'I could have died just then...no one knew where I was. I was off the map. Alone, Greeked into jibberish, crouched down there in the dirt...'
Being a beatnik is tough going. So is getting dumped by your boyfriend, and not having much of a life to speak of. But does Vicky deserve all the heartache she comes across in the desert?
A kooky town, a mysterious boy, and a bunch of wackos hiding out in the scrub isn't exactly what Vicky has in mind when she dreams of taking to the road. But that's exactly what she gets.
Eat Well (the whole title is such a mouthful) tells the story of a girl from the suburbs who, encountering too much stress from her ex, decides to visit her Aunt in the outback for a couple of weeks. Vicky is niave and desperate not to go home, and when a local couple mysteriously disappear, she convinces the brother of one of the missing to take her along on his search. Vicky wants adventure and excitement - an escape from her suburban confinement - but this story is very much a case of BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR, IT MIGHT COME TRUE...
This story has, from what I can gather, my most swoon-worthy boy lead. Females of all ages, and a few males of that inclination, fell in love with Scott. Is it because he cooks? (The book's title represents his life philosophy). Or is it that classic, stoic Australian male thing? He's not overtly cool, or funny, or clever, and he's certainly not completely trustworthy. When I was writing him, I didn't set out to create this hunk that would have librarians swooning - my only conscious thought was to try and subvert some of the stereotypes of "outback men". I may have gone too far.
I don't know where the character of Scott came from. Part of him is probably Paul, my partner, who's a food obsessive, and is prone to say things like 'Forget the food? Never!' But Scott's sly, secretive side is one of those things that just sprang from nowhere, fully formed. Right from the first draft, he stepped onto the page as this shy, stoic figure who it was impossible for Vicky not to fall for. As for Vicky - well, she's some kind of teenage version of me, without doubt. All that burning passion to be MORE than her boring suburban origins suggested she was: the conviction that if she didn't somehow break out of the mould, she'd die: the romanticism and idealism which Scott initially criticised, but was ultimately envious of.
The writing and publishing of Eat Well was remarkably without drama. It was the first time I conceived, wrote, edited and had published a work that didn't involve splitting with publishers, turmoil with agents, swearing off the whole literary trip, or some other drama worthy of a Law and Order franchise. I took the lessons learnt from writing Glue - that is, 1. have strong characters
2 a good location
3 know where it's going to end
Sounds very simple, but it took a dunce like me three books to figure that out. I didn't plot the story much - just a rough synopsis to begin with. That way, it gives the characters a chance to direct the play. And they did with this. I had no idea, for instance, that Scott was going to take Vicky to - well, that place over the sand-dunes. And his true motivations didn't become obvious to me until the end of the first draft. I like characters to surprise me. You set them up well, and hopefully they take on a life of their own. I think that's why this story succeeded - Vicky and Scott and the other, more minor faces, are real. Sometimes, PAINFULLY real.
Following Eat Well was going to be hard. I gave it two full years before I even started The Marowack Two.