The Chance Remark that Proves a Golden Nugget.

The value of ‘throwaway comments.’

I’m just starting to research book four. At the moment (and subject to my editor’s approval) I’m thinking of writing a Chariots of Fire type novel that fictionalises the true life story of two swimmers of the 1940’s. I’m getting quite excited about it, so I hope it goes ahead.

As I’ve mentioned in previous blog posts, I love to speak to actual people who went through the events I narrate, or who are experts in their chosen field.

In book three, that involved speaking to Jersey sailors; in book four I’m trying to track down people who have swum in high level competitions (any Olympic swimmers out there? – if so, I’d love to hear from you!) All my interviewees have supplied me with helpful information, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I’m sure both books will be richer for it.

But sometimes, it’s the chance remark that proves the most valuable. For book three, I was running a sailing scene past my mariner friend. It involved an old sailor called Duggie who takes my young protagonist on board for a secret world war two rescue mission. Exciting stuff (I hope!) Apparently my sailing description passed muster (phew) but it was something I had assumed was inconsequential that proved a warning to my reader. ‘Dougie isn’t a Jersey name,’ my source declared. A Jersey name? I had no idea that there were certain names associated with Jersey inhabitants. Some brief research confirmed he’d been correct. I managed to unearth a list of Jersey Christian names. He was right: none of them was Duggie. I quickly changed my character’s name to Jack, which appeared to be more authentic.

Yesterday, I received the answers to a set of questions I had sent to a colleague of my daughter’s who’d swum competitively. He was extremely obliging in helping me to create the atmosphere of a top level swimming event. But again it was a chance comment that piqued my interest. Every swimming pool tastes different he said! Wow! I had assumed that one expanse of chlorinated water was the same as another, but apparently not; each pool has its own unique flavour. The scene opened up in my mind: my protagonist leaning over the side as she prepares for her race, scooping up some of the water and splashing it over her mouth. An act of superstition perhaps that characterises her preparation. It’s a memorable anecdote. And I’m sure my scene will be stronger for it.

The value of the throwaway comment. Not minor details at all!