Martin Murphy's Blog

"Did you hear those weird noises outside last night?"

I suppose story ideas for writers surface in many different ways, but with my first novella it was triggered by a friend's question. We were in the middle of a trip along the west coast of Australia, and he had been spooked by something moving outside our campervan during the night. There were a number of mundane explanations (an animal of some kind, perhaps) but somehow, for him, none of them seemed to explain what he had heard. I had some sympathy: out there on that isolated stretch of coastline, far removed from our familiar city-dwelling existence back home in England, it was easy to let your mind wander towards more sinister theories.

I allowed mine free rein, and later that morning possessed the germ of an idea for a story - one I finally got round to writing ten years later.

Back in 2004 we were halfway through our exploration of a beautiful country. But far away from the bright lights of the big cities, the stunning landscapes, natural features and wildlife, exists the plight of its indigenous people, the Aborigines. It is now difficult to regard much of their treatment, from the starting point of eighteenth century British colonisation, as anything other than shameful. Subdued and subjected to widespread displacement, sections of their land have since been annexed for use by mining corporations in the multi-billion dollar race to unearth Australia's natural resources.

On a much broader scale, in terms of damage to the environment at least, I saw a parallel with climate change. We are now reaping what we have sown in the damaging changes we are seeing as a result of man-made global warming, including flash-flooding events and violent, unpredictable weather. For my novella, I began to wonder: what if the subjugation of Australia's first people, combined with the subsequent desecration of their land, historically so precious to them, could itself have given rise to some darker aspect of nature? Indeed, what if something malevolent was born out of that toxic combination, ready to strike out, indiscriminately - a string of victims soon left in its wake?

A decade later, the protagonist in my story would find himself all alone in the remoteness of Western Australia, those tensions still bubbling away in the background. And I soon realized I did not want to be in his shoes - for, unlike my friend back in 2004, he would go on to discover what it was creeping around his campervan, outside, in the quiet dead of night.

The Carnarvon Creeper, available for download from Amazon
9 August 2014 (free on 9 and 10 August).

A key element in a number of dark fiction and horror novels is the reawakening of an ancient, evil entity. It occurs in my own novel, Soul Lifter. After it was completed, I got to thinking about the origins of this theme in storytelling, which principally took me back to the American author Howard Phillips Lovecraft, surely one of the most influential writers of fiction, and not just horror, of all time.

While it would be possible to write a dozen or more blogs on different aspects of his life and work, I wanted to look at the legacy of a man whose accomplishments would only be fully appreciated after his death in 1937. Before then, his stories were largely overlooked because they appeared in the cheap pulp magazines of the 1920s and 1930s. It was the frequent contact he shared with his circle of fellow writers, including younger authors Robert Bloch and August Darleth, that would see them preserve his short stories and novels and ensure their future wide availability.

This led his work to have a huge impact on modern popular culture, including everything from films to computer games, whilst serving to inspire some of the most accomplished writers' earliest forays into horror fiction. U.S. author Stephen King has spoken of how his own experience of reading a HP Lovecraft paperback all the way back in 1960 was pivotal in sparking his own career, while British writer Ramsey Campbell, in the introduction to Dark Companions, his collection of short stories published in 1982, admitted that the first book he wrote as an eleven-year-old boy was built upon a collection of tales by Lovecraft.

It is perhaps his creation of a fictional universe to which other authors would later contribute, enrich and be inspired to replicate, which would have the most pronounced and lasting impact. The Cthuluh Mythos provided him with a fertile breeding ground to create a wave of monstrous creations, including ancient, malevolent deities which once ruled the earth. More broadly, its science fiction element helped pave the way for the transformation of the Gothic genre into modern horror fiction.

On a personal level, Lovecraft wavered between agnostic and atheist during his lifetime as he built upon his own cosmic philosophy in his fiction. In particular, he railed against the position of man at the centre of the universe, and close to god, a position espoused in most religions and mythologies. The version that came to life in his books was instead characterised by chaos and indifference to humanity, perhaps best captured in the 1927 short story The Colour Out of Space. In it, a crashed meteorite wreaks havoc among a Massachusetts farming community, sucking life from its inhabitants and polluting the environment.

