Your new book, Coram Boy, includes Handel and Charles Burney in the castlist. Is this the first time that you've included actual historical characters in your fiction? What other opportunities have you had in your fiction to indulge your love of music? I believe you once considered becoming a professional pianist.

Music was the overriding love of my life - still is, really, but as a child I didn't say "I want to be a pianist." I was very creative - always making things up - whether it was music, poetry, stories, plays, dance or painting. It was my music teachers who seemed to assume that I should be a concert pianist, and so for awhile, I followed that path. My contact with broadcasting was a turning point - as it seemed the ideal place in which to indulge all the areas I loved - and I was thrilled the day I walked through the doors of Broadcasting House in my first job. Later, as a writer, I found I could bring music into my writing - and I suppose the first book in which it really featured was The Wheel of Surya. But yes - Coram Boy is the first book in which one of my characters is overtly musical, and real historical characters, like Handel and Charles Burney, make an actual appearance. In the Surya Trilogy, I allude to historical events and real characters, but the real people don't come on stage, so to speak. However, I often hear music in my head when I'm writing - for example in The Wormholers or in The Temple By the Sea.

How much research did you have to do to get the 18th century setting of Gloucester and London accurate?

Alongside writing Coram Boy I was reading up on Jenny Uglow's biography of Hogarth, Eighteenth Century England - and especially Ruth McClure's book on the history of the Coram Foundation in London - called Coram's Children. I quizzed my friends who I thought knew some aspect of the eighteenth century, and in this way picked up all kinds of interesting snippets of information. I also went to art galleries and looked at C18 paintings, and into C18 houses . So I got the feel of the period in a very eclectic way - rather than a scholarly way. I didn't want to be overwhelmed by research and intimidated by how little I knew. I felt the best thing was to write the story, go with my hunches, and then check the detail later.

Was the trade in illegitimately born children as widespread as you depict in the novel? How did your memories of Tibetan traders where you grew up in Northern India impinge on the book?

Re. the trade in illegitimately born children: I suspect yes - it was widespread -though not just in illegitimate children. Any unwanted children - especially those of the poor - would be thrown out into the world as soon as possible, either to fend for themselves or to find themselves exploited. One only has to look at countries today - from India to Brazil from China to Roumania - and see how children fare there, to realise that it would have been the same here before the great age of the reformers came along - like Coram and Wilberforce.

And no, it was not Tibetan traders who came to mind when writing Coram, but my discovery of the drover's roads where I live in Gloucestershire. Some of them are almost lost from sight - just dirt tracks through woods and fields - which make you realise, when you think about it, that these used to be the main routes of communication from one hamlet to another, one village to another and, ultimately, one city to another.

Of several powerful scenes, the most electrifying for me was Meshak's witnessing of the kiss between Melissa (his angel) and Alexander. The fact that the kiss and the embrace take place in a child's playhouse lends the scene an emblematic atmosphere reminiscent of Le Grand Meaulnes. Does this kind of scene write itself straight off, or take several revisions?

Yes - this scene did write itself. Although I always knew that the playhouse was an important venue where the children would rehearse adult life thought their games, the book didn't start to really work till I had got right inside Meshak, and saw the world from his point of view - then it just poured out.

As with all the best children's books, Coram Boy also makes a splendid adult read. Does it concern you that some adults who might enjoy it may pass it by simply because it is published on a children's list. How old do you think the bulk of its readership will be?

Yes, I do wish both the Surya Trilogy and Coram Boy could be seen equally as an adult read. I know that there are literally thousands of books being published, and the public needs help with identifying the books they want - but it grieves me to see children's books so compartmentalised -(and I include the ethnic/ multicultural compartmentalising in this too.) The children I meet who have read my so-called teenage books are hardly ever even teenagers - but often very good junior age readers. I wonder whether my readership for these books, who ideally should include those from 13 years old upwards, even go to look for what they want in the children's section of bookshops and libraries, but will rather consider themselves as adult readers and go to the adult books. Perhaps I miss them as well as adults. Preferably, I would like to see my teenage books in both sections - and especially not further categorised as being multicultural. One wants people to be discriminating not discriminatory.

Your work is testimony to the continuing power of a traditional narrative style. Have you had to battle against any editorial pressure to make your style more 'contemporary'.

I suppose I have developed my style through my own interest in storytelling. I was quite a storyteller as a child, and enjoyed the power of keeping my audience enthralled with my stories - and it's only recently, I've found my novels being described as "traditional!" But no, I have never been asked to alter my style. I have had the privilege of working with editors who have seen it as their role to support me, and the way I write. They have never put pressure on me - even to write only the so-called multi-cultural book. But these comments make me wonder whether I should move forward and speak with a more contemporary voice!

