The Laura Interview: Part Three

“Valkyrie is inspired by you in a lot of ways," I say, "from how you look to how you act to what your attitude is towards certain things and certain people- but is there something that Valkyrie has that you wish you had, too?

“Apart from the magic? No.” She smiles. “Valkyrie doesn’t have anything I don’t have.”

“We were talking about the Saw films a few months ago, and you said if you ever found yourself in a situation like that, you would-“

She starts laughing already. “Oh God, yes, what was it?”

“You said you would ‘explode your brain with fear’. That’s an exact quote from you.”

“You’re not going to put that in the interview, are you?”

“Oh yes I am, and it’s a line that WILL find its way into the books, I swear. Val would run headlong into something like that. Would you?”

“Well you see, the thing about the Saw films, it’s psychological, but with Valkyrie it’s all action. She hasn’t been in that kind of torture situation yet. With me, if you hit action, that’s fine, but it’s the fear of impending doom that’s the problem. It’s the fear, it’s the waiting. Whereas if you’re attacked, okay, boom, you handle it immediately, without thinking. But if you know it’s coming you start to panic. If you know there’s someone coming to slice your Achilles tendon, that’s when the fear kicks in.”

“Yeah, that’s, uh, that’s not pleasant.”

“No, it’s not. The only thing worse than death is the anticipation of death. I don’t think Val likes waiting around either. It allows the fear to fester.”

“We have an A, B or C question now,” I tell her.

“Really? What, are we in a teen magazine now or something?”

“See what you think of this one. If I have Valkyrie do or say something that you don’t agree with, would you A) threaten me, B) plead that I change it, or C) have no control whatsoever in the matter?”

“Can I add a D?”

“Go ahead.”

She leans forward. “Just tell you, ‘Derek, I wouldn’t say this, change it now’. I wouldn’t have to threaten you, because usually you’re really good about things like that. You like constructive criticism. It wouldn’t be a command or a demand, it would just be a statement. ‘This isn’t working. Fix it.’”

“What else do you usually get me to fix? When I’m finished writing a book, I’ll print up the manuscript and hand it over to you at the same time as I send it to my agent and editor. I get everyone’s notes back and I rewrite according to those notes. What are the main things that you pull me up on, in those early drafts?”

“Valkyrie saying stupid things. China going off and being friendly with people. That was a major problem with, um, what book was that? Where she’s standing around with Fletcher...?”

“Dark Days, when Val goes through the portal and China and Fletcher are left behind.”

“Yeah, that’s it. In the version you showed me, she has a nice friendly chat with Fletcher while they’re waiting around. But that’s just not China. You’d forgotten how aloof she is, and above it all, and how she really and honestly couldn’t care less about someone like Fletcher Renn.” Laura catches sight of something yellow and fluffy under my desk. “What’s this? Oh, it’s a duster.”

She pulls out the duster, extends the plastic handle, and proceeds to dust my face.

“This is very mature,” I mutter.

“This is so weird,” she says. “All these questions. We don’t have conversations like this. We talk about everything else- like, literally everything else- but we’ve never had a conversation about my feelings on being your inspiration, or whatever. You’re secretly delighted, aren’t you? You’re getting an insight into my brain.”

“Could you please stop dusting me?”

She sighs, and throws down the duster. “What’s the question? Oh yeah, what are the things I pull you up on. I don’t like when characters become too annoying, or when you try to make them go all funny when they’re not, or when Valkyrie and Skulduggery’s conversations get too ridiculous, and I don’t like-”

“That’s actually quite a list already.”

“Shush.”

“I actually didn’t expect it to be that extensive.”

“Shut up. We’ve also had some issues about character overlap, when different characters start to share the same type of humour. Like when Scapegrace was getting too like Kenspeckle, and the zombies were like Valkyrie’s dad, and Gordon was too like the zombies... But the thing is, by the time the book is printed and on a shelf, none of those things are in it anymore. You get rid of them in the manuscript, so that nobody out there knows what I’m talking about. Those kinds of things don’t make it into the books, not when I’m on duty. Or Michelle.” She leans into the microphone. “Michelle is Derek’s agent. Hi Michelle.”

“So you and Michelle safeguard these books?” I ask. “But not Nick? Nick doesn’t do anything?”

“Who’s Nick?”

“Nick is my editor.”

“Ooops.” Laura leans into the microphone. “Hi Nick. You’re doing a wonderful job. Well done.”

“So that’s it, then,” I say. “The main things you don’t like in the early drafts all stem from the fact that you seem to have an inability to find me funny.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “You’re not funny at all.”

“I’m hilarious.”

“Sometimes I write little notes in the manuscript saying that this or that is kind of funny.” She speaks into the microphone again. “And now Derek is making a sad face.”

“See, this is what I don’t understand. How can you not find me remotely funny?”

“I just don’t.”

“But what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry. Maybe it’s because I’ve known you for so long.”

“My mother has known me for longer. She thinks I’m hysterical.”

“Barbara laughs just to be nice to you. But I’ve never found you funny, have I?”

“That’s the thing, you haven’t. I mean, I’m not friends with an awful lot of people...”

“You can’t write that,” she says with a frown. “You don’t want your readers to think you’re unpopular.”

“Well, uh, actually I was going to spin it my way, tell them I just don’t like too many people, in general.”

“So it’s not just that you can’t make friends, then?”

“I was going to steer away from that little fact.”

She smiles. “Now I want you to put this in. Write this in. So, just for the record, you do have friends, right?”

“I have one or two. But most people like me because I’m, you know, funny. That’s what I bring to the table. But you...”

“I know. So why do I like you?”

“Yeah. If you don’t find me funny, then why are we close?”

“Oh my God,” she says. “I’ve just realised.”

“You don’t like me.”

