Frances Hardinge was born and grew up in Kent, England. From the age of four she dreamed about being a writer. Frances studied at Oxford University and was the founder member of a writers’ workshop there. Her writing career was launched after she won a short story competition. Shortly after winning she wrote Fly by Night  which won the Branford Boase Award.

On Friday 2nd May 2008, Frances particpated in a live forum on the Write Away website, answering questions put by readers. This edited version is reordered for reading ease.

Mat Tobin: How did you go about creating your first novel from start to finish? How long did the process take?

Frances Hardinge: Writing my first novel was quite scary since I'd mainly written short stories up to that point, and the imaginary tower of unwritten pages gave me a kind of vertigo. So I created a chapter by chapter outline, and then when I started writing I treated each chapter a little as if it was a short story. After a while I built some momentum, and the flow of the narrative took over. Finishing the first draft of the book took me about a year, because I was working full time as a technical author and graphic designer, and writing in my spare moments.

Mat Tobin: How did you go about finding an agent? What route did you take? Did you hand over the whole novel or just the first few chapters? Must have been nerve-wracking!

Frances Hardinge: I didn't get an agent until after my first book had been accepted and I had started on my second. Some friends of mine kindly recommended some agents that they thought might be interested in taking on more authors, and then I sent a handful of them the first five chapters of my book, along with a covering letter. Yes, very nerve-wracking! Nancy Miles wrote back giving me lots of very useful feedback, and said that she would be interested in seeing the rest of the novel when it was written. She is now my agent and does a wonderful job of keeping me sane.

Carolyn Swain: Throughout my childhood, I fed myself on tales of myth and magic, and I've still got a taste for them. I loved The Weirdstone of Brisingamen in particular. Which stories or books were important to you as a child?

Frances Hardinge: I'm really glad to hear that you enjoyed Fly by Night and Verdigris Deep. I'm also a fan of Alan Garner - Elidor made a big impression on me at a young age. Other favourites include Nicholas Fisk, Susan Cooper, Leon Garfield and Richard Adams. I also had a soft spot for Treasure Island and the Sherlock Holmes stories.

Ann Coburn: I've always enjoyed fantasy, both as a reader and a writer. Judging by the news from Bologna and London this year, fantasy is out of favour and everyone's looking for horror or historical fiction. What do you think? Is this of the same ilk as the old 'reading is dead' chestnut or does the glut of fantasy on the market suggest otherwise?

Frances Hardinge: Although I'm not an expert on the industry, I suspect demand for certain genre is more likely to fluctuate drastically in publishing circles than it is amongst the public themselves. My own opinion is that fantasy is fairly robust as a genre, and likely to survive. At least I certainly hope so.

Nikki Gamble The popularity of fantasy seems to go in cycles and it has been observed that it is especially strong in times of austerity. Do you think there's some truth in that?

Frances Hardinge: I think it is, for the same reason that escapist films are popular in times of war. Fantasy remains eternally useful not only as an escape, but as an encoded way of understanding and dealing with things that one does not want to look at directly.

Nikki Gamble: So how does that apply to your fantasy fiction? Metaphor or escape?

Frances Hardinge: A bit of both. My books are designed to be yarns, rather than a topical manifesto disguised as children's books, but they do reflect real life aspects of the world that are of concern to me.

Carolyn Swain: The world you have created in Fly by Night is complex and vivid. I especially enjoyed the touches like the Goodmans, which kept reminding me that although the world seemed familiar, it was also different to our world. When you were writing, did you see The Realm in your head as a complete piece, or did it change as you wrote?

Frances Hardinge: The Realm underwent a number of revolutions and changes in my imagination during the initial planning stage, but by the time I'd actually settled down to writing the book I pretty much knew how it all worked. This didn't stop the actual passage of the story occasionally turning up some surprises for me, of course.

Darren Coult: Clearly Mosca's world has much in common with a post-Civil War Britain, and I wondered what attracted you to that period? How did you decide what to make similar and where to depart into fantasy?

Frances Hardinge: I think the main appeal of the era is that it's a period in flux, a time when a good deal that had been taken for granted for centuries had been overturned, so that the country was still finding its feet. Nothing could be taken for granted any more, and everything could be challenged, if you didn't mind the risk. The period is appealing because of its mixture of vitality, danger, cynicism, intellectual and social advances, ebullience, irreverence, skulduggery and change.

