O is for original version. My first attempt at telling the story of Foul and Fair (then going by the title House of Red Cards) came before I wrote Dead Man Singing. I started writing what turned out to be my debut novel while I was unsuccessfully submitting House of Red Cards to agents and publishers. The experience of writing that initial version definitely fed into writing Dead Man Singing and helped me to make that a stronger book, while the lessons learned on my publishing debut, in turn, helped as I reworked the earlier attempt. Strictly speaking this means that my first book is really my second book, while my second book is both my first book and my third. Try to keep up.

I’ve said before that in the original version, James seemed to get away with all the morally dubious things he does just a little too easily. There was no sense of danger closing in, of his misdeeds stalking and potentially catching up with him, which is where Hayley came in. Having decided on adding a new point of view to the narrative, I had to make sure that her story worked on its own terms – it was no good adding her if she was just there for her impact on James, I had to give her a worthwhile story arc of her own and then weave the two tales together.

To make room for Hayley, there was a lot of other material that had to be cut from the story. This included a sub-plot about James’ daughter Poppy and her progress learning the violin. The early stages of her musical journey are still in the book, but sadly we don’t get to see the pay-off for all her hard work. There was also the account of Christmas Day in the Hogan household which I was rather fond of and which found itself in, then out, then back in, then finally out. As entertaining as I thought it was, it didn’t move the plot along at all or do anything to enhance the themes of the book. The brief account of Hayley’s Christmas Day which did make it into the book has a lot more significance, even if it lacks the indefatigable Poppy and her relentless enthusiasm. As all authors know, sometimes you must kill your literary darlings.