the mid-80s, so I tried fiction, just to pay the mortgage. It was like being released from the chains of truth. And I got lucky. That first novel, Continent, was a modest worldwide success, so I could now tell lies for a living. Or, to put it another way, I could now tell the truth in code.
3. What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
Hmm, no idea. I’m a subconscious rather than a self-conscious writer. If my working day is going well, it feels as if someone else -the imp of story-telling- is doing the typing. Critics say that my stylistic quirk is to write so rhythmically and percussively that any readers are likely to get a migraine. You have been warned. But language is musical. Why should I pretend otherwise?
4. Where does your inspiration lie?
We’re story-telling mammals and have been for thousands of years. Being able to imagine what might happen or reinvent what has already happened is a useful Darwinian adaptation. Any writer’s inspiration is mostly indebted to that ancient soup of legend and myth. Your own experience and your own interests are just the spice in the mix.
5. What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your books?
That, the writing life is an immensely lonely one. It’s not for the people who do not like their own company.
6. As a child, what did you want to do when you grew up?
As a young man, I wanted to play sax in a jazz band. Still do. Improvising music feels like the riskiest and exciting skill. However, I have no musical gifts at all, other than being a fan. In my twenties and thirties, I imagined myself as a professional cyclist, winning mountain stages in the Tour de France. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the legs. In my old age, looking back, I think I would have been happy as a gardener. When I’m writing, I’d rather be out in the sun, planting, pruning, or harvesting.
7. Do you have any tips for people who want to be an author?
Find the courage to write badly in your first draft - otherwise, you’ll never start - but then edit cruelly in your second, and third, and fourth... It’s like painting a door. Splash on the undercoat as roughly as you want, but then take great care with the finish.
Keep it to yourself, though. Your friends, your cousins, and your neighbors are not interested in your writing. There’s nothing worse than being cornered by someone who wants to tell you about their novel. No, writing is a solitary, self-gratifying act that’s best not discussed in public.
Jim Crace | Writer-Novelist
Interviewed By - Shubh Jani
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