Kathryn Evans is the award-winning author of More of Me, published in the UK in 2016 – and released worldwide in 2017. She won the SCBWI Crystal Kite for UK and Ireland in 2017. She is also the first YA author ever to win the Edinburgh International Book Festival First Book Award. More of Me was nominated for the 2017 Carnegie Medal and several regional awards.
An accomplished public speaker with a background in theatre, Kathryn is a woman who likes to be busy. As well as writing YA, she fences competitively, bellydances for fun and also runs a strawberry farm with her husband. Somehow, she also finds time to volunteer as Co-Regional Advisor for the SCBWI British Isles.
What's so special about writing for you personally? That's changed over the years. I trained as an actor. But I fell in love with a farmer and if you want to be an actor you really need to be prepared to travel, earn not very much money, go wherever the jobs are, and be away for quite a long time, and it's really unsociable hours. We set up a smallholding and it needed both of us to run it, so acting went on hold. But that yearning for me – to create character – never went away. I've always written, always dabbled in writing, ever since I was a tiny child, but the need to create character and tell stories like I did on the stage remained: it's kind of a performance. And certainly when I'm creating characters in stories, I act them out.
So you actually stand up and play the separate parts? Yes. I might play a part to the mirror. More often than not, though, I'll be talking to my dog. And I will have conversations. To see me, you would think that I had absolutely lost it. Particularly the conversations in More of Me between Teva and Fifteen: I acted out both sides because that for me is the best way of hearing how a character is working. So I think writing became a substitute for acting – and then it became an addiction. I've always been a reader:I love books.
How does it feel for you to see your own book on the shelves [like here in this library where we're having this conversation]? The thought of having your book on the shelf, or in the hands of a reader, is so exciting. I’ve just taken a picture of my book on the shelf for Instagram. I will never get tired of seeing my book like that. The most exciting thing, though, is when you see someone reading your book on a train – I can't believe it. It's like I'm in a film and it's not really happening. I don't think that excitement will ever change.
You were writing seriously for a long time before getting published.
Was it fifteen years? Yes. I count from when I first started sending manuscripts away: that's seriously trying to get published. It took me a long time to find what I wanted to write. Initially, it was picture books – I still want to write a picture book, but they're so hard to do. But I read YA and it took me a long time to realise, you idiot, this is what you should be writing. I've got so much to share with that age group. It was a tough time for me growing up as a teenager. It was tough for my daughter and difficult for her friends, too. I think there are so many challenges that young people face and they're so open to new ideas: it's just the perfect place if you're a bit off the wall.
Do you think about writing books as your legacy? I think so. I didn't, but then a friend of mine said to me: 'That's never going to go away. That book will always exist.' As readers have started connecting with me, you realise how engaged they are with the characters. So there's a character in the book called Tommo and all the girls fall in love with him, and I quite often get people saying can you just write a book about him! What that says to me is that people are really connecting with your characters.
Teva's life is a fantasy, but it's a metaphor: for that transitional metamorphosis that all teenagers endure. I was contacted by a young transgender woman – and this makes me want to cry – she said: 'This is what I felt like.' And I had never imagined that when I was writing the book, but it speaks to people who are facing that crisis in their identity, and they don't know where they're going. On some level, that's universal, as you're going through teenage years. And you have to deal with it. When you're a teenager, you can really feel like you're treading a line that you might fall off – you know, like you’re going crazy – so that tension where Teva doesn't really know what's going on – if it's in her mind or in reality – is deliberate. I want the reader to be taken on a journey that feels dangerous and then to have a resolution that everything's going to be alright. Whatever. It might be really dark and difficult, but you will be alright.
As you write, do you go with your gut instinct or do you have to control it all? I do have to know where it's going. I'm not a plotter, as such, but I do have to know where the story's going to end. At the start, I'll definitely have a beginning, I'll definitely have an end, and usually I'll know one or two high points, or scenes, along the way. I'm too lazy to plot. I find it really boring. I would say I'm a 'pantser' [writer who flies by the seat of her pants] who has forced herself to do a little plotting. It's like scaffolding rather than a detailed map. If you don't know where you're going to end up, it just makes too much work. You have to then go back and unpick the story and restructure it.
Like a zero draft, rather than a first draft? Yes, not even a first draft. In fact, I've accidentally done that in my second book. Just because I thought I knew where I was going with it and my editor has come up with some really good ideas, so I've gone back, and her ideas have kicked off other ideas, so I'm having to deconstruct the entire novel... and it's a horrible mess at the minute! But it'll get there. I feel like I've crested the hill and I can see now where it's going.