One of the themes of the novel is that of social class, which is seen at several turns to be operating perniciously. Alexander is 'imprisoned by his wealth' (92) and discouraged from following his natural musical talent. The upper class is generally so obsessed with maintaining appearances that they are prepared to enter into unsavoury agreements with petty criminals to get rid of illegitimate offspring. At what stage did the class theme rear its head?

I suppose because my mother was an historian, I was brought up with a natural love and interest in history. Through her - I was also aware of class. Even as late as the fifties, it was still a major factor in the way people perceived each other. One knew what lengths people went to, either to proclaim their class, or hide it, or transcend it. Illegal back-street abortion was an open secret. One knew that respectability was everything. How many mothers of my generation forbade their children to play with so and so because she's "common." (Though - to my mother's credit - it was something I never heard from her.) By the time I turned to writing, I was well imbued in Dickens and - Hardy in particular - to know with what horror and desperation illegitimacy was viewed; so in the case of Coram, it didn't suddenly rear its head. It was part of the fabric of writing that kind of story.

Meshak is a wonderful character. Simpleton, sentimental, but nevertheless powerfully and instinctively 'good'. That key moment referred to in Q4 produces writing of the highest quality: "Meshak fled away, his wretched, wrenching howl scuttering and trailing trhrough the night, leaving behind two people in the cottage blood-chilled, transifixed with horror and guilt, as if somehow they had done wrong and all the demons of hell had found them out." (105) This scene, as so much else in the novel, seems made for visual dramatisation. Did you at any time visualise a screenplay version while you wrote?

Yes and No. In the first instance, I only had a novel in mind. I had just begun to map it out, when a film producer I knew, got excited by the story and persuaded me to do a film treatment - even before I had got into the novel properly. However, I don't actually think it affected the way I wrote the book. What it did do, was help me to clarify my characters and the progression of chapters. I think that I do tend to write visually. I love film and go to the cinema as much as I can. I love the narrative language of the camera. "The Wheel of Surya" is under an option and seeking money for a film.

At several points in the novel you depict with cool disapproval the way in which black boys were sported with at parties or dressed up as fancy footmen. "There was nothing a wealthy family in society liked more than to have a little black boy as a plaything. He was such a pet, just like their lapdogs, only more enchanting." (129) Was this an issue that presented itself to you during research, were you aware of it before you started, or did you feel obliged to include it because you are considered a 'multicultural' author?

I knew superficially - especially from paintings (e.g.. Hogarth and Rembrandt,) that black children were often part of a wealthy household. They were also much sought after by the military as drummer boys and mascots, so it didn't take much imagination to suppose that once they grew up and stopped being cuddly or cute, that they would be at the mercy of a harsh world. This after all, was also the fate of child prodigies (to a different degree.) Once Mozart grew up, people lost interest in him for quite a long time. The introduction of Toby as a black character came fairly early on - and perfectly naturally. Once I had understood Otis Gardiner, and what an ambitious villain he was, it semed natural that he would be drawn to the slave trade, which at that time was both respectable and lucrative. My research did reveal that white slaves - young girls in particular - were greatly valued, especially in North Africa and Arabia. No, there was no compunction on me, by either my editors or myself, to be dutiful and include a black character in line with my multicultural credentials. It just shows that it is a natural part of the way I see the world.

The novel, which spans several years and different settings, must have been a difficult one to organise and plan. Were there instances in the early draft where you had characters behaving/reacting inappropriately in the light of previous experience? Did you notice these for yourself before presenting to an editor, or was it left to them to point it out? Who WERE your editors on this book?

My main difficulty with the novel was getting my dates right: fitting in Handel, the performance of the Messiah, Charles Burney - how old he would have been (delighted to find he could be the same age as Alexander). I had wanted to have Alexander described by the bishop of Gloucester as "our own little Mozart" - but couldn't because Mozart wasn't even born. These sort of details had to be checked and rechecked to be consistent with my characters growing up. My editors spotted vital details such as: I must have shutters instead of curtains; that I musn't say THE Messiah, but simply Messiah; and to make sure I got the instrumentation right for that particular performance. Others pointed out flowers which only grew in the spring not the autumn, or that at one point my river runs up to London instead of down! But as for the characters, they always seemed to be there right from the start; no one intervened and I didn't really struggle with them.

Miriam Hodgson, who has been my editor now for nearly twenty years, was feeding me every possible thing she could find on the period - articles and books - to give me. Though now semi-retired, she continues to be my editor for the teenage novels. Cally Poplak, senior editor at Egmont Children's Books was a rock. She kept a meticulous track of the the time and dates and who was doing what when and where. I also had a big piece of cardboard at home on which I kept my chronology.

Apart from an edited anthology for Dorling Kindersley, you've been with just one publisher since 1979 (Egmont, previously Methuen and then Mammoth) for your entire career. Such loyalty is increasignly unusual in children's books. Why has it continued for so long in your case.

