The music of The Witch’s Kiss

This is a blog post we wrote a couple of months back as part of our blog tour; the post was hosted by the lovely Andrew over at The Pewter Wolf. Someone was asking us again the other day about what soundtrack we’d choose, if The Witch’s Kiss  got made into a film (and assuming we had any say in the matter), so we decided to re-post the article on our own blog. What do you think? Have we chosen the right tracks, or would you do something different?


Here’s the thing: neither of us can actually write with any noise going on at all. It’s like we have to channel our (stereotypical) inner librarians: there must be ABSOLUTE SILENCE in the work place. Which is too bad, because we both love music of all types. Our protagonist in The Witch’s Kiss, Merry, also sings (badly) and listens to music – actually, singing turns out to be pretty important in her world…

So, we’ve tried to pull together a brief list of some of the songs that really evoke, for us, the mood of the story and the goings-on within.


The Weight of Living, Part II – Bastille

This song explores both the headlong rush of feeling that you’re suddenly getting to be a grown up, and the fear that somehow you’re not quite doing it right… The lyrics of the first verse sum up what’s going through Merry’s head in the first bit of the novel: Now that you are here, suddenly you fear you’ve lost control…Do you like the person you’ve become?


Jar of Hearts – Christina Perri

The background (and the centre, in a way) to our story is the version of Sleeping Beauty we created, called The King of Hearts in the novel. Key lyrics here are those of the chorus, which rather echo the King of Hearts’ activities: …running round leaving scars, collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart…


Faded – Alan Walker ft. Iselin Solheim

The vocals here are wonderfully eerie, tying into the fairy-tale atmosphere we’re trying to evoke. Also, we think the lyrics capture how Jack, our Sleeping Beauty, might be feeling: the monsters running wild inside of me, I’m faded…so lost, I’m faded. After all – he has been asleep for a seriously long time…


Poison – Rita Ora

Merry knows she shouldn’t get close to Jack, but still. That’s why this song works: Nothing could kill me like you do. You’re going straight to my head…I pick my poison and it’s you. And poison is pretty common in fairy tales: poisoned apples, sleeping potions, black thorns exuding deadly venom…


Fix You – Coldplay

The relationship between Merry and her brother Leo is such an important part of The Witch’s Kiss, at least as important as the romantic relationship. Fix You expresses Leo’s desire to help his sister, even when he knows there may not be much he can actually do: Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you.


We might as well be strangers – Keane

Another older song, but we love how it describes the pain and isolation of love going wrong, as it so often does: I don’t know your thoughts these days; we’re strangers in an empty space. I don’t understand your heart; it’s easier to be apart.


Radioactive – Imagine Dragons

We always wanted to write Merry as a forceful & determined hero: some kind of Buffy/Maleficent genetic mash-up. And this, with its awesome bass line, is the song for that moment where the hero finally gets her stuff together: All systems go, the sun hasn’t died, deep in my bones, straight from inside, I’m waking up, I feel it in my bones, enough to make my system blow…


I lived – One Republic

This would be perfect for the closing credits if The Witch’s Kiss ever gets made into a film: with every broken bone, I swear I lived. We’re keeping our fingers crossed!




Back to School

There are all sorts of events that authors do: festivals, conventions, bookshop talks, school visits. Since Liz and I are both somewhere on the scale of ‘mildly introverted’ all the way through to ‘completely introverted’, standing up in front of strangers and talking to them isn’t our most favourite thing to do. Still, in the spirit of ‘learning by doing’, when we were asked to fill a last minute slot at an event a couple of weeks ago we obviously said yes please!

The event was a careers fair for primary school children, held with the idea of opening their eyes to the variety of jobs out there, raising their aspirations and ambitions. In the course of two hours we had to convey to six groups of children (aged from 9 to 11) a little bit about what it’s like to be writers. We knew we couldn’t talk to them in detail about The Witch’s Kiss – it’s not out yet, and the children were the wrong age group in any case – and a lecture on the rocky path to publication was hardly likely to engage them. Instead, we decided to focus on the fact that being an author isn’t primarily about agents and publishing deals and book reviews; it’s about telling stories.

