Wizard with the Midas touch has lots more tricks in his repertoire
When his second book in the Artemis Fowl series was released there was something manic about Eoin Colfer. He’d recently given up teaching, had embraced worldwide travel, and was clearly unable to believe his luck.
Ten years on, meeting in Enniscorthy to discuss the last book in the series, Eoin is calmer, greyer, and altogether more grounded. Not that life has calmed down. He’d just returned from Australia and New Zealand, and before that had been in Hong-Kong.
“At the beginning I was worried how I would be perceived. I didn’t want it to seem that success had gone to my head, so I’d do anything I was asked to do. Now I ask why I’m on a 5am flight. I ask, why not 9am? And publicists are usually happy to engage,” he says.
Six books on, Colfer hasn’t lost his magic touch. The Last Guardian is a fabulous read. The swear toads, farting dwarves and diva fairies still feature, along with the most imaginative technology; but there’s a great deal more substance, and food for thought as Artemis faces his biggest challenge yet.
Eoin based Artemis’s young twin brothers on his two sons. But now, he thinks of Finn (14) when he’s writing the hero’s scenes too.
“Artemis was based on my brother Donal, but it’s kind of shifted over now. Most of my characters are based on my family and friends,” he says.
“I’ll use them again and again in different situations. They have to be, because otherwise they all turn into versions of me,” he says.
The success of Artemis Fowl is legendary. All the books have been New York Times bestsellers, and have made Colfer an author to reckon with. Before Artemis, the former teacher from Co Wexford had already written children’s books for O’Brien Press. He was amazed when the new series took off.
“I wrote Artemis Fowl for the kid I was at 12. I wasn’t good at sport, and I loved Captain Hook and Huckleberry Finn. I preferred morally ambiguous characters who were seduced by darkness. That felt interesting to me, and I presumed I’d sell a few thousand copies, and have enough money for a holiday.
“I liked Artemis. I thought he was funny. But he was a young boy who drinks champagne, drugs his friends, poisons a fairy and pilots a plane without a licence. He’s a terrible example, and some critics didn’t get him.
“I was lucky that there were enough people with a quirky sense of humour. Publishers were looking for the next Harry Potter, and Artemis Fowl got the tag, anti Harry Potter. If I ever meet JK Rowling, I definitely owe her a beer!”
His success is down to hard work, an innovative mind, and sheer enthusiasm. “I really enjoy the process of writing,” he says.
“I love being in my office with my 80s music on. And I’m interested in the character who is a super nerd with compulsive tics and psychological hiccups. All the books have a trail of psychiatrists through them.
“I’m interested in the mind. Into where it can go, how it can fracture. I’m interested in child genius syndrome. It’s hard for a child genius to grow up; his intelligence is more acceptable at seven. That, alone, fascinated me,” he says.
Ecology features too.
“Though not in a preachy way. The last book dealt with species extinction, and in this one there’s a major electronic overload. It’s amazing what could happen if there was an earthquake on the San Andreas fault, and Vesuvius and Iceland went at the same time. We could be straight back to the Stone Age,” he says.
Will he be sad to leave the series behind?
“I met Anthony Horowitz recently, when he’d signed off on Alex Ryder. He said he felt immense relief, but was convinced he was mad to turn away from the golden goose. That’s how I feel. But you can’t be motivated by money, or there will be an inferior book,” he says.
There have, of course, been other projects; there was a book called Airman, set in Victorian times. There was a thriller, called Plugged, and, more notably, the sequel to the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. But that one, almost didn’t happen.
“When I was approached, I said, ‘forget that idea. Nobody can do that.’ My agent said, ‘think about it,’ and after a week I asked why they wanted it done. And Douglas Adams’s widow said he’d always wanted to finish the series and would I do it for the 30th anniversary.
“That made it difficult to turn down, so I agreed, but immediately, cold terror set in. I considered backing out, but it had already been announced. I knew the knives would be out. And it was terrible. People on the internet were being horrible, and I felt frozen and couldn’t do it.
“Then I joined a society on Facebook ‘to stop Eoin Colfer writing the Hitchhiker’s Guide’, to see what it was like. At first I defended myself, then I started to insult myself, and said, ‘you’re right. He can’t write.’ And that seemed to swing opinion.
“I was still nervous. Jacky asked me what was wrong. I said, ‘I’m thinking of removing a head from a two-headed character, and I’m worried the fan boys will be upset.’ She just said, ‘I have to pick up the children.’ I knew she meant, ‘get a grip.’ I was fine after that.”
A new series for children called W.A.R.P. is due next year. And he hopes to intersperse each children’s book with a crime book for adults.
“There are lots of books I’d love to write,” he says. “I’d adore to write straight literature. If I’d written Peter Carey’s True History of the Kelly Gang I’d have stopped writing straight afterwards. But you can’t write literature for the sake of it.” What’s the best comment he gets from readers?
“I love it when people tell me their kid never read before Artemis Fowl, and they’re now a reader. That’s the ultimate for me.
“As a dad, I know how that feels. My elder son, Finn, wasn’t a reader until he started on Ross O’Carroll Kelly. Paul Howard got my son to read. I’ve never met him, though we share a publisher. But if I do, I owe him abeer too.”