When you've written a unique book like this as your debut and had such accolades, how do you follow that? Is it a reaction or is it a growth from that story? With More of Me (which was, in fact, the fourth novel I'd written), I found what it is that I do. I'm a massive reader: when I was growing up, I read a lot of classical literature, Jilly Cooper novels, all the sci-fi and a tiny bit of horror (and then I realised I was never going to sleep ever again if I carried on reading Stephen King and James Herbert). But what I've realised is that those books have cooked inside me like a book soup, and that's what I write. I write about relationships, but with a sci-fi twist and a spoonful of horror. So, the second book is just coming out like that. Again, it's quite a high-concept novel, bit of a thriller, but the main theme is not about identity but about family and friendship. It has to have heart for me, otherwise it does not excite me. I want to talk about people, but I want to do that in a book that will have you turning the pages.
You mention 'high-concept' stories. Screenwriter Blake Snyder [in Save the Cat! talks about the importance of being able to pitch your story in one quick line: 'Until you have your pitch, and it grabs me, don't bother with the story.']. That seems harsh, but is that the reality? I'm not sure if I totally agree with that. Some of the loveliest books that I've read are quite quiet books, which would be very hard to pitch in just one sentence. It just happens that surprisingly – and I never plan to do it – that is exactly what I seem to do. The second book is again quite high-concept. I've started writing a third novel, and again, that is pretty high-concept. It's not deliberate, it's just that framework I find thrilling to write within, as long as it's got substance. Having said that, I do think there's something in it, though: if you can't sum up your book in three sentences or less – a minute's pitch – then you probably don't know what it's about. More of Me is a book about identity, within the framework of a girl who replicates herself once a year, and she knows that if she doesn't stop that happening again, she's going to lose her boyfriend, her best friend, her entire future, because she'll be stuck at home with all the previous versions of herself – who are not having a good time, let's face it!
Sounds like you've just nailed the single-line pitch there! How did the seed of your first novel emerge? I was looking at pictures of my children, because my daughter is now grown up, and she'd gone off to university – and I was missing the baby that she was. If you like, I was mourning the baby that she was, and the toddler and the young child, and the twelve-year-old, although of course I adore her as she is now. All those previous versions of her I really missed, and I started to think about myself as a child. I had quite a difficult upbringing: my mum died when I was very young, my dad remarried and I didn't get on with my step-mum at the time. Growing up, things were not easy. In the book, Six is pretty unhappy: and that six-year-old was me. When I look back, it doesn't feel like it was me. I know it is – but it feels like a different version. And that was literally it. What if those previous versions of yourself still existed? So it started with my daughter going off to university, and it ended with this crazy story!
Well is that the heart of it – you Kathy, in there, in the story? Yes, absolutely.
How much did you enjoy writing More of Me? I love writing. I procrastinate, and I don't know why, because I love it. We had a difficult time with our family business a few years ago, and I knew I had to put more energy into the farm than I was putting into writing, so I stopped writing for about six months. And I was so miserable that my family in the end said – pen, paper – please just write, just do it. So I do love writing, but I don't have a lot of time. Some people need to sit down and immerse themselves, but I'm not really like that. Luckily for me, I will skate in, do twenty minutes, skate off, do something else. When you're a mum, and you've kids demanding your attention, dropping off at ballet, or fencing, or rugby, or picking up from detention, you need to be able to do that. I'd take my laptop with me and just write wherever I had time. When I was writing the first novel, my son was doing a lot of swimming, and I used to write by the pool. It would be: this is all you've got, you've got an hour, so crack on with it. Deadlines are really, really good for me. Working in short, intense bursts. I can immerse myself wherever I am – I could sit here and write. Finding time – I don't buy that there's not enough time. There's always time. People say, 'I could do that, I could write a book... I just haven't got time.' I work long hours, fit in all these hobbies, I look after my kids, and my husband, and my dog, elderly parents. You've got time. You just need to make the time. I'm lucky that I can work in this way, writing in short bursts, but maybe that's because I've had to, and I've trained myself to do it.
What about help from others? What's the best piece of advice you've ever received from a writer? That's so easy. When I was first seriously trying to get published, I was writing picture books and I thought I was great at them. I was sending them in to an editor and she was really helpful. She wrote back with positive feedback: she said you're quite funny, you write great characters, but you're not really telling a story. She advised me to join Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI). That person was Natascha Biebow, who was then an editor and now runs a consultancy as well as writing, and that was the best piece of advice I could ever have ever been given. It showed me a completely different side of writing, a professional side, and I learned the craft.
Do you write every day? I try to. If I don't write every day, it means I've just got to go back and re-read and it's just a waste of time, so I try to if I'm working on a book. Editing's a bit different, when you're very familiar with a story, but when I'm actually writing a story, I'm trying to connect with characters. I find that if I don't write every day, it's too hard to leave it and then try and drop in, and out.
