Author Malcolm Duffy, reveals insights into how he wrote his latest novel, Dead Straight Line, from turning back the clock of being a teenager to the peril of being a risk taker.
by Malcolm Duffy
My stories are fiction, but they’re all rooted in fact. I like to base them on things that happen in the real world, like domestic abuse (Me Mam. Me Dad. Me), homelessness (Sofa Surfer) dyslexia (Read Between the Lies) and the Ukraine war (Seven Million Sunflowers). I decided to write my latest book about something we all do – take risks. Unlike my other stories, the inspiration came from someone very close to home – me. I turned the clock back to when I was a teenager and thought about my own risky behaviour.
Like a lot of young men, I was a risk taker. Not, incredibly scary stuff, like climbing Mount Everest or swimming with great white sharks, but stupid things, that didn’t seem dangerous at the time. The idea for Dead Straight Line came from a game I played as a teenager. I’ll never forget the queasy feeling in my stomach when my friend, Andrew, said we were going to head back to his house, not by following paths or roads, but in a dead straight line.
We ran through front and back gardens, climbed over fences and dived over hedges. It was exhilarating, scary and, looking back on it, quite stupid. Luckily neither of us got hurt.
The idea for Dead Straight Line came from a game I played as a teenager.
Another time I took a risk, things didn’t play out so well. In my early twenties I got into a car with some friends. We’d all been drinking. I didn’t put on my seatbelt. My friend who was driving crashed into a parked car, and I went through the windscreen.
I had cuts on my eyes, and over a hundred stitches in my head. I was off work for three months. My forehead is still numb to this day. Thankfully no-one was killed, but I still bear the scars from what happened on that sunny day in Newcastle all those years ago.
It seems I’m not alone in my risk-taking. Studies have shown young men are far more likely to indulge in risky behaviour than young women across all areas – driving, drinking, drugs, gambling. But I didn’t simply want to focus on risk, I wanted to look at what happens next, and what it means for a young guy like Rory who takes a risk and then has to deal with the fall-out when an innocent game takes a terrible turn.
… life is never a dead straight line.
Because when a bad thing happens, it doesn’t just affect one person, there’s a ripple effect. Rory’s actions impact his family, his girlfriend, his mates, his teachers. Who will support him? Who will hate him? Who will seek revenge? These questions are at the heart of the story.
As I know from my car accident, things can go horribly wrong in a split second. And this is what happens to Rory’s reluctant game player, Eliot, paralysed after a fall while taking part in the game. Eliot’s story was born from the experiences of my own family, helping our mum, who was confined to a wheelchair for the last few years of her life.
For someone who’d been incredibly active she found herself needing a wheelchair to get around. It came as both a shock and an eye-opener to our family, as the simplest things proved to be an obstacle. But, like Eliot, she showed how positivity can shine through, even in the most difficult circumstances.
The story isn’t only about risk, it’s about trust, something that can be so hard to gain, yet so easy to lose. As a result of what he’s done, Rory loses the trust of his close family and friends. Both he and Eliot suffer in different ways and need to rebuild their lives.
They discover that life is never a dead straight line.
The story isn’t only about risk, it’s about trust, something that can be so hard to gain, yet so easy to lose.
Dead Straight Line by Malcolm Duffy is out now in paperback (£8.99, Zephyr)
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Dead Straight Line
Sixteen-year-old Rory is a rule-breaker, a risk taker, a maverick. As a kick he comes up with a game called Dead Straight Line. The idea is simple – wherever you happen to be, you’ve got to get home in a dead straight line. Across the back gardens of stranger’s houses, locked parks, trespassing on private property – whatever it takes.
One day, Rory pressures his friend Eliot into playing, resulting in a serious accident. Shunned by friends and facing pressure from his furious parents, Rory becomes even more angry and disruptive. When his school suggests helping out a care home, he’s unimpressed. But paired up with Tanker, an eighty-year-old Geordie military veteran, who fought in the Falklands War, things slowly begin to change.
From seeking thrills to finding friends, choosing the right path in life is never a dead straight line. But there is always a way.
Malcolm Duffy
Malcolm was born and bred in Newcastle upon Tyne and now lives in Surrey. After a typical Geordie childhood, his parents moved south and deposited him in South East England. Having acquired a Law degree at Warwick University he worked his way through a host of London advertising agencies, picking up numerous awards for copy, press, TV and radio.
Having left ad-land he worked as Creative Director of Comic Relief, creating campaigns for Red Nose Day and Sport Relief. It was at Comic Relief that he was inspired to swap copywriting for writing and wrote his first novel, Me Mam. Me Dad. Me. His books have all been issue based, with much of the information gleaned from his work for different charities – Comic Relief (domestic violence), Shelter (homelessness), Nessy (dyslexia) and Combat Stress (PTSD).
His debut, Me Mam. Me Dad. Me. was shortlisted for the Waterstones Children’s Book Prize, and alongside Sofa Surfer, Read Between the Lies, and Seven Million Sunflowers has won and been shortlisted for multiple regional awards. All four of his books have been Sunday Times Children’s Books of the Week.
He’s supported in his efforts by his New Zealand wife Jann, and daughters Tallulah and Tabitha, who, under the threat of withholding pocket money, seem to like what he writes.
PaperBound Magazine 