Perhaps here, we find the principal reason why his storytelling continues to resonate so powerfully. For it represented the unveiling of a new, dark imagining of the cosmos: one which, crucially, does not care one jot for humanity’s existence.

And isn’t that the most frightening prospect of all?

Sources: HP Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulhu and Other Weird Stories (London: Penguin Books, 1999); HP Lovecraft: The man who haunted horror fans, BBC News Magazine, http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-17...

By choosing Hull as the main setting for Soul Lifter, I aimed to include a number of real-life locations to attract local readers to the novel. But I also wanted to throw in a few fictional elements too. One of them was to create a local newspaper called the Hull Junction - or the Junk, as it is fondly known in the book.

I got a little sidetracked on the way, picking up on some of the more curious, yet genuine, newspaper names out there. Was there really once one in possession of the dubious title Bullfrog Miner? Indeed there was. It was derived from the dark green and yellow rock formations found in a gold mine in the United States' Nye County, Nevada, which were also responsible for the naming of the nearby Bullfrog Hills and Bullfrog town. Inspired, I was soon scouring the internet for more, and could not resist putting together my worldwide top ten. In the end I had trouble narrowing the list down (and am not ashamed to admit that they all put the Hull Junction firmly in the shade), but here are the rest:

Northern Pen: There is somehow real authority attached to the name of this Canadian publication that covers the Great Northern Peninsula and Southern Labrador coast. Peninsula is sometimes shortened to “Pen”, hence the name.

Banbury Cake: It doesn’t get much sweeter than this. This free Oxfordshire newspaper takes its name from the flat pastry cakes served up in the surrounding area.

Offally Independent: A paper that delivers all the latest news, sport and all that jazz to Tullamore, Ireland and the surrounding area.

The Packet: Falmouth publication that takes its name from the mail-carrying packet ships that operated out of the Cornwall town's harbour between 1688 to 1850.

Barrier Daily Truth: Like the Bullfrog Miner, this title is linked to a mining town - in this case Broken Hill, Australia.

Mainichi Daily: Memorable because “Mainichi” in Japanese means “every day, or daily”, giving it the title Daily Daily.

StarPheonix: A Canadian publication born out of the merger between the Saskatoon Daily Star and Saskatoon Pheonix in 1928.

Burlington Hawkeye: I cannot imagine much escapes the attention of reporters working on the newsdesk of this U.S. Iowa-based daily newspaper.

Cleveland Plain Dealer: Reaches out to readers in Cleveland, Ohio, U.S. and holds the largest circulation of any Ohio newspaper.

For many more, take a look at these BBC and Guardian sources.

Nick Quantrill has carved out a key position in Hull's growing body of writers, most noticeably through penning his Joe Geraghty crime fiction trilogy of Broken Dreams, The Late Greats and The Crooked Beat. He took some time out from his latest book to offer me some insight into his career, and the changes afoot in the city that has inspired most of his work.

MM: Back in 2006 when you were first starting out, you mentioned feeling isolated as a writer in Hull. How does its writing community of 2014 compare?

NQ: It’s very different. In 2006 it felt like very little was happening. It’s difficult to say if that was the reality of the situation or if it was my perception as someone starting out writing crime novels. The writing community today certainly feels confident in its own skin. Maybe a lot of that is down to the impact of social media, but there’s been an increase in the provision of literature events in the city, so there’s an outlet there to chat, discuss and drink...

MM: How well do you think Hull lends itself as a setting for crime fiction?

NQ:I think it’s fantastic. When I started my first novel, I never thought about setting it anywhere else. It seemed bizarre to me that so little had been written about it, especially in a contemporary sense. It has both an urban and rural landscape and a fascinating industrial history that you can bend to crime fiction. Oddly, I think its isolation at the end of the motorway is a real strength for writers. You only really pass through if you have a reason to visit, so it becomes a sort of secret place, and I think readers enjoy exploring places they don’t necessarily know.
You only really pass through if you have reason to visit, so it becomes a sort of secret place

MM: Thinking of contemporary authors who have written about the city, who in your eyes has managed to convey its key characteristics?

