|
NICOLA MORGAN
Most authors have two jobs – writing, and the
career that pays the bills – but Nicola Morgan
has three or four. You may know her as the dynamic
lecturer and author of the best-selling Blame My Brain,
who will visit schools to inform us about the vagaries
of the teenaged brain. You may also know her as the
writer of over fifty Magic Readers books for nursery
age children, in Egmont’s I Can Learn series.
Alternatively, you may have the good luck to encounter
her through her prize-winning historical fiction for
11+, which include The Highwayman’s Footsteps
and The Highwayman’s Curse. Inspired by Alfred
Noyes’s famous poem about the doomed love between
a highwayman and Bess, the innkeeper’s daughter
these are gripping, gorgeously-written tales of high
adventure in the wilds of eighteenth century England
and Scotland. Such is their assurance of tone and narrative
that it’s a surprise to discover that it took
Morgan, 46, twenty-one years to break into being the
published author of fiction.
“I’d thought – and I’m so
ashamed of it – that to write for children you
would have to do a simple story in simple language,” she
says. “When I realised you could do deep things
in interesting ways, it was a liberating moment.”
The turning point for her was reading David Almond’s
Skellig, which one of her two teenaged daughters pressed
on her while on holiday. She was amazed, and realised
that the “pretentious, arty, plotless literary
fiction” she’d been trying to write for
adults, was rubbish. Mondays Are Red, about a teenager
who wakes from a coma to discover he has synaesthesia
(the condition in which words have colours) followed,
and was immediately accepted.
“Before, I was writing for myself, not writing
for readers,” she observes. “Many writers
say you should only write for yourself, but I disagree.
On one level, your heart has to be in it, but if you’re
writing for children, it’s for the reader to
enjoy. I believe reading should be for pleasure.”
Morgan is indeed a pleasure to read, for her prose
and for her plots. Personally, I was so traumatised
by Fleshmarket, about a boy trying to get over his
mother’s mastectomy without anaesthetic in 19th
century Edinburgh, that I couldn’t carry on after
the first chapter- but kids love it, and it became
her breakthrough novel, winning prizes.
The daughter of two teachers, she grew up in a succession
of boys’ schools as a tomboy (her heroine Bess’s
pistol-packing skills in the Highwayman books stem
from this, though she claims to lack her physical courage)
and suffered from lack of confidence even when she
got into Cambridge to read Classics. She knew she wanted
to write, and desperately wanted to avoid becoming
a teacher in her turn but, after university, found
herself doing it to earn a living. Her training in
teaching dyslexics was what led her to become a literacy
expert fascinated by the human brain, and she now gets
a “tremendous buzz” out of visiting schools.
In person, she is an intriguing mix of a highly disciplined,
forensic intelligence and the passionate creativity
which makes her characters so engaging. Despite continuing
to switch between careers, she is a born story-teller
of that special breed to which Leon Garfield, Rosemary
Sutcliffe and Sally Gardner belong, who makes a historical
setting as vivid as our own.
To have persisted writing fiction despite twenty-one
years of rejection and drudgery is an indication of
her determination in the teeth of doubts and uncertainties.
Perhaps it is this, as well as her school visits, which
makes her understand how difficult life is for modern
teenagers.
“You can define a teenager in two ways,” she
says. “One is universal to all cultures and generations,
which is that it’s a state of life in which you’re
not a child and not an adult. There are special circumstances,
such as living through a war, which can make that transition
much faster, but you still have the teenaged brain,
and anyone who can remember that time will remember
that anger and heightened emotions are a part of it.
“The other is what’s going on now with
teenagers. Exams are putting them through huge stress
and unintentional pressure, at a time when they are
looking ahead towards independence in hope, anticipation
and fear. They know that no matter how hard they try,
if they don’t pass certain exams they’ll
have a life that’s less good, and the competition
for this has simultaneously become tougher, so that
some will fail.”
Morgan is fascinated by this tension between permission
and oppression, and two of her novels – Sleepwalking
and The Passion Flower Massacre – are about brain-washing,
either through a futuristic chip implanted in teenager’s
brains, or by the use of drugs in a religious cult.
More subtly, The Highwayman’s Footsteps and The
Highwayman’s Curse examine the conflict between
citizens and outsiders in the 1760s. Gentle, sensitive,
high-born Will flees across the Yorkshire moors from
his harsh father and cruel brother to find Bess (daughter
of the original Bess and Highwayman in Noyes’s
poem), wounded and desperate, holding him at pistol
point. Both suffer from the fear of failing to live
up to parental expectations, and in the second book
there is the added burden of anger passing down generations
which comes to a terrific climax as they race to rescue
an innocent girl chained to a rock with the boiling
tide coming in.
Each novel uses a genuine historical crisis – the
Hexham riots in the first, and the Wigtown Martyrs
in the second – to illuminate the character’s
lives and choices. A longed-for third in the Highwayman
series is brewing, in which the nascent love between
Will and Bess may at last find expression, but in the
meantime it has everything a young reader (especially
boys) wants, from short chapters to the kind of enjoyment
that comes from encountering characters you care about,
and recognise.
“The 18th century is the perfect combination
of the horrible and the modern,” Morgan says. “It’s
dark and rich in gruesomeness, but you know that the
Enlightenment is coming.”
The Highwayman’s Curse by Nicola Morgan is published
by Walker Books £6.99
|