We asked each group of children to come up with the basics of a story: a hero, a villain, a setting. We asked them to think about what the hero and the villain might both want, and how this could lead to conflict between the two characters. And the children rose to the challenge brilliantly. They were particularly imaginative in coming up with some great villains. Our favourites were Bob the Martian, a mischievous purple-green alien with four arms; Victor Blood, a planet-ruling vampire; and Dr Banana, a WW2 German scientist who has been genetically-modified into a giant piece of homicidal fruit.

The mad, staring eyes of an evil genius

After each story had been established we were able to talk the children through the various ways in which it’s possible to for a story to find readers. They seemed to enjoy the process; we certainly did.

Our take-away points from the event?

  • Have a plan. We sought advice from other authors about events (I particularly recommend the excellent Guide to Author Events run by Non Pratt and Robin Stevens). We made a short slide show to guide both us and the children through what we wanted to do, and that made us feel a little bit more in control. But also…
  • Be prepared to deviate from your plan. If the audience wants to talk more about one aspect of writing than another, go with it. But don’t let one person drag the discussion completely off topic. We had to cut short what was turning into an interesting but lengthy discussion on how to kill vampires.

Other than that, we emerged from our first event in awe of the stamina of teachers (talking non-stop for two hours is exhausting) but with a feeling that we’d survived. We can do this. And in a little while, with practice, we might even stop feeling nervous about it.

From Agent to Bookshelf

Before we had an agent, getting one felt like the end of the process. The goal. After all, we’d read the statistics. About agents only taking on 0.1% of submissions, or something like that. The possibility seemed so remote, we didn’t even bother to think about what might come next.

So we were kind of surprised to find out that what came next was actually editing. Lots and lots of editing.


First, we edited with our agent, before she sent it out to publishers.

Then, after we got a deal, we did more editing with our editor (and yes, we probably should have seen that coming).

It panned out something like this:

  • Three main edits, refining different aspects of the manuscript. For example, we moved sections around. Brought out some character traits more clearly. Wrote some new scenes and deleted others entirely. (Yes, it hurt. A lot. But it worked.)
  • A line edit, in which we worked through the manuscript thinking about phrasing, choice of words, clarity of expression.
  • A copy edit. The manuscript was checked over by the copy editor – a fresh pair of eyes – who suggested some further clarifications for us to think about.
  • A proof edit. The proof-reader checked everything over for house style, missed spelling mistakes, that sort of thing.

It all happened pretty quickly. Our first editorial meeting was mid-October 2015: a little over 8 months before publication date. And we had to write the first draft of our second book at the same time. But at least we were never bored.

Exhausted, yes. Bored, no.

And in twenty-six days, the result of all this editing and re-writing will be sent out into the world.

Nervous? Who’s nervous? Not us.


From idea to agent…

Here’s a thing: The Witch’s Kiss is our debut, but it’s not actually the first book that Liz and I have written together.

We began TWK in the summer of 2014, but we’d started writing together two years earlier, on a project I’m going to call Rookie Novel 1. RN1 took a long time to get into shape. More than 18 months passed before we thought it was up to sending out to agents (perhaps at some point I’ll post up here for your amusement the ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE query letters we wrote back at the beginning). But – lack of experience notwithstanding – we did end up with two full manuscript requests for RN1 from big London agencies. Still, that was as far as we got. And two requests on perhaps twenty queries didn’t seem that encouraging. So by mid-2014 we decided we really needed to either forget the whole thing or write something new. (Of course, we were both addicted to writing by then, so something new was really the only option).

Then, after re-reading a bunch of fairy-tales, Liz had an idea: a male sleeping beauty, in some sort of historical setting. And something to do with jars of hearts…


Probably not this sort of heart.

And I thought: let’s not do medieval. Medieval seems like the go-to setting for fantasy. Let’s do Anglo-Saxon. A male sleeping beauty who is asleep for more than fifteen hundred years.

And we both thought: witches. Twenty-first century witches. How cool would that be?


Probably not this sort of witch.


We didn’t start writing straight away. Because we were writing together (and also because we’re both complete control freaks) we like to plan. We wrote an initial 14 page outline. Then a more detailed chapter-by-chapter outline, that was at least twice as long. Then we divided the chapters up and off we went.

More or less.

