The character of Fern came first, right at the very beginning, and I thought of her a bit differently then – in fact I thought I might write her into a children’s book. I wrote a scene, very early on, where she is talking about ruins and nettles, how nettles grow where people have once lived, and that scene stayed in the book, edited but essentially unchanged.
I think when you start writing, you’re pulling a lot off the shelf, following a lot of trails – and then, quite suddenly, themes and images and places start to converge and then you know you're onto something; you know you’ve hit a seam. Like many writers, I expect, I have a magpie-like approach at first – sound archives, traditional tales, news stories, poems, memoirs, testimonies … I really like looking at old photographs. I collect them on my wall when I’m writing, so they stare down at me as I write new lives for them.
Your multilayered novel is narrated by several characters, and is set over many years – how did you plot all the individual narrative threads so effectively, and which character did you identify with the most?
I started off with a big family tree and I think the stories flowed from there. The characters quickly became very real to me – if they didn’t, they didn’t get to stay. Some of the stories seemed to almost write themselves, some took more work to piece together. I have a real tenderness for Donnie MacArthur.
And Now the Light is Everywhere is by turns sweeping and intimate, showing the myriad repercussions of secrets concealed and later divulged. Which parts of the novel did you find the most difficult to write, and is the final version what you imagined it would be?
I think the challenge that most exercised me lay in crafting Anna’s story, because she is the one finding out about the past – what does she know, how does she find out, what pieces of the puzzle does she put together, and what can she never know, but the privileged reader can?