A
quote from Hazel’s website:
“I
write books that explore living life in a way that doesn't make me
want to scream."
We
are so excited to have this talented writer as our guest this week.
Hazel has agreed to a 4Q Interview and is sharing an excerpt from her
novel - Undressing Stone.
Hazel
Manuel is a UK born novelist whose writing follows a career in
education, first as a teacher/lecturer and after as a business leader
within the education sector. Having fallen in love with a French man
she met in India, Hazel now lives and writes in Paris. Hazel’s
route into writing was an unusual one, which draws on her time as CEO
and MD of two successful education companies. Having moved from the
corporate world into full-time writing, Hazel enjoys exploring those
deeper aspects of what it means to be living and striving in our
modern world. Through themes of uncertainty, loss, obsession, power,
change and fear, and of questioning life and the self, the reader
travels with her characters through an archetypical inner journey
that is fundamentally satisfying because it could equally be their
own. Since becoming a full-time writer, Hazel’s books have received
international attention. She travels often, giving talks and running
workshops at literary festivals and writing retreats. Hazel has been
Writer in Residence for Your Writeful Place in France and the UK and
at the Sivananda Ashram in Southern India where she was commissioned
to write a book about Ashram life. She runs a writer’s group for
aspiring novelists in Paris and one for prisoners at Styal Women’s
prison in the UK.
4Q:
Undressing Stone sounds
like an intriguing story. Can you tell us about it and what inspired
it.
HM:
I loved writing Undressing Stone. It is an often quoted cliché
that when we are old we will regret what we didn’t do more than
what we did. I wanted to explore the idea of completely reimagining
your life. The main character, Sian is asked by her therapist ‘if
you were able, how would you redesign your life?’ I wanted to take
a women who people would generally describe as ‘ordinary’ on a
journey of transformation – both in terms of her life situation and
psychologically – and to see where that would lead her.
Secondly,
I wanted to examine the idea that despite the fact that we are taught
that work is paramount in terms of our success, that for many people
it can be difficult to find fulfillment in the usual 9 – 5 grind.
I wanted to explore the notion that what we do to earn money is not
necessarily the most fulfilling or defining part of our lives.
And
thirdly, I wanted to write an ode to introverts. I believe that the
ways in which we measure success are inherently geared towards more
extrovert qualities – being ‘go-getting,’ forceful, flamboyant
are often synonyms for being ambitious, confident and assertive.
Undressing Stone challenges this idea and explores some of the ways
that introverts often struggle in a world that ignores or devalues
the ways in which they express themselves and engage with the world.
4Q:
Our writing is like our children and asking you to pick your favorite
is difficult, but backed into a corner, which novel was the most fun
to write and why?
HM:
A difficult question indeed! I believe that our first novel is like
our first love – it will always hold a special place in the
writer’s heart. Kanyakumari is very special for me for so many
reasons. It opened the way for me to make a life as a writer. It is
set in India which is a country that has called me back time and time
again. And it explores themes which remain interesting to me – not
least of which, what is ‘home?’
The
Geranium Woman was hugely satisfying to write. It explores female
leadership, and whether or not business can be a force for good.
Both of great interest to me, and so pertinent themes in today’s
world. Plus it was fun writing a woman with two lovers
And
of course, a writer should always love their most current book. I
felt such a sense of loss when I finished writing Undressing Stone.
I felt so at home in Sian’s world. And I loved writing the
gothic-mystery element of the story.
4Q:
Please share a childhood anecdote or memory with our readers.
HM:
I was eight years old when I first became aware of a dream. It
wasn’t an actual dream, but rather an image or an idea. A sense of
story began to form in my imagination. I don’t know where it came
from – perhaps from fairy-tales or from myths and legends. Or
maybe it was just an eight-year-old’s expression of the mysteries
inherent in growing up. In any case, the story began with a quest -
a dark path winding off into some undefined future with something
deeply profound – transformational even - at its end. Perhaps the
quest was about becoming the adult I’d eventually be; finding
wholeness, or finding home. I don’t know. I called it ‘The
Search for the Big Orange Poetry Flower.’ I knew that I had to
look for this flower and that my search would end in India. I like
to think that this strange dream is why I set my first novel there –
that Kanyakumari - the first book I wrote – was the flower that lay
at the end of my quest. 
4Q:
Please tell us about your writing habits. What works best for you?
HM:
I always say that the job of a writer involves four things –
writing, reading, thinking and marketing. I’m lucky enough to be
able to write full-time. I don’t write every day but I do one or
more of these four activities every weekday. I’ve always been a
daydreamer and If I didn’t take the time to dream, to engage with
ideas and themes, to explore, then I wouldn’t have stories to
write. I see reading as integral to the job of a writer. To learn
about what works and what doesn’t, to be inspired, to be surprised,
to learn and grow as a writer. And of course marketing is important
because I want people to read my stories, so I spend time networking,
developing my social media platform, engaging with my readers.