“I don’t like you. Oh my God. Suddenly it’s all so clear. Suddenly it all makes sense!” She grins. “I mean, hey, sometimes I think you’re sort of funny.”

“And you laugh sometimes.”

“I do, yeah, like when you make that stupid face that you’re making now, the sad puppy face... I don’t know, I’ve just never found your humour funny, and it irritates me when you’re trying to be funny in your books.”

“Well, what about real life?”

“In real life, do I think you’re funny? No. We’ve already established that you’re not.”

“But... but I... I mean...”

She grins. “Go on, throw a little tantrum there. Throw that pen down again.”

I sit back and sulk.

She laughs. “See, you’re funny when you’re not trying to be funny, like there now when you’re having your little tantrum, throwing your pen down on the ground like a little spoiled child. ‘I am funny! I am!’”

“Well maybe if we, you know, interacted with other people instead of it always just being the two of us, then you could see just how funny I am in a social setting. Like, if we go out with a group of friends.”

“You don’t have a group of friends.”

“But you do, and I’d like to borrow them if they’re not being used.”

“You can’t. They’re my friends. But to get back to your question, why am I your friend? Because I like you. You just... are. You just... I don’t know why. When we sit down and have a conversation it’s just easy. I don’t know, it’s always been easy to talk to you. But I don’t think you’re funny.”

“I don’t think you’re funny either.”

“Yeah you do, you’re always laughing at the funny things I say.”

“I think you’re hysterical,” I admit sadly.

“See?”

“Okay, next question. How close is your life to Valkyrie’s, if you forget about all the magic stuff?”

“I live in a coastal town, beside the pier, there’s a hill up to my house, you can see the Martello tower, I get on great with my Mum.... But I have sisters, which Valkyrie doesn’t. My dad isn’t ridiculous like Valkyrie’s dad. I have horses.”

“Have you ever disagreed with how I’ve portrayed Valkyrie?”

“Yes, but whatever problems I have with your portrayal never make it into the final book, because I always win.”

“We have a few straightforward questions now. The folks out there want to know how old you are.”

“22.”

“Have you ever done martial arts?”

“Yes.”

“What type of car do you drive?”

She grins again. “A BMW. Black. I work hard.”

“How close are you to Tom’s drawing? The image of Valkyrie on the covers?”

“Um... very close, I’d say. Wouldn’t you? Obviously her features are sharper because that’s the style of the artist, but yeah, fairly close. Eyes, hair, height...”

“The readers of this Blog would really like a photo...”

“Oh they’re not getting a photo.”

“But you’re so pretty...”

“Ah Derek, they’re not getting a photo, because then no matter what image they had when they’re reading the books, they’re going to see me as Valkyrie, and I hate that. I hate when I go to a film, and then I go and read the book again, and all I see is the actor in the film. Like with Harry Potter, when you read the books, all you see are the actors. Besides, I have no desire to be famous.”

“They’re seriously going to complain if I don’t show them a photo.”

“I’m seriously going to hit you if you do.”

“Moving swiftly on, you’re going into your final year of college in September, which I know you’re super-happy about, but my Minions want to know what you do in your spare time. Do you actually HAVE spare time?”

“I ride horses.”

“How long have you ridden horses?”

“I had my first lesson on, I think, my fourth birthday.”

“And how many horses do you own?”

“Three and half.”

“You own three and a half horses?”

“Yes.”

“Which one is the half?”

She smiles. “Dinky.”

“Ah, the legendary Dinky. Half pony, half... I don’t know... hedgehog, or something.”

“Don’t insult the Dink.”

“Sorry Dink. So, when you’re not in college, your time is pretty much taken up with horses.”

“And everyone always thinks, when they hear you have horses, they always think ‘oh, little rich girl’, and I’m so not, you know? But they have this idea, of playing polo and the white jodhpurs and whatever. And I’m like, ‘if they see me sometimes when I come up to Derek’s, covered in mud and muck, and I nearly strip at the door’. Like, in the wintertime, what am I like? Like a little onion, all wrapped up in layers.”

“What was the first horse you owned?”

“That’d be Mister. I bought him for 250 pounds when I was 8, all my Communion money. He was so dangerous. He was a stallion yearling that should not have been given to any child. I don’t know how I wasn’t killed, I really don’t.”

“You’ve broken your leg a few times.”

“Twice. The first time wasn’t bad, I was only in plaster for 8 weeks. The second time was a disaster. I was mangled, remember? I had pins in my leg and scars and I was on crutches for 16 weeks. But I’m not a soft-ass. I’m a hard-ass. The moment I could walk without those bloody crutches, I threw them down. It was so utterly inconvenient. I hated it.”

“Anything else broken?”

She hesitates. “Ribs. Wrist. Toes. And I broke my knuckle last week.”

She shows me her left hand, where the middle knuckle is definitely off centre. “Oh my God,” I say. “It’s out of shape!”

“Yes Derek, I know. I can’t make a fist properly. I just fell off a horse, jumping. And I think that’s when I pulled a muscle in my neck as well. It wasn’t my own horse, it was someone else’s. Bloody horses. But what can you do? Horrible in the wintertime, great in the summertime, and they make me money.” She shrugs.

“That’s actually why I was so intent on giving Valkyrie a broken leg in the first book,” I say. “Because you had suffered that injury, I felt she had to, too.”

“So you hurt her because I'd been hurt? No other reason but to inflict pain on the poor girl? You’re a sadist.”

“I’m not a sadist, I just enjoy hurting people.”

“Uh, that’s what a sadist is, Derek.”

“Oh yeah.”

Join us NEXT TIME for the fourth and FINAL part of this interview, when Laura talks about why she never watches me on TV, who she thinks should play Skulduggery in a movie, and why she refuses to admit that I’m awesome.