De wolvenlus|Nicholas Evans 9022524086

||boek: De wolvenlus|vertaling: Inge de Heer,Johannes Jonkers|De Boekerij

||door: Nicholas Evans

||taal: nl
||jaar: 1999
||druk: 12e druk
||pag.: 420p
||opm.: paperback|zo goed als nieuw|mét flap

||isbn: 90-225-2408-6
||code: 1:000055

--- Over het boek (foto 1): De wolvenlus ---

Een baby ligt buiten in zijn wiegje te kraaien. Langzaam sluipt de wolf dichterbij... Een troep wolven waart weer in de bosrijke omgeving van het slaperige dorpje Hope in de Amerikaanse staat Montana, dezelfde streek waar ze een kleine eeuw geleden tot op het laatste exemplaar werden afgeslacht. Nu worden de wolven beschermd door de wet en door de negentwintigjarige biologe Helen Ross, die naar het gebied wordt gestuurd om deze prachtige wilde dieren te observeren. Ook moet ze zien te voorkomen dat de wolven opnieuw worden uitgeroeid. Dat laatste leidt tot groot ongenoegen van de lokale schapenfokkers die hun kuddes bedreigd zien. De emoties in het dorp lopen langzamerhand hoog op en leiden uiteindelijk tot een gruwelijke confrontatie. Toch heeft deze confrontatie ook een positieve kracht: de hoofdpersonen worden gedwongen keuzes te maken, waardoor zij weliswaar gehavend, maar vooral gelouterd uit de strijd komen. Voor geen van hen zal het leven ooit nog hetzelfde zijn.

[bron: https--www.boekbeschrijvingen.nl]

--- Over (foto 2): Nicholas Evans ---

Nicholas Benbow Evans (26 July 1950 - 9 August 2022) was a British journalist, screenwriter, television and film producer and novelist.

Nicholas Benbow Evans was born in Bromsgrove, Worcestershire, son of Anthony Evans, director of a motor engineering company, and Eileen, née Whitehouse. He was educated at Bromsgrove School, where he was head boy. He served as a teacher in Senegal with the charity Voluntary Service Overseas for a year, after which he earned a first in law at St. Edmund Hall, Oxford. Following graduation he worked as a reporter for the Newcastle-upon-Tyne Evening Chronicle before moving to London Weekend Television where he worked on Weekend World and The London Programme and was executive producer of The South Bank Show from 1982 to 1984. During this time he also wrote and adapted screenplays for television broadcast.

He tried to enter into film producing in the early 1990s, but his efforts did not come to fruition, and The New York Times described him as "broke and adrift" at that stage in his life; he had also been diagnosed with melanoma, though he would recover. But during this time, he heard from a friend a "story that made me shiver": a "horse whisperer" in southwest England who could heal and soothe horses. £60,000 in debt, he decided to write the story as a novel as opposed to a screenplay, having felt burned by his previous attempts to mount his own film. In the course of research, he travelled to the U.S. states of Montana, New Mexico, and California. The rights for his novel were sold by his agent and friend Caradoc King for US$3 million at the 1994 Frankfurt Book Fair.

His debut novel The Horse Whisperer was No. 10 on the list of bestselling novels in the United States for 1995 as determined by The New York Times. With 15 million copies sold, it is on the list of the best-selling books of all time. In the UK, The Horse Whisperer was listed at 195 on the BBC's Big Read, a 2003 survey with the goal of finding the "nation's best-loved book". It was made into a film in 1998; Robert Redford directed, and he starred opposite Kristin Scott Thomas, along with Scarlett Johansson and Sam Neill.

Evans revealed on his personal website that he agreed to an option to make a film of his third novel, The Smoke Jumper.

Evans married Oxford classmate Jenny Lyon in 1973; they had two children and divorced in the 1990s. He then married singer-songwriter Charlotte Gordon Cumming. They had one child, and he also had a child from a relationship with television producer Jane Hewland.

