The box of delights (From The Northern Echo)

The box of delights

2:26pm Wednesday 23rd September 2009

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Bishop Auckland writer explains the inspiration behind her new novel, The Woman Who Drew Buildings

MY new novel The Woman Who Drew Buildings is dedicated to "the exceptional and inspirational Mary Davies - painter, writer and healer".

I first met Mary ten or so years ago at a workshop I was running in Hexham. She was the oldest person in the group and the most dynamic - responding to ideas, writing fresh material at the drop of a hat, quoting from her considerable reading and showing us her own self published books on meditation and reincarnation.

We became correspondents and friends.

I once visited her in her home on the Isle of Arran to be regressed into a past life. In the process I learned of her own life. Trained in art, she finally emerged as an expert in the listing of historic buildings, initially under the wing of the architectural guru Niklaus Pevsner, then to work for British Heritage doing detailed work all over the North to save historical buildings from demolition.

Mary has always been a spiritual person. Moving from more conventional churches to become a Quaker, she later incorporated those ideals into a Buddhist way of life. Now, she tells me, she is taking an interest in the Baha'i faith. "They are young people, happy people with high ethical standards and an open-minded and universal outlook on the world and humanity," she tells me. At 87, she is still on a quest.

Seven years ago - travelling by boat and three trains.- she turned up at one of my book launches with carrier bags full of boxes and books. In them were films, slides, photos, drawing books, notebooks, diaries, travel documents from journeys she made in Poland in the early 1980s.

A true box of delights for any writer.

"What do you want me to do with this?" I asked.

She waved a hand. "Anything, dear. Do what you like with them."

I was anxious: "Interesting as you are, Mary, I can't write your biography. I write novels."

"That's what I mean dear. Write anything you like."

It took me six years to get to grips with the fascinating material from the box of delights. The central problem was how to weave this wonderfully unique material into a story that worked on every level but did not lean on, or steal, Mary's own narrative. But Mary knew from my novels how I was interested in the idiosyncrasies of letters, notebooks, images and ephemera that I used to inspire my novels. I was, she insisted, to use them as I wished. We had long talks about her experiences and the dilemma of using this material as inspiration, for what I knew would be - in fact - pure fiction.

Fact into pure fiction is a long, complicated process.

Occasionally Mary would give me a gentle prod. "I was wondering how the Polish Novel coming on...?" she would write, or email.

Well, the Polish Novel is now finally published.

I sent the first copy to Mary and waited nervously for her reaction. What if she hated it? What if she thought I had betrayed the secrets of her box of delights?

In a week I had an email.

Dear Wendy, I'm not surprised that everybody loves the book. I am now in the middle of its second reading and enjoying again every minute of it. The story is intriguing, the characters credible and likeable and the writing first-class, as usual. You've also managed to capture the atmosphere of that part of Poland at the time; it brings back such memories!

You can imagine my delight, and relief.

The extract below, from the novel, describes the moment when Adam, the estranged son of Marie Matheve (who has problems of his own) comes upon just such a cache of materials, as his mother lies in a coma in hospital: ...Adam's eye moved to the wardrobe and the pile of boxes above it. Now this he could disturb. He climbed on the dressing stool and started to pull down the boxes. He worked swiftly and as he worked his spirit lifted. He started to drop the boxes so their contents spilled on the polished floor - books, notebooks, papers, brochures, travel documents, bundles of clothes, bright scarves, packets of photos, sheaves of drawings in a disorganised pile....

... he took a second bottle of wine from the fridge, took a new notebook from the pile in her bottom left desk drawer, came back and began to make a careful list of the things that had spilled out of the boxes. His face was burning with wine drunk too fast, his brain was racing, his hand was shaking, but one by one he began to list the items from the brown cardboard box.

I had this big party at home to celebrate the launch of The Woman Who Drew Buildings. By seven o'clock more than 70 people are through the door - chatting, talking and filling the rooms and the hallway with wonderful life. But no Mary! She was too fragile to make the journey. "Life is good, but I sometimes weary of the burden of carrying my body around..."

But when people crowded into one room to hear me say my few words at the launch, I told them about Mary and how she had been the inspiration for the novel. So she was there in her very considerable spirit.

And she was also there on the screen of my laptop with her latest email, sent that morning: Just a little message to wish you a happy and successful launch tonight. May the book reach very many people and enrich their lives. With warmest good wishes, and love, Mary.

• The Woman Who Drew Buildings (Headline, ISBN 978-0-7553-3380-6)
Lots about the novel and the party on Wendy’s weblog: lifetwicetasted.blogspot.com

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