Anthony Balkwill's Blog: On Writing - Posts Tagged "a-managed-retreat"
Finishing "A Managed Retreat"
"A Managed Retreat" is the 4th novel I've published (or rather am about to publish), but it's the 5th I've written. Something about it demanded that it should push in front of another book, which is still waiting patiently in the background, complete except for a few final edits.
It's strange that "A Managed Retreat" should be so pushy, since it's main character is a very quiet, retiring sort of man, living an unexceptional life on the East Yorkshire coast, alone since his wife dies, with dull interests and a few, dull acquaintances. The book is an opportunity to think about life from the perspective of someone who has realised that there are fewer days ahead than there are behind. How do you deal with that knowledge? What do you do with all the memories that you have stored?
But the book was not just a chance for me to explore such existential questions - it was also an opportunity to revisit the places where my family spent summer holidays when I was a boy: Bridlington, Whitby, Hornsea, a tiny village called Atwick, all on the Yorkshire coast, where the seas are vast and grey and cold - even in July; where the beaches are enormous when the tide is out, but disappear completely when it's in, battering at the cliff's feet; and where the boulder clay cliffs are crumbling into the waves.
The landscape, despite its grandeur, is characterised by impermanence. Great chunks of cliff periodically tumble onto the beach, and the buildings on the cliff top, chalets, cottages, and caravans, are in constant danger. It seemed to me to be an appropriate setting for a diminishing life.
So, the book pushed its way ahead of the queue for publication, uncharacteristically forceful, and "The Book of Grum" (a novel about AI, tech, and sex robots) has had to wait. "A Managed Retreat" should be out sometime this summer. Anthony Balkwill
It's strange that "A Managed Retreat" should be so pushy, since it's main character is a very quiet, retiring sort of man, living an unexceptional life on the East Yorkshire coast, alone since his wife dies, with dull interests and a few, dull acquaintances. The book is an opportunity to think about life from the perspective of someone who has realised that there are fewer days ahead than there are behind. How do you deal with that knowledge? What do you do with all the memories that you have stored?
But the book was not just a chance for me to explore such existential questions - it was also an opportunity to revisit the places where my family spent summer holidays when I was a boy: Bridlington, Whitby, Hornsea, a tiny village called Atwick, all on the Yorkshire coast, where the seas are vast and grey and cold - even in July; where the beaches are enormous when the tide is out, but disappear completely when it's in, battering at the cliff's feet; and where the boulder clay cliffs are crumbling into the waves.
The landscape, despite its grandeur, is characterised by impermanence. Great chunks of cliff periodically tumble onto the beach, and the buildings on the cliff top, chalets, cottages, and caravans, are in constant danger. It seemed to me to be an appropriate setting for a diminishing life.
So, the book pushed its way ahead of the queue for publication, uncharacteristically forceful, and "The Book of Grum" (a novel about AI, tech, and sex robots) has had to wait. "A Managed Retreat" should be out sometime this summer. Anthony Balkwill