 In the real world, the Civil War was the point at which rigid governmental control over the number and activity of the printing presses collapsed, and never really recovered. I was fascinated by the idea of imagining a world in which the genie _had_ been forced back into the bottle, and the presses had been brought back under control. I'd decided to base the world of Fly by Night very roughly on England in about 1710 just as a general guideline, but I decided that some forms of technology wouldn't have developed as quickly as in the real world, because the fragmentation of the country would mean that scientists couldn't meet and compare notes so easily, and it would be harder for them to circulate their ideas in print.

But this isn't a historical novel, and I was willing to pull in things from a different period if they didn't jar too badly and if they appealed to my sense of humour. The kite-propulsion of the coffee-houses was actually inspired by a kite-drawn carriage someone invented during the nineteenth century, but I decided to include it because, well, it seemed fun...

David Reedy: I have been really enjoying Fly by Night and in particular the names of your characters and places. I suspect you took great delight in making them up!

Frances Hardinge: Yes, I do take a certain glee when it comes to inventing names, possibly as a result of having read too much Dickens when I was young. It was particularly fun in Fly by Night since I had an excuse for including names which were (a) absurd and (b) had layers of meaning in them.

Pam Lewis: I loved Fly By Night and especially the character of Mosca. Do you have any plans to write a further adventure with Mosca, Clent and of course Saracen? There was a hint at the end of the book when Mosca says 'I don't want a happy ending, I want more story' I say hear, hear to that!

Frances Hardinge: I'm glad to say that Mosca, Clent and Saracen will definitely ride again. I'm currently working on another stand alone novel, but after that I will be writing a sequel for Fly by Night. Glad you enjoyed it!

David Grugeon: Why did you chose to move your imaginary world into a contemporary setting for your second book, Verdigris Deep?

Frances Hardinge: One reason for giving my second book a contemporary setting was that I wanted to write something very different from Fly by Night. This was partly to show that I could, and partly because when I'm in the latter stages of writing something I tend to fall severely out of love with it, so that I want to write something as different as possible afterwards.

Annie Williams: Verdigris is a residue found on old copper when it has been exposed to the elements. How did you  choose this word for your title? What connection was made first? I can obviously see the connection to the coins but how did you make the connection with the word. I am intrigued as to how authors create their titles.

Frances Hardinge: Originally, 'verdigris' wasn't part of the title at all. The working title was 'Penny's Worth'. However, the publishing company didn't like it, so we threw around some titles, and eventually decided on this one. I've always like the word verdigris, partly just for the sound of it, but it also seemed apt. After all, it's an attractive word describing an attractive sheen that is actually nothing but tarnish, which seemed appropriate for a book about wishes, where not all that seems attractive is healthy or benign.

Luke Slater Having just finished Verdigris Deep, I was wondering about the three children. Obviously Ryan is your viewpoint character, but then he's also the sort of middle ground. Chelle is perhaps the 'best' of the three in abstract terms, but not exactly a dashing figure. And while Josh is not exactly an admirable character, many teachers and other authority figures probably recognise elements of his controlling character in their past. So the question is: Which of the three do you most closely associate with, either in remembering your childhood self or considering the way you see yourself now.

Frances Hardinge: Predictably, there's a certain amount of me in each of the three protagonists. Josh probably contains a certain amount of my anger, Chelle reflects some of my scattiness and self doubt. When I was young, however, I suspect I was most like Ryan, complete with his tendency to worry and over-analyse. Irresponsibility and spontaneity are skills which I've had to develop since becoming an adult.

Althea Samuels: I am intrigued by Ryan's alternative existence that is running along side our reality and the subtle way you manage to suggest that he is altering. What lead you to use the recurring dream of the Glass House?

Frances Hardinge: I wanted to provide an example of Ryan's way of seeing the world differently, and one that showed something of his personality. He was continually concerned about the fragility of his home environment, the sense that things could be ruptured by saying or doing the wrong thing, but I also liked the idea of glass as a transparent medium, so that one could see through the everyday to the strangeness beyond.

Nikki Gamble: One of the things that you capture so well in Verdigris Deep is the spirit of place. How important are places to you?

