Behind the scenes of my research ft. Emylia Hall

Delve into the research behind Emylia Hall’s latest novel The Thousand Lights Hotel in this gorgeous piece…

Or, ‘An Island Love Story’, for to talk about research for The Thousand Lights Hotel is to talk about love. The vital elements of my novel – its setting, its feel, its heart – were firmly set in place before I determined the plot, or went anywhere near Google. So here’s the story of what made a story…

In Elizabeth von Arnim’s The Enchanted April, Mrs. Arbuthnot and Mrs. Wilkins find themselves instantly beguiled by a brief newspaper advertisement for an Italian castle, drawn by the words ‘To Those who Appreciate Wistaria and Sunshine’. Sometimes all it takes is a line or two to capture our imagination. Back in 2003 I was planning a holiday to Tuscany, and came across an entry for a hotel in the Budget Gems section of a guidebook. ‘Everything an island retreat should be,’ it read. ‘Enjoy expansive views over the owner’s vines and olives to the wooded headland of Sant’Andrea.’ Just like von Arnim’s women, I was immediately enchanted, and knowing nothing more about the island, our holiday was settled; it would be Elba.

What a radiant week that was. Elba, lying six miles off the Tuscan coast, stole my heart. It was lusher than the Tuscany I knew, the vibrancy of its vegetation, the turquoise of its waters, gave it an almost tropical vibe. We stayed in tiny Sant’Andrea, dubbed ‘the island within an island’. A steep path led to a sheltered bay. There were children swan diving from on high, and watermelon vendors clambering over the rocks, calling out their wares. The scarcity of British tourists made it feel like our own discovery: a hidden island paradise.

My next trip to Elba was in 2012, the year my debut, The Book of Summers, was published. I’d just turned in the first draft of my second novel, A Heart Bent Out of Shape. Where better to celebrate? We stayed again in Sant’Andrea. Our hotel was set on the hillside. It had a palm-fringed pool, and gardens running down to the sea, the fruits – and vegetables – of which we tasted at breakfast and dinner. I have a distinct memory of standing on the terrace, looking at the land falling away from me, the water beyond, and feeling so gloriously remote. If people know anything of Elba, it tends to be the Napoleon link – the French emperor was exiled to the island in 1814. I became interested in the idea of self-exile. What would possess someone to hide away on the island of Elba? Who might come here, and build a new life? It would be another three years before I’d return to these questions, but the seed for the novel was planted.

My last trip to Elba was two summers ago, when I was setting out to write The Thousand Lights Hotel. My son was nearly one and a half, but I’d never left him for a night before, let alone five of them. For all I cried as I said goodbye, it was glorious to be entirely in my own company, immersed in the landscape of my book. This time I stayed on my own in Marciana Marina, a little town lying at the foot of the mountains, with a sweep of golden bay. Fully enlivened, I revelled in all that Elba had to give me. Each day I settled in with my notebook at a seafront cafe and, surrounded by cigar smoke and chatter in a language I largely couldn’t understand, the words flowed. It was another teary goodbye as I took the island bus back to Portoferraio; this time the recipient was only a view, but somehow its response didn’t feel impassive. All holidays should be restorative, all research trips should be inspiring, but this time Elba had felt even more of an oasis. While the intricacies of my novel’s story were still taking shape – and would, in fact, change along the way – I knew its spirit: it would be about people escaping, of finding themselves, and one another. It would be for ‘those who appreciate wistaria and sunshine’. And it would be written out of love.

Escape to the beautiful island of Elba, and take along a copy of The Thousand Lights Hotel – buy it here

Photo by Brian Sugden on Unsplash