NQ: The catalogue of Hull writing seems to be expanding almost every week, but a couple of writers stand out for me. In terms of crime writing, David Mark’s DS McAvoy is rightly piling up the sales. David really brings the city to life in his books. It just feels right. Russ Litten’s “Scream if you want to go faster”, set in the aftermath of the 2007 floods and culminating at Hull Fair, captures the character of the city through a revolving cast of characters. When people want to know what life was like in Hull in the early part of the 21st century, this is the book they should turn to.
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MM: Hull has long been seen as rundown and scarred by industrial decline. But that’s starting to change. With the long-awaited Siemens Humber wind turbine project given the go ahead, and city of culture status set for 2017, there is an increasing amount of optimism in the air. How has this impacted on your writing?

NQ: I think of Hull as being a character in the Geraghty novels, so I hope the change comes through on the page. I suppose all places are constantly in a state of flux, but it feels like the recent changes in Hull are very pronounced. The first Geraghty novel, “Broken Dreams”, was essentially about the echoes of the death of the fishing industry in the city, and I hope that’s reflected in the characters. By the time the trilogy closes with “The Crooked Beat”, I’m looking at the docks and the renewed hope the new industry brings. You’ll always have winners and losers in any situation, especially when large amounts of money are at stake, so for me it’s about finding the grey in the situations.

MM: What effect do you believe city of culture status will have, and could it pave the way for more writing talent to emerge?

NQ: I’m hoping City of Culture will really thrust Hull forward in a way we haven’t seen before. They key for me is that it’s led by Hull people and projects. We don’t want to simply hire people in and then see them disappear a week later. It has to reach out to and be enjoyed by every resident of the city. I’m sure it’ll lead to more writing talent emerging, as well as new artists in all manner of different fields. It’s certainly a once in a lifetime opportunity to get projects off the ground and do what you want to do.

MM: You’ve talked about moving away from Hull in future projects. What challenges has this presented given how the Joe Geraghty novels were so loyal to the city?

NQ: You’re right. Geraghty is very much rooted in the city, so I’m not sure he’d function very well outside of its boundaries. The novel I’m working on features different lead characters and they have different relationships with the city, so they give me more options in the future. That said, I thought the novel I’m on with would see sections of it set outside of Hull, but I can’t escape it. The heart of the novel belongs to the city. It seems I’ve still got plenty to say about the place…

The murderous antagonist in my horror novel, Soul Lifter, is obsessed with the souls of his victims. But just how far back does our fascination with this essence of humanity stretch - and what evidence is there for its existence?

A belief in the soul as something separate to the body had its origins in pre-history before it took a central role in religion and philosophy. Indeed, many cultures have attributed its presence in all living things, and not just human beings, in the form of animism.

Mainstream scientific investigation into the soul has been limited, with a tendency to understand the concept as a product of the mind and therefore inseparable from neuroscience. That's not to say there have not been radical attempts to uncover it. Back in 1907, U.S. physician Dr. Duncan MacDougall aimed to go one step further. In an attempt to prove it held measurable mass, he conducted a series of experiments by positioning a number of terminally ill patients on a bed fitted with finely balanced scales, and then monitoring them through to death. He concluded that there was a notable drop in their weight on each occasion. The popularised figure of 21 grams emerged based on the results taken from his first subject. Although his work was later considered to be flawed, the legacy of MacDougall's experiments lives on in the 2003 film, which takes its name from this measurement.

The popularised figure of 21 grams emerged based on the results taken from his first subject
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Biocentrism proposes a "multiverse"
Fast forward to the 21st century and the soul finds its way back onto the agenda by way of Dr. Robert Lanza’s Biocentrism. A branch of science that argues for the existence of an infinite number of universes (within which, anything that can happen, will) it proposes that death does not exist in any real sense. The self awareness “energy” representative of the soul persists elsewhere in this vision of a “multiverse".

