Un'intervista a un romanziere sul secondo libro

Hannah: My guest today is Desmond Calloway, whose first novel, The Salt Road, sold more copies than anyone expected, including, I gather, the publisher. Desmond, thank you for coming. Your second book is out next month, and I'm sure you're thrilled.

Desmond: Thrilled is a strong word, but I'm certainly awake, which at this stage of a book tour is an achievement. It's a pleasure to be here.

Hannah: Critics have already been comparing the new book with The Salt Road. Does that bother you?

Desmond: Not at all. I've learned to admire the stamina of people who compare a book they haven't read with one they read years ago. It must be exhausting. If I'm honest, I wrote the second one largely to find out whether I could. The first, as you know, was written in a rented room above a bakery, with no expectations whatsoever, and that is a condition one can only experience once.

Hannah: So the success changed how you write?

Desmond: It changed who I imagined was reading over my shoulder. For the first book, nobody was. For the second, there was a small committee, and, rather unhelpfully, they all had opinions about adverbs. I spent eight months arguing with people who didn't exist, and I lost most of the arguments.

Hannah: The new book is set in a mountain observatory. Was that a conscious move away from the coast?

Desmond: Conscious is generous. I'd been told that I was a writer of the sea, and I found I couldn't bear the label, so I went as far from water as I could manage. Whether that is courage or sulking, I'll leave to the reviewers, who will no doubt tell me anyway.

Hannah: Do you read your reviews?

Desmond: I read the good ones twice and the bad ones once, which is, I believe, the only sensible policy. Although I confess that the one bad review I remember word for word described my prose as tastefully empty. I considered having it printed on a cushion.

Hannah: You've said before that the title came last. Was that true for this book too?

Desmond: The title arrived in a taxi, three days before the deadline, courtesy of a stranger's telephone conversation, and I have never been so grateful to anyone I will never meet. For most of the process the working title was Book Two, which tells you how confident I was.

Hannah: What do you do when the writing stops going well?

Desmond: I tidy. My flat has never been so clean as during the second book. If you ever want evidence of a troubled manuscript, inspect the skirting boards.

Hannah: People say the first novel is largely autobiographical.

Desmond: People say a great many things. The narrator has my height and my fear of ferries, and everything else I invented, mostly out of spite.

Hannah: And will there be a third book?

Desmond: My editor believes so, and she's usually right, which is one of her more tiresome qualities. Ask me again after I've slept.

Hannah: We'll hold you to that. Desmond Calloway, thank you.