A Long Road: How it all came about.
Bit of a long read too, but I hope it’s interesting)
This was originally published on my email newsletter (which no longer exists) some time ago. I’ve updated this where new information makes a significant difference, but I’ve aimed to preserve dated references where they underline what it meant to me at the time.
"It's been a long road/Gettin' from there to here/It's been a long time/But my time is finally near"
Once upon a time, when this was a newsletter post, I made this a quiz—and no one won the prize! But since I gave the answer away there, I think I’ll just tell you now: it’s the theme song from Star Trek: Enterprise. It seems to be few people’s favourite incarnation of Star Trek, but I have a sneaking fondness for it, and the first two series in particular displayed many of the most admirable characteristics of the canon.
However, I must confess that I never really cared for the song, but those lines did seem to express what I felt when Three Kinds of North finally made it in the wild. It has indeed been a long road.
Originally I wrote one lengthy novel (c140,000 words), which I called (you guessed) The Shattered Moon. I wrote the final line of the first complete draft on 10th December 2017. Yes, I made a note. I even made a note of what I was listening to at the time (Close to the Edge).
Even then it had been a long time in the making. It was already more than twenty years, possibly nearer thirty, since I wrote what would become the opening chapter of Three Kinds of North. I had no idea then that it would take so long to come to fruition.
A lot has happened since. You can get an idea of the overall shape of things from the 'Long Version' bio on here. As I say there:
'All through these years I still had stories bubbling away in my mind, and would write in whatever spare time I could find.'
But how did it all begin?
If you're looking for answers to the perennial question, "Where do you get your ideas from?", prepare to be disappointed. It's a question every author gets, and I suspect most dread. Like many others, I have no simple answer. However, I do have some thoughts about things in my life, and in my reading, which have probably ended up in the mix somewhere.
I guess my own University years had something to do with the idea of the Dawnsingers' College. Ironically, I spent those years at an all-male college (St John's, Cambridge); in that sense, at least, the antithesis of the Dawnsingers' College. Feel free to suggest that the idea of populating a similar environment with females began as wish-fulfilment!
(To be clear, it was all-male then, as were the majority of colleges; it’s different now, and St John’s even has a female Master.)
"It's been a long road/Gettin' from there to here/It's been a long time/But my time is finally near"
Once upon a time, when this was a newsletter post, I made this a quiz—and no one won the prize! But since I gave the answer away there, I think I’ll just tell you now: it’s the theme song from Star Trek: Enterprise. It seems to be few people’s favourite incarnation of Star Trek, but I have a sneaking fondness for it, and the first two series in particular displayed many of the most admirable characteristics of the canon.
However, I must confess that I never really cared for the song, but those lines did seem to express what I felt when Three Kinds of North finally made it in the wild. It has indeed been a long road.
Originally I wrote one lengthy novel (c140,000 words), which I called (you guessed) The Shattered Moon. I wrote the final line of the first complete draft on 10th December 2017. Yes, I made a note. I even made a note of what I was listening to at the time (Close to the Edge).
Even then it had been a long time in the making. It was already more than twenty years, possibly nearer thirty, since I wrote what would become the opening chapter of Three Kinds of North. I had no idea then that it would take so long to come to fruition.
A lot has happened since. You can get an idea of the overall shape of things from the 'Long Version' bio on here. As I say there:
'All through these years I still had stories bubbling away in my mind, and would write in whatever spare time I could find.'
But how did it all begin?
If you're looking for answers to the perennial question, "Where do you get your ideas from?", prepare to be disappointed. It's a question every author gets, and I suspect most dread. Like many others, I have no simple answer. However, I do have some thoughts about things in my life, and in my reading, which have probably ended up in the mix somewhere.
I guess my own University years had something to do with the idea of the Dawnsingers' College. Ironically, I spent those years at an all-male college (St John's, Cambridge); in that sense, at least, the antithesis of the Dawnsingers' College. Feel free to suggest that the idea of populating a similar environment with females began as wish-fulfilment!
