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 I
believe strongly that you should write about things that
you are passionate about. Writing about things you have
a vague knowledge of and interest in will never make for
a convincing story.
At school I remember turning the rather dull titles we
were given for our essays to something that I actually wanted
to write about. It meant I frequently got comments about
being off the point - especially as I nearly always wrote
about the Crucifixion in some form or other - but I
had the satisfaction of having expressed something important
to me.
I love sport and I love reading about it - I always have.
The best job I've had yet was to be the compiler of Sports
Stories in the Kingfisher Story Library. I got to read lots
of sports stories and chose the ones I liked best for the
book. A piece of cake, you might think. But it wasn't. I
discovered how few stories there are out there about sport,
apart from football. At its best, sport is enthralling,
dramatic and exciting, it puts you through the emotional
mill and leaves you gasping but satisfied - and the best
sport stories do much the same. But in the best sport fiction,
something is worked out, achieved, that goes beyond the
mere winning of a trophy.
Sport plays an important part in people's lives - young
people's in particular - whether as participant or supporter,
which is why it is such a resonant subject for fiction.
Perhaps more than any other genre, the sport story gets
to the heart of children's real lives. As well as providing
gripping entertainment, it is an excellent medium to deal
with issues of substance: bullying, racism, jealousy, lack
of self-confidence and esteem, independence, individualism
and teamwork, determination, loyalty, friendship, hopes
and dreams…
The combination of compelling on-field action and strong
emotional content is what has always most drawn me to sports
stories - both as reader and writer. My new series Bad
Boyz is very much in that mould. The books are about
seven children who are always in trouble at school and are
formed into a football team to play in a local Little League
as a kind of last resort. The characters are based on some
very real children from difficult - deprived really - backgrounds
in a school that I visit a lot in Swansea. They get by with
lots of humour and that's reflected in my stories. As to
the football action, watching my son play two or three times
a week gives me plenty of material!
Some football story openings:
"Goal!" The keeper never stood a chance.
It was a lousy draw. A terrible, heartbreaking gut-wrench
of a draw. Of all the teams left in the cup, they had to
go and get Durnsford. Away. They might as well kiss their
dreams goodbye.
"Roy Keane ate my nana's goldfish!" read the
headline.
I found the boots under a bush down by the railway.
That night a strange glimmering figure appeared at the
end of my bed.
"Wh-who are you?" I stammered.
The figure pointed a long, almost transparent finger. "You'll
find out soon enough, son," he uttered in a shivery
voice. "Now get your kit on. It's time to play."
"Pass it, pass it, PASS IT!" I screamed. But
I may as well have saved my breath. John Plaistow had never
passed the ball in his life. And he wasn't about to start
now.
Alan Durant - November 2001
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