A Novel Idea

Published: March 9th, 2026

As many of you are aware, my fictional trilogy, ‘Legacy of Deceit’, (third book progressing), takes my characters through the time when cotton mills were a distinct feature of many northern towns. Manchester was even nicknamed, ‘Cottonopolis’ because of its many mills. The lives of people existing amongst these dark, urban landscapes have been captured and recreated by the artist, Lowry. My painting ‘Coming From The Mill’ is an interpretation of this artist’s (1930) depiction of mill workers. Having missed his train, Lowry watched the stream of workers exiting Acme Mill in Pendlebury, Salford – and painted what he saw.

My third novel explores the eventual demise of these mills as world-wide producers of British cotton: mainly due to the rise of Japan and India as major cotton producers, resulting in the economic Depression of the late 1920’s. 

Imagine working in those mills! Standing for up to twelve hours daily, in noisy, over-heated conditions. Not to mention the frequent accidents, as workers, some only children, had their limbs trapped in those monstrous machines. Many could never work again.

Years later, 1973, in Darwen, I worked in what had been one of those dreadful cotton mills – it having been converted into a factory that produced handbags. And what an experience it was for me, during that six months, prior to starting my Teacher Training.

I still recall those distant days. Clocking in at 8.00am (I think). Standing at my work bench trying to keep up with those handbags moving along the conveyor belt. My job was to attach a handle to each. There could be no slacking. That conveyor belt did not stop. And, yes, it was back-breaking work. It was also what was then called ‘piece work’ – meaning that we were paid for the number of ‘pieces’ per day. So the quicker I attached those handles, the more money I received. 

At 10.00, a bell would ring – at which point, we all traipsed upstairs in a procession for our morning break. I recall quickly downing my tea and biscuits – before the bell rang again for us to return to our benches. 

Two things stood out from that period of my life. I remember beginning to feel like one of those machines, as my hands worked in tandem, becoming automated to the movement of belt and bags. No thinking! Nothing to keep my brain active. This was manual labour.

The second thing that stood out for me were the workers. All women – at least in my area of the factory. As I studied the ages and demographic of my fellow workers, I observed something else that was interesting. Generational habit: as young women had simply followed their mothers and grandmothers into that place. Why, and how, I often asked myself – had working in that mill over the years become a ‘family’ way of life: in which that factory took centre stage. 

So it was that, many years later, when I came to write my first novel, ‘A Lie Never Dies’, I imagined that mill as the earlier setting for my characters. I thought about how they must have felt as they went about their daily, mainly miserable, lives. As they spoke to me and gave me the words to write – my first novel was born! 

 

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