When
I write it is in long blocks of time – full days and often weeks at
a time. I start with a theme that I want to explore and the story
develops from there. I don’t usually know the ending of my books
when I start writing them and this keeps me excited by the story.
Often I like to immerse myself in one character – if I am writing a
multi-viewpoint book I spend weeks – sometimes more - in just one
point of view so that I can fully realize
that particular character. And I spend a lot of time editing – I
really enjoy that part of the process.
An
Excerpt from Undressing Stone
Prologue
- Saint Vey, Rural France
‘Never
let the internet make a decision for you.’ I can’t remember now
what Arwel had been talking about, but not wanting to do his bidding,
that’s exactly what I did. I, Sian Evans, a fifty-something
divorcee moved from Cardiff to Saint Vay - a four-house hamlet tucked
away in a forgotten corner of ancient France, perfect for farmers,
old people and escapees. I went because the internet told me to.
And I loved the fact that Arwel was furious
.
‘Good
grief Sian, how can you possibly move there?!’ He had been adamant
that living alone in rural France I’d immediately overdose or be
eaten by French savages. At least there was no chance of the first
occurrence, since I’d stopped taking my medication a month before
and had no plans to resume. I didn’t tell Arwel that of course.
My dear ex-husband, for reasons he would insist are motivated by my
own good, would have been unimpressed. My shrink might have been
less troubled - after all it’s partly his fault I went.
‘Where
is home?’ That was the title of the on-line quiz that sent me here
eleven months, three weeks and two days ago. The answer apparently,
was France. “You’re
chic and sophisticated,”
the quiz proclaimed once I’d answered questions such
Home.
A small word but so cavernous. Home just now is my little cottage,
the garden and the field behind. I’m sitting on an old wooden
bench sipping a glass of wine as I typically do at sunset, the scent
of wet leaves and wood-smoke suffusing the usual tirade of buzzings,
twitterings and rustlings. The meadow as ever is a restless sea of
live things: Crickets, gendarmes, chaffinches, pigeons, a little cat
grey with a bent leg. Two big hares lope past occasionally cocking
their long ears at the slightest sound, but I haven’t seen them
tonight. And there are bats, small ones that fly out of the shadows
at the turn of the day. All this life makes it impossible to be
alone. I don’t feel restless though. It’s as though I’m at
the still centre of it all. Or something like that.
The
sun is setting. That isn’t a metaphor, it actually is setting.
It’s that time of the evening when the trees turn black and spikey
and the world takes on that melancholic sort of air, like it regrets
the futility of the day’s exertions and wants to wallow in
self-pity for a while. I like this time of day. Especially here.
Strange to think it’s always sunset somewhere. When I first
arrived, I used to try to work out when the sun would set in Wales.
And in India. I don’t do that anymore. One sunset is all we can
have at a time and it makes no sense to go chasing someone else’s.
Mine, this evening is rather a dull affair, cold and not very
colourful at all. ‘A
glorious sunset,’ people
say. Since I arrived I’ve been hoping for one worthy of the term,
the kind that people who write and sometimes those who don’t, try
to be poetic about by using too many adjectives. In any case, my sun
has probably sunk behind the horizon now, it’s hard to tell because
it’s cloudy. Again, not a metaphor although, being
post-menopausal I can see how some might say I protest too much on
that front.
Eleven
months is more than long enough to acquire habits. I’ve acquired
plenty since I arrived. And they’re not a French re-packaging of
those I had in Cardiff. Back then, the first thing I’d do each
morning was to dredge the night. Depending on how busy I’d been,
this could take some time. Dreams, wakefulness, fears, worries, all
the night time dwellers of an overactive mind would be excavated and
picked over. I’d consider my discoveries, wary, mistrustful –
whatever we try to suppress will come out in our dreams. I don’t
do that anymore. I don’t need to. These days, either on waking,
or on the now rare occasion that sleep has eluded me, on hearing the
dawn chorus - the countryside is so noisy - I note my mind’s
nocturnal output, and simply acknowledge it.
 |
| Photo by Robert Shortall |
This
morning, I woke with the birds, having left the shutters of my little
cottage open. I lay in bed listening to amorous pigeons and twittery
little things that were probably martins of some sort, competing with
enthusiastic chaffinches whose elaborate warbling ends with the
proclamation ‘it’s
reeeeeal!’ Truth birds. I
stretched languidly enjoying the warmth of my duvet in the early
morning chill, and thought about coffee. It’s then that it
occurred to me. I don’t think I dreamt it, not that I remember
anyhow. It wasn’t a flash of inspiration either. Some residue
from the shifting images of my recent sojourn in my head - or
wherever we go when we sleep - something made me realize: I was
finally naked under my clothes.
To
discover more about Hazel and her novels, please follow these links.
Thank
you Hazel for being our guest this week. All the best with your
writing.
HM:
Thank you so much for featuring me and my work, your questions were
so interesting – I loved thinking about them and how to answer.
A special thank you to my visitors and readers. Please leave a comment, don't be shy. Click on the comment link below.