Evans, Cumming and several of their relatives were poisoned in September 2008 after mistakenly consuming deadly webcap mushrooms that they gathered on holiday in Morayshire. They all had to undergo kidney dialysis, and Evans underwent a transplant in 2011 using a kidney donated by his daughter.

Evans died from a heart attack at his home on 9 August 2022, aged 72. Media sources differed on whether he died in London or in Totnes, Devon.

Bibliography

• The Horse Whisperer (1995)
• The Loop (1998)
• The Smoke Jumper (2001)
• The Divide (2005)
• The Brave (2010)

[source: wikipedia]

Schrijver van "De paardenfluisteraar" Nicholas Evans (72) is overleden [2022-08-15]

De Britse auteur Nicholas Evans is overleden. Hij werd 72 jaar oud. Zijn bekendste boek is ongetwijfeld "The horse whisperer", bij ons vertaald als "De paardenfluisteraar". Zijn management laat weten dat hij gestorven is aan een hartaanval. Hij overleed al op 9 augustus.

"The horse whisperer" was de eerste roman van Nicholas Evans. Hij kwam uit in 1995, toen de auteur 45 jaar oud was. Het boek over een moeder die de hulp inroept van een paardenfluisteraar, nadat haar dochter samen met haar paard zwaargewond geraakte bij een verkeersongeval, was een schot in de roos. Er werden 15 miljoen exemplaren van verkocht en het werd vertaald in 40 talen.

In 1998 kwam ook een Hollywoodfilm uit gebaseerd op het boek. Robert Redford nam zowel de regie als de hoofdrol voor zijn rekening. De jonge Scarlett Johansson speelde Grace, het getraumatiseerde meisje. Het was haar doorbraakrol.

Bekijk hier de trailer van de film "The horse whisperer":

Na "The horse whisperer" schreef Evans nog andere romans, zoals "The brave", "The loop", "The divide" en "The smoke jumper". "Hij was een meesterlijke verteller en een van de meest succesvolle en meest geliefde auteurs van zijn generatie", zegt zijn uitgeverij Little, Brown Book Group. Hij zal enorm gemist worden, maar zijn woorden zullen de komende jaren blijven voortleven."

Evans begon zijn carrière in de jaren 70 als journalist, eerst voor de geschreven pers en later voor televisie. Hij specialiseerde zich in Amerikaanse politiek en het Midden-Oosten. In de jaren 80 maakte hij ook kunstdocumentaires, waarmee hij verschillende prijzen won.

Terwijl hij aan "The horse whisperer" werkte, kreeg hij een behandeling tegen huidkanker. "De dag na de operatie ging ik onderhandelen met verschillende uitgeverijen en ik probeerde er vlot en normaal uit te zien, maar ik had zoveel pijn", vertelde hij de Britse krant The Guardian in 2011. "Maar ik dacht, als ik het iemand vertel, gaan ze denken dat ik ga sterven."

In 2008 werd hij heel ziek, toen hij zelfgeplukte giftige paddenstoelen at. Hij kreeg toen een nieuwe nier. Evans laat een vrouw en vier kinderen achter.

Judit Verstraete [bron: https--www.vrt.be/vrtnws/nl/2022/08/15/schrijver-van-de-paardenfluisteraar-nicholas-evans-72-is-ove]

Nicholas Evans was born and grew up in Worcestershire, England. He studied law at Oxford University, graduating with first class honors, then worked as a journalist for three years on the Evening Chronicle in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. He then moved into television, producing films about US politics and the Middle-East for a weekly current affairs programme called Weekend World. It was during this time that he traveled a lot and got to know the United States.

In 1982 he started to produce arts documentaries - about famous writers, painters and film-makers, several of which won international awards (films about David Hockney, Francis Bacon, Patricia Highsmith). In 1983 he made a film about the great British director David Lean (Lawrence of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago, etc). Lean became a friend and mentor and encouraged Evans to switch from fact to fiction.

