FAQ
How old are you?
Imagine being born into a world without reality TV, or any television, no PCs, video games, email, www, mobile phones, cds, ipods, lasers, nuclear power, passenger jet planes, no genetic engineering, nanotechnology, robotics, no transplant surgery, antibiotics, kidney machines, artificial hearts, no photocopiers, liquid paper, multiplex cinemas, digital wrist watches, microwave ovens, humans in space stations … and no words yet in the new language of LOL and OMG.
Anyway, if you can believe anybody can be that old, I was born at Port Pirie, South Australia, in February, 1942. The day Darwin was bombed. My father came home with a gun to defend Mum and us kids from an invading army. Out in the harbor, no ships could leave because the yellow flag was flying. Smallpox. It’s a
disease that has been wiped out now, they say.
As soon as I could crawl, I set off across our backyard and ate fistfuls of dirt which was yummy with all the nice metals like lead and zinc from the smelters, which might explain quite a lot about me. I still have the scar from my smallpox needle. And I do remember a train going down the main street, past a Punch and Judy puppet show which I watched in rapture as Mr. Punch bopped the heads of policemen, judges, juries, the hangman, and even the Devil.
Where do you live?
In a cottage in the Adelaide Hills. I sit in our beautiful garden with my amazing wife,
Christine Harris. We write books and drink wine, which partly explains other things about me.
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Do you have any children?
In order of age, because to have a favorite means DEATH. Susan, Paul, Andrew, Sam, Jenny. They continue to inspire, surprise and sustain me. They are the heroes in many of my books.
What is your favorite book?
That I wrote? Out loud, I always say it’s the one I’m writing now. To admit a favorite means THE OTHER BOOKS WILL SEEK VENGEANCE,
because, as a famous writer, Umberto Eco warned, stories talk to each other in our sleep and, sometimes, those dreams escape into our world.
A favorite book that somebody else wrote?
Hundreds, for thousands of different reasons. I read about six to ten completely different books at the same time, and maybe finish none. This month my favourite is
The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Graham, which I’ve been reading to Christine at bedtime. Toad is one of my all-time favourite people. I hate the way, at the end
of the book, the author forces Toad to give up his reckless ways and be humble, respectful of authority, and moderate in manners. Kenneth Graham wrote the book to teach his son to be like sensible Mole. Ugh. Mole wasn’t all that sensible anyway. Naturally, his son wanted to be like Toad.
Where do you get your ideas?
Sometimes, other people ask me to write books I’d never think of.
Usually I don’t get the ideas. The ideas get me.
Buzzing, booming, wonderful mysteries and surprises of everyday life swarm around us like a cloud filled with ideas for stories. Every so often, an idea bites me. Which come instantly to mind? The javelin thrower with no belly-button; the cook whose last two husbands died of her gravy; the woman who puts her pet python in the fridge then wears it around her neck as costume jewellery and people lean close to admire it, but the heat of her body wakes up the snake and it lunges at them – hiss, shriek. The ten-year old boy from Sudan who said to me, ‘My mother gave me the last bit of bread, put my father’s coat on me and told me to walk across five countries of Africa and find my uncle who might help me get to Australia. My village is in a war. I don’t know if my mother is alive. She doesn’t know if I found
my uncle.’
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Where do you write?
I’ve written in a plane over the Black Sea, a room in Istanbul while a huge bear stared hungrily at me through the window, a slum in India where a six-year old girl with leprosy sold me a feather. And I’ve scribbled in newspaper offices, corporate boardrooms, on a mountaintop on the Silk Road, ferries, hotel
rooms, TV studios, in a Chinese train, cafes, schools, government offices, in a morgue, a cathedral, and on the rim of a volcano with molten rocks flying over our heads to land thudthud while Christine said, ‘I need just a few more photos.’
Do you use a pen or computer?
Both. I prefer to think with pen or pencil in the early, chaotic stages of writing. And for drawing maps. The computer is great for the fast, messy first
draft; and subsequent rewrites and revisions.
How long have you been a writer?
My first book,
Facets, McGraw-Hill, 1972, was a text book for senior secondary schools. Then I wrote a collection of short stories,
The Carclew Ghost and other stories, 1976, McGraw-Hill. My first novel was awful and unpublished, but it showed me how much I didn’t know about writing. So I made myself begin to learn the craft and I was lucky to have some brilliant editors. Whenever I re-write drafts, I feel like a real writer.
