Howdunit. Группа авторов
href="#ulink_f17601c0-c6bc-5dc0-8731-01b422c23f1e">David Stuart Davies Writer’s Block
Ending
Laura Wilson The End of the Beginning
Publishing
David Roberts The Changing Face of Publishing
Antonia Hodgson What Editors Want
Russell James Traditional versus Self-Publishing
Jill Paton Walsh One Thing Leads to Another
Writing Lives
Reginald Hill The Writing Process
Jonathan Gash Reading for Pleasure
Janet Neel Don’t Give Up the Day Job
Bertie Denham Writing to Relax
Elly Griffiths Social Media and the Death of Nancy
John Le Carré The Joy of Writing
Len Deighton Different Books; Different Problems; Different Solutions
The Contributors: Biographical Notes
The Detection Club: Presidents
The Detection Club: Members
Index of Authors
Subject Index
Copyright and Acknowledgements
Keep Reading …
About the Publisher
In Howdunit, no fewer than ninety leading crime novelists offer personal perspectives on their approach to their craft – and on the writing life. There are countless valuable insights for would-be writers, but our overriding aim is to entertain and inform anyone who enjoys crime fiction. And perhaps even some people who don’t regard themselves as crime fans – at least not yet – but who are fascinated by the way authors work.
Each contributor is a past or present member of the Detection Club, the world’s oldest social network of crime writers. Publication of Howdunit coincides with the Club’s ninetieth birthday, so there is one essay for each year of the Club’s life to date. Over the past nine decades, many of Britain’s preeminent authors in the genre have belonged to the Club. Their work includes spy, thriller, and adventure fiction, as well as traditional detective stories and novels of psychological suspense. It is high time that their collective wisdom appeared in a single volume. The emphasis is on present-day writing and writers, but our predecessors’ thoughts remain of interest. This is partly because they illustrate how much the writing life and literary fashions have changed, and partly because they show that quite a few challenges remain the same. Detection Club members take their work seriously – but we also take joy from it. That sense of pleasure ripples through the contributions, from Lindsey Davis’s thoughts on literary style to Simon Brett’s rueful reflections about the prospect of having one’s masterpiece adapted by other hands.
A century ago, the Club’s first President, G. K. Chesterton, wrote with pungent wit, ‘It is a well-known fact that people who have never succeeded in anything end by writing books about how to succeed; and I do not see why this principle should not be applied to success in the writing of detective stories as well as in lower and less glorious walks of life.’ But I like to think that Chesterton would have approved of this book, and would be delighted to see his own opinions appear alongside those of his contemporaries and successors.
From the Club’s formation in 1930, Detection Club members, with Anthony Berkeley Cox and Dorothy L. Sayers taking a vigorous lead, set about raising the literary standards of the genre. In those early days, bestselling thrillers tended to be shoddily written and jingoistic, so membership was confined to authors who had produced at least two detective novels of ‘acknowledged merit’, a standard occasionally applied in a rather haphazard manner. Thriller writers were excluded unless they also wrote detective stories in the classic vein. After the Second World War, when it became obvious even to the diehards that first-rate authors such as Eric Ambler were writing thrillers, the absurdity of continuing the exclusion was recognized and it was abandoned.
In its infancy, the Club was popularly associated with the idea of laying down ‘rules’ about how to write detective stories. The rules and their purpose have been shrouded in myths and misunderstandings. For a start, the rules were conceived by Ronald Knox, renowned as a satirist, before the Club was founded. And they were written tongue-in-cheek: an ordained priest, Knox presented them as a gentle skit on the Ten Commandments. Some of the ‘rules’, such as ‘The detective must not himself commit the crime’, were futile, taking the idea of ‘fair play’ towards the reader too far and for no good reason. He made one or two sensible points: for instance, when he says that twin brothers and doubles ‘must not appear unless we have been duly prepared for them’, he was simply arguing against the use of inelegant trickery that might fool readers but only at the cost of exasperating them. Above all, he was arguing for common sense in the writing of mysteries, urging practitioners to shun the absurd plot contrivances and racial stereotypes that abounded in early twentieth-century crime writing.
Cox, who founded the Club, and wrote innovative and influential crime fiction as Anthony Berkeley and Francis Iles, delighted in breaking the so-called ‘rules’ in his work, and so did many of his fellow members. But over the years, the joke got lost. One often-repeated canard is that Agatha Christie came close to being drummed out of the Club because The Murder of Roger Ackroyd was deemed to breach its rules. This is pure invention; the truth is that the novel was published four years before the Club came into existence, and it was much admired by Cox, Sayers, and Christie’s other colleagues.
It’s tempting to go to the other extreme, and suggest that the only rule for crime writers is that there are no rules. Writing is a process of trial and error, and each person has to work out what suits them best. Even so, the experiences of skilled practitioners, past and present, are instructive as well as intriguing. And who better, in Britain at least, to compile such a book than members of the Detection Club?
When I proposed, at the Club’s AGM in February 2019, that we collaborate on a book of this