For five days only, you can download Love vs Honour for FREE from Amazon Kindle!

I wrote Love vs Honour almost ten years ago and sat on it for some time, as it lay outside my usual genre fiction writing. Certainly young adult romantic drama isn’t something I specialise in, yet the story felt so strong in my mind, I had no choice but to ultimately release the novel.

It begins as a boy meets girl story, with a potentially controversial religious twist. It then evolves into a drama of deception, with many twists, turns and ironies, before a much darker finale which has taken some readers by surprise. I must emphasise that this novel is as much for grown-ups as teenagers, as the subject matter is not just romantic but embraces a number of complex and hopefully thought-provoking themes and ideas. I cannot say too much more for fear of spoilers.

Here is the blurb from the back of the book:

Two Religions. Two Deceptions. One Love.

But how long can this deception last before it unravels?

Here are a few review snippets:

“This book is one of the few that made me cry. I love it.” – Splufic, Goodreads.

“The premise of a Christian and a Muslim pretending to convert to each other’s religion to be with each other for the sake of pure, unadulterated love creates a strangely addictive narrative.” – Graeme Stevenson, Amazon.

“The ending of the book really made the whole thing. I kept wondering where this was headed, if it was an apologist piece or would go to a more realistic place. I won’t spoil the ending except to say, read this book. It is surely worth your time!” – DM Miller, author The Religion of the Heart and The Agony of the Heart.

If you want to purchase a print copy of Love vs Honour, you can order from here.

When putting the finishing touches to a novel, I experience a brief moment of euphoria, followed by an alarming feeling of emptiness. This occurred again recently, as I finished the second draft of my most recent novel, The Deviant Prophet.

I call this feeling post book blues, and I expect the feeling applies to all artists, not just writers. Having put your heart and soul into a project, having undergone a lengthy mental journey with imaginary characters, one suddenly has to say goodbye to these characters. The problem is, by then I have often fallen in love with them, and don’t want to say goodbye.

There is, however, a cure: go onto the next project as soon as possible. I normally have my next three novels lined up in any case, but I appreciate some writers do not operate that way. I have a great deal of sympathy for anyone in such a predicament. Mercifully, I don’t typically have that problem. Otherwise, I think might sink into despair. Writing can be so addictive. Writing is like heroin.

Ultimately, if experiencing post book blues, I have to ask the question, why do I write? In my case, it is to silence the voices in my head by putting them on paper. Furthermore, it is because I have a pathological need to entertain. There is no better feeling in the world than knowing your story has brought pleasure to the reader (or even displeasure, because if so you have nevertheless got under the skin of the reader).

In such cases, a book can be like a gift that keeps on giving. That is the author’s greatest reward.

Some of you might be wondering when I am releasing my next book, or what I am currently working on. My apologies for the lack of news on that front lately. The problem with writing is it sometimes occupies the mind at the expense of remembering to communicate properly on the blog.

At any rate, besides writing obvious April Fool posts about giant spiders, I have been working on a new novel, tentatively entitled The Deviant Prophet. I have almost finished a second draft. It is a grown-up fantasy tale, tonally akin to something like Pan’s Labyrinth. Other influences I would cite include Coraline, Alice in Wonderland and Spirited Away. It has been a very interesting novel to write, as it functions as a kind of companion piece to Children of the Folded Valley on a thematic level, if not a genre level.

I am about to start work on my second novel for 2016, something that has been gestating in my consciousness for since late 2012. All I will say at this stage is that it is a contemporary thriller for grown-ups, and involves mysterious suitcases, a treasure hunt, a love story, Oxford and Oliver Cromwell’s New Model Army.

The next novel I plan to release is still The Thistlewood Curse. Blending elements of detective story, supernatural thriller and horror, this Lundy Island set nail-biter occupies a similar space to my previous novel The Birds Began to Sing, though it is decidedly heavier on the horror aspects. I hope to have release dates and a proper announcement very soon, so watch this space.

I have sometimes discussed the recurring themes in my novels on this blog. For example religious oppression and abuse of power are mainstays in all my work. Children of the Folded Valley is perhaps the most obvious example.

Another key factor in my books is good versus evil. Inevitably this is born out of my Christian worldview, and since it is Easter perhaps now is a good time to reflect on this a little. For example, if I ever decide to explore the idea of good and evil being two sides of a coin, then I would prefer to think of Michael and Lucifer rather than God and Lucifer, as the afore-mentioned beings are of the same equivalent power. God by contrast is (in my worldview) far more powerful than either.

Themes of good versus evil are found in many of my favourite films and novels. Watership Down is about the price of fighting evil. The Untouchables is about refusing to compromise in the face of evil. With one key character (Snape), the Harry Potter series explores the motivations of why people stand on the side of good or evil. Then of course Star Wars and The Lord of the Rings are not only about overcoming external evil, but about overcoming the evil in oneself – or not, as the case may be.

