Ahmet Zeki sat in the shade of a red awning that covered half the tables outside the restaurant. A white straw trilby covered his bald head. Small in stature, his rounded shoulders made him appear smaller than he really was. His white summer suit was creased, especially the jacket, which suggested he spent most of the day wearing it despite the heat.
The square was packed with tourists and shoppers taking lunch. Picking up a glass of tea, Ahmet sipped slowly while fingering a cream baba sitting on a plate in front of him. A refreshingly gentle breeze blowing off the Bosphorus helped to soothe a growing headache. Anthony was late, but then the boy was always late.
Ahmet sipped more tea. Contemplating his trip to Cyprus he was under no illusion as to the enormity of the task ahead. It was all very well for the bloody Greek to issue orders from Athens but if anything went wrong it wouldn’t be his neck in the noose. He took a large handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his forehead. If only things had been taken care of at the time. He remembered telling Paul as soon as the letter arrived that there was only one solution. Paul hesitated and when he finally made up his mind it was too late. Damn the old man.
He looked at his watch again. High up in the clear blue sky above a jetliner screamed in on its final approach to Ataturk airport, sixteen miles to the west. He watched it pass behind minarets standing like sentries across the city skyline. It eventually disappeared behind the large dome of a mosque.
The above has not been edited fully.
This passage took probably no more than an hour to write. The research took a day. I wanted to create a picture of life in Istanbul. Having never been there, I needed to know what the city was like during the summer at noon. I needed to know what sorts of snacks the Turks liked and what they drank, as a lot of them are Muslim. I wanted to know where the smart restaurants were and what they looked like. Where was the nearest airport and what was it called. What did the skyline look like. What was the weather like at that time of the year. What did the young affluent youth look like. There were a thousand questions and I wanted to know the answer to them all. If I could read the finished work and see and taste and smell then I knew the reader could as well. I even checked to see if any airline had a flight that crossed directly over the city. The worst criticism that can be levelled at a writer is that they got their facts wrong. Of course 90% of what I learned about Istanbul still remains in my head. Only 10% made it through the creative process onto paper. Despite that, the feeling that the author knows his or her stuff and has created a believable picture will increase the pleasure of good story telling for the reader. And that's what story telling is all about.
2012 promises to be a really special year for me. It is one thing to tell a good story but a good story can be spoiled by bad editing or the lack of it. I am very privileged, I know, to have found one of the best editors and in that I have had to learn another lesson that all good writers have to come to terms with. Patience. The editing process takes time and it cannot be rushed. It will be another year of hard work for me. It will be frustrating because I want to move on to the next story but I must stay focused and finish. Publishing the novel will be both a great success and a great relief.
Several years ago I wrote another novel entitled Amber, Amber On The Wall. In it there was a scene about the Kranzler, a famous restaurant along the Ku'damm in Berlin. I spent time looking at photo's and reading up on its history so that when my nasty character, a Stasi agent, sat there for coffee, I was able to see everything around me and knew how far he had to go when following an American. Four years ago my wife and I went to Berlin for Christmas and when we walked down the Ku'damm the Kranzler came into view as it did in the story. We sat in the same chairs as Leiberman and ordered his coffee and pastry that he loved. We then traced the steps of the American and spent the most enjoyable day reliving the book. One day I hope it will be published but for now, the memory of that visit still inspires me to research thoroughly so that readers experience believability.
So this year will be spent editing but I will be treating myself to a little research now and again. Malta and Italy are the locations for the next story in the second of a series and I cannot wait to start. I have visited both countries, Italy so many times, and look forward to creating really nasty villains putting my hero to the ultimate test.
There is another plus for research. Think of all the 90% that has not been used but still up there in the memory. What a glorious reference library we can recall from our mind's eye for future work.
2012 will be a good year.
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