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Christine Johnston

writer, profile published in BRAT, Winter 2001

I've written novels for adults and teenagers, lots of short stories, a couple of plays and the libretto for an opera. Everything I write seems to have a different evolution. Sometimes the story or the situation is the strongest element. Sometimes it's a character, a persistent voice (an enthusiastic teenager, a grumpy old woman) that sets things in motion. I say 'what if...' and off I go. But is can be something even vaguer; a phrase I've overheard, or just the beginning of an idea, a tiny spark that I hope will catch fire if I believe and work on it.

Recently I was walking under pine trees. I like the scent of pine needles and I've always had happy associations with pines, but that day the pine forest seemed very sinister. It was dark and the tall trees showed very little foliage, just the columns of their trunks. The needles were spread thickly, poisoning the ground for any undergrowth. Even the cones I picked up were prickly. I remembered that in fairy tales bad things happen in the woods. I began to think about people who have been marched into the forest to be shot. I'm still thinking about this idea; it needs time to ferment, but I'm sure there's a story in it.