In my own work, this latter point is something I have examined certainly in certain novels. The arc from bully to hero by one key character in the second and third novels of the George Hughes trilogy is an example. The descent into religious fundamentalism by certain characters in Love vs Honour, and the Faustian descent into murder depicted in my upcoming novel The Thistlewood Curse stand in stark contrast to this.

Although I write antagonists with shades of grey, and include motivations, ultimately I do write from a worldview of good standing against evil, whatever the context. As I explained earlier this worldview is essentially a Judeo-Christian one, which I know stands at odds with writers who take a more anti-theist or moral relativist position. I must confess that whilst I admire many works written by such writers, I could never write like that myself, simply because it would not sound convincing. I can only write what I believe.

In short, in virtually all my stories, there is a clash of sorts between good and evil. I can’t see that changing any time soon.

Sometimes I don’t fully understand what my novels are about, deep down, whilst writing them.

Obviously I know about the story and characters, but because I don’t want to come off as preachy, I do not consciously include any “message” in my stories whilst they are being written. I often don’t understand what kind of point I am making, deep down, until after the fact.

Some might claim this makes me a bad writer, but if so I am clearly in good company. JRR Tolkien had this to say about why he wrote The Lord of the Rings: “As for any inner meaning or ‘message’, it has in the intention of the author none. It is neither allegorical nor topical. The prime motive was the desire of a tale-teller to try his hand at a really long story that would hold he attention of readers, amuse them, delight them, and at times maybe excite them or deeply move them. As a guide I had only my own feelings for what is appealing or moving.”

Later, Tolkien acknowledged that the novel did in fact have a number of things to say, regarding friendship, growing up, the treatment of the environment, the nature of war, and his own Christian faith, amongst others. Indeed, there are a great deal of “messages” and “ideas” in The Lord of the Rings. However, these were messages and ideas that were not consciously intended.

That summarises how I approach my own writing.

For example, in the case of the George Hughes trilogy, I wrote those purely because I wanted to write an exciting science fiction adventure story that children (and intelligent adults) would enjoy. The first in the series, George goes to Mars, simply launched the whole “boy inherits Mars” premise, and at the time was intended as a one-off novel.

However, subsequently readers expressed interesting ideas about what George goes to Mars was actually about, under the surface. Apparently the novel can be read as an allegory about the dangers of religious fundamentalism, and also contains strong feminist undertones. It is also, some have claimed, a parable about the need for responsible leadership. Here I must confess I did intend for George to have a character arc whereby leadership is thrust upon him, but merely as a character arc to provide a satisfying plot, not to make any great statement about the evils of corrupt leadership.

The immediate sequel, George goes to Titan, I have been told is about everything from bullying to civil rights and slavery, as well as metaphysical stuff like faith.

The final novel, George goes to Neptune, I have been told is about heavy stuff like post-traumatic stress, overcoming fear, coming to terms with grief and growing up.

Again, I didn’t deliberately intend any particular message in these books, but in retrospect I have to concede that all of these readings are valid, and that in some cases, given what I was going through in my personal life when I wrote them, these interpretations make sense.

In the past taglines were generally used for movies. Science fiction films in particular often feature very memorable taglines. Off the top of my head I think of Close Encounters of the Third Kind (“We are not alone”), Dune (“A world beyond your experience, beyond your imagination”), Total Recall (“They stole his mind, now he wants it back”), Jurassic Park (“An adventure 65 million years in the making”), and Alien (“In space, no-one can hear you scream”).

In recent years novels seem to be increasingly released with taglines. For example, Anthony Horowitz employed them with his Alex Rider and The Power of Five series. “Adrenaline, action, adventure” is a tagline used for the entire Alex Rider series, whilst “Darkness waits on the other side” is the tagline for Raven’s Gate, the first instalment of The Power of Five.

Some articles I’ve read claim taglines are a must for authors, as they are “like a publicist that never sleeps”. However, I’ve only released one book so far with a tagline, Love vs Honour, last year. Perhaps because that novel was so far removed from the genre fiction I normally write, it hasn’t been very successful so far, although those who have taken the time to read it have enjoyed it.

The tagline for Love vs Honour is “Two Religions. Two Deceptions. One Love”. This essentially summarises the premise, with a boy and a girl from Christian and Islamic backgrounds respectively falling in love, and undertaking an elaborate deception designed to placate both sets of disapproving parents, whereby one pretends to convert to Islam and the other to Christianity.

I quite like this tagline. However, in my case it has hardly been a “publicist that never sleeps”. Indeed, my most successful novel to date by far, Children of the Folded Valley, had no tagline. Will I use taglines in the future? If I can think of a good one, yes. But I certainly don’t expect them to act as a magic spell for success.

Novelists are often advised not to write flashbacks. Or at least, if we do, we are told we’d better be a seasoned genius, not a wet-behind-the-ears first time novelist.

Like all other advice of this kind, I take it with a pinch (and occasionally a sack) of salt. Flashbacks are like any other narrative device. They can be done well or badly. I have not used them before unless you count a framing device in Children of the Folded Valley, in which case, the bulk of the novel is a flashback, technically speaking.