For the next ten years, Evans wrote and produced a number of films for television and the cinema. In 1993 he met a blacksmith in the far South-West of England who told him about horse whisperers - people who have the gift of healing traumatized horses. Evans started work on what was to be his first novel.

Published in the fall of 1995, The Horse Whisperer has now sold about fifteen million copies across the world. It has been the number one bestseller in about 20 countries and has been translated into 36 languages. It was also made into a movie, starring, produced and directed by Robert Redford.

Since then Evans has written four more novels: The Loop, The Smoke Jumper, The Divide and, his latest, The Brave. He lives in the south-west of England, in a 14th century house on the banks of the River Dart in Devon.

[source: https--www.nicholasevans.com/about-nicholas-evans/biography]

The Horse Whisperer (25th Anniversary Edition) [2020-11-00]

Behind the Book
THE HORSE WHISPERER - 25 YEARS ON

You could hear the horse half a mile away, even before the pickup and trailer turned off the highway. She was screaming and crashing her hooves against the metal walls. And when the rear door was lowered, she exploded into the arena, bucking and swerving and filling the sunlit air with dust. Her owner had driven hundreds of miles to bring her here. He was at his wits' end, sighing as he leaned on the rail beside me to watch. "If Tom can't straighten her out, nobody can."

It was April 1994 and I was in Merced, California at the home of Tom Dorrance. He was standing in the middle of the arena, a short figure in a large white cowboy hat, squinting through the dust while the mare galloped in demented laps around him.

Two hours later, she was like butter, calm and sloppy. And for the first time her owner was able to stand beside her and stroke and nuzzle her. She didn't even seem to notice when he saddled and cinched her and climbed aboard. He could hardly believe the transformation.

For Tom this was just another day's work. He was then in his mid-eighties. His pale blue eyes seemed to see right into you. You knew you were in the presence of someone special.

He hadn't tried to catch the horse. Chasing her would have been pointless. He simply stood there watching while she raced around him, bucking and snorting and showing the whites of her eyes. Eventually she grew tired and stopped. Lathered with sweat, she stood scuffing the ground and staring at him. She seemed to be wondering who this little guy was and what the hell he might want. For a long time they didn't take their eyes off each other. Then Tom slowly turned his back and walked away. And the horse followed him.

Something similar was happening in my life back then. For the previous ten years I had been working as a screenwriter and producer of films. I'd had some success in TV but I wanted to make movies. I'd made one that wasn't a success and decided that the next screenplay I wrote, I would direct myself. I found an agent in LA and over the next two years tried to get the movie going. But it kept falling through. I was chasing the Hollywood horse but the damn thing kept running away. Meanwhile I was sinking my family ever deeper into debt. So, I turned my back on making films and walked away.

I was 43 and feeling lost and something of a failure. I had a stack of unfilmed screenplays so there was no point in adding to it. I'd never been short of story ideas, so I decided to write the next one as a novel. On reflection, a pretty stupid idea. Why would a debut novel from an unknown author have any more chance of getting off the ground than a movie? Nevertheless, that was why in April '94, I was leaning on that arena rail in California watching an old man calm a crazy horse.

TV in the 1950s was wall-to-wall Westerns. Cheyenne, The Range Rider, Wagon Train, Maverick, Rawhide - I loved them all. I could still sing you the theme tunes. All I ever did, in our little back garden, was play Cowboys and Indians. My sister Sue, three years older, got roped in - literally. I would shoot guns and arrows at her and ambush her from the garage roof with my rubber tomahawk. Surprisingly, she still talks to me.

As a screenwriter, I'd thought that one day I might try to have a go at a Western, a love story maybe, but set in the present day. It was no more than a vague intention. I had no particular story or characters in mind. That is, until the evening I met a farrier called Robbie Richardson.

At a friend's dinner table in Devon, where I now live, Robbie told me about a horse whisperer he had once met. I'd ridden when I was a boy and though we weren't wealthy enough to own horses, I had always loved being around them. And yet I had never heard of horse whisperers.

