§ 1. G. Р. Taylor is the Yorkshire vicar {при­ходcкой свя­щен­ник) who sold his motorbike to self-publish 2,000 copies of his first novel, Shadowmancer, a book that was subsequently picked up by publishers Faber & Faber and got to number one in the New York Times bestseller list. His novels bring to one’s mind dark, chilling worlds in which the supernatural threatens to take over, yet he describes his life as a writer in purely functional terms. He is able to name the exact day that he became a novelist: March 21,2002. ‘It was one of those fruitful moments in my life. Harry Potter was becoming very popular. And I thought, “This woman’s written a book. I might write one.” ’

§ 2. ‘ I got a copy of Harry Potter, counted the number of words that were on the page, measured the width of the margin {поля), counted the number of chapters in the book, how many pages were in the book and set my computer screen up so that it would have 468 words on the page. My chapters were the same length as the Harry Potter chapters; I thought, “This must be how you write a book.” ’ Shadowmancer is a simple and uncomplicated fantasy  — and Taylor, who is his own most effective critic, makes few further claims for the novel. ‘It’s a great story, but if I’d written it now, it would be a completely different book. In many ways, it’s a clumsy classic. There are a lot of things in there that I would get rid of. And yet, I think that’s the big attraction. It’s because it’s an incredible adventure story, written by a non-writer, just a storyteller.'

§ 3. Taylor returns to this distinction between writing and storytelling a number of times, distancing himself from grand and lofty ideas of the novelist’s purpose. He describes himself as a ‘fairly uneducated kid’ who ran away to London as a teenager. He is uncomfortable talking at any length about favourite novels or influences beyond J. K. Rowling: T have not read all that many books. I’m not a very literate person.’

§ 4. Taylor was a rock-music promoter in his twenties and remains a showman, happiest in front of a crowd. He describes the talks he gives in schools and at festivals, dressed up as a sea captain or as an 18th-century highwayman in a long black coat. ‘You’re using your face, you’re using your body, you’re acting out what you’re doing.’ The business of putting his thoughts in writing can be problematic in comparison. As a storyteller, in order to demonstrate shock or alarm to an audience he will ‘pause between sentences and show a wide-eyed, staring face. But to describe that in English...’