(To be clear, it was all-male then, as were the majority of colleges; it’s different now, and St John’s even has a female Master.)
The Dawnsingers' College doesn't look much like this… but here's a secret. The plan of the College which I roughed out to help in writing was based on the layout of St John's.
My relationship with my College, like Jerya's with hers, was ambiguous. Sometimes I felt like I'd found my ideal place; sometimes I felt I hardly fit in at all. Short of trying to psychoanalyse myself, I can't say a lot more. But one thought just popped into my head: I and my friends did like seeking out pubs which weren't totally student-dominated. Perhaps there's a trace of that in Jerya's forays to the tavern to visit Rodal. Also, memories of intense alcohol-enhanced sessions of 'putting the world to rights' in someone's room are surely reflected in one particular chapter.
Another then there's reading. I devoured books of all genres from an early age, but was hooked on science fiction since I found the likes of Andre Norton, James Blish, and Patrick Moore in the local Children's Library. I rapidly graduated to adult titles, at a time when the 'big three' were Asimov, Clarke, and Heinlein.
I soon found that I was particularly fascinated by stories that explored the ways people can live (and live together) rather than ones that were tech-heavy; still less those that were really just war/horror stories with a different backdrop. Of course, much of what I was reading then looks pretty dubious through 21st-century eyes. There are lots of big ideas in Asimov's original Foundation trilogy, but where are all the women? Similarly, I was riveted by Heinlein's The Moon is a Harsh Mistress and Stranger in a Strange Land, but re-reading TMIAHM a few years ago was quite a shock. How did I not see…?
And then I picked up a book that (I suspect) permanently rearranged my head. It certainly shook up the way I thought about science fiction, and about writing in general, and gave me a favourite author for life. That book was The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K Le Guin, published in 1969. I’ve said much more about this and some of my other favourite books on Substack, so I'll be brief here.
LHOD nailed, once and for all, the myth that SF doesn't do character; it focused on sociological rather than technological themes; and the ice-cap trek with its wonderful descriptions of landscape was guaranteed to resonate with me. Above all it, famously, plays with gender roles through the Gethenian people, who are both asexual and genderless, except in their intervals of kemmer. Again, you could psychoanalyse me on this if you want; all I can say is that I was fascinated.
Somewhere around this time, I read two other books which explored, in very different ways, the idea of a society (in one case an entire world) composed entirely of women: Charlotte Perkins Gilman's 'Herland' and Poul Anderson's 'Virgin Planet'. Though much older (1915 vs 1959) I'd suggest 'Herland' stands the test of time rather better. You can judge Virgin Planet by the unquestioned assumption that a man—just an average, random, man—would automatically be "the biggest, strongest, human on the planet", even though some of that planet's women are trained hunters or fighters cloned from a specially selected ancestor. I'm happy to say I could see the fallacy even as a young (well, late teens) reader close on 50 years ago.
I took Virgin Planet’s basic premise—lone male castaway on all-female world—for one of my early attempts at a novel. Whatever else was good or bad about it, I made sure not to fall into the 'biggest, strongest' trap. There are two people in the world who've read it, and it's likely to stay that way.
I'm sure there are many more things—in life, in books, on film and on TV—that have fed into the world of The Shattered Moon. For now, just one more note.
If you've read Three Kinds of North, or at least the first few chapters, you could be forgiven for wondering if you're actually reading a fantasy novel. Well, here's the thing: when I started writing it, I wasn't sure whether or not I was writing one. Obviously, I came to a decision eventually, but I've kept that ambiguity—I might prefer to say 'openness'—unresolved until well on into the book. The tension between what people believe, and what's actually true, is central to the story. I wish I could say I planned it that way all along.
My relationship with my College, like Jerya's with hers, was ambiguous. Sometimes I felt like I'd found my ideal place; sometimes I felt I hardly fit in at all. Short of trying to psychoanalyse myself, I can't say a lot more. But one thought just popped into my head: I and my friends did like seeking out pubs which weren't totally student-dominated. Perhaps there's a trace of that in Jerya's forays to the tavern to visit Rodal. Also, memories of intense alcohol-enhanced sessions of 'putting the world to rights' in someone's room are surely reflected in one particular chapter.
