Lindsey Hilsum
Writers attending this year’s Hay Festival reveal where they walk and how it inspires their work…
The author and broadcaster is one of seven writers attending this year’s Hay Festival to tell us what walking does for them.
BASED AT THE foot of the Brecon Beacons, the Hay Festival is probably the most walker-friendly literary festival in the UK. The 11-day celebration of words and wordsmiths includes walking events (see panel), but it also attracts writers who love a good walk themselves. To prove it, here are the walking thoughts of seven acclaimed authors who will be speaking at this year’s festival…
‘I THINK ON MY FEET.’ Lindsey Hilsum
I think on my feet. Words form subconsciously as I walk. For me, it’s an intrinsic part of the writing process. When I was working on In Extremis: the Life of War Correspondent Marie Colvin, I spent four months on Long Island, New York, where Marie grew up. Every morning I walked along a beach for at least 40 minutes, the shingle slipping under my feet as I watched the seabirds and let ideas grow. A year later, when I was nearly finished, I went to stay at a friend’s house in South Ayrshire. Before breakfast I would wander along the bank of the Water of Tig; after a few hours of writing, I would go to a nearby beach, spotting seals and watching the clouds form around the craggy islet of Ailsa Craig. Solitude and the chance to walk – now I know what I need for my next book (once I’ve worked out what it’s about, of course.) In Extremis: The Life of War Correspondent Marie Colvin (Chatto & Windus) is available now.
‘WALKING IS A BIT LIKE DOING MATHEMATICS’ Marcus du Sautoy
I am a mountains person. Alps, Himalayas, Highlands. I love seeing a peak in the distance and then looking at a map, trying to see how I can get there. Actually that’s a pretty accurate description of what I do as a mathematician. A conjecture is like a far distant peak and the proof I try to construct is the pathway to that summit. Except in mathematics I’ve got to make my own map. Letting the subconscious do its own wandering is an important step in creating mathematics which is why heading out to hike is a great antidote to sitting at my desk. Strangely train journeys are my most productive environment for great breakthroughs. Something to do with the speed of the countryside whizzing by seems to stimulate my mathematical neurons. Marcus is Professor of Mathematics at the University of Oxford. The Creativity Code (Fourth Estate) is available now.
‘WE PLAN OUR BOOKS AROUND WALKING.’ Nicci Gerrard
I walk all over the UK and Europe: along coasts, through woods, up mountains, in cities as well. Sean French and I (writing as Nicci French) always plan our books on long walking holidays, usually in Italy or France. We live in Suffolk, and I love to walk by the sea there – it’s not a picturesque coast of golden sands and dramatic cliffs, but a haunting one of mudflats, marshlands, shingle beaches, huge skies, keen winds and grey sea, the call of the sea-birds; it feels lonely and intoxicating. It’s the way I have ideas, where I go when I get stuck, it’s how
‘MY MIND UNCLENCHES.’ Lucy Worsley
I am often to be found prowling round London by foot – I don’t have a car, dislike the Tube and sometimes rack up five or six miles around town in the course of my daily business. Also, the places where I work – London’s Historic Royal Palaces – are full of wonderful places to walk. At Hampton Court, where I’m Chief Curator, we have our huge park by the river, and indeed the palace itself is vast: it can be a matter of ten minutes to get from my office (which is up 51 steps of a spiral staircase) to a meeting with the boss! Walking has two purposes for me: I use the time to listen to audiobooks of other writers I admire, to inspire me, or as background research for something I’m working on. Also, it’s a cliché but true: sometimes when walking my mind just somehow unclenches which allows new ideas to pop up. Queen Victoria (Hodder & Stoughton) is available now.
I recharge myself and how I let myself go. And sometimes, just by letting the wind blow through you and the miles build up in your body, then without even knowing it’s happening, things work themselves out inside you. What Dementia Teaches Us About Love (Allen Lane) is published in April.
‘NIGHT WALKING REVEALS EVERYTHING.’
Fatima Bhutto My best friend took me for a walk on the night of his birthday several years ago. We were in the countryside, tucked away in a cabin in a forest, and after midnight he made me take off my shoes and step into the wild. It was dark and he taught me how to walk in pitch blackness, how to identify where I was, how to climb up and down an incline with no one to help me, how to feel the earth beneath my feet, how to see clearly in the night. But it wasn’t a lesson, he was just showing me how to be unafraid in the world while we walked. To be a writer is to observe closely and to operate with a sense of honesty, fearlessness and instinct. I learned that from my best friend, who has taught me more than anyone about writing on our midnight walks. The Runaways (Viking) is available now.
…AND THE BEST HELP OF ALL?
Mark Haddon I love Wytham Woods, the Pembrokeshire Coast, pretty much anywhere on the west coast of Scotland… How does it help me as a writer? It helps me as a human being. Mark Haddon is the author of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. His new book The Porpoise (Chatto & Windus) is published on May 9th.