Back when I was a very little boy, I dreamt of being a farmer. Don’t ask me why. Since then, I’ve done a few different jobs – journalist, fruit picker, barman, gardener, teacher…
Today, though, I think I would absolutely love to be the person pressing the button on this job:
It’s strange because I’m a creative kind of guy in many ways. On the other hand, there’s something about explosions and destruction that appeals to my inner chaos demon…
That’s one of the beauties of being an author though. You can get all sorts of vicarious thrills – like blowing up buildings – by putting your characters into situations that you know (or pray) will never happen to you.
With Findo Gask my protagonist is a thief. His life is not easy but he carries out all sorts of daring exploits for which I’d personally never have the nerve – using a bungee jump for a jewellery heist, clinging beneath a moving armoured truck, stealing the proceeds of a major drugs deal.
For Pagan’s Sphinx, I sent my hero into the wilds of the Sahara to look for an ancient statue – and set a gang of armed thieves on his trail.
In my other books, characters have had to cope with everything from serial killers to school bullies. I’ve even written about a black female police officer who’s moved from a multicultural urban upbringing to a senior post in a predominantly white part of rural England.
Hopefully my characters are convincing in their actions and mannerisms!
But that’s the wonderful part of writing stories – and one of the reasons I don’t think I could ever stop – the enormous fun you can have living someone else’s life. What else should I try?
PS I love the name of the company blowing up the chimney. Brown And Mason… BAM!