The story
I’m working on needs a character removed for a good while. Death is not
possible, as I need an eventual re-union. So I introduced a nasty planting of stolen goods,
and that was that. She was off to her temporary destination.
Idly, I’d
imagined a bit of “transportation” - she’s a sturdy, determined individual –
but then came a big awkward fact.
During
the time of my novel, transportation was no longer happening. The colonies were
no longer willing to accept Britain’s
inconvenient criminals. Please note that I don’t take the subject of transportation lightly – just the plotting pieces.
So I was
stuck. What can happen to my character? I don’t want to keep that part of the
plot “floating” any longer, yet I couldn’t picture what would happen. She wouldn’t
be stowed in a hulk. I didn’t see her, somehow, in the solitary of
a Panopticon prison like Millbank. I needed to be able to imagine these small
scenes and make them part of the story building.
So today
I visited Ripon’s Liberty
Prison Museum - above - ,
and feel she’s in for much oakum-picking. She will have the hard task of
unravelling old, tarry rope into “corkscrews”, then rolling the rope across her
thighs until it unravels, then pulling it against the iron hook at her waist
until it becomes soft enough to be used to caulk the seams and boards of wooden
sailing ships.
The
ex-policeman at the desk also clarified the local sentencing process so I can
now sort out a couple of swift scenes, and i have the name of someone to go to if I need to check more details. Today's visit helped me un-knot my own knotty
problem, although I’ll still keep checking on the facts.
Writers
often go to much greater lengths to stand fiction on fact, to create a
realistic world.
For example, I’ve just read Lindsay Davis’s first two novels about
Falco’s adopted daughter, Flavia Albia, complete with maps of ancient Rome so that readers and
historians can trace the locations. Or
were the maps as much for the writer herself? Mapping a location – real or
imaginary - is a useful writing technique.
Then tonight
I’ll be finishing Christopher Fowler’s “A Full Dark House”, which is a quirky, many-bodied
crime thriller, with Bryant and May, detectives with the Peculiar Crimes Unit. The novel's strength, so far, has been the darkly powerful view of the London of the Blitz, especially the Palace
Theatre, and a host of other details.
Bryant, observing St Paul's ruined dome and the fiery sky beyond, mentions there's another model of St Paul's elsewhere in London. Do you know where it is? I’m delighted - so far - to find this book is the start of a long series. I feel as if this is a man who is having fun with his research.
I know there are
many more novels that offer places from the past to writers and to readers. I
wonder what setting you’ve enjoyed writing? Or what novels have offered you the
best-realised settings?
Penny
Dolan
Congratulations on unravelling that knotty problem, Penny - hope the Tome leaps forward now.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a really useful pace to have found, Penny. That oakum sounds very nasty...
ReplyDeleteThanks. The "where did she go?" was one of those small facts that I needed to get sorted. As has been said before on History Girls, it's important to go to places as well as look at screens and pages. How else does one sense how cold the air feels in a cell, even on a spring day, and things like that? I'd already visited Dublin's Kilmainham Gaol - an awful place - but needed a glimpse of more local justice.
ReplyDeleteThe scene is way too real - brrr!
ReplyDeleteLovely post Penny!
ReplyDeleteTransportation was also a one way ticket - return was NOT an option. One of my ancestors was transported aged 22. I can't imagine what it was like for her.
ReplyDelete