I was launched into the literary world by a garage bill. I was working on the Evening News and needed £200 to fix my old Vauxhall Ventura, which I couldn’t afford. Another reporter had written a thriller and said the publisher paid him £200. That little coincidence made me think I could try it, too.
I wasn’t allowed to watch TV or films by my Plymouth Brethren parents. I don’t think it did me any harm, but at the time I was furious about being denied. All my friends went to Saturday morning pictures and were talking about these superheroes and cowboys they’d seen. Whereas I read so much, I was considered a bit odd. More than once, I was asked in a worried tone, “You do go out to play sometimes, don’t you?”
My mind boggles at the fact that I’ve sold 188m books. I’ve written 36 novels. At my house in Stevenage, I have a bookcase with one copy of every edition or translation. I look at it and think: “That’s how I’ve spent my life.”
Public libraries blew my mind. I could borrow two Enid Blyton books for free. It was like Christmas every week. When I was 12, they let me into the adult section and I read a James Bond novel, which changed everything. I wanted to be Bond, but soon realised that I was never going to be 6ft 2in with ice blue eyes and a cruel mouth. But maybe I could be Ian Fleming instead. I can’t write as well as Fleming, but he set the bar.
Don’t make enemies. That’s what my mother told me. David Frost once caught me on the back foot on TV by asking me about the contest for the Labour deputy leadership. I said: “John Prescott’s just a fat man in a suit.” Which wasn’t a terribly intelligent contribution to the debate. My mum told me off afterwards.
I don’t mind being called a champagne socialist. John Mortimer used to call himself a Bollinger Bolshevik. You don’t have to wear a hairshirt to belong to the Labour party. It’s always been a principle of mine that if you want people to spend time volunteering, you’ve got to make it fun – canvassing is better if you go to the pub afterwards.
I asked Tom Hardy what he did for a living and my children were mortified. Waiting in a queue to get my CBE five years ago, I turned to the chap behind me and said in a friendly way, “What did you do to get one of these?” He said, “I’m an actor.” He was charming.
I get my strength from love. I don’t believe in God but if people love you, you feel centred and part of something.
Wine is my only vice. I drink way more than the medical advice. I don’t get hangovers, which doesn’t help.
Paul McCartney is the greatest bassist of all time. I play bass myself and nobody plays like him. Melody is just in his soul.
My most embarrassing moment came live on American TV. George Bush Sr liked my novel The Pillars of the Earth, which led to a discussion of presidents’ reading habits. I said about Tom Clancy: “Being Ronald Reagan’s favourite author is a bit like being Stevie Wonder’s favourite painter.” I’d pay good money to go back and say something else.
Give it to me straight. I don’t want an editor to say, “Ken, the book is wonderful and you’re a genius.” I want them to say things like, “The first 10 chapters are terrific, but then it sags a bit.” Then I can look at chapter 11 and fix it.
No man is a hero to his valet. That’s how the proverb goes. You’re not a hero to your wife and children either.
I’m not a bad bass player but I know my place. Bill Wyman had his 70th birthday party at Ronnie Scott’s. His band played, then he put the bass down and said, “Somebody else play.” Jack Bruce [from Cream] got up for a while, When he stopped, Duck Dunn [from Booker T & The MGs] took a turn. Bill’s wife Suzanne, bless her heart, came over and said, “Would you like to play, Ken?” I said, “That’s so kind of you, Suzanne, but I’m not stupid.”
The worst thing about ageing is knowing there’s not much time left. I’m having a good time and don’t want to stop.
Ken Follett’s BBC Maestro course on Writing Bestselling Fiction is available now. The Armour of Light (Macmillan, £25) is out now
