Love in the

Afternoonand other delights

TITLE TYPE_ P Vincenzi.indd 1 12/12/2012 17:34

HP1684_LITA_otherdelights.indd 3 29/01/2013 10:20

Copyright © 2013 Penny Vincenzi

The right of Penny Vincenzi to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First published in Great Britain in 2013by HEADLINE REVIEW

An imprint of HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP

1

Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case

of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Every effort has been made to fulfil requirements with regard to reproducing copyright material. The author and publisher will be glad

to rectify any omissions at the earliest opportunity.

Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 0 7553 9956 7 (Hardback) ISBN 978 0 7553 9996 3 (Trade paperback)

Typeset in New Caledonia by Avon DataSet Ltd, Bidford-on-Avon, Warwickshire

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, St Ives plc

Headline’s policy is to use papers that are natural, renewable and recyclable products and made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The logging and

manufacturing processes are expected to conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.

HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP An Hachette UK Company

338 Euston Road London NW1 3BH

www.headline.co.uk www.hachette.co.uk

HP1684_LITA_otherdelights.indd 4 29/01/2013 10:20

173

A Day in My Life

A writer’s working day, it seems to me, is rather less interesting than watching paint dry. You sit down, you write; several hours later you stop writing and stand up again.

But then I am a writer, and of course there is a little more to it than that. My favourite reading matter in the entire week is ‘A Life in the Day Of ’ in the Sunday Times, when I sit entranced, discovering what time an actress gets up, as opposed to an architect or a political activist, and what they all have for breakfast, and whether they work better before or after lunch, and of course that’s the point: I am familiar with my day and not at all with theirs. So all right, I’ll try and make mine sound a little more interesting and tell you how it goes.

Actually there are three variations on my working day; the first, the most typical, is the least interesting.

I get up early; I’m very lucky in that the moment I wake up, my mind is clear and busy and I can, if under huge pressure, pull on a sweater and some trackie bums and go straight into my study and my story, having first made a mug of tea. But that is quite unusual; what I like to do is go for a walk, absolutely first thing, at about half past six or earlier, and yes, in the dark if it’s winter, taking the dog with me. I actually start working then; it’s when I do my plotting. I take my characters with me (along with the dog), mull over what they were all doing yesterday and then think very hard about what they might do today. It’s an invaluable time, and I have been known to hide in a bush rather than find myself involved in conversation with someone. It’s not that I’m antisocial; I love being involved in conversation but not on my

HP1684_LITA_otherdelights.indd 173 29/01/2013 10:20

174

plotting walk. Actually most of the other dog-walkers know of my strange behaviour and say, ‘I won’t disturb you, I know you’re working’ as I stomp along.

When I get back, I have a shower, change into something slightly less muddy and wet, load up the dishwasher and head for my study. The first task in there is clearing my desk from the day before; I leave it in total chaos when I finish in the evening, books open, paper piled high, files spilling all over the place. Sorting it out sorts my head out too. I look at my emails but try to ignore them unless they’re really urgent, and then open up the current book on my laptop.

For at least an hour, sometimes much longer, I edit what I wrote the day before: cut – or lengthen – conversations, carve up descriptive passages, flesh out characters (a very short sentence can often do this; learning that someone is terrified of spiders or loves Mozart can make an enormous difference to a reader’s perception of and sympathy with them). Then I start writing again. Sometimes this is a very fast process – I have been known to write four thousand words in a day – other times a slower one. Neither of which means very much: some chapters or passages require careful attention and much deliberation, others a fast-moving description of meetings or events. Sometimes, yes, I do find it hard to write at all, but the only answer to that in my experience is to carry on sitting there and struggling. You can’t run away from it; nothing ever got written by an absentee author. It’s the seat of the pants on the seat of the chair, as Bernard Shaw put it, and the longer the two stay together, the more gets done.

I usually take half an hour around eleven or twelve to have my breakfast. Odd timing, but it suits me; I like to be starving, and I’m not at seven or eight in the morning. By three or four, though, I’m written out, so then I have some lunch (I know, I know, even odder) and then go into admin. Writing emails, paying bills, sorting out my diary (it’s very complicated, what with professional, personal and family life) and typing up research. I do a lot of research and there’s always a queue of interviews with people on

HP1684_LITA_otherdelights.indd 174 29/01/2013 10:20

175

the recorder to be turned into notes. At seven I stop and listen to The Archers.

The major variation on this comes on the days I do the research. Because I don’t like using the internet – except to check things; I like it all to be original – I go to enormous lengths to find real people with experience of the world I’m writing about, and get them to talk. Usually they’re very happy to do this, which is lucky for me. For The Decision, for instance, I spent many hours with a divorce lawyer (the book is about a custody battle); for The Best of Times, which is about a motorway crash, with a traffic cop. People’s generosity with their time really is amazing. Or I’ll go to some disused racing track like Brooklands or long-abandoned army barracks for the atmosphere. Occasionally I go out of the country to research locations or to find people who lived in Paris during World War Two (I did!) or who were socialites in Milan in the 1960s. My next book, which is set in the cosmetic industry, has involved long sessions with perfumiers, PRs and advertising agencies. And so it goes on. It’s always fascinating and I love it.

So that’s another sort of day in my life.The third is when I’ve got a new book out and I’m hurtling

around giving interviews, attending parties and festivals, signing endless copies until my writing resembles unravelled knitting, and even popping over to Ireland or the States. But that only lasts for a very few weeks and is so untypical it’s hardly worth mentioning.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must tidy my desk and start the real work of the day . . .

HP1684_LITA_otherdelights.indd 175 29/01/2013 10:20