I started doing some research. It turned out to be an ancient term. For centuries there had been people who had the gift of calming troubled horses. They were often said to have magical powers, even to be witches. I came across accounts of such men (it seems they were always male) being burnt at the stake, the cruel logic being that if you could persuade the devil to leave some wretched, demented creature, you must somehow be in cahoots with him.

I read about a man called John Solomon Rarey from Groveport, Ohio who in 1858 was summoned by Queen Victoria to Windsor Castle to tame a horse nobody dared approach. Her Majesty apparently watched spellbound as he put his hands on the animal and laid it down, then lay beside it with his head on its hooves.

I became obsessed and slowly a story began to come together in my head. I knew from the start that I wanted to set it in America. In England horses and horse ownership carry too much class baggage. I wanted my protagonists, these two people who fall in love, to come from different cultures but for neither to feel socially superior. And just as important, I wanted the story to have scale. Imagine if Annie lived in London, maybe with a second home in the Cotswolds. To take her daughter's damaged horse to the whisperer in Devon, she could leave after breakfast and be there by lunch. She wouldn't even have to refuel. But New York to Montana? Two thousand miles across a whole continent. That was more like it.

After many costly transatlantic phone calls from my home in south London, I got lucky. A friend of a friend knew someone in Montana who had met Tom Dorrance. Tom had taught another extraordinary horseman called Ray Hunt who in turn had taught a young man called Buck Brannaman (who was later to do the horse work and double for Robert Redford in the movie). I flew to the States and spent many weeks driving around the West, from New Mexico, through Colorado, California and, at last to Montana, soaking up the vast western landscape and watching these amazing horsemen at work.

Tom Dorrance, the youngest of four brothers, grew up on a cattle ranch in Wallowa County, Oregon. All the boys were good with horses but Tom had something special about him. There was a long tradition of cowboys being tough with their horses, using violence to "break" them. But even as a child Tom knew it needed to be a partnership of equals: horse and rider had to understand and trust each other.

After watching Tom lay down the troubled mare that morning twenty-six years ago, I was a little shocked. It had seemed a kind of ruthless domination, a humiliating forced surrender. I told him so. We were sitting in the shade of his porch. He took a sip of water and shook his head.

"Then you haven't understood," he said. "I was just showing her that even if her worst imaginable fear came to pass - to be laid down, utterly helpless, she would still be okay. Nobody was going to kill her or hurt her."

I asked how he could tell what was going on in a horse's mind and know what needed to be done and he said it was about the difference between looking and seeing. "A lot of folk look, but they don't see."

He pulled a little length of grey cord from the pocket of his jeans and told me to hold up my index finger. He looped the cord around my finger, twisted it and rolled his hand, then put the tip of his finger on mine so that the cord seemed trapped. "No way that's coming free, huh?" he said. I nodded. Then he gave a little tug and, with our fingers still touching, the cord came clean away. I asked him to do it again a couple of times but even then it still seemed like magic.

"That's because you're looking but you're not seeing. It's like that with a horse. After a while you can see what's happening. The way he moves, the way he holds his head. There's a whole history there."

Tom gave me the cord and that night, in my room at the Merced Holiday Inn, I spent a long time twisting it around the door handle, trying to figure out what Tom had done. Eventually I got it. I have that piece of cord to this day. It's one of my most treasured possessions.

Anyway, I came back home in the late spring of 1994 and started writing. I wrote some 250 pages and showed them to my friend, Caradoc King, a literary agent (though not yet mine). He sent this half-manuscript out to the main UK publishers on the eve of the annual Frankfurt book fair. One of them, a talented editor at Transworld called Ursula Mackenzie, wanted to buy the novel and soon word spread like wildfire. By the end of the week publishers from all over the world and three major Hollywood studios were bidding for it too. Like Tom, I had walked away and the horse had followed me.

