I always wanted to be Alistair Maclean – what happened?

I guess life happened, and in many ways I have no complaints about that. I‘ve always been a reader. When I was young I used to read ‘Just William’, under the bed covers, using my torch light. Then came ‘The Secret Seven’ and after that ‘The Famous Five’. I was 8 or 9 but already I was hooked.

I discovered Ian Fleming one Saturday morning in the public library. I was about 12. My friend nudged me in the ribs, “Hey, there’s sex in that one.” It was ‘You Only Live Twice’. We giggled together, him egging me on. I reached up, took down the book and self-consciously walked up to the front desk. The library lady, an ancient spinster, squinted down at me over her half moon reading glasses. I handed over the book, its glossy cover sticky with my sweaty paw marks. I could see her studying me, and I realized then with absolute certainty that she knew, and she was about to denounce me to the whole library. I could feel my face starting to flush. I wanted to run but I was rooted to the spot. Suddenly, she picked up her stamp and punched the checkout page. She looked down at me as if I was a moron. I realised I was standing looking up at her with my mouth open. I picked up the book and ran. That was my introduction to James Bond. I’ve been a fan ever since.

When I was 17, I went to naval college. One day the guy in the next bunk to me handed me a book by Alistair Maclean, it was ‘Where Eagles Dare’. To be honest, I’d seen ‘The Guns of Navarone’ movie years before and loved it, but never connected it to the writer. Now I devoured all of his books and that’s really where it started, as a dream, a wish. . . I wish I could write a book like that.

So I started scribbling the odd scene here and there. By the time I left college, and joined the Merchant Navy, I was a dedicated scribbler. But I could never get from being a scene writer to a full story writer. I always dreamed that I could take one of those story fragments and turn it into a full-blown novel.

I remember discovering John Le Carré. He didn’t write the fast-paced action packed thrillers I was used to. But he did write a story with intrigue, depth, deep mystery, and a certain elegance that mesmerized me. Before I knew it, I was in my mid-30s with a heap of disjointed scribblings, and a deep, nagging, fear inside me. Maybe I was never going to be a writer. I remember telling myself, you either start writing this big story of yours now, or give it up and walk away. You’re not a writer, you’re just a dreamer.

So I started, passion in my heart and fear in my gut. I was already a big fan of Robert Ludlum. I loved his big, sweeping stories, set on an international stage, where the action buzzed off the page. So I had the idea, what about a story with the scope and pace of Ludlum, and the intrigue and depth of character of Le Carré. I also had had my setting, Berlin, a city that fascinated me. This was my place, this was my genre, my melting pot for my story. I was nothing if not ambitious.

And that was it. I was on my way. I had a character (maybe a bit clichéd), washed-up, ex-drunk, ex-secret agent, gets the chance to redeem himself. So it began, I wrote it by the seat of my pants, it was all I knew. I’d get up at 6 am and write for a couple of hours before going to work. I used to travel a lot, so I always had a notebook with me, I’d scribble on planes, in restaurants and bars. I just pushed on with it. What came out was raw, but it was me. This was my version of ‘The Spy Who Came in from the Cold’, the good guys, the bad guys and the shady guys. It was steeped in the genre of my heroes but it was my story, all my own work. ‘The Song of the Nightingale’, the Berlin setting, I could hear the music, as the movie started to play (in my head). But what I actually could hear was the sound of the bulldozers, as they ploughed through the Berlin Wall, and the world declaring the Cold War was over. At the time they were saying the spy story was dead, thriller writers would have nothing left to write about, hmmm. . . But it did somewhat consign my big novel to the bin.

For one reason or another I didn’t write again for a number of years. Why, is a long story and perhaps for another forum. But that time did pass. I met a wonderful woman, who is now my wife, and who was also instrumental in getting me to write again. I was still working hard in my day job, but soon I was back to the 6am start. This time instead of a tiny room in a house in Basingstoke, it was an apartment in Singapore. I would drink green tea and let the ideas pour out of my head.

This time I had a new story, and yes you’re right, this was the big one. In the mid 90s I’d worked in Eastern Europe. I used to drink with a bunch of guys who were in the dodgy, semi-precious metal business. Some of the stories they could tell would curl your hair.  The pub we used to hang out in was also frequented by various members of the Russian Mafiya. There was one guy in particular. He always wore his overcoat around his shoulders like a cloak. He had a bodyguard the size of a house. I didn’t dare look at him directly. I used to sneak glances at him from behind my glass. He scared the living shit out of me. But at the same time my writer’s imagination was going wild. We were staying in a very old town, cobbled streets, dim, flickering street lamps. I had a vision of an old man. He comes out of the east with a secret. I just needed to find the rest of the story. It took me a while but I got there in the end. ‘The Doomsday Legacy’ was the result.

One thing I know now – I’m a writer and I always will be. First and foremost I want to write good stories. The kind that you can hunker down with, in your favourite chair, perhaps a glass of something nice to hand, and leave your everyday world behind. The kind of story that reaches out on the first page, grabs you by your shirt front and drags you into a dark and dangerous world, on a race of twists and turns, of threats and dodges. One that leaves you breathless and spent at the end, but thinking – ‘Wow, that was a good story.’ Maybe even the kind that one day a young aspiring writer will read and think – ‘I wish I could write a book like that.’
     
       ‘The Doomsday Legacy’ is published on Amazon. Check out my other books on my website (www.neilhowarth.com), or on Amazon.
     
       The Doomsday Legacy, Amazon Book Link is: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004KAA78Q