Another then there's reading. I devoured books of all genres from an early age, but was hooked on science fiction since I found the likes of Andre Norton, James Blish, and Patrick Moore in the local Children's Library. I rapidly graduated to adult titles, at a time when the 'big three' were Asimov, Clarke, and Heinlein.
I soon found that I was particularly fascinated by stories that explored the ways people can live (and live together) rather than ones that were tech-heavy; still less those that were really just war/horror stories with a different backdrop. Of course, much of what I was reading then looks pretty dubious through 21st-century eyes. There are lots of big ideas in Asimov's original Foundation trilogy, but where are all the women? Similarly, I was riveted by Heinlein's The Moon is a Harsh Mistress and Stranger in a Strange Land, but re-reading TMIAHM a few years ago was quite a shock. How did I not see…?
And then I picked up a book that (I suspect) permanently rearranged my head. It certainly shook up the way I thought about science fiction, and about writing in general, and gave me a favourite author for life. That book was The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K Le Guin, published in 1969. I’ve said much more about this and some of my other favourite books on Substack, so I'll be brief here.
LHOD nailed, once and for all, the myth that SF doesn't do character; it focused on sociological rather than technological themes; and the ice-cap trek with its wonderful descriptions of landscape was guaranteed to resonate with me. Above all it, famously, plays with gender roles through the Gethenian people, who are both asexual and genderless, except in their intervals of kemmer. Again, you could psychoanalyse me on this if you want; all I can say is that I was fascinated.
Somewhere around this time, I read two other books which explored, in very different ways, the idea of a society (in one case an entire world) composed entirely of women: Charlotte Perkins Gilman's 'Herland' and Poul Anderson's 'Virgin Planet'. Though much older (1915 vs 1959) I'd suggest 'Herland' stands the test of time rather better. You can judge Virgin Planet by the unquestioned assumption that a man—just an average, random, man—would automatically be "the biggest, strongest, human on the planet", even though some of that planet's women are trained hunters or fighters cloned from a specially selected ancestor. I'm happy to say I could see the fallacy even as a young (well, late teens) reader close on 50 years ago.
I took Virgin Planet’s basic premise—lone male castaway on all-female world—for one of my early attempts at a novel. Whatever else was good or bad about it, I made sure not to fall into the 'biggest, strongest' trap. There are two people in the world who've read it, and it's likely to stay that way.
I'm sure there are many more things—in life, in books, on film and on TV—that have fed into the world of The Shattered Moon. For now, just one more note.
If you've read Three Kinds of North, or at least the first few chapters, you could be forgiven for wondering if you're actually reading a fantasy novel. Well, here's the thing: when I started writing it, I wasn't sure whether or not I was writing one. Obviously, I came to a decision eventually, but I've kept that ambiguity—I might prefer to say 'openness'—unresolved until well on into the book. The tension between what people believe, and what's actually true, is central to the story. I wish I could say I planned it that way all along.
The focus now turn to what's happened in the years since 10/12/17.
Since then health issues (outlined in the website bio), and a general awareness of mortality, made me think I really ought to give fiction a higher priority before it was too late. The decision to split The Shattered Moon into two books was one part of it. Naturally I gave closest attention to the first book, renamed Three Kinds of North, and began the process of submitting to literary agents in July 2020. I had some encouraging responses, notably from the renowned Julie Crisp, but no one loved it quite enough to take it on.
Over the years I'd accumulated sketches, fragments, and rough drafts of various other projects too; ones which got past the 'rough' stage include a portal fantasy and a contemporary Young Adult novel. I've also got a couple of 'harder' science fiction books in the pile, and I'm hoping to give one of those another polish, maybe try it with a few agents—but my No. 1 priority is honing Book Two of The Shattered Moon.
