When I used to do book readings I would invariably get asked the question "where do your ideas come from?" to which I almost always had no convincing answer. Where do ideas come from? The subconscious? Dreams? I don't know for sure. For me it's often been the case that the ideas for my books have come as a particular mental image. Dead I Well May Be began as a memory of waiting at the 1-9 Subway Stop at 125th Street and Broadway on one of those humid July NYC days. The Bloomsday Dead began while I was walking the dog back from Blackhead Cliff to my sister Diane's house. (That was a book where I wrote the last chapter first and gradually worked my way back to the beginning.) For The Cold Cold Ground the book came all at once with this line and this mental image: "Arcs of gasoline fire under the crescent moon."
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I Hear The Sirens In The Street began back in 1983 or 1984 when I was visiting HMS Caroline, my dad's Royal Navy Reserve ship that was anchored permanently in Belfast. Caroline was a venerable vessel that had taken part in the Battle of Jutland, but what impressed me on that particular morning was the sight of hundreds of DeLorean sports cars parked at the Belfast docks waiting to be shipped out to God knows where. The ailing DeLorean car factory had recently closed and John DeLorean himself had been arrested by the FBI for attempted cocaine smuggling, cocaine which he was hoping to sell to the IRA in attempt to get the factory going again.
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I began walking among the rows of DeLoreans and to my amazement when I tried one of the door handles the gullwinged door opened. I looked inside the DeLorean and was immediately impressed by the left hand drive, the small aircraft like dashboard and the smell of newness and modern-ness. Checking for a non existent security guard I got inside the car and closed the door. I sat there for about two minutes playing with the steering wheel and the peculiar automatic transmission then quickly got out again before I was discovered. I learned later that most of the cars in that parking lot were sold as scrap or for parts which was a shame because in 1985 Back To The Future was released and DeLoreans became prized collectors items.
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Anyway the idea for I Hear The Sirens In The Street almost certainly came from my memory of sitting in that DeLorean back in 1983/4, a memory that has been knocking around in my brain for the last couple of decades, looking for a way to express itself.
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13 comments:
There was nothing really wrong with the car, was there? It was just mismanagement of the factory?
This is pulling up some strange memories of my own. I am pretty sure that someone we knew had a DeLorean because I have the distinct impression of one being parked in our driveway in Carmel, with the wings up one night. But it was only once, so maybe it was someone visiting. Or maybe it was just a dream.
My dad's brother worked for Edsel, and this seemed to be a matter of endless amusement for his siblings. I think he had been sort of the golden boy of the family the one who always put his foot right, and this was viewed as sort of a comeuppance. I have no idea why, but it didn't help that his name was Ed. Embarrassment is a funny thing.
Fascinating and always cool to hear where inspiration comes from. Now, I need to get to the those 4 chapters...Can't wait and thanks for sharing them!
Seana
I think the cars looked good but didn't actually run that well. The reviews of the first DeLoreans were harsh and sales lacklustre. Its possible that if the government had subsidised the plant for a few more years that they could gradually have established a niche market the way for example that Triumph motorcycles have done but the Thatcher government pulled the plug and that was the end.
Sean
I hope you like 'em.
What is it with these guys and their gull-wing sports cars named after themselves? In Canada we had the Bricklin, built for a few years in New Brunswick in the 70s, but that didn't last long either.
At least Delorean was the inspiration for a fantastic book.
Yup. Although at first I thought you meant fantastic movie.
I know this is very American snobbish of me, John, but DeLorean is a better name for a car than a Bricklin.
Although both are better than the name Edsel.
John
I remember the Bricklin. In fact I saw one in real life in Denver. Looked like a pointy Lotus. The DeLorean looked like a rectangular Lotus.
Seana
Yeah the Edsel didnt get much love. Maybe it was ahead of its time like the Tucker Torpedo.
My prosaic counterpart is that two friends and I slipped into a railyard and were amazed to find a sea of Toyotas, similarly unlocked and with keys in the ignition. Unlike you, we each started one and took it for a little joyride around the lot. The cops were waiting for us when we wriggled back under the fence to our bicycles.
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Detectives Beyond Borders
"Because Murder Is More Fun Away From Home"
http://www.detectivesbeyondborders.blogspot.com/
Peter
thats pretty awesome. I bet I could have nicked a DL and kept it in a garage and no one would ever have noticed. If the car would have actually made it to Carrick that is.
We all ought to continue the tradition and name gull-wing cars after ourselve. Think of the possibilities. I happily claim to have the name lease-suited to a snappy, high-end vehicle.
No thank you. I have already spent enough time for this life saying "Yeah, Graham, like the cracker" to ever want another reason.
Adrian, it's just as well. With a DeLorean, there would probably have been that odd way where the wings rose and you totally forgot to check for the mercury tilt.
Adrian, the funny part of my criminal escapade is that one of my friends and I each chose car to take on our joy ride, but the other kid, whose father owned a trucking company, heisted a pickup.
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