Writing is a solitary process. Often we’re drafting something that we really believe in, without any idea if anyone else will like it or even if it will ever be read. It’s validating to have publishers like Cinnamon helping to share work with readers and the feedback I had on my books was really exciting, allowing me to see that I had an audience for the kinds of stories I wanted to work on. The Glass House, being a fictional account of the life of pioneer nineteenth-century photographer, Julia Margaret Cameron, captured quite a lot of attention. Since its launch, in 2020, I’ve given dozens of talks to specialist societies for art, photography and literature. The book continues to sell well via museums, especially Dimbola House, Julia’s former home in Freshwater Bay on the isle of Wight.
Such attention kept me at the desk, focused on a Gothic novel that I had always wanted to write. I’ve long been a fan of the genre and the story I imagined was particularly creepy. It came to me in a dream and continued to give me nightmares in the process of writing, which took around nine months for first draft and then about the same amount of time to edit. I work full time and have teenage children, so I don’t generally start writing until around 9 or 10pm, writing into the early hours if the words are flowing. It helps that I don’t seem to need much sleep. The first draft of a novel is always quite basic for me, I like to plan and pace the action and the interplay between characters and then go back and add the padding and make the writing prettier. Sentences must have a certain lyricism and I will edit and edit a text until each sentence sounds exactly right. The only thing that stays broadly the same is the dialogue. I hear the characters speaking and the words are theirs, they usually come out right the first time.
I stuck with the period because I’ve long been fascinated by the nineteenth-century urge to discover, collect and sort the natural world. As much as the Victorians were eager to exploit industry and dominate globally, they were frightened of the new evolutionary science and what it meant for religion. And they were obsessed with trying to understand it. It’s a rich context for fiction and the opportunity to explore dark motivations for character. In the novel, Dr Lucius Everley is a ruthless scientist with a burning ambition to restore his father’s name – at any cost. He’s worked for years towards the discovery of ‘fish with feet’ and appears to be on the cusp of realising his dream. His young wife, Madeleine, a talented anatomical artist, is tasked with imagining his creatures in drawings. But she discovers unimaginable horrors behind his respectable work.
Madeleine is the core of the story, and in many ways it’s a coming of age tale. She’s little more than a child at the outset, when she marries a virtual stranger and the action sees her change through experiences of finding her sister, becoming a mother, bereavement, being charged with murder and ultimately discovering what she wants and needs from life when she is saved. I lived these experiences with her. Although it is fun to write unpleasant characters like Lucius and his horrible sister, they were always just extra characters in Madeleine’s story.
Detail is important in historical fiction, settings have to transport the reader fully or they simply don’t work. I’m very at home in the Victorian period and have studied its literature as a postgrad so the contexts and themes of the time are second nature when I’m writing. I spent some time researching surgery and medicine in the late 1800s, visiting institutions and museums, and re-read some of the seminal texts on evolutionary theory so I knew what I wanted to include. Once I sat down to draft the story, fiction absolutely took over. I drafted once for plot and character and then edited several times to add in detail and refine the settings.
When I entered The Small Museum for The Caledonia Novel Award, I certainly didn’t expect to win. It’s a really prestigious competition that has launched the careers of many well known authors and attracts high quality entries. But it won the 2023 prize and resulted in me being signed by literary agent, Charlotte Seymour. Joining the amazing list of writers at Johnson & Alcock’s agency is incredible, I’ve had to pinch myself a few times over the last year. Having the support and advice of someone so well respected in the industry has given me confidence in my work and real hope for my writing career. I knew from the first conversation that I wanted to work with Charlotte to bring the book into the world. We share a love of the Gothic genre, as well as a passion for telling women’s stories and we enjoy many of the same writers and texts.
Whilst Charlotte was working to find a publisher, I drafted the sequel and we secured a two-book deal with publishers Allison&Busby. The Small Museum is out in hardback and audiobook on May 16th this year.
It’s been a really enjoyable process working on the design, copy and publicity for the book, especially as I feel I’ve gained huge experience from my books with Leaf by Leaf. Although it’s a traditional debut it doesn’t feel that way and I’ve had fun with it rather than feeling overwhelmed.
I’m currently working on a third Gothic, set in Victorian London among the mud-lark community. To make sure the story stays with me all the time I write for at least thirty minutes every day, regardless of what else I have on the agenda.
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