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What Happened To Will?

  I know some might be asking. Why the name change? What happened to Will? Well, Will Thurston was my great grandfather. He grew up in Suffolk and moved further north when he got married. He worked on fishing boats. He didn't write (as far as I know). Oddly, I ended up moving to the same town where he was from. I work not far from where he lived. The house is no longer there. It was part of an old fishing village of sorts, which was flooded and then demolished. Anyway, I chose the ancestral name to launch my writing career. It was only when the Enoch Flint character came along that I felt my writing change direction somewhat. It was time for a different author identity. A different name. Having recently discovered Raoul Whitfield, a noir fiction author, I thought it might be nice to use my actual name, partly in tribute to his writing, which has partly inspired my current style. So, there you have it. The not-so-interesting tale of how my name changed! I went from ancestral name to...

Damn this Enoch Flint!

 A couple of years ago, the pandemic hit. I had an idea in the back of my mind for a story. One where body parts would turn up in luggage all over the world. One of many ideas. I didn't really bother about it. It was working on a possible children's book. I had already started two different projects, all under the name of Will Thurston (I'll explain the name change, and the old name in a future post). But on an obscure drive through Suffolk one day, Enoch Flint started talking to me. A voice in my imagination dictated chapter one to me, and it's remained almost identical all the way to publication. I had to use my phone to voice record and type it out later. The novel kept coming. I stopped to renovate a caravan to use as my office. Still, the ideas came. I finally finished the novel. Great. A release date a few months away. Then we went on a brief holiday to Orkney. Before we left, I was writing stuff down about book two. Yet again, Flint pestered me. The first draft o...