Where did the idea for The Household Guide to Dying originate and how long did it take to go from idea to page?

The whole process was a long and complex one. Around 2003, I had the idea for the core of the story, which focused on a woman dying and leaving a young family, and deciding to plan her daughters’ weddings (which of course she won’t be attending), to show how much she loved them. But does that mean she is eccentric and overcontrolling? These are the sort of questions she—and the novel—tackle as she proceeds to take charge of affairs prior to death. I wanted to write about something ordinary but also alien, which is what I think dying and death have become in our society, and to do it in a fresh way; hence the narrator’s decision to write a guide to dying at the same time she is experiencing it. She wants to be almost mischievous in the face of death, and to make something useful of her dying. But the novel in its broader sense—a book about dying—originated years before, and it had a definite starting point with my re-reading of John Forbes’ wonderfully witty poem, ‘Death, an Ode’; the first two lines of this poem remain as the epigraph of the novel.

I’d imagine writing about this topic would not be an easy task, yet you’ve managed to avoid  sentimentality. How difficult was the writing process?

There were some challenges, both creative and personal. I’m so pleased that you think I’ve avoided all sentimentality, as that was definitely my aim. And I believe that humour can enhance anything, even dying and death. But that presented me with a major challenge: how to write humorously about a topic so challenging? How to make jokes about dying without being flippant or offensive, especially as I was not dying myself? I tinkered with the voice for ages, switching from first to third person, back, and so on. Once the voice was established I realised I could make her as audacious and facetious as I wanted.

Structurally there are interesting things going on (book quotes, letters and moving back and forward in time). What was behind this structuring?

Giving relief to the reader. I mean it. The novel is full of confronting ideas and scenes and I wanted to make sure the reader never felt smothered by all that. Sections like the Dear Delia letters offer a different tone and mood, and they also introduce some little narratives of their own. And alternating the present time story with the past meant that some mystery regarding the narrator’s life as a young woman exists. But this structure isn’t something I imposed: it’s organic to the story, which is partly about the narrator confronting aspects of her past that she’s suppressed, and this is only possible when she is preparing for her own death and, more particularly, researching the topic of dying for her book.

Can you share with us how you researched the novel (there’s a particularly vivid autopsy scene that comes to mind!)?

The autopsy section (and I attended an autopsy some years beforehand) is the most researched part of the book. When I wrote up the material from this autopsy I wasn’t sure how I would be using it, so I just sat on it until I found a place for it in the novel. Apart from that, I did very little research other than sitting at home with my books. I was partly inspired by and used Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management, Jane Austens’ Pride and Prejudice, and numerous poets. Over my life I’ve attended more funerals than I can remember, so there was hardly any need to research that aspect.

What’s next?

I’m trying to write a series of essays on the theme of reading, plus some shorter fiction works. I have also commenced another novel. The best I can say about that is that it’s incipient. Though I do have a title.

This article from Australian Bookseller & Publisher magazine is reproduced by kind permission of Thorpe-Bowker, a division of R R Bowker LLC. © Copyright 2008, Thorpe-Bowker

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