I wrote the first chapter of Northern Lights sixteen times before I added the daemons.
Yesterday evening I went to hear Philip Pullman in conversation with novelist Maggie Gee, for a charity fundraiser to help save the Kensal Rise library.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say His Dark Materials changed my life. Two years ago, I attempted to write a novel so Pullman-esque in tone and structure, that I accidentally called my boy character Will. (I have 40,000 words you can read right now, if you’re a publisher and want it. The boy is now ‘Max’. His sister is Carys.)
What I loved about Pullman’s admission, above, is the idea that you can’t always plan the magic. When he first wrote the daemon characters he thought they were ‘a lovely dynamic’ and brought the page to life, but, “like most things that don’t add anything to the story, might get in the way later.” He said when he realised the significance of their shape changing it was the most exciting moment of his writing career.
This reminded me of a story I heard about the script for The Sixth Sense, which M Night Shyamalan re-drafted from the first page ten times before he realised (spoiler alert!) the main character, Bruce Willis, was dead.
Can you imagine how different - and less impactful - the film would be if Bruce Willis hadn’t been dead? Can you imagine His Dark Materials without that beautiful connection between human and animal, the intrinsic, physical manifestation of a soul? Re-writing is, clearly, when the page comes alive.
I don’t know about you, but I’m off to redraft every story I’ve ever written.


Copyright Katie Khan 2009-2012
13 Notes