Frances Hardinge: I do tend to pick up on the atmosphere of places, even though my spatial awareness is appalling and I get lost all the time. I'm fascinated by places that have fallen between the cracks, like Magwhite in Verdigris Deep, or areas where decay or neglect have left their own patina. Somehow renowned and popular sites end up looking a little flat, as if being photographed repeatedly has whittled away their soul.

Nikki Gamble: Is there a special place that you have not yet written about but is begging to have 'its story' told?

Yes. Lots. Every time I go travelling I come back with entire lists of them.

Nikki Gamble: Travelling is obviously important to you... where have you been most recently?

Frances Hardinge: My most recent trip abroad was actually a fairly short distance - a little holiday in Prague.

Nikki Gamble: And which destination is the top of your wish list?

Frances Hardinge: My wish list is actually rather long, but I think Mexico, China, Russia and Peru are all fairly near the top. Though I'd also like to visit Eastern Europe again.

Nikki Gamble: Are you able to tell us something about the novel you are writing at the moment? Verdigris Deep is more traditional in style and perhaps more accessible to younger readers. Is the new novel along similar lines or a return to the very distinctive style and voice of Fly by Night?

Framces Hardinge: The novel that I am writing at the moment is another stand alone book. Unlike Verdigris Deep it has a fantasy setting with a somewhat historical flavour, but unlike Fly by Night there are some definite supernatural elements.

In terms of style, it's somewhat closer to Fly by Night, but rather darker and less humorous. I don't know how much I should say about it, but themes include volcanoes, betrayal, revenge, persecution, tiny sinister soul-eating birds, redemption and more volcanoes.

Luke Slater: Given that you plan to go back not only to the style, but to the world of Fly by Night, at what point do you find - as it were - the romance with the story rekindles? Is it soon after you start work on the new hotness, or does the ill-feeling last, say, until the paperback release?

Frances Hardinge: The healing process begins almost as soon as the revisions finish. Revisions are without doubt my least favourite part of the writing process. If one has been staring at a book for too long, it is hard to remember why any of it seemed a good idea, why this scene seemed necessary, why that jokes seemed funny. Sometimes one has to withdraw from it for a good while before one can actually see it again. If the book is published, and it turns out that readers don't actually loathe it with a passion, then this also helps immensely.

David Reedy: What aspects of the writing process do you enjoy the most?

Frances Hardinge: ... research comes very high up the list. Researching Fly by Night, for example, meant sieving through historical accounts looking for things that appealed to my imagination and sense of humour. Since my third book heavily involves volcanoes, 'research' has included visiting quite a few of them. There's nothing like trekking through a smoking crater between bright yellow sulphur mounds and a livid, steaming green lake and telling yourself that you're working...

Nikki Gamble: What's that hardest thing about writing?

Frances Hardinge: The hardest thing about writing full time is operating in a void, and disciplining oneself without feedback. I have a decidedly active social life, which is just as well given that writing is such a solitary business, and I am learning to break up my day so that I don't go stir crazy staring at the computer.

Nikki Gamble: Do you learn something new about yourself as a writer with each new book that you write?

Frances Hardinge: I am probably learning more about the art of writing with each novel, but it doesn't always feel that way. I suspect that I'm not the only author who has to fight the conviction that their current book is markedly inferior to whatever they wrote last.

Mat Tobin: Do you ever need to give yourself a kick up the backside in order to get back onto the writing path or do you find you can write whenever?

Frances Hardinge: Yes, kicks up the backside are vital. I work best on caffeine and panic, which of course means that in this job I have to manufacture my own deadlines. I'm fortunate enough to have friends who are willing to have "writers' meetings" in which we meet up and show each other what we've written over the past week. This acts as a really useful spur.

Sally Nicholls: If you threw a penny into the wishing well, what would you wish for and how do you think the well spirit would grant it?

 Frances Hardinge: If I were wishing for something for myself, and not for anyone else, I would probably wish never to be bored. As to how the Well Spirit would grant it... well, they do say that there's a Chinese curse concerning 'interesting times'...

Mat Tobin: If you were an object in the kitchen, which one would you be and why?

Frances Hardinge: I'd love to claim that I'm something glamorous like a coffee percolator or a jar of saffron, but I think I'm probably a teaspoon. Small, friendly, versatile and generally up to my neck in tea.

Thank you Frances Hardinge for talking to us at Write Away.