This raises the question of whether a soul can travel someplace else, before writers of science fiction can take a further leap to ponder whether it can be removed - or even consumed. But for now, the frightening prospect of a soul eating entity pervades a number of cultures as a folklore figure, found among African peoples, including the Hausa from Nigeria and Niger, and the tribes of the Mount Hagen area of Papua New Guinea.

In Soul Lifter, I wrote about the fictional Asanti, an isolated African tribe. I drew on the customs and beliefs of several secluded groups in the course of doing so, in particular the Babongo from Gabon, West Africa.

They embrace the Bwiti belief system - a religious discipline involving tribal rituals to promote spiritual growth. Key to such ceremonies is the use of ibogaine, a psychoactive substance taken from the rainforest shrub Tabernanthe iboga. Large enough doses of the drug can lead to bouts of anxiety, visions, hallucinations and intense episodes of introspection. The Babongo cultivate and consume the bark of the plant in a rite of passage that leads to adulthood, or "rebirth". It gained notoriety with Bruce Parry's decision to undergo the induction - resulting in a gut-wrenching ordeal for the presenter in the BBC 2 series, Tribe. Yet the show not only shed light on the serious risks involved in its use, but also the accompanying potential to engender positive and profound change in an individual.

Parry was clearly moved by his experience and the reflective thought the drug induces. The idea I had for Soul Lifter was to turn this outcome on its head, and provide a scenario where the urge to turn over and dwell in the past was replaced with the gift of powerful foresight, created by a ceremony that produces a number of unexpected consequences. It provides two of the main characters with new abilities, which they choose to employ in very different ways.

In reality, it is the inward-looking properties of the hallucinogen which have caught the attention of the wider world and how they could be employed in medicine, and more specifically, drug rehabilitation. Back in 1962, Howard Lotsof, an American heroin addict, took it to get high, but found, when its psychoactive effects had faded, that he no longer had the urge to take heroin. Lotsof became active in promoting Ibogaine for the purposes of treating addiction, and although evidence of successful treatments in clinical trials can be found, moves to make the drug more widely available appear to have been hamstrung by the pharmaceutical companies’ view that such a venture would not be profitable.

Meanwhile, ibogaine has been used for centuries in Africa and demonstrates what can still be learnt from the practices of even the most remote tribes.

It's a question that still exercises the minds of scientists to this day. But why did the Neanderthals become extinct?

In Soul Lifter, my supernatural horror novel, an eccentric fictional professor puts forward his own controversial theory. Meanwhile, the real reasons for their disappearance continue to be uncovered.

It is thought Homo sapiens and Neanderthals shared a common ancestor that probably lived in Africa 400,000 years ago. Ancestors of the Neanderthals moved to Europe and Asia, while the modern-human strand remained in Africa. Recent research suggests humans entered Europe about 45,000 years ago - yet just five thousand years later the Neanderthals had been largely wiped out. So what had happened?

Explanations range from violent conflict between the two species through to a natural disaster, while attention is now turning to how successfully each species adapted to their environment. Research carried out by the University of Oxford and the Natural History Museum, London, supports the theory that modern humans were at a distinct cerebral advantage here. The upshot appears to be that they were able to devote more time and energy to social networking, which saw them out-compete the Neanderthals in the rush for resources amid the onset of another ice age.

As consensus on this theory builds, some intriguing lessons from our past are also being discovered. A recent article in Nature shed more light on the level of interbreeding that occurred between the two species. Although it is believed to have occurred on a small scale, the advantages of some inherited Neanderthal genes were so advantageous that they multiplied and remain with modern humans today, especially in our ability to adapt to cold climates.

Conversely, according to the findings of Harvard Medical School Geneticists published in Nature, we may also be able to lay blame for our susceptibility to diseases such as type 2 diabetes and Crohn's disease at the door of the Neanderthals.

Whatever the precise reasons for the demise of our distant cousins may be, their legacy remains very much alive.Soul LifterMartin Murphy