This is probably because his first book was to have been the one, or because he never expected it to be published at all. The writing of my first novel, A Prayer for the Ship, was a gentle and leisurely task. I had no previous experience, other than short stories, and had nobody to point out the pitfalls or to explain the mysteries of construction and plot. This was probably an advantage. I wrote it without notes or research, building the story around events and characters I had known during the war. It was something I felt I had to do, if only for my own satisfaction. Eventually, I sent the manuscript to a publisher, the choice of whom was made by the simple method of studying his previous book-lists. My work was done, or so I thought. The first excitement at being told that my story had been accepted soon gave way to something like panic when my publisher asked me what new work I had to show him. A second book? It had never crossed my mind. And so I wrote High Water, basing it on the times and environment of the late fifties.
