Some time ago, more years than I care to admit to, after a break-up, I relocated to another part of London. It was odd feeling like a stranger in my own town and I suppose this was the starting point of Annie’s journey. But apart from that, Annie, as I was writing, became resolutely her own person.
My first holiday job was working in the Louvre in Paris, followed by stints at an art dealers and then a career in the BBC’s Music and Arts department. To set a novel in this world which I know and love and which has so many larger than life characters and settings, seemed obvious.
I have always wanted pictures to talk, to tell the viewer about who painted them and what they witnessed. The painting I would most like to hear chatter is Velasquez’s ‘Las Meninas’. There are so many disparate people in one canvas and no one has fully explained the mysterious composition.
For lots of reasons – to escape; to dream; to make sense of the world and to have fun.
I love Jane Austen for creating whole worlds in small places. Nancy Mitford for her scatter-gun humour. Elena Ferrante for shining a spotlight on female friendship. Dorothy Kearns Goodwin for making history thrilling. Janet Malcom for subverting everyday stories. Maya Angelou for her fierceness. Dorothy Parker for her pithiness. And that is just one small section of a very large bookshelf of heroines.
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