husband, and York, UK, where she enjoys living in history, lingering over teas, and knocking around in pubs.
Her new novel is And By Fire.
My Q&A with the author:
How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?Visit Evie Hawtrey's website.
Generally I am rubbish at titles. Absolute rubbish. That’s not a new discovery for me, because, although this is my first foray into crime writing, I’ve been a published historical novelist (Sophie Perinot) for over a decade. So, I get stressed around titles because they matter. And I am also very open to input from my agent and editor when titling my books.
In the case of And by Fire, however, the title is mine and I am rather proud of it. I think it takes the reader deep into both timelines in my crime novel (modern-day London & London 1666), while simultaneously connecting them.
And by Fire is excerpted from a longer phrase, “and by fire, resurgam,” from a taunting note written by my modern-day murderous arsonist on the back of a unusually placed necktie. The word resurgam (Latin for “I shall rise”), come up repeatedly in the novel—spotted by my contemporary detectives, DIs Parker and O’Leary, on the south transcept of St. Paul’s Cathedral; on the charred page of a book that floats down at the feet of architect Sir Christopher Wren during the horrific Great fire of London, offering him a moment of reassurance and inspiration.
Why not include resurgam in my title or even make it the single-word title of the book? Because foreign words, along with words that are not easy for readers to spell (and thus search), are big no-nos in the publishing industry. So Resurgam was out from the get-go. Other titles I did consider include: From Fire, As to Ashes, and The Hawk and the Phoenix. But I think And by Fire best evokes the effort that it takes, whatever your passion or profession, to rise from ashes—to never give up—while at the same time leaning into a central theme in the book: what type of sacrifice can be justified to achieve one’s personal ends? Ultimately that is the pivotal question in both timelines of And by Fire—what can and should we justify in the name of art? My resounding answer is self-sacrifice, but not the sacrifice of others.
How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your novel?
My teenage self wouldn’t be surprised to find adult me writing novels—after all I cut my teeth telling stories to the neighborhood kids on our walk to and from school (30 minutes each way, but not uphill both ways). I do, however, think teen me would be surprised by this foray into crime after a decade long career in historical fiction (as Sophie Perinot). After all, I was a history major in college but I’ve never murdered anyone (no matter what my current search history may suggest).
Seriously though, maybe teen me should have expected this. I like to surprise people—including myself. And my voracious appetite for reading certainly included classic mysteries by the likes of P.D. James and Agatha Christie. On top of that my love for PBS/BBC mystery TV series started in my pre-adolescent days and continues to the present day. Readers will find references to some of my favorite BBC detectives—including fierce, feminist inspiration Jane Tennison of Prime Suspect, and clever Endeavour Morse—in And by Fire.
Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?
Middles. I am a contrarian aren’t I.
But seriously, I knew what the opening crimes in each of my dual timelines were going to be, before I wrote the opening lines of And by Fire, along with who committed them. In the case of my 1666 timeline, I knew what the “oh my God” unexpected crime twist was as well. In my modern timeline I knew my killer’s motivation for his sculptures using burnt flesh as well as burnt wood. But I am not an outliner, so, while I had ideas for the additional, escalating crimes in the modern timeline, as well as a handful of pre-determined clues for my detective teams working in both the present day and the 17th century, I genuinely had to solve multiple murders set more than three-hundred-and-fifty years apart as I went along. In a weird way that was sort of like being all of my detectives—DI Nigella Parker of the City Police of London; DI Colm O’Leary of Scotland Yard; Lady Margaret Dove, maid-of-honour to the queen; and Etienne Belland, royal fireworks maker to King Charles II—while at the same time playing God. Except I wasn’t a very effective God, because quite often my characters failed to listen to me.
Sure, there were days when I charged ahead at the speed of an inferno (sorry couldn’t resist), exceeding and even doubling my expected word count, and ending my workday with an “you’ve got this” adrenaline rush. But most of the time, like my detective protagonists, I felt as if I was taking one step forward and two back. Or as if I was seeing or hearing something important at a crime scene without quite being able to grasp why it was a key puzzle piece.
Eventually I worked it out. The puzzle pieces fell into place, and I—or rather my fictional detectives—brought “the malefactors to book” (as Kirkus Reviewsput it). Writing the final scene in each of my timelines felt like crossing the finish line at a marathon. I am delighted with how my mysteries, both modern and historical, were resolved as well as with how crimes past and present tied together. I only hope readers will be equally satisfied.
Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?
I feel several very deep connections to my modern timeline heroine, DI Nigella Parker of the City of London Police. I am not claiming to be as fierce as Ni is, but I gave her a “gift” of sorts—her fear of fire is my own. The house address, and the names may be different, but the core story at the root of Ni’s fear is basically the same one that sparked my own. Additionally, DI Parker and I have a similar approach to things that cause us anxiety—we try to kick them in the teeth (metaphorically). What you can’t conquer destroys you—Nigella has that thought in And by Fire, it’s a mantra for her. It is also mine.
On a less serious note, Ni and I share a couple of favorite perfumes—ironically each with underlying notes of smoke. I wore one while writing much of the book: Iris Cendre by Naomi Goodsir. When I want to summon my inner Nigella—inside or outside the writing realm—Iris Cendre is my go-to bottle.
Writers Read: Evie Hawtrey.
--Marshal Zeringue