So much for that whole 'plan' thing ...

So, that whole planning plan ... Turns out it didn't work out quite as well as I'd planned! Partly I was knackered and couldn't think straight: going from the end of the next Carver book directly into a new standalone without a day's break may not have been the greatest idea I ever had. Partly I was distracted other work and mundane personal/professional tasks. Or maybe I'm just not that great a planner.

I can't think up stories in the abstract, as it were. I have to let them grow organically. Of course I'm acutely aware of pace, structure, research and all the other technicalities of our craft, and I pay a great deal of attention to them. But in the end I rely on a combination of random inspiration - an image popping into my mind; a newspaper story;a line in an old book - logic and alchemy to get the desired results.

That said, my time was not entirely wasted. At least I was able to set up the questions that need to be answered. My protagonist as about to set out on what that movie script guru Robert McKee would probably describe as a Quest. Now, I already know what he is going to find on that quest. But until last week I'd never gone into the mechanics of how he'd reach his goal, who he'd meet along the way, how they would help/challenge/attack him and what he'd learn from them that would enable him to get there.

This was where the application of logic came in. I asked myself questions about characters. The story deals in part with events dating back several decades. So how had the conflicts between certain characters arisen? Why had they never been resolved before now? What pieces of information would certain characters possess? And so on ...

Plus, I started mapping out what I think is absolutely crucial in a thriller: the choreography. By this I mean that one of the absolute keys to the whole process is moving your characters around the fictional stage so that they arrive in the right place at the right time, with a very good reason for being there ... and then giving them things to do that involve action, revelation of character and progression of the plot.

After a few days mooching around, pretending to be deep in thought, I had quite a lot of that stuff sketched out on paper and in my head. I have a couple of strong images of places that I want to use as backdrops for action and I know who I want to be there. The fact that I haven't, at this point, got a clue how I'm going to get to these places, people and scenes is, for me, part of the fun. I don't remotely knock those authors who are disciplined enough to sort out everything in advance. it's just that (a) I can't do it, and (b) if I had successfully got the whole thing worked out, I wouldn't need to write the book. Part of the excitement for me is that I don't have a clue what's going to happen, either. If I did, then it would all just feel like colouring-by-numbers ... NB: I have the attention-span of a three year-old, which is why I have to be kept entertained!

Anyway, now I have a new problem. I have no excuse not to get back to writing again. The screen is staring at me like a cold swimming pool. I know I've got to dive in. Or maybe I should make myself a spot of lunch. Yes, that sounds like an excellent plan ... !!

Big bad bankers? Never!

by Cyrus Moore

In 2002, after many years in the City, I left corporate banking to set up independently. In my spare time I wrote “City of Thieves” – the story of one man’s fight to protect his honour in a world where honour holds no value.

When you’ve worked in any industry for long enough, you reach a point when you ask yourself a simple question: “Do I do what is right, or do I do what makes money?” All industries have an unethical side to them – the tobacco industry denied that their product caused cancer; the supermarket industry destroyed the quaint look of our high streets; and the motor car industry poisoned our planet. But ethics within the banking industry are fundamental to its very existence: banks don’t sell cigarettes, food or cars – they sell trust. You go to a bank, you hand over your money and you trust that the bank will return your money whenever you ask for it. When an industry is based on trust, there is always scope for abuse.

Over the last two decades, as Western governments gradually relaxed regulatory controls over the banking sector, bankers began to systematically abuse that trust. They used their customers’ money to make high risk bets. When the profits came rolling in, they paid themselves huge bonuses; but when the bets turned sour they walked away leaving the taxpayer to foot the losses.

The City, by virtue of what it is, attracts very clever people. But is also attracts greedy, evil, dysfunctional people – people that some psychiatrists might say harbour serious character flaws. In order to understand the mess the City is in today, you need to get inside the minds of some of the leading players who messed it up – minds that can be filled with a toxic mixture of greed, arrogance and self-importance. Some of the egos in the City are so far off the ground you’d need a lasso to drag them down to earth.

The culture of greed, arrogance and deceit that investment banks had fostered for years is now facing intense public scrutiny. There were many contributors to the banking crisis we all now face, but unethical working practices within the investment banking sector played a pretty big part. And despite politicians’ best efforts many of these practices still remain rife in the City today.

‘City of Thieves’ is the story of an analyst who dared to challenge such working practices. It’s a murder thriller written from the perspective of an outsider entering the unforgiving world of investment banking. Whilst the book is pure fiction, the issues it raises – particularly the rules, the ethics and the culture within the City – are very real.

All throughout my career I saw the good guys in the City fall like flies. Those who put their principles first were laughed at and shown the door. They weren’t part of the club. Greed was good. Well, today nobody is laughing at the good guys. There aren’t enough of them.

The problem with human nature is that we never really see things clearly until they smack us in the face. Back in 2003, once I had finished my manuscript, I sent it out to several agents. Not a single one was interested. Dismissively, they told me that “a story of the greedy world of banking would never sell.” Five years later the credit crunch came along and I had more literary offers than I could handle. The other problem with human nature is that we never learn from our mistakes.

[As published in Crime Time]