Wasn't that wonderful? Well, yes, of course. Except... it was still only half finished. And, on the very day that The Times ran a piece calling me Britain's luckiest first-time novelist, I was sitting in a grim hospital corridor in London, having just been diagnosed with a killer skin cancer, a malignant melanoma. The prognosis wasn't great. In those days if a melanoma got through your skin and into your lymph system, you were good as dead. In fact, the same thing was to kill my mother ten years later. My biopsy was uncertain: the melanoma might have penetrated or might not. If it had, I had at most about six months to live. I needed to get a move on.

Caradoc, now (of course, my agent, put my half-book up for auction. And the day after I'd had a chunk cut out of my abdomen, I had to accompany him to meet the three highest bidding UK publishers. Nobody knew about the cancer except my wife Jenny. Not even Caradoc. Why would they want to buy a book from someone about to die? I had twenty stitches in my stomach and a couple of times nearly passed out with the pain. I tried to be charming but they must have wondered why I kept sweating and looked pale as death.

Finishing the book was a time of heightened emotions. Life seemed vivid and precious. I imagined my children growing up and telling people their dad had once half-written something that would have made them rich. Jenny and I had a plan that if I died, she wouldn't tell anyone; she would put me in the freezer and get a friend to finish the book. Hollywood Pictures had won the auction for the movie rights and wanted me to have a medical before they would sign the contract. It was usual practice apparently. But I refused. How would I explain the big pink scar on my belly?

Well, obviously, I survived. The book was published in the autumn of 1995. Translated into thirty-six languages, it was the number one bestseller in sixteen countries. To date it has sold around twenty million copies worldwide and spawned countless variations. Dogs, elephants, babies, plants, even ghosts, all now have their own particular whisperers.

They started shooting the movie in Big Timber, Montana in May 1997, with Robert Redford as director, producer and star. The wonderful Kristin Scott Thomas, who had just won the Best Actress Oscar for The English Patient, was playing Annie and, in one of her earliest screen roles, Scarlett Johansson was Annie's daughter Grace. Perfect. Except, it was one of the wettest summers on record. The set flooded, the crew was wading around in rubber boots and there was a plague of the biggest mosquitoes they'd ever seen. And, already delayed, they'd had to start shooting before the script was finalized.

My wife Jenny and I and our teenage kids, Max and Lauren, were holidaying at a beautiful guest ranch in Paradise Valley, just north of Yellowstone Park. At Robert Redford's invitation, we drove over to Big Timber to watch the filming and meet the cast. Ever since he played the Sundance Kid, Redford had always made Jenny go a little weak at the knees and, to be honest, Kristin had always had a similar effect on me. Despite the fact that it was clearly a very tough shoot for all concerned, both she and Redford were kind and charming. He gave us lunch and showed us around, introducing us to all the key people.

Buck Brannaman, doubling for Redford in the horse scenes and dressed identically, greeted me like an old friend. He would later write generously about the novel and the movie in his book The Faraway Horses:

"I like to think that the work Nick Evans and Robert Redford produced helped a lot of horses and a lot of people, and I'd be proud to ride with them again, anytime."

When I first saw the movie at a private screening in Los Angeles, I wasn't bowled over. I loved the first half of it but not so much the second. I had tried to persuade Redford not to change the ending of the novel but he'd stuck to his guns and there it was up on the screen. I still think it was the wrong decision but I also know that writers never like having their "babies killed." A lot of people loved the movie. And over the years, watching it a few more times, on reflection, I think he did a fine job.

I have long wondered what it was about this story that connected with so many people. If I knew, I'd bottle it. Usually, writing a novel is like climbing a mountain. It's slow and arduous and you can easily get lost. But with The Horse Whisperer I could see the story laid out before me, like stepping stones across a river. All I had to do was put one foot in front of the other. This is the only time this has ever happened to me.

I became aware that I was telling an ancient kind of tale - the kind that human beings have told each other for thousands of years. It is about good people being plunged into a dark vortex of pain. In the end a hand of love reaches in to rescue and uncloud them. In other versions of this age-old tale, the hand belongs to an angel or a wizard or a stranger in a white hat. Think of Gandalf, think of Shane. Think of the angel saving Daniel in the lions' den.