There was a lot of re-writing. A lot of re-writing stuff the other one had already re-written. A lot of underlining in red and adding comments like: ‘SERIOUSLY???’. But, by the end of five months (November 2014) we did have a complete manuscript. Then we read the whole thing through and decided we needed to completely reorganize the middle sections. That Christmas was kind of busy. Still, by the middle of January we were ready to start submitting again.

The next couple of weeks were fairly….terrifying. (We were not particularly chilled about the whole thing). We were over-the-top nervous about misreading the submission guidelines. We panicked that we were sending out the wrong version of the manuscript, or the wrong manuscript altogether. And every time one of us got an email we had a heart-stopping moment of fear, convinced that a rejection had just landed in the inbox.

But funnily enough, this time turned out not to be that terrible at all. Within a couple of weeks, we had three offers of representation from three fabulous agents. We had a choice!

We chose the lovely Claire Wilson from RCW, and that is definitely one of the best decisions we’ve ever made in our short writing career.

Next week, I’ll write about the next stage of the process: from agent to bookshelf.

Once upon a time…

There was an article in the Telegraph a few weeks back titled ‘Fantasy books such as Game of Thrones can damage children’s brains’. The article was quoting a head-teacher who recommended younger children should be protected from the “damaging effects” of fantasy literature, including Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings and Terry Pratchett.


And also, presumably, Ladybird Books

Frankly, I think this is ridiculous.

So much of classic literature is based in fantasy: The Odyssey, Beowulf, The Tempest. And fairy tales are important. As usual, Neil Gaiman puts it brilliantly: ‘Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.’

So children should definitely be allowed to read Harry Potter. And adults should be allowed to read fairy tales. Taken as a whole, they present a pretty complex view of life. Magic fixes things for Cinderella, but nearly costs Rumplestiltskin’s victim her baby. Prince Charming is always a hot guy, but Beauty and the Beast shows that what’s inside a person is more important than good looks. I guess that’s why fairy tales can be re-imagined over and over so successfully.

The fairy tale at the root of The Witch’s Kiss is Sleeping Beauty, versions of which have been around for at least 700 years if you include the ‘Brynhildr falling asleep in her armour’ story in the Völsunga Saga. And it’s still going strong. Liz and I love Maleficent, in which the villain becomes the hero, and one of my favourite Christmas presents this year was The Sleeper and The Spindle, Neil Gaiman and Chris Riddell’s gorgeous Snow White / Sleeping Beauty mash up. Our starting point was the idea of a male sleeping beauty set in a real historical time period. What would happen if the sleeper – together with the person who cursed him – woke up in twenty-first century England?

Less than six weeks now, and you can find out!

Sister Act

I write books with my little sister, Elizabeth. And on 30th June (that’s only seven weeks away. SEVEN WEEKS!), our debut novel, The Witch’s Kiss, will be published by HarperCollins.

And that’s not a sentence either of us really thought we’d actually get to write.

The first thing most people ask when we meet them (if the whole writing thing comes up), is something along the lines of:

So how does that work, writing together? I would go mad if I had to work with my sister/brother/other family member. I’d probably kill her/him. How come you two haven’t killed each other?

Well, we’ve been writing together for nearly four years now, and we haven’t killed each other yet. There’s been some yelling, some angry-face emojis, but no actual bloodshed. So what is the secret?

I reckon there are four main ingredients to making our writing relationship work:

1. Technology. We use Dropbox to keep all our files in the cloud, which means we can both edit and comment on stuff the other one has written. So when Liz wants to say things like, ‘this chapter is awful. Terrible. So bad it’s making my eyeballs bleed…’ she doesn’t actually have to say it to my face. Also, we can have a whole conversation about a scene or character over email or Twitter. No vocal communication required!


2. Similarities. We have a lot of things in common, including a whole childhood of shared influences:  books, TV shows, films. So, there’s a big overlap of stuff we both enjoy, including a lot of our reading material. And now we enjoy writing the same kind of things too.


3. Differences. We both have our own strengths and weaknesses, in writing as in everything else. Liz has a great ear for dialogue. I like researching and writing more descriptive passages. Liz likes happy endings. I like doing horrible things to our characters.


4. Love. We love each other. And writing together means we get to do something we love with somebody we love. Life doesn’t get much better than that.


Thanks for reading. x