Wolves picks up the day after Essex Dogs ends: it follows continuous, as they say in Hollywood. The battlefield is steaming, the Dogs are mostly alive if not exactly well, and if they think they’re going home, well, the Earl of Northampton has other ideas, by Saint Barnaby’s short and curlies. We are off to Calais, the mightily fortified town on the French coast, which the Dogs must help besiege. They will meet some new friends along the way. And some new enemies. Will they find out what has happened to The Captain? You’ll have to read it to find out.
I dug right into the original sources for the Siege of Calais and as far as possible let them guide me. So the ‘big’ story of the siege is drawn faithfully from the chronicles and administrative records of the age, which means we see the siege turn into a running battle between pirates, raiding parties and criminals shipped over from England to dodge justice. There’s a real-life pirate pub in Sangatte called the Tin Jar and a historically accurate desecration of a cathedral which I hope readers will not easily forget. Of course, the Dogs are in a mud-wrestling match with history and they bring some moves all of their own to the party. Part of the fun for readers who know their fourteenth century history is to see where the facts end and the fiction starts. As a crib, I’ve written a Historical Note which appears at the end of the story.
Yes, of course I have a favourite. But it changes. Much as with my children, the Dog I prefer is the one who is giving me least grief at any given moment. Although actually, even as I write that I think maybe the reverse is true: I tend to be fondest and most anguished for the Dogs when they’re in the most trouble. Often that means I’ve got a soft spot for Romford.
Well, at the most basic level, writing is about getting words on the page. I’ve written enough over the last twenty years that I no longer struggle to do that. But in terms of creative process I found that fiction was something I had to learn almost from scratch. Vanishingly few of my structural and architectural writing techniques from non-fiction ported successfully across the divide. It’s like the difference between Newtonian physics and quantum physics…. You’re describing the same universe but all the rules are at odds between the systems. physically the writing day feels like I’m using a totally different bit of my brain.
All that being said, however, I am currently working on a non-fiction biography and I have noticed that the experience of writing fiction has changed something about my approach to my nonfiction sentences. So, while I’m back in the groove of research - the footnotes, the analytical framework and the chapter structures - there’s something that has evolved in the poise and rhythm of the prose. I think it’s a big improvement. This might be the best I’ve ever written non-fiction. But it’s also possible I’m imagining all of this, and no one else will notice it.
I won’t put a word on the page until this biography is finished, as I don’t like to mix my projects. But I know when it’s set: after the Black Death, between Calais and the English south coast and Edward III’s royal court. I think I know what’s going to happen. I’ve told my editor what’s going to happen. And yeah, I’ll probably change my mind between now and next year. But that’s cool. It’s all part of the fun. I’m excited.
