Chris

Christopher Priest, one of our most important writers, has died. 

I met and came to know Chris through my friendship with his wife, Nina. Over the last ten years, the two of them have been comrades and occasional mentors; I have often said that without their combined influence, I would not be taking my writing anywhere near as seriously. (Chris’s criticism could be fierce, even brutal, though it was always bang-on.)

He was a hugely sensitive, caring, and passionate man, and ‘old-school’ in the sense that he continued to uphold writing as a true profession, a vital pursuit, a way to capture and so preserve a record of the world. He had little regard for the vagaries of publishing, nor much of its attendant bullshit. And he wasn’t afraid to be honest, even when it costed him – or hurt him. In fact, honesty was his entire mission.

To mark his passing, I wanted to share some advice Chris emailed to me in 2021, when I was really struggling. It perfectly demonstrates his generosity, the value he placed on quality, and his powerful support for other writers.

The following worked wonders, and has completely changed my practice.

Good, clear English is a gateway to literature. You can elaborate, mix up, mangle, experiment, drag through the gutter, rise to the empyrean, but keep the English good. You should put whatever weight you think appropriate on this thought.

(NB: I do not see myself as a paragon of virtue on the subject. I make the same mistakes as anybody. But it’s a daily responsibility.)

The best, most serious advice I can give is this. Create a mental image of the whole book: what you want it to say, who the characters are, where the plot will lead, what the main scenes are, what the important elements of the story consist of. Just sit and think about it. Get it in your head. Don’t assume you have already done that a thousand times. You have not.

This is holism: visualise the MS as a book.

Then rewrite the whole thing from beginning to end. Work from a hard copy. Never look at previous drafts on your hard disc. Never, EVER, use Copy/Paste from an earlier version, even if you think it’s a good bit that does not need revision, that you think can be transferred across piecemeal. Copy/Paste is a writer’s worst enemy. Retype everything, even the good bits, especially the good bits. You might find yourself retyping, word for word, something from the hard copy. It’s not wasted labour: it’s a confirmation you got that bit right. But most of the time you will be correcting, amending, improving … both at a sentence level and within the wholeness of the book. You will find that every line, paragraph or page will have several tiny but significant improvements. And you know what lies ahead in the book: build in anticipations. You know what’s behind you: refer to it subtly, be consistent, develop past themes. This is a supreme experience of writing: until you try it you have no idea what a source of creative satisfaction you will gain from it.

Do not cheat, fall foul of temptation and copy in bits from the old draft, because you will be cheating yourself.

I’ll miss him, and I won’t be alone. Sending love to his family and friends.