When I set out to write Of All Things, We Need Hope, the idea was a complete blueprint in my mind. I wanted to write about one mother’s journey as she picked up the pieces of her life after the senseless murder of her son and about how each mother’s journey is so different that it’s hard to judge or understand. But also, writing a book is a journey of discovery; threads appear as I question and learn alongside my characters.
Hope is a difficult book to talk about because the story only comes into full focus at the end, and to discuss that would be to spoil the experience for the reader. Even writing the book was an exercise in restraint. All the way through, I had to trust that the reader would stay with Heather as she lived through 21 years of internal tension.

One thing I didn’t realise at the time of writing was how far back this particular story went. Recently, I’ve been clearing out my old writing files and I found newspaper cuttings from 30 years ago that I’d kept about people who’d had relationships with prisoners. It’s a phenomenon I was interested in back then, but I never quite found a vehicle to fit a narrative. When I discovered those clippings, I realised that an idea can sit with me for a very long time until I’m ready to write about it.

For me it’s about finding that tone and voice that will suddenly give me a first line. Once that’s in place, I’m ready to write — and usually by hand, which I find allows for more creativity and less backspace.
So Hope is a story about deep grief, which tips into psychological disturbance, and it examines the way Western society neatly packages grief into platitudes and linear timeframes. It’s about the messy aftermath of crime for the family, the community — and also for the perpetrator. There is no more ‘normal’ after such an event, and I wanted to examine that enmeshed web.
Since writing Hope, I’ve discovered a fascination for tarot, and I like to think about how characters fit into the major archetypes.
I’ve been asked how I could write a character who remains so fixed on one course of action over a whole lifetime, and I can see that I’ve brought threads of my own backstory to Heather’s journey. I come from a long line of matriarchs who suffered isolation, war, blitz, loss, death, poverty and influenza, and each one remained silently stoic to the end. I’ve had the opportunity to witness that trajectory in real time, so to write a character who endures so completely came very naturally to me.
Since writing Hope, I’ve discovered a fascination for tarot, and I like to think about how characters fit into the major archetypes. Heather is represented by so much: the Devil – obsession; the Lovers – choice; and the Empress – the mother.
As the writer, I’m represented by The Fool; on a journey of discovery each time, or, to quote writer Joan Didion, ‘I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means’.


















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