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Why did you become a writer?
Because I was bursting with ideas and hopes, and when I was in Year 10 at school, my English Teacher, nicknamed Dog, asked me to copy out my stories and essays for him in a special exercise book. He presented it to me at the end of the year and said I had some talent, even though I failed almost half my subjects. Maybe that’s when I became a writer, when a teacher believed in me.
Also, I quickly learnt that writing sent me on thrilling journeys of discovery.
Why do you write books like Time Raiders?
I fell in love with archeology when I saw my first Egyptian mummy. I’m fascinated by the past, which is filled with real lives and true lies.
Time Raiders are about people with fabulous dreams that take them into extreme and wonderful places.
What if it’s just you, real you, up against incredible difficulties and dangers? R.L. Stevenson, who wrote
Treasure Island,
Kidnapped and other books I read and reread when I was young, said that if you’re confronted with great fear and danger all you need are imagination and courage. That’s a good description of adventure books. And the adventure of writing.
I’m writing
Time Raiders because fiction, inspired by history, liberates me to tell the truth.
Time Raiders are about imaginative possibilities within us and life.
My
Cliffhanger Series, is crammed with the true history of my real-life experiences - especially my childhood - and also the adventures of my children. They boast of surviving all my attempts to kill them on cliffs, in deserts, under king waves, in storms, caves, on rope swings across rivers and other minor hazards which they scandalously exaggerate.
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How long does it take to write a book?
Anywhere between three months and seven years. In fact, all my life goes into every book. But my speed of writing, in a good year, is about 80,000 words of publishable quality. I throw out at least 75% of the first draft, and need at least three major rewrites of every book. I probably write about 200 zillion words a year.
What do you enjoy about writing?
The sheer fun and terror when the people in my books begin to speak and come alive. The brutal hard work of getting it right. The indulgent time of research. Homesickness for places not yet seen. Fabulous people I meet along the way. The surprises and wonderful worlds of imagination.
The law of unexpected consequences - when a choice leads us into entirely unpredictable places in life and our books.
Writing is like setting out on a journey into the unknown. It’s imagining things I can’t do, then having a go.
I suppose any journey is worth it when the person who sets out is not the one who returns.
What was your first expedition?
Dad was in the railways and we’d moved to Port Augusta when I was four. The moment I saw the tricycle under the Christmas tree, I was under its spell. The paint was sparkly red, ribbons dangled from black handgrips that were as thick as a motorbike’s, the pedals had little teeth for a good grip, and there was a tray at the back for my provisions. The tricycle called and I had to obey.
I smothered a Weet-Bix in butter and brown sugar, wrapped it up and put it in the tray. Then I rode away, pedalling madly, my head thrust low between the handlebars, elbows up. Past the railway yards, I sped over the bridge that crossed Spencer Gulf, bravely entered the wild badlands of Port Augusta West where the tough Grantham boys lived and went beyond, heading north, into a desert I’d only seen way out on the horizon.
A man, walking beside the road, grabbed the handlebars and said, ‘Whoa. Where are you off to Sonny Jim? You’d better skedaddle off home.’ I saw how far away Port Augusta was and began to cry, hoping I wouldn’t get a smack from Mum if I got home already tearful.
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The author in disguise on a research trip.
Top Ten Tips for Writers
Read more about David Harris' tips:
Writers-bitz Blog
Do Writers Need Lucky Charms?
Take a look at David's
writing charms
Now my FAQ for you to answer...
- Are you fire or ice? Why? (Both are good and beautiful.)
- What are four things that make your blood boil with anger? (Don’t include the songs your Mum sings, or your father’s hairstyle. They’re too awful to even think about. But Think Big Issues too.)
- What is your greatest strength? (Is it also a weakness?)
- When did life take you completely by surprise?
- What is your best childhood memory?
- What is, or has been, your weirdest relationship? (Permissible, but slightly embarrassing answers may include invisible friends, and baby blankets called Blanky, which are sucked to shreds in one corner.)
- What is something you must never lose, or life would be hopeless?
- What are three fantastic things you must do before you die or you’ll be so angry with yourself if you die without having tried to do them?
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