I am delighted to welcome Annie Lyons, author of Not Quite Perfect to the Books with Bunny blog today. Sisters are a main theme in both of her published novels, so today she is sharing her own experience of sisters (or not!). Over to Annie...
‘So how old is your sister?’
I am momentarily confused by the question. ‘I don’t have a
sister.’
‘You don’t have a sister? But both your books have sisters as
the main characters.’
‘Ye-es.’
‘And yet you don’t have one?’
‘Er no.’ O-oh. Rumbled. Authors are supposed to write about
what they know and I clearly do not know what it’s like to have a sister. ‘I
have a brother though,’ I plead feebly but as I consider my six-foot-two
sibling with his size fourteen feet, I realise that this will not cut the
mustard.
My questioner fixes me with a suspicious frown. I’m for it now. I close my eyes ready to be
lambasted. ‘You write as if you do have a sister,’ she says almost accusingly.
I exhale. ‘Okay. Er, thank you?’
I am relieved but it does make me wonder. Almost
unwittingly, I have put sister relationships at the very centre of both my
novels. Why would I do this? Why didn’t I write about a small girl with a
brother, older by nine years who protected, annoyed and entertained her in equal
measure during their late seventies-early eighties childhood (actually, hand me
my notebook. I might use that one day).
I think there are several reasons for my choice of subject.
Firstly, as we have ascertained I don’t have a sister and therefore would
really rather like one because you always want what you can’t have, don’t you?
A lot of my friends who actually have sisters would say exactly the opposite
and happily trade their sibling for a plate of chips. The truth is that it’s
fun for a writer to imagine what they don’t have, to stretch their mind a
little and pose that salient question, ‘what if?’
The four sisters that I have created over the course of two
novels are all very different but they’re all the kind of women I would happily
spend an evening in the pub with (my litmus test for any lasting friendship).
The Darcy sisters from Not
Quite Perfect would be a hoot. In fact, they do spend the evening in a
version of my local pub with spectacularly messy results. There is a clear
dynamic in Emma and Rachel’s relationship and this is never more apparent than
during the scenes where their parents are present. It is a truth universally
acknowledged that as soon as you are back with your family, often in the place
where you grew up, you resort to type and not always in a good way. When
they’re with their parents, Rachel and Emma forget that they are a mother of
three and a successful editor respectively. They bicker, tease and ridicule one
another like a couple of seven-year-olds. I can’t tell you how much fun it was
to write.
However, when their respective worlds collapse, they offer
each other support but not in a sentimental, gushing way. It is the
straight-talking, uncomplicated language of siblings. The truth will be aired
in all its gory glory. Deal with it. But at the root of all this truth-telling
is love. It’s the sentiment that, ‘you need to hear this because no-one else is
going to tell it to you straight. I’m doing it for your own good.’
So it is with Bea and Lizzie Harris in my second novel, Dear Lizzie. Bea has that similar vein
of wit and character as Rachel but her straight-talking has a more defined
purpose. Her sister, Lizzie has been estranged from her family and normal life
for a long time. Bea is her only real friend and lifeline and when she dies, Lizzie
is devastated and unsure how she will cope. Bea leaves her twelve letters to be
read one a month over the following year. They contain her final wishes for her
sister which she hopes will bring her lasting happiness. They take Lizzie on a
journey filled with unexpected twists and turns that will change her life
forever.
These letters represent the ultimate gesture of sisterly
love. They are Bea’s way of caring for Lizzie after her death and contain
insights that only a sister would know. Bea understands Lizzie completely and
also knows that her sister will do whatever she asks of her. She also knows
that her words will be even more compelling once she is gone. Lizzie is not
only forced to face her beloved sister’s death but also deal with the wishes
and the conflicts they bring without Bea’s guidance. It is tough love delivered as only a sister
can.
I didn’t want the letters to be depressing though. As with
Rachel and Emma, there is wit and warmth at the core of the sisters’ relationship.
Although the loss of Bea is devastating, the humour contained in some of her
letters and the way she recounts their memories and gently teases her sister, offer
a nudging comfort and prevent Lizzie from getting stuck in a grief-flooded rut.
So as you can see, sisters have proved a great source of
inspiration to me and I hope I have done them justice. I loved writing these
characters. I am fascinated by families and their messy, funny, infuriating
dynamics and I think sisters encapsulate the very essence of these dynamics.
No-one tells you the truth more candidly, more accurately and more bluntly than
a sister but then no-one loves you more than a sister either. You can point out
their faults but will not tolerate it if someone criticises them in return. It
is a unique relationship and endlessly fascinating.
As to whether I would like a sister? Possibly, but right now
I’ll settle for my big brother and his size fourteen feet. At least I don’t
have to worry about him borrowing my shoes.
Annie Lyons is the best-selling author of Not Quite Perfect (now available in
paperback) and Not Quite Perfect
Christmas (A Short Story). Her new novel Dear Lizzie is published by Carina and is available as an
eBook.
http://www.carinauk.com/annie-lyons
Twitter @1AnnieLyons
