Like many children, Korolev and von Braun both wanted to work with rockets when they grew up. What did you dream of doing?
I think those fortunate enough to harness their childhood dreams and achieve them with outstanding success as adults do seem touched by a fate beyond the ordinary, although sometimes a high price is paid for this advantage. In my own childhood, little emphasis was put on pursuing a career and it was only when I reached university that I began to give this serious thought. I realised that I wanted to get involved in some way with stories, characters and plot – and became involved in creative writing. Then I discovered that the BBC ran a training course for documentary makers and suddenly doors started to open.
Was your family background an influence on your career in any way?
I had a very happy childhood and creativity lay at the heart of it. My father was always most content in his garden, seen against an expanse of lawn or among the apple trees or half hidden by the herbaceous bed. My mother loved painting and interior design and I can see her now, paintbrush in hand, listening to music, the vibrant world of the canvas emerging. We had a lot of fun as a family. I have an enduring image from my childhood of French doors flung wide open onto a summer garden with a profusion of colour and scents and the sound of music coming from somewhere. I think the richness of the experience has helped to give me reserves and resilience which might not have happened from a narrower environment.
As somebody who has combined two careers for many years, did you relate to the engineers struggling to achieve their goals?
Many of the characters I have written about, not just in Space Race, but also Seven Wonders and even Dinosaur Hunters, seem to be driven to the point of obsession, sometimes even to the point of death. I find this theme compelling and I think the truth is I really like a good flawed hero, someone who sets out to achieve the superhuman. It’s even better for me if their goal is not just a selfish ambition but something I can really believe in, something that would benefit everyone. And I like to know that it’s all true; that this really happened. The beauty about all this as a writer is that you don’t have to actually live through the nightmare of turning dreams into reality – you have a ringside seat on all the excitement from the comfort and safety of your study. Yes, I can definitely relate to their struggles – as I think anyone who has ever had a dream would.
‘Many of the characters I have written about seem to be driven to the point of obsession, sometimes even to the point of death. I find this theme compelling and I think the truth is I really like a flawed hero, someone who sets out to achieve the superhuman.’
What or who inspired you to write this book?
The characters themselves. I was amazed when I first learned of Korolev: a man who set out to reach for the stars, yet his remarkable successes were hidden from view. Here was the man behind the headlines that had caught my imagination as a child: the first satellite in space, the first man in space, the first blurry images of the moon itself. It seemed amazing that one man had been the driving force – whilst compelled to live in complete secrecy constantly shadowed by his KGB ‘minder’. There was a kind of justice in bringing him out of obscurity, letting him take a bow. I began to piece together the plot and realised he was in competition with a man he never met from another continent, who stood to beat him to every key goal. It was a highly unusual tale of rivalry, with two talented visionaries and two great superpowers locked in a symbolic race. To add to the intrigue, von Braun was a wonderfully complex character; there was evidence that cast him in a glamorous, heroic light and then equally compelling evidence that cast him as a monster. As I started to plot the characters, I realised this was a story I would write.
Britain courteously shared its information with the Americans only to lose out completely. How would space history have changed if the UK had been a little less polite and secured the blueprints and engineers for itself?
It was very entertaining while making the TV series of Space Race with American, Russian and German co-producing partners that each country was eager to point up the idea that they were the real winner of the race. Without von Braun would the Americans have had the rocket to take them to the moon? The Russians spurred every key step of the race, faltering only as the final goalpost was in sight, with the tragic early death of their charismatic leader. And the Americans, of course, did take that famous ‘giant leap for mankind’. The idea that this could have been a British giant leap, if only our intelligence teams had not been so gentlemanly in sharing all their records, is stretching things a bit – but still – nice thought…
How does producing a TV series affect the writing of the book and vice versa?
The book and the film are very different products and yet the work that is required can be handled in a way that complements both. This is particularly true of the research. A book requires exhaustive and searching enquiry and in 100,000 words it is usually possible to do justice to the complexity and subtleties of the story. I like to take the time to pore over the primary sources and see what the characters wrote in their own words and how they saw their predicament. It is important to find the characters’ own voices – and this invariably complements the film.
The drama documentary form brings its own discipline. Inevitably there are issues in working out how to turn complex history into a film of less than 5,000 words. This can be as basic as where do you start the story – and where end it? How many characters do we need and can we focus the action through just one lead? How much context do we need at each step to enable the audience to appreciate what is at stake for the characters? What’s great when working with scriptwriters and directors on a film is that you can brainstorm how to handle ‘flaws’ in the narrative from a storytelling point of view. I always enjoy the teamwork after the intensity of researching and writing alone and count myself lucky to be a part of both worlds.
Is it difficult to find the motivation to write when you have a full-time job as well?
Sometimes – but the biggest driver is the deadline. If you know the series is due for transmission in the autumn, the publisher has to have the text by April – and if you miss that deadline, you’ve blown it.
‘I had not taken writing as an option seriously until Dava Sobel’s Longitude, but…’
Science and history have been at the forefront of successful publishing for many years. Have any books particularly influenced your own writing?
Probably the greatest practical influence was Dava Sobel’s Longitude. I had not taken writing as an option seriously until then, but this showed there was a huge appetite for a well-written personal true story from history or science. I was thrilled because this was just what I wanted to do and suddenly the market opened up.
Chronologically you’ve moved forwards. Now that you’ve reached the twentieth century, what comes next?
I’ve written a great deal about strong – some would say dominating – male characters and am longing to have a good female lead. I think that will be my next project and I don’t mind which era; it just has to be a great true story.