Recently, Daily Grommet spoke to author Kate Inglis about her new book: The Dread Pirate Crew: The Dread Crew: Pirates of the Backwoods. 

How did the idea of writing a story about pirates happen to come about?
Four years ago, I was hiking through an old woodlot with a six-year-old who was cold and wet and hungry, and we still had a long way to go. I remember telling him SHHHH and “Eric, you need to pay attention when you’re in the woods, because they might come along and squash us,” and he said “Who?” and I looked around and saw trees and splinters and snowy moss and bogs and it just popped into my head: “The Wood Pirates.”

As we walked, Eric asked all kinds of questions that needed answering. “What makes their ship go?” And, “Why do they want junk?” And, “What do they look like?” And, “What do they smell like?” And, “What do they do for fun?”

I got home and felt a need to capture it before I forgot—a story about a pirate-tracker named Eric who lived in a very remote and old farmhouse in the middle of Nova Scotia with goats and peacocks and an old barn with a stone foundation and an iron hulk of a kitchen wood oven, all just like the real thing. Plus pirates.

Writers often talk about their “muse.” What does your muse look/feel like?
My muse is a plethora of voices that answer questions. It’s uncanny how those voices don’t feel like they’re coming from me. As long as I pay attention, they tell me everything I need to know. So I guess you could say my muse has maggots in his beard and horrible manners. That and a whole lot of Johnny Cash.

What did you find to be the hardest part of the writing process for the book?
When you’re a creative, work-at-home parent, everyone wants a piece of you. Your kids want you to play lego. Your supper is sticking to the bottom of the pot. Your corporate client wants a feature article on the effect of social media on mass brands in a fragmented market. Your husband wants you to curl up on the couch for an evening and watch a movie and have you be mentally as well as physically present.

In the midst of all that, a small girl—a pirate scout—climbs through a window and whispers in your ear I may be small, but I’m the fastest they’ve ever seen. And you’re entranced, and you fear she’s going to disappear back out through that window if you don’t drop everything and write about her. Then a small voice chirps from the other room HA! HA HA. LOOK. FUNNY POOP.

What did you find to be the best part of the writing process for the book?
For me, the most enjoyable aspect of writing the book was the process of editing. Mapping out the story—the task of getting through 40,000 words that tell a compelling story—that can feel like some unending epic journey. In comparison, editing is fish in a barrel. You step away from the finished first draft for a while and you come back to it with feedback and perspective, strangely refreshed. Revisiting sentences and paragraphs and chapters is so easy and fun, and the impact of good editing is so profound and instantaneous.

You write a novel. Then you rest. Then you return to it with a new eye, feeling less attached to your own cleverness.

This is critically important. When you finish a large piece of work, you’re left with this self-satisfied film, pleased with what you’ve accomplished. That film has to be peeled back or you run the risk of falling in blind love with your own words—words that would be so much stronger with a vigorous edit. You trim a sentence by half and it’s ten times stronger and it’s suddenly got cadence and feels artful and goes ZAP and it makes you feel high. It’s a drug.