Rod Duncan is the author of Backlash, Breakbeat and Burnout. Three novels set in the same city against the backdrop of the same fictional riot, but following the lives of different people. Most recently he has written The Mentalist, a short story for Five Leaves new crime fiction imprint. The story centres around Harry Gysel, a charismatic psychic who appears to predict the death of a woman in the audience of one of his shows. It is the literary equivalent of a Derren Brown show, exposing the conflict between rationality and faith. James Walker caught up with him to discuss mysticism, dyslexia and why Sherlock Holmes would not make a good dinner guest…
I am dyslexic and by the age of seven I was having problems in school that were causing me much grief. I remember spending escapist hours telling myself stories in which I was the central character. Unlike many people who went on to be novelists, I did not write my stories down. Dyslexia blocked that outlet. But I told them none-the-less. To an audience of one.
I started writing one day with no clear idea about what I would do, and this is the story that emerged. It was one of those times when I can be sure that my subconscious mind was in the lead. I started typing and a couple of hours later the first chapter was there on the page.
Where did the riot image come from?
A couple of places, I think. From seeing a crowd of people gathered around a burning car in Leicester one night. Hearing it explode. That was the obvious origin of the scene. But possibly another event; which I only consciously remembered when someone asked me this question at an event last year. When I was 10, I was in a car that became surrounded by a rowdy demonstration. Hands banged down on the windows. The car rocked. Then a way cleared ahead and we drove.
Both are great showmen. But Derren Brown is definitely my favourite. Harry is not based on any individual. He started as the embodiment of a conflict between belief and cynicism and of my love for the mentalist tricks my father used to tell me about when I was a child. Ideological conflicts are an important aspect of my writing. But a story has to work in the simple sense of being a good yarn. I hope I manage to marry the two.
I love collaborative work. There is something extra you get when working with other creative minds. I don’t think it is MORE than the sum of the parts, exactly. But it is definitely DIFFERENT from the sum of the parts. But individual performances do have their own special quality, which I would not wish to be without. The chance to craft something so personal and individual. So... in answer to your question, I am not answering. I can’t choose.
Harry and Daz both needed to be written in that somewhat enigmatic way because the psychology of each is the driving force behind their respective stories. It is the gradual discovery by the reader of what makes each of them tick that ultimately provides much of the emotional interest. Also, with Harry, I wanted the readers to be able to see what he does on stage from the outside – as members of the audience – so they could make up their minds about how he does what he does. Is he a genuine psychic? Is there such a thing? Only later do I allow the readers to see his performance from the inside looking out.
I was born in the village of Borth on the coast of Wales. For most of the year, that extraordinary beach felt like my private playground. Amazing things would be washed up on the sand. I remember a huge jellyfish beached there one day and once after a storm, thousands of pink starfish. Treasure everywhere. When I was six we moved to Aberystwyth. This heralded a more conflicted time for me.
