One of the advantages of working in a bookshop is that you’re exposed to all sorts of publications, and soon get to know which are popular. Way back in the mists of time I started with Bill Bryson, and was delighted by what I found. While it’s a little bit dated now in terms of terminology and reference points, this was and still is a fantastic read. He gets a bit muddled on his steep streets geography in Liverpool bit I can forgive him that, as he was writing about a time when he was pissed. In the 25 years since this came out (and nearly fifty since its setting) there has been a glut and a huge rise on popularity of the humorous travelogue, but most owe a debt to Mr Bryson, who balances wry observations, neat turns of phrase and nuggets of delightful ephemera in this.
It influenced my own writing in a number of ways, not least having a strong author or narrator voice, identifiable as the character, and not being afraid to use humour even in very serious situations. I also enjoyed it immensely and have bought all his books since, giving me a cast iron example of how an author’s name and style can sell and sell (and some of the later ones were a bit rubbish, but I still bought them). Byson also tends to keep his chapters, or subjects, short and snappy, and that is something I always try to do. A bit like the successes of James Patterson, the value of short ‘I’ll just read another’ chapters shouldn’t be under estimated. Of course in my next one, The Raven Sound, I go totally against that direct approach, as the structure of my novel means only five chapters, balanced out. Within the chapters I change perspective and use flashbacks to try and keep the narrative moving though. Anyway, if you’ve never tried travel writing before, here’s an excellent place to start (for the young amongst you, I’ll answer one question in advance, as you’ll wonder much as I did, and you need to know to understand an early anecdote; a counterpane is a bedspread).
Stay safe
Kit