Do you tend to go straight on to the next story? Yes. I was a little bit worried when I was writing More of Me that I wouldn't have any more ideas, but what seems to happen is that something else does come up... and you get on with it, and then you'll have another idea... and that's the next book lined up. As soon as I was done with More of Me , I started writing my next story. For my second book (which hasn't got a title yet), when that book is pitched, I think they might pitch it with my third idea, because it's a really strong one. I'm really excited about writing my third book... but I've got to get my second one done first! For me, it's one after the other. I can't not write, it just makes me miserable.
Is there a part of writing that comes more naturally? Character. I love creating characters. I don't find it hard at all – and I love creating complex characters. That's definitely the easiest part for me. I don't formally create a whole character sketch but I quite often find pictures of people that look like my character. What was weird though, was when they showed me the cover of More of Me: that was Teva. I had no picture, except in my head. When that arrived, I thought: that's Teva. That was a shock, because it felt like someone had seen inside my head. Which was kind of weird.
What about people that you borrow from in real life? My first novel is dedicated to 'The Hun Club', who are my daughters' friends from school. They hung about in my house. I love those kids, and they're still a huge part of my daughter's life. In fact, I miss them when they're not there. Those that have read the book might think they’re a certain character but they’re not! I have borrowed traits, but the characters aren't really any one person.
What's the hardest thing for you in writing? Structure. When you're writing a thriller, the pace is so important and I'm not very good at it, so I use Scrivener because it helps me see where things are. If you see the way I write, you'd think I'm really organised, but I have to do it because I'm so not organised. At the moment, the new book is completely deconstructed, the chapters are all in the wrong order, scenes are all over the place, there are scenes that say: 'this needs to be about x', and this scene hasn't even been written... it's a horrible uncomfortable place to be, and I find that really hard.
Does that drive you on, too? It does. I know I've got to get that done to do the fun bit. Which is world building and character! The new book is set a bit in the future, but also in the past. There's lots of relationship stuff because of the switch in time zones... that's all the fun stuff. I like doing chapter endings, too. I think I absorbed them from reading so much – Patrick Ness is a master at it – getting people to want to turn over the page. I'm a bit of a tease. It’s funny, getting structure right is the hardest thing for me, the most laborious thing, but it underpins everything, and if you haven't got it right, it shows.
Do you ever surprise yourself and make a 'mistake', then find out later that it might have been some sort of hidden desire, or something that leads you on an unexpected path? I'm not sure that I would call any of those funny things mistakes. I think the journey of writing is a bit like a windy path, and when you're not a plotter, that's going to happen all the time. I just go with it. What's hard is that sometimes you'll have a great idea that just doesn't work in the story and you have to get rid of it.
Having to kill your darlings? Yes. I'm having to do that at the moment – it's horrible. There's a line in this new book: I might leave it in, but I really shouldn't. It's such a beautiful line, though. My main character looks out at the sea and it's something to do with how the sea picks up the light and dances with it. But I think it's probably going to have to go... She probably wouldn't say that.
You want to say it... Yes, I want to say it, because it's so beautiful, but she probably wouldn't. The worst thing is killing characters, because it does feel horrible. As I've rewritten, I have had to do that. I had this great character, a young kid called Joey – actually he's still in there, I can't quite bring myself to get rid of him – but I think I know he's got to go. Deep down, I know he's not serving any purpose. He's just a great character, but I don't really need him. And I talk about this in schools: if they don't fit into any of these roles, and you don't need them in your story, get rid of them. It's quite hard when it's your own characters.
Sculptors talk about when they have a piece of marble, they are just trying to find the sculpture within it. When I'm writing a story, I quite often feel that I'm peeling off layers, and it will feel like: 'Oh, of course, that's what is supposed to happen, that's why they do that...', as if I have no control over that. As if it's always been there, and I'm just finding it. I know that sounds ridiculous, but genuinely that is how I feel about story. You're smiling because you feel the same way.
Yes. It seems like it's the subconscious mind, and you're just allowing it to... ...to flourish. I think that's true. Being able to let that go, and access that deep part of yourself is what makes writing move you. When I was writing the character of Six [in More of Me] I was sitting there – it's making me want to cry now, thinking about writing those scenes – but if you don't do that, and let yourself go into those places that you don't like to think about, you can't write those things honestly.
Uncovering those deep emotional wells can work as therapy for the writer, but does that guarantee that this is going to work on the page? It doesn't, but it probably means that someone else will also find it sad, or funny, or whatever. If it moves you, as you write it, the chances are that it will move somebody else. When I saw the cover for the US edition of my first novel, they've used a quote on the back and I read the blurb and I thought: 'Oh, that's really good, who wrote that?' And it was taken from the book – I'd written it! I thought you can do this stuff, you can do this.
