The Tudor Secret - C. W. Gortner [126]
ST. MARTIN’S GRIFFIN
A Conversation with C. W. Gortner
Tell us about your background and how you decided to become a writer.
I grew up in southern Spain; my mother is Spanish and my father was American. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated by history. A ruined summer castle that once belonged to Isabella and Ferdinand was a stone’s throw from where I lived; I was raised not only reading history but seeing it all around me. My mother tells me that I was always writing stories in my notebooks and illustrating them; indeed, even while pursuing other careers, I kept writing. I began to seriously contemplate becoming a published novelist in my mid-twenties. It took almost another twenty years before that actually happened!
Who are some of your favorite authors?
Too many to cite here; I have wide-ranging and eclectic taste. Growing up, I was influenced by classic writers in the genre—Alexandre Dumas, Rafael Sabatini, Daphne du Maurier, Jean Plaidy, and Margaret Campbell Barnes, among others. Ms. du Maurier in particular was so skilled in her ability to transcend barriers; she proved as easily at home with epic historical tales such as The Glass-Blowers as with psychological suspense, like my favorite of hers, My Cousin Rachel, or her international bestseller, Rebecca. Today, there are many wonderful historical fiction writers who acknowledge their debt to our past writers, while forging new ground. Historical fiction is more popular than ever, mainly because so many gifted writers have chosen to work in the genre.
Are there any historical figures you feel a particular affinity toward?
I hold a lifelong love for Anne Boleyn, and hold great affection for her daughter, Elizabeth. I’m also rather fond of the historical women I’ve written about in my previous novels, the courageous Juana of Castile and the formidable Catherine de Medici. The Tudor court, however, is an especially interesting and dynamic place to explore, in that within a relatively short span of time so much happened politically and socially. The drama, intrigue, and tumult of the Tudors have, for good reason, captured generation after generation of readers; it seems there’s always something new to discover about them.
What was the inspiration for The Tudor Secret and its hero, Brendan Prescott?
Years ago, I read a fascinating book titled The Elizabethan Secret Services by Alan Haynes. I had known through my other readings that William Cecil and Francis Walsingham developed one of the most sophisticated systems of intelligence in the world on behalf of the embattled queen, who faced enemies both in England and abroad for much of her long reign. But I’d never really stopped to consider the details, such as what the nascent seed of that service might have looked like before Elizabeth took the throne or how an innately skilled but otherwise common person such as Brendan Prescott might have ended up working for her. I thought to myself, Hmm. This has promise. Within a few days, after a conversation with a friend who’s also a Tudor aficionado, I began to draft the outline for the novel you’ve just read, featuring a spy who becomes the secret confidant and protector of Elizabeth, rousing the enmity of her lover, Robert Dudley, even as the spy uncovers the key to his past—a key that threatens the kingdom’s future.
Do you adhere to historical fact in your novels or do you take liberties if the story can benefit from the change? To what extent did you stick to facts in writing The Tudor Secret?
While I believe historical novelists should adhere to historical facts whenever possible, even as we spin a tale that is by and large a fictional re-creation of past events, history can be complicated and even inconvenient, particularly for the novelist. We often walk a delicate line in balancing the factual requisites of our story with the obligation to entertain our reader. It’s not an easy feat, by any means. Nonfiction writers have the luxury of saying: “This and that happened, but we don’t know why or how,” but the fiction writer must make a determination.