Q1: Your novel Lost In Ibiza has rich cultural and environmental themes which are explored through your two central characters, twenty-one-year-old Alice and her recently discovered biological father, who is a wealthy property developer. Their complex relationship is challenged by their vastly different values, and exacerbated by the island setting which envelopes them. When you started writing, did you have a very clear idea from the outset as to what you wanted your readers to take away from the story?   

I always wanted to tell the story of a father and daughter meeting for the first time. I had been very struck by Martin Amis’ account of meeting his daughter Delilah for the first time when she was 21. And I also always knew I wanted to set the story in Ibiza where I have had a base for 25 years now. And I also knew that I wanted to use the island’s environmental challenges as a microcosm of the issues the world is facing – I have been involved in environmental activism since 2008. But how to unite these elements turned out to be a ten-year conundrum!

Q2: There exists for many a preconceived idea that Ibiza is a “party island”, but that is clearly only one part of it. You have a strong connection to the island, which is where you have your ecological farm and close connections to the community. Did you feel a particular sense of responsibility writing about a place you consider a home? Was there a part of you that was trying to challenge any misconceptions?    

Having managed to live in Ibiza for 25 years without ever once actually going clubbing, I guess I was really excited by the idea of both capitalising on and subverting the tabloid preoccupation with Ibiza being a party island. We have a regenerative farm in the north of the island and we’re part of a beautiful regenerative farming movement there. The fascination with Ibiza and the sheer number of tourists passing through means this movement has an amazing opportunity to be a flagship movement for wider systems change. I love the idea of storytelling to help spread awareness.     

Credit: Medsea Studio

Q3: Lost in Ibiza is your third novel, but you are also a screenwriter and director. How much do you have to adapt your writing process between these different formats? As you are writing the book with a screen adaptation in mind, how did that impact the writing process?  

I’m currently writing an adaptation of Lost in Ibiza for the BFI. Having moved between novel writing, screen writing and directing, I guess all those mediums run concurrently in my head when I’m grappling with a story. But each one liberates a unique facet of the story while suppressing another. Writing a novel tends to be more internal and solitary. Writing a screenplay is more action- and dialogue-based. Directing is very team-based; you set a storytelling goal and help guide your heads of department to achieve it. They seem very natural bedfellows to me, but people often seem to find it unusual!

Q4: The process of book-to-screen adaptation is a fascinating one. To other novelists and storytellers who are interested, would you be able to shed some light on this? 

The process of book-to-screen is something I’m deeply pondering on as I go. For a screenplay, you ideally need scale. You need a three-act structure; put the cat up the tree, throw stones at it, bring it down again. You no longer have any internal access to someone’s thoughts. So how do they betray themselves through what they do or say? Or is it a close up that allows us to read behind the eyes? It’s all suddenly about visual storytelling and I find that rather thrilling because I am obsessed with visual impact.

Credit: Medsea Studio

Q5: When you hold a copy of Lost in Ibiza physically in your hands there is a real sense of beauty and quality to it. The cover is visually very striking and seems to capture the essence of the novel. Did you go into the design process with a strong vision? 

I had come across the work of the photographer Kate Bellm, who is based in Majorca, as I was finishing Lost in Ibiza, and thought she captured the almost psychedelic intensity of a Balearic summer day very poetically and vividly. So once I saw those images, it definitely lit a fire and gave me a direction to head in. As I have said, I am very, very ridiculously alive to visual impact. My husband would roll his eyes! I paint, I collect art, I love designing homes and gardens. Minna Salami summed it up perfectly: “Beauty is not frivolous. It’s a way of experiencing the depth of our aliveness.”

Q6: When looking back on the entire process, what was the most rewarding aspect of seeing Lost in Ibiza come to life and how has the experience compared to previous publications?

I absolutely loved having free rein to evolve the visual impact of the novel. Zero compromise. Heaven.

Q7: Finally, what advice would you offer to aspiring writers who are about to embark on publishing? Is there anything you discovered along the way that you wish you knew at the beginning? 

Expect to write, then rewrite, then rewrite some more. Find some good readers for when you have rewritten so much you’ve gone snow blind. Know that you will often feel an imposter and often wonder whether you are wasting your time. Embrace the despair with compassion – and just keep on going anyway! You just have to trust – without a wit of evidence – that each draft will be marginally less unspeakable than the last.