You see, depending on your point of view, English may be a Language first and foremost. People who speak it in other countries may very well associate the word with how they speak. You may hear people say, ‘I am English.’ When they actually mean they are an English peaking South African for example. Someone in the Congo may refer to themselves as being French.

Other people in different countries, may use the word in the sense of someone being from England. ‘The English.’ But for people living in England, being English has a far richer and deeper meeting. It is their essence. Their culture. Everything that makes them the nation that they are.

So, although with a weird accent, I consider myself as someone being able to speak the language. And I also live in England. But does that make me English? I don’t really think so. My kids are definitely, maybe English, but for me, my African roots run too deep.

Let’s then deal with the geography first: I was born in Johannesburg. Because of the historic ties with England, much of the richness of English culture is still rooted in South African culture. I grew up with that influence around me, but in the UK, there was always enough of a difference to be noticed, and definitely enough to take someone by surprise. So, having lived in England for fourteen years, I think I have given myself time to learn at least what some of the differences are. Figuring out why, well, that is another matter, you see. Most people do not know why things are the way they are – certain cultural characteristics are just there.

But this outside-in view, I believe, has helped me describe things better. Maybe I look at a street in London slightly differently, or I notice small behaviours and mannerisms that someone else might pass over. And in doing so, I hope I also describe things slightly differently in my book.

Then, on to the matter of language. People who are not multilingual often miss the point that people have a thinking language and a speaking language. For me, thoughts still arrive in my head in Afrikaans. That has never really left me. So, even when I speak English, I have to pay really close attention to the words and their order. You see, the same sentence in these two languages often has different word orders.

Is this, then, a disability when writing?

Definitely not. I just work very hard at every sentence. And in doing so, I think nothing escapes the words on the page.

See, I don’t have implicit language mistakes when I write. Someone in the UK may say something in a way that seems natural, but actually, it contains a small grammatical error, or they use the wrong word for something. But because they have spoken like that all their lives, they don’t really spot those nuances anymore. I think all writers have to work carefully on the way they construct it all. You can have a brilliant book, but if there is one sentence or paragraph that trips people over, they hardly ever get up again. They close the book and move on.

There are many dimensions that shape the actual language we use. The most commonly known is probably the geographic localisation of languages and dialects. Accents give us an identity. They allow us to be placed, sometimes before we wish to be placed. They put us into areas. Boxes if you will. But there is also a definite language divide across many different dimensions. Take level of education, for example. Or the industry people work in. Their level of self-confidence, I have learnt, is also a massive driver in how we speak.

This means one has to pay careful attention when developing characters. Two people in the same city may use slightly different word choices and say things differently because of many factors. And characters evolve over time. In Parallel Recollections, many of the characters grow older. They gain more experience in what they do. But they also start caring less about unimportant things.

Now, if used correctly, this is a very powerful writing tool. You can show the reader where someone is from and how well they are educated. You can let the reader decode how confident a character is – without telling them any of it. You just structure the language slightly differently.

So then, how did I do all of this? Two main things: I used the ‘Read Aloud’ function in Word. I close my eyes, so I do not see the words on the page, and I listen to my own story. It is a strange little test, but it works for me. As long as my mind can dwell in the emotions, or in a scene, I know things are mostly okay. But the minute I have to break out of my thoughts, and think about what I am hearing, I stop and fix it.

And I do this multiple times over. I also read the story out loud. Small errors on paper become much larger in the air.

So yes, I think fourteen years gave me enough time to observe, but I still retain a different worldview, and that gives me a different perspective. And as for language – that is probably why I can only do shorter novels for now. Otherwise, knowing me, the first part of a book may very well be out of fashion by the time I finish it.