Chapter Text
It is a truth universally acknowledged that an author is never entirely happy with their own work. I, Lucy Joan Carlyle, am no exception. Several years ago, when the memories were still fresh in my mind, and the Problem was still a problem, I wrote and published several books detailing my exploits as an agent with the famous Lockwood & Co. Recently, I made the ill-advised decision to re-read my books. And there are many (many, many!) things in those books that I would like to change. And clarify. And completely re-write. So, although I know this manuscript is unlikely to see the light of day, I’m here to set the record straight.
I began writing those books a few years after the fall of Fittes, once the dust had settled and most of the incriminating evidence about the conspiracy at the heart of Fittes and Rotwell had been leaked to the press. With the threat of legal action no longer looming over my head for breaking the NDA, the time had come to tell my side of the story. And so, I did. And much to my surprise, my books were successful! Much of this success I attribute to my wonderful editor, Evelyn.
Evelyn very rightly suggested I publish my memoirs as a series of books for the ten to twelve age range (what she called ‘middle readers’ before I knew what that meant). This meant, however, that events as they actually occurred, often had to be edited for adult content (unsupervised teenagers aren’t known for their temperance, continence, or restraint), plot structure (because kids don’t want to a read a book that’s just angsty exposition with a few action scenes sprinkled in), brevity (just get on with the story already), too much exposition and not enough action (sorry, I know kids want to read action but it’s boring to write as the author. Also, I remember sounds, and sights, and smells, and feelings, but the action just leaves my brain after it’s done. Except for notable instances such as the red room (the source of many, many nightmares) or the battle with Marissa Fittes), or just omitted entirely. Judging from the sentence I just tried to write, I am yet again in need of an editor…
Now, several years on, I’m enjoying a brief peace before another life-changing event: the birth of my first child. No, there’s no surprise reveal here: it’s Lockwood’s. That, dear reader, would have been quite the plot twist! I do apologize to those who were hoping that it would belong to Kipps.
Before I’m overwhelmed with sleepless nights and nappies, I’m spending a few months cataloguing all the ways in which my original books (Staircase, Whispering Skull, Hollow Boy, Shadow, and Empty Grave) have disappointed me in re-reading them. Much to my chagrin, the list keeps growing.
Short of re-writing all my books from the very beginning, the best I can do is amend parts of the books that I’m the most unhappy about. There are many places to begin (my mother, my relation to Marissa Fittes, Quill Kipps, George, Skull, funerals, other agents we knew...the list just keeps growing), but having recently become the godmother to Kipps’ baby daughter, I thought I’d start with him. Or, rather, him and me. Or Us. Or the part of the story that never made it into the books.
So, dear reader, here for your enjoyment is a selection of conversations between myself and Evelyn and parts of my original manuscript that were omitted in the original publication of my novels.