D.E Meredith talks to Damien Seaman…
D.E Meredith
When I’m asked why I started writing or what my inspiration for DEVOURED was, I’m flummoxed. Should I make it sound as if I had a plan? That it was my life-long ambition?
When I left University all I wanted to do was work. I’d grown up in London suburbia. My parents both left school at thirteen. I was the first person from my state school to get to Cambridge and when I left all I wanted was to get paid and do some good in the world. I didn’t have the funds to go to Europe and find myself. I never wore black
polo necks or listened to jazz. I didn’t look mournfully out of the window at parties. I never went to Paris until I was forty. I’ve never set foot in New York.
I secretly scoffed at my friends who wanted to anything “creative.” What a waste of time, I thought. How very self indulgent. I was never a would-be writer, tortuous manuscripts stuffed in a drawer somewhere, note book and pen forever in hand, whilst holding down a sensible job till I got what I really wanted which was to be published.
I wanted to do the sensible job. I loved my sensible job. But then something happened. I was going in one direction and I simply took a left turn. Like when you go to Tesco’s for a pint of milk and come out with a lemon drizzle cake. I surprised myself. But when I admit to this, people look aghast. They’re not convinced. So now I say something tangible and sensible.
I say I read a book by a great Nineteenth Century Naturalist who travelled to Borneo collecting butterflies and beasts. That his travelogue inspired me with its tales of ape hunts, Birds of Paradise and malarial visions. That when I read about his epic journey classifying flora and fauna, in the 1850s, I was knocked sideways and felt compelled to write a story.
All of this is true.
The Malay Archipelago set my imagination alight, so much so that instead of doing my serious work (I was due to start a new project for Greenpeace), I found myself tapping at a key board, producing what was to be the first draft of DEVOURED in a matter of months. And one thing simply led to another.
Discovering the world of Victorian Naturalists led me thinking about C19th attitudes to Science which led me to thinking about pathology and the dawn of forensics. This chain of disparate thoughts all happening in just under a week, so that by day seven (and that’s the
only Darwinian pun you’re getting), I’d created the beginnings of my imaginary world and my forensic “detectives”, Professor Adolphus Hatton and his morgue assistant, the doughty, Monsieur Albert Roumande.
The city they live in is a harsh one but their work – cutting up cadavers by the flicker of a tallow – shines light into a dark abyss of ignorance. Along the way, I’ve learnt about early forensic techniques alongside my characters, who often have to innovate with methods such as the Metzger Mirror (for arsenic detection) and very early finger printing. For me, this early science of forensics is completely gripping and I’ve combined it with looking at the big political themes of the day – evolutionary theory in DEVOURED and Fenianism in THE DEVIL’S RIBBON (coming in February).
In other words, I’ve immersed myself in this imaginary world because writing is a joy; an exotic adventure. But it’s not all great. Writing can also be demoralising and lonely old game, as you struggle to “push through” problems with plot, character or structure. Indeed, the sheer process, if I can be a little bit writery for a moment, cuts you off
from family and friends. Forget about your social life. It’s the life of an obsessive. Novels require long hours and dedication. Added to which, you’re isolated, suffer constant setbacks, rejections and take bucket loads of criticism. But I love it and can say, in all honesty, that it’s my life’s ambition now to keep on writing. That’s my inspiration. I just want to tell my stories, improve on my craft and be the best I can.
Devoured by D.E Meredith
Devoured has been selected as Allison & Busby’sBook of the Month.
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