I know when I'm in good hands. I have Miriam Hodgson. What more can a writer ask for, than to have an editor who believes in you and is prepared to guide you through your weaknesses and draw out your strengths? Listening to other writers, such a relationship has almost become non-existent. However, I have done a number of short stories for other publishers - and written for educational series, but yes - all my novels have been done with Methuen/Mammoth.

You are a governor of a primary school in Stroud. How does your involvement with this school differ from your visits to other schools as 'a writer' and what qualities and concerns have you been able to bring to you role of governor at the school.

I try to be good. I try to attend the important meetings and be involved in my role as a governor for special needs and the curriculum. I fear I don't do enough. I also try to go in and take creative writing groups or put on my other hat and help with the multicultural side of the curriculum. The main way it differs from visiting other schools is that I know everyone; it is my local school; I can pop in at any time - and it is part of my life rather than a job. I have expressed concerns about proper facilities for disabled children coming into a mainstream school; encouraged them to make as much provision as possible for music and the arts - and simply show my support for a relatively small school which works incredibly hard to give its children the best.

The Wormholers was inspired by Stephen Hawking and the after-effects of anesthetic. Can you say a little more about that book, which is so different from Coram Boy?

I was hopeless at Maths and the sciences at school - yet later in life, found that I was fascinated by notions of time, space, matter, and the nature of the universe. This, I discovered, was Physics - though not the Physics I did at school! I loved reading articles about reverse time, discoveries in the solar system, black holes - and then yes - wormholes. I had had my first ever total anesthetic; I was standing in my kitchen, and suddenly all the bottles on my shelf grew as tall as skyscrapers, and there seemed chasms in between, plunging down. I myself felt like Alice, shrinking and shrinking into almost nothing, feeling that I could fall into such a chasm. I described this to a friend, who happened to be a physicist, and he said -"Oh that sounds like wormholes." It was he who put me onto Stephen Hawking. Having said that, The Wormholers was not an easy book to write. Having gone down the wormhole, it took me a long time to climb out. I had to realise that what I was really writing about was every child's need to know where they belong and to whom.

I had also always been interested in people who were handicapped in some way - and was especially aware of people who, though unable to move or speak, actually had completely normal thinking brains. My character, Sophie, in the Wormholers, is one of my most treasured characters. The blurb on the book jacket quotes a line from the book. "Everyone has a place for which they were designed." The dilemma for Sophie was that that place wasn't home. So she had to make a choice. I suppose it is different from Coram Boy - certainly in style - but I have my interest in Meshak, and there is the same dilemma for Alexander as for Sophie - where does he really belong? At "home" on the family estate which is his inheritance? To his class? Or in London, as a musician (after all - something which in those days was considered a trade rather than a profession?)

I would like to return to the world of the Wormholers one day. A sequel was suggested - but I need to feel my way back into what was also a psychological inner world - not just science fantasy.

The Wheel of Surya (the excellent first part in a trilogy about India) was runner-up for the GUARDIAN Children's Fiction Award, but in general awards and prizes have passed you by. This ought to be rectified by Coram Boy, which should find its way onto most of the following shortlists: Guardian Award (again), Carnegie, Whitbread, Smarties, Children's Book Award. The question is: how much does the shortlisting for and the winning od wards matter to you as a writer?

Of course it is gratifying to be shortlisted and would be wonderful to win. I have been on a number of short-lists - all three books of the Trilogy, as well as Grandpa Chatterji, which was on a Smarties shortlist. When I feel "always the bridesmaid, never the bride" - that's when I've let it get to me. Usually I don't. I don't involve myself - just because I don't want to feel that it matters so much. What matters is that people still seem to want my books, and I can therefore still go on writing and publishing. I know that never have there been so many excellent writers writing children's books. The standard is very high now - and the competition for prizes therefore that much tougher. So, though I cared a bit after the last of the Surya Trilogy didn't win (it would have been such an endorsement to the whole trilogy) I have really made a point of not thinking about it. However, I speak for myself. I think it matters a lot to publishers and purchasers. It does make a difference to sales - and it does make a difference to how you are perceived. I know that.

One of your most recent promotional events was at the Polka Theatre. To finish, tell us a little bit about that occasion, and what you see as the importance of public appearances by children's authors.

Alas, Malorie Blackman (with whom I was to have shared the platform) was ill on the day. So I took the session alone, with the wonderful support of Vicky Ireland who runs the Polka. I think it went well. I think it does make a difference for an author to be in direct contact with an audience. After I told them about myself - my life and work - so to speak, they then asked questions - and there were so many - about my books, the characters, the motivations, racism, multiculturalism, ideas, mental blocks and how to get out of them - we had to cut them short. So it left me in no doubt that there was enormous interest in the writer, on the part of both children and adults.

© ACHUKA 2000