The Silent Children
Vienna is one of my favourite cities. I don’t know what it is – whether it’s the grandeur, the history, the art – but something about the place has found its way into my heart. And so I wanted to write something as a sort of homage to the city I love.
And then there’s my love of ghost stories. I’ve struggled, however, to find one as good as The Woman in Black or The Turn of the Screw. So, a bit selfishly, I decided to write a story which I would love to read. One, which, at the end of the last page, makes you want to go back to the beginning again. It’s hard. It’s particularly hard as I get scared quite easily. My better half says my choice of genre is a bit ironic, but then again I love the challenge of it.
And it has been a challenge. Several drafts later, I came to the conclusion that enough was enough. I could spend the rest of my life tweaking and adjusting, so I decided to put the story to rest.
It is any good? I’ve no idea – that’s for you to decide.