However, in a novel I wrote last year entitled The Irresistible Summons, I finally took the plunge and included flashbacks when I could think of no better alternative. The three chapters in question are staggered throughout the first half of the novel, and gradually reveal vital backstory that could only otherwise be told by one character to another in a lengthy explanation of something that took place in her childhood. This would have been less dramatic, and it would also have robbed the story of the emotional power I wanted it to contain.

There then comes the thorny question of where to place the flashbacks amid the main narrative so it feels seamless and not an intrusion. This proved fiendishly tricky, but with a bit of rewriting and other jiggery-pokery, I think I got away with it. The three individuals who have read early drafts all agreed that the flashbacks were both integral and well-placed. Cue huge sigh of relief from yours truly.

So yes, whilst flashbacks are a difficult trick to pull off, they are sometimes worth including in my view.

Get my most successful novel Children of the Folded Valley absolutely FREE on Kindle from Amazon – for five days only!

Here is the blurb from the back of the book:

During a journey to visit his estranged sister, James Harper recalls his childhood growing up in a mysterious valley cut off from the outside world, as part of a cult called the Folded Valley Fellowship.

In this seemingly idyllic world, the charismatic Benjamin Smiley claimed to be protecting his followers from an impending nuclear apocalypse.

But the valley concealed a terrifying secret.

A secret that would change Smiley’s followers forever.

Here is a sample of the many raves reviews (mainly from the Amazon page):

“I don’t usually leave reviews but I felt so strongly about encouraging people to read this fantastic book. It had me captured from start to finish. At one stage in the book I actually thought it was a true story.” – Paul, Amazon.

“The use of re-written religious doctrine to control, govern and frighten is particularly chilling… Full marks to Simon Dillon for this creative and highly readable novel.” – Around Robin, Amazon.

“Creepy and unnerving. Kept me gripped the whole way through.” – Lucyboo, Amazon.

“I couldn’t put it down.” – Bukky, Amazon.

“Really well written, well thought through, compassionate… Full of empathy.” – Over, Amazon.

“So well written, you could believe it was a memoir.” – Shelley, Amazon.

“A perturbing and very original story… The ending is magnificent.” – Joan, Goodreads.

Of course, if digital books aren’t your thing, print copies can be ordered here (alas, not free).

One frequently reads writing advice to the effect that adverbs are the source of all evil. Some of these articles are so vehement I actually checked the Bible to see if adverbs were a result of Adam and Eve eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the book of Genesis.

My own, rather more liberal view on adverbs is simple: if you use them to clarify, no problem.

For example, in “Simon smiled happily” the “happily” is superfluous. On the other hand “Simon smiled cruelly” could work well, depending on the context of course. If Simon is busy sadistically torturing a victim, then “cruelly” would also be superfluous as his sadistic acts speak for themselves. On the other hand such a sentence could work if the expression turns a scene. Perhaps you think Simon is a good guy then all of a sudden he smiles cruelly, indicating bad things to come.

Another example: people can sigh for different reasons. “Simon sighed…” Contentedly? Wearily? Reluctantly? Again it depends on the individual scene in which Simon sighs, but sometimes adding the adverb helps.

In short, for me, good use of adverbs is no bad thing. As usual it is all about context.

Increasingly amongst literary types (well, amongst agents and publishers at least) there seems to be a vogue for disliking prologues and epilogues in novels, purely on principle. Apparently they are passe and boring.

I cannot understand why, beyond an essentially lazy argument that they want to ditch prologues in order to get on with the story. Sometimes prologues can be boring, self-indulgent and/or irrelevant, but at other times they can prove intriguing, insightful and essential. The same can be true of epilogues. The question as a writer is, how can you tell the difference?

Of course, if one wants to slavishly adhere to all directives from mainstream publishing types, prologues and epilogues are to be conscientiously avoided, especially for the first time novelist. However, I disregard such blanket prohibitions, as on a few occasions the presence of a prologue or epilogue has, in my view, greatly enhanced my novels – either in anticipation of events to follow, or in providing emotional closure at the aftermath.

My own rule of thumb is if the novel genuinely loses something from the excision of the prologue and/or epilogue, include them. Obviously deciding this can be done by taking into consideration advice from others. Last year for example, I wrote a novel that featured a prologue. It wasn’t strictly necessary for the plot, but it eerily foreshadowed subsequent events, and provided an emotional hook that otherwise would not have been present had the novel begun with chapter 1. Of course, some novelists would simply say to make the prologue chapter 1, but somehow that didn’t feel right to me in this case.

Another example from my own work is the epilogue at the conclusion of my most successful novel Children of the Folded Valley. I defy you to find anyone who thinks the novel would be improved by excluding those last couple of pages. The epilogue is emotionally essential, providing what I hoped to be (and what reviewers tell me is) a powerfully cathartic close. Check out the novel for yourself, if you haven’t already.