I also tried to turn my hand to short stories, all SF or occasionally fantasy. Curiously, though I was comfortable with tight word-limits in my non-fiction career (1800 words for one of my long-term regular outlets), my 'short' stories always tended to spread. I rarely managed anything under 5000 words, which is the upper limit for a lot of markets. Again, I had a fair few 'we like it, but not quite enough' responses, but never got beyond that. A couple of these are now free to read on the website.
In 2022 I decided it was time to self-publish, and if I was going to do it I was going to do it properly. The real push to get Three Kinds of North into shape and into the big wide world has happened in the last few months, but I was gradually gathering information and resources well before then. I attended a few relevant sessions at the Jericho Writers Conference in York in 2019, and have benefited from their tutorials, discussions, and other online resources, ever since. I've also been following David Gaughran and Mark Dawson for some time.
Just to give an idea of what's been involved, here are the websites and apps I originally used to assemble the jigsaw:
Atticus (for book formatting; particularly important if you want to offer a print edition);
Ingram Spark (distribution, both print and digital);
StoryOrigin (where readers landed to sign up to my newsletter and collect a free story);
MailerLite (creation and distribution of said newsletter);
Nielsen (to register ISBNs, essential if publishing a print edition);
Wix (creation of the author website);
Facebook/Meta Business Suite (for the FB Page and creating/disseminating ads);
Canva (so far, purely to add text effects to my FB ads).
And finally, BookBrush (handy way to create the 3D image of the book cover on an iPad, and some other cool stuff).
Quite a few of these have since fallen by the wayside; the newsletter has gone, replaced by Substack, which removes all need for StoryOrigin and MailerLite. I recently switched from Wix to Weebly, mainly on the grounds that I can get everything I need from a website for less than half the price. I got virtually nil returns from the hassle and cost of Facebook advertising, and I’ve now quit Facebook entirely, for reasons I needn’t go into here. (However, if the word 'enshittification' popped into your head, you’re not wrong. That’s a significant part of it.)
Every one of those required some sort of learning curve, some steeper than others. I had a couple of false starts before I got myself properly sorted with Ingram Spark, and the FB ad creation process was pretty involved too (and, for me, not worth it; see above). At the other end, Canva is a doddle to use and even the free version has a lot of possibilities. I know some authors have used it to create their book covers. However, I’ve not used it since the original flurry of activity and not sure I will be doing so again. To create my book covers I used Lightroom and Photoshop, but I was already comfortably familiar with those; if you're not, they're expensive and there's a steep learning curve. (But if you're at this stage and could use a bit of advice, feel free to drop me a line.)
For lots more on the whole process—both artistic and technical--behind these distinctive covers, click on the photo below.
Since then health issues (outlined in the website bio), and a general awareness of mortality, made me think I really ought to give fiction a higher priority before it was too late. The decision to split The Shattered Moon into two books was one part of it. Naturally I gave closest attention to the first book, renamed Three Kinds of North, and began the process of submitting to literary agents in July 2020. I had some encouraging responses, notably from the renowned Julie Crisp, but no one loved it quite enough to take it on.
Over the years I'd accumulated sketches, fragments, and rough drafts of various other projects too; ones which got past the 'rough' stage include a portal fantasy and a contemporary Young Adult novel. I've also got a couple of 'harder' science fiction books in the pile, and I'm hoping to give one of those another polish, maybe try it with a few agents—but my No. 1 priority is honing Book Two of The Shattered Moon.
I also tried to turn my hand to short stories, all SF or occasionally fantasy. Curiously, though I was comfortable with tight word-limits in my non-fiction career (1800 words for one of my long-term regular outlets), my 'short' stories always tended to spread. I rarely managed anything under 5000 words, which is the upper limit for a lot of markets. Again, I had a fair few 'we like it, but not quite enough' responses, but never got beyond that. A couple of these are now free to read on the website.
In 2022 I decided it was time to self-publish, and if I was going to do it I was going to do it properly. The real push to get Three Kinds of North into shape and into the big wide world has happened in the last few months, but I was gradually gathering information and resources well before then. I attended a few relevant sessions at the Jericho Writers Conference in York in 2019, and have benefited from their tutorials, discussions, and other online resources, ever since. I've also been following David Gaughran and Mark Dawson for some time.
