Ask the Author: Lorna Howarth

“I'll be answering questions about my new novel, Sandpaper for the Soul, over the next few weeks – so fire away and ask me any question you like!” Lorna Howarth

Answered Questions (10)

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Lorna Howarth My most recent novel, Sandpaper for the Soul, is semi-autobiographical – so many of the events in the story actually happened – even those that could be deemed 'magic realism'. I have changed names and places for the sake of anonymity, and I have introduced many fictional elements to give the story nuance and dimension, but as writers have often stated, the best thing is to write what you know. Most fiction is based on fact, and most characters are the disguises of people we know.
Lorna Howarth Inspiration is a fleeting friend. Sometimes it arrives just as you're settling down for the night and a torrent of ideas means sleep is impossible. Get up, find your notepad and get jotting! Other times, a conversation with a friend sparks the imagination, or a snippet in the news... Even daydreaming and doodling have their place because the brain is disengaged and inspiration has room to manoeuvre. In fact, I'd say the best ideas come when you're not thinking about anything in particular!
Lorna Howarth I'm currently working on the second draft of a novel called The Wellspring, co-authored with my dear friend and long-time writing partner, William Blyghton. It falls into a new genre called 'cli-fi' (climate fiction) and looks at the metaphysical roots of our current evolutionary milieu.
Lorna Howarth Trust your intuition and enjoy the creative process. Try not to censor yourself, instead, write as if you are the only person who is going to read this book. Say what has to be said and write what you know – editing and revising can come later. In the first instance (and actually, always) you are writing for yourself and for the joy of it – for the revelations it brings and for the sheer delight of writing an exemplary sentence! If writing doesn't come with ease and joy but just feels like hard work and a bit of a grind, then perhaps it's not for you.
Lorna Howarth Without doubt, when a passage writes itself and you have no idea where it's going; or an unexpected character arrives, one not currently written into your plot, who changes the narrative in exciting ways – and you sit back and read what you've written and think, "Where on earth did that come from!" You really don't know; it's almost like divine intervention: these things had to be said, the character needed to reveal themselves... It's fabulously fascinating and makes one ask the question, "who's actually writing this book?"
Lorna Howarth Writer's block is a misnomer – it's merely a deep pause for your imagination to take stock. Don't worry about it – do something else. Tend the garden, walk to the beach, swim at high tide, lie in the long grass. When your imagination has had time to weave the threads of your narrative into a tapestry, then the urge to write will return. Trust that it will.
Lorna Howarth Though she longed for the romance of it, she could never walk barefooted in the moonlight. In case she trod on a slug.
Lorna Howarth Undoubtedly and unreservedly 'Thalassa' from Butterfly's Children by Annie March, a planet that could be Earth in the future, if our leaders had an ounce of sanity between them. Her descriptive passages of life there are so vivid, colourful and intricately woven that the book becomes filmic in my mind, like an Avatar movie. I long to live there...
Lorna Howarth My summer reading list is extensive: Violetta by Isabel Allende (one of my all time favourite writers); Hagitude by Sharon Blackie (because I'm beginning to feel my age!); The Herbalist by Benjamin Woolley (because I'm interested in how Nicholas Culpepper associates plants and astrology) and Featherhood by Charlie Gilmour (because we've become surrogate parents to a jackdaw...)
Lorna Howarth One weekend whilst visiting my parents – both of whom I trusted implicitly – they spoke at length about how they'd seen a UFO the previous night. My father described it like a galleon ship with three layers of windows; my mother, how it split in two as it came towards their house, then joined together again the other side – and then just disappeared. My Dad said he was willing the beings within the craft to beam him up: he felt so at peace and unthreatened by what he saw. I think that could make a great starting point for a story.

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