Q: With the publication of The Paris Muse (Bloomsbury, 4^th July 2024), you are now the author of four novels. I’d love to know why you write historical fiction and how you learned to. Was it a gradual process or did you go on a course?

One reason I am drawn to historical fiction is that there are so many exceptional women who have been forgotten by history. I want to bring their stories to light and give them the recognition they deserve. In addition, while some aspects of life have changed for women over time, many issues remain the same. History isn’t just a series of dry facts in the past. It’s a narrative that we live and relive in the present.

I would have loved to have taken a course in creative writing, but the timing never worked out. Instead, I learned to write by working, and working, and getting it wrong, and trying again. I wouldn’t say I have mastered my craft yet – I’m still working on it!

Q: The Paris Muse has been part of a wider surge of interest in Dora Maar and her work, from new exhibitions and plays to retrospectives in major newspapers. How did you first come across Dora's life and work?

I am so happy about the surge of interest in Dora and her work. It feels like she is finally having her moment. I first came across her when Tate Modern gave a retrospective of her work in 2019-2020. Her photographs grabbed me and would not let go. They are radical and fantastical, imbuing the everyday with an uncanny atmosphere that is both mesmerising and unsettling.  I had to know more about the woman who took them.

Q: All your novels are based on real figures from the past. What was the most exciting research trip you’ve taken for one of your books?

I visited the Eastern Highlands of Zimbabwe while researching The Dragon Lady, which is based on the life of Lady Virginia Courtauld. There, I stayed at her former home – part French Chateau, part fairytale castle – now owned by the National Trust of Zimbabwe and run as a hotel. The property boasts one of the most celebrated botanical gardens in the country, a lush, enchanted place. I slept in Virginia’s bedroom, preserved exactly as it was in her time, complete with the ring mark left by her nightly glass of gin on the bedside table. The experience made me feel incredibly close to her living, breathing presence.

During my stay, I stumbled on a child’s unmarked grave among the trees. The hotel staff believes that the child’s ghost haunts the property and wants to make her presence known. There was a sad and eerie atmosphere lingering around the grave, powerful enough to keep me awake at night, waiting for her to appear. She didn’t, but she made her way into my book. Once, when I was at home in London writing about the ghost, my water glass cracked for no reason, sending shivers down my spine. Remembering it still gives me goose bumps, but I love it when the discoveries I make during research trips change the course of the novel.

Q: What can we find on your writing desk?

In short: chaos. Books (some in piles, some open and face down), pens, papers, my laptop, my notebook, forgotten cups of coffee, and a photograph of my children. But it’s a fertile kind of chaos and suits me. Somehow, the words come.