Just to give an idea of what's been involved, here are the websites and apps I originally used to assemble the jigsaw:
Atticus (for book formatting; particularly important if you want to offer a print edition);
Ingram Spark (distribution, both print and digital);
StoryOrigin (where readers landed to sign up to my newsletter and collect a free story);
MailerLite (creation and distribution of said newsletter);
Nielsen (to register ISBNs, essential if publishing a print edition);
Wix (creation of the author website);
Facebook/Meta Business Suite (for the FB Page and creating/disseminating ads);
Canva (so far, purely to add text effects to my FB ads).
And finally, BookBrush (handy way to create the 3D image of the book cover on an iPad, and some other cool stuff).
Quite a few of these have since fallen by the wayside; the newsletter has gone, replaced by Substack, which removes all need for StoryOrigin and MailerLite. I recently switched from Wix to Weebly, mainly on the grounds that I can get everything I need from a website for less than half the price. I got virtually nil returns from the hassle and cost of Facebook advertising, and I’ve now quit Facebook entirely, for reasons I needn’t go into here. (However, if the word 'enshittification' popped into your head, you’re not wrong. That’s a significant part of it.)
Every one of those required some sort of learning curve, some steeper than others. I had a couple of false starts before I got myself properly sorted with Ingram Spark, and the FB ad creation process was pretty involved too (and, for me, not worth it; see above). At the other end, Canva is a doddle to use and even the free version has a lot of possibilities. I know some authors have used it to create their book covers. However, I’ve not used it since the original flurry of activity and not sure I will be doing so again. To create my book covers I used Lightroom and Photoshop, but I was already comfortably familiar with those; if you're not, they're expensive and there's a steep learning curve. (But if you're at this stage and could use a bit of advice, feel free to drop me a line.)
For lots more on the whole process—both artistic and technical--behind these distinctive covers, click on the photo below.
Work in progress on the cover of Vows and Watersheds.
The actual writing is done in Pages—and I’m just going to say it; for me it’s a far more amenable app than Word, which I no longer use (the only Microsoft app left on my laptop is Teams). This verdict is grounded in experience far beyond the Shattered Moon series: 60 other books and hundreds of articles over more than 30 years. Some of those books involved complex layouts with numerous embedded tables and Pages handles these far more adroitly than Word.
You could write directly in Atticus, but I wouldn't recommend it, although Atticus is a bit patchy in recognising chapter breaks and some bits of formatting when uploading a 'doc file (irrespective of whether this was created in Word or exported from Pages).
From the above list, then, the apps/sites that still receive significant use are Atticus, Ingram Spark, and Nielsen. I should say that each country has its own source of official ISBNs, and as I’m in the UK it’s Nielsen. The corresponding site in the US is Bowker. Don’t be seduced by other 'agencies' offering to arrange ISBNs for you; at best there’s no need, at worst they’re expensive scams.
A couple of years ago I gave an online presentation on my self-publishing journey, which was quite well received. I have notes and screenshots. If anyone else is contemplating a similar endeavour, let me know and I'll see what I can do to help.
You could write directly in Atticus, but I wouldn't recommend it, although Atticus is a bit patchy in recognising chapter breaks and some bits of formatting when uploading a 'doc file (irrespective of whether this was created in Word or exported from Pages).
From the above list, then, the apps/sites that still receive significant use are Atticus, Ingram Spark, and Nielsen. I should say that each country has its own source of official ISBNs, and as I’m in the UK it’s Nielsen. The corresponding site in the US is Bowker. Don’t be seduced by other 'agencies' offering to arrange ISBNs for you; at best there’s no need, at worst they’re expensive scams.
A couple of years ago I gave an online presentation on my self-publishing journey, which was quite well received. I have notes and screenshots. If anyone else is contemplating a similar endeavour, let me know and I'll see what I can do to help.
