I once read that “the first draft is you telling yourself the story”.

I’m not sure where to attribute that quote, but this is certainly true for me. Whilst I have a good outline of the story whenever I write a novel (including the ending, which is crucial), the precise details of that story are rendered fairly anxiously in a first draft. By anxiously I mean the story is over-explained, repetitious, states the obvious and character dialogue is merely functional at that stage, making sure I know what emotions need to be conveyed. I have to make sure the whole thing makes sense to me, before it can make sense to anyone else.

Should I expose readers to such a draft, they would no doubt feel horribly patronised. However, subsequent drafts eliminate over-explanation and repetition. In fact, the withholding of information, the adding of ambiguity to events, dialogue and so on is a hugely enjoyable process, once you as an author have made sense of the story for yourself. It is almost as though I say to myself “I know what I mean by this. Now I want the reader to add their own interpretation”.

Of course, some writers autocratically want to tell their readers what to think, but the older I get, the more I think this approach is a mistake. What is important to an author will be inherent in the text, but it is better for a reader to bring their own baggage and have wriggle room on interpretation, taking what is applicable to them.

In essence, telling the story to myself also encompasses telling myself how I respond to that story. The rewriting process removes the latter stage, stripping it down to the story only and leaving the interpretation to the reader. The final act in my novel Children of the Folded Valley is a prime example of this. I know what I meant to convey, but I removed the explicit stating of what that is. It is up to the reader to decide.

I have heard some storytelling gurus state that the use of coincidence in a story is a heinous crime and should be avoided at all costs. Obviously Charles Dickens didn’t get that particular memo, as many of his greatest novels, including Oliver Twist and Great Expectations, contain all manner of fortuitous coincidences, many of which are integral to their plots.

My personal opinion is that if coincidence is used in a story, it must be done deliberately with a well-thought through reason. In the case of the Dickens novels mentioned above, the moments of coincidence have fabulist feel, ie the reader feels that they are reading a fable. As such using chance meetings or the like to turn the plot doesn’t seem out of place but rather an organic part of the storytelling process. For example in Great Expectations, when Pip discovers the truth about the relationship between Abel Magwich and Estella, it underscores the entire point of the fable regarding Victorian hypocrisy, the folly of class prejudice and our common humanity.

Outside of such stories, coincidence can be used, but is best kept to the openings – a chance meeting between two characters who then become lovers, for example. However stories that use coincidence later, especially if used to turn the final act, can feel forced, phoney and unsatisfying. This is particularly true if said coincidence comes in the form of deus ex machina, a poncey term for coincidence-zilla whereby a seemingly unconnected act of God gets the protagonists out of their trouble. Pixar’s legendary storytelling rules include “Coincidences to get characters into trouble is great; coincidences to get them out of it are cheating”.

One of my favourite Agatha Christie novels, Sleeping Murder, has a terrifically spooky opening that is entirely the result of coincidence. A young recently married couple on holiday in Devon just so happen to drive past a house for sale they rather like the look of. They decide to buy it, but as they go about various decorative renovations, a series of eerie discoveries sets the entire plot in motion, all as a result of the opening coincidence. But because it is the first major part of the story, the inciting incident if you will, what follows feels plausible rather than contrived, even though the odds of the couple coming across this particular house, which has ties to the woman’s past, must have been astronomical.

In conclusion, I think it is foolish to say coincidences (along with adverbs and – whisper it – passages that tell rather than show) are the work of the devil for writers. Instead, I see them as simply tools and techniques that should be used strategically and sparingly.

Continuing my series on inspiration and influences for my novels, in this post I am taking a look at the ideas behind my George Hughes science fiction adventure trilogy, which comprises (in reading order) George goes to Mars, George goes to Titan and George goes to Neptune.

The original idea for this series came from an article I once read online, about how various celebrities had bought plots of land on the moon to build homes there in case it was ever colonised. The person they bought the land from had made a claim with the US Land and Registry office on the entire surface of the moon, which apparently is legally binding (not sure how exactly, as I don’t see how this takes into account the laws of other nations).

The George Hughes series are mysterious, action-packed space stories aimed at the young and young at heart. Each story is a stand-alone adventure, but they do follow on from one another as well. They are not just for children either. Amid the excitement, humour and thrills, I touch on everything from murderous religious fundamentalism to sexual equality, civil rights, slavery as well as more metaphysical elements.

Here are five key influences on the stories:

The Alex Rider series (Anthony Horowitz) – Because so much science fiction literature is more grown-up and serious in nature, I wanted to write something that wasn’t Asimov or Herbert, but more of an unashamed thrill ride that could be enjoyed by all the family. The action packed tone in the George Hughes trilogy very much takes its cue from Horowitz’s brilliant teen spy series. The Alex Rider books particularly impress me because they are well researched and detailed, whilst also being completely non-patronising with adversaries as dangerous as anything in James Bond. In the George Hughes books, I have included a lot of accurate detail on the planets George visits, as well as some properly ruthless villains.

Flash Gordon (Alex Raymond) – The thrills of the original Alex Raymond Flash Gordon comics were another key influence. I wanted each novel to have perilous narrow escapes of the kind that occur so brilliantly in the panels of that seminal publication that later went on to become the Buster Crabbe Saturday matinee serials of the 1940s, the TV animated feature and series, and of course the glorious (if overly spoofy) 1980 film.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Roald Dahl) – The extreme poverty George and his adoptive parents find themselves in at the start of George goes to Mars is akin to the extreme poverty endured by Charlie Bucket and his multiple relatives at the start of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Despite the science fiction setting, I wanted to create a similar, rags-to-riches sense of fairy tale in the way George suddenly comes into his inheritance.

Artemis Fowl (Eoin Colfer) – The mysterious character of Giles, who acts as a protector of sorts for George, draws a certain inspiration from the character of Butler in the Artemis Fowl series. The relationship between Artemis and Butler is also not unlike the relationship between Giles and George, at least to begin with. But of course, over the course of the George Hughes novels, that relationship evolves in rather different ways.

Explorers on the Moon (Herge) – There is a sequence in this comic where Tintin, Captain Haddock and Snowy explore a cave on the moon, which directly inspired the cave exploration sequence in George goes to Mars. Obviously the situation and the outcome are very different, but on a purely visual level this inspired my imagination. The idea of exploring caves on another world is oddly thrilling, and I always wanted it to lead onto a more profound discovery. Of course, in George goes to Mars that is exactly what does happen, though I wouldn’t dream of spoiling that here…

You can download the George Hughes novels from Amazon Kindle here, or else buy printed copies of the first two novels from Lulu here and here, and the third one from Amazon Create here.