You say that as if that's a surprise to you. Do you ever think, as you write, 'that's terrible, that's so bad... why don't I give up now?' (I'm not suggesting that you do, obviously.) Yes, there's still so much doubt. The reviews that stick in your mind are the awful ones. Out of loads of really positive reviews, I had two bad ones. One of them was glowing about the plot, structure and the writing, but he came to the end and said, ultimately what was the point of this book? It just tore me apart. The other was like: Meh? Scientist father. Lame. That was months ago, and yet I feel like I want to justify it. I suppose it rankles because, as a writer, you do constantly doubt yourself, and think: Are they right? Is that true? I don't think that feeling will ever go away, and maybe that keeps you on your toes. And also your editor saying to you that this has got to be better than your first book.
Do you listen to music when you write? No, I don't when I'm writing. But I do listen to music to get me in the mood. Coldplay is great if you need to be sad. I listen to Eminem if I'm doing something that's a bit fighty. I love music. I'm a massive festival-goer, we go to Glastonbury every year. I use music to get me in the right frame of mind for writing. Although I'm quite good at shutting myself off from the world when I'm writing, music does something to you and makes you feel a certain way. I can't trust music in the background not to lead me somewhere I don't want to go.
What are you most proud of? The reason I wrote the More of Me book – obviously I wanted to be published – was because I thought it might matter to someone who was struggling with identity issues. The fact that I have quite a lot of people contacting me for very different reasons spoke to me. That is the thing that I'm most proud of: people picking up that book and connecting with it. Also there was a young girl in my village, whose mum had bought the book, and she'd had a bit of a rough time at school. She sent me a message and said she'd only read my book because her mum had bought it, and she felt guilty. But having picked it up, she couldn't put it down. She took it to school, she'd had a really bad day, but she said she didn't care because she could read about Teva. She said: 'I was in her world'. She said that I'd made her want to read again. There's nothing better for a writer than hearing that.
Do you feel that when you're doing school visits, even if it's not your book they read, you might be encouraging some reluctant readers to pick up a book? I think that's probably true. I did a school event on World Book Day recently and there were two girls in the canteen with their noses in my book. They're probably bookworms anyway, but you just don't know. You sow seeds. It'll be great if people did.
The fact that you've succeeded, and got your novel published – after such a long time – was that a surprise to you? It was a relief. Yes, because it had been so long. And because you have to make time for writing, and it always felt like I was taking that from my family and my work. In the end, it was a validation that it was worth the effort. I think that a lot of people had assumed that I would never be published – that it was just a day dream – so, yes, it was a validation and a relief.
Was that a worry to you before you got published? Did you think I've got to be selfish, but am I being too selfish? Is this egotistical of me to pursue this dream? I think that's the curse of anyone who wants to do something like this, particularly if you've got kids. But I had to do this. Also, within ten years, I'd got an agent but it took another five years to place the book: Sophie Hicks, who is a great agent, had been putting all that effort into finding me a publisher, for nothing. She earns nothing until she sells the book. She never gave up on me. Even when I was flagging, she would say: 'It's going to happen'. Her belief in me meant that I couldn't jack it in. There was no way. In fact I did go and see her at one point with that in mind, and she persuaded me not to. I still feel like I owe her. I think I'll feel like that until my dying day. She's been amazing.
You're a keen fencer, aren't you? Are you a competitive person? I would have said no, but I am. While I think 'I'm all lovely', and I will support people, even other writers, I am competitive. I fence competitively. I want to win. I don't give up. Some people are competitive but can't face losing. That's not me. I will pick myself up and just keep going. In a way, maybe the competition's with myself more than it is with other people. I love people and I want everyone do their best. I know this sounds trite, but it is true. I want to help my friends at SCBWI, even people I don't know in the group, to do the best that they can and have every chance of success, yet I suppose those writers are going to be my competitors on the bookshelf. But they're not, because they're my colleagues and my friends. Certainly with my friends on the Lost and Found tour [Patrice Lawrence, Eugene Lambert, Sue Wallman and Olivia Levez], you could be jealous... Patrice, for example, has done fantastically well with Costa shortlisting and YA Book Prize shortlisting [for Orangeboy], but what would be the point in that? She's written a brilliant book and it's serving a fantastic audience, and she's just lovely. Far better for us all to try and raise the whole game ourselves. So I think I am competitive in some ways, but it's much more in my nature to try and support others. In the past, I have been asked to do an event and I've suggested that another writer might be better: so I then miss out, but I also think that it all comes around. It's a long, long road, and when you're trying to get published it's a much nicer place to be when you're supporting each other. It's no different, really, when you're published. I don't feel that I've got to nudge everyone else off the bookshelf, just to have a bookshelf full of me!
Kathy's website: www.kathrynevans.ink Usborne Publishing: https://usborne.com
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