For the sake of those who have yet to read the book, I won't say much more. All I would add is that it isn't a book about horses. It's about us and how easy it is for all of us to get lost and clouded and separated from the things in life that really matter. And how, if we get lucky, a pure and selfless love can save us.

Nicholas Evans [source: https--www.nicholasevans.com/books/the-horse-whisperer-25th-anniversary-edition/behind-the-book]

Nicholas Evans obituary - Author of The Horse Whisperer, the 1995 book that was turned into a popular film, starring and directed by Robert Redford [2022-08-16/2022-08-22]

Nicholas Evans, who has died aged 72 after a heart attack, was the unlikely author of the bestselling novel The Horse Whisperer (1995), which became a Robert Redford film. Unlikely because the book, set in Montana, was a first novel by a British television producer, and landmark because the book sold for a record price at auction, and justified its sale price.

Evans had previously left a successful position as number two to Melvyn Bragg on the South Bank Show, where he produced many of the flagship programmes of the television arts series, including profiles of Patricia Highsmith, John Le Carré, Laurence Olivier, Francis Bacon and, most crucially, the film director David Lean, who became a friend and wondered why Evans was making a film about him, and not something he wanted to do for himself.

Evans then co-produced and wrote a TV film, Murder By the Book (1987), about Agatha Christie and her character Hercule Poirot, played by Peggy Ashcroft and Ian Holm. He wrote three screenplay adaptations, but by 1993 a film project had fallen through and he found himself £65,000 in debt and diagnosed with a stomach melanoma.

Evans had begun writing a novel based on a story that he had been told by a Devon blacksmith, who used the term "horse whisperer" to describe someone with a gift for communicating with horses. Evans had gone to the US, to meet men who did this, thinking the story needed a western setting. "If you set a book in postwar or contemporary Britain, something shrinks," he said. "It becomes parochial."

He gave the manuscript of the book, half-finished with an outline of the remainder, to his friend the agent Caradoc King, who took it to the 1994 Frankfurt book fair, where it instigated a bidding war.

Dell bought the US rights for $3.15m, Bantam got UK rights for $537,000 and translation deals in Germany and Italy netted another million dollars. The film rights went to Robert Redford for another $3m because Evans saw Redford in the role of his hero, Tom Booker.

While this was happening, his melanoma was removed by surgery and his local bank manager, who had been demanding repayment of his overdraft, called and invited him to lunch.

The novel got mixed reviews, especially in the US. Virtually no critic could resist mentioning Evans' advances; many also drew comparison with Robert James Waller's The Bridges of Madison County. Evans himself acknowledged the influences of Cormac McCarthy, Ernest Hemingway and Jack London. The New York Times critic Michiko Kakutani called it "a sappy romance novel, gussied up with some sentimental claptrap about the emotional life of animals and lots of Walleresque hooey about men and women".

But it shot to the top of the New York Times' bestseller list, ranked No15 for the year despite being released in the autumn, and remains one of the bestselling novels of all time. Redford's 1998 film, which starred the 14-year-old Scarlett Johansson as Grace, the teenager injured along with her prize horse, and Kristin Scott Thomas as her mother, who seeks out Redford's Booker, and has an affair with him, did well but was not a huge hit.

Evans was born in Bromsgrove, Worcestershire, the son of Anthony, the sales director of a motor engineering company, and Eileen (nee Whitehouse). He was head boy at Bromsgrove school, and after a year teaching in Senegal for Voluntary Service Overseas, went to St Edmund Hall, Oxford to study law, where he met Jenny Lyon, his future wife, in their first week.

After taking a first-class degree, he started work as a journalist for the Evening Chronicle in Newcastle. In 1975, he started at London Weekend Television, first on Weekend World and then the London Programme, the broadcaster's top current affairs show, before joining the South Bank Show as executive producer from 1982 to 1984.

After Murder By the Book, he adapted screenplays for the TV movies Acts of Betrayal (1988), about the IRA, and Secret Weapon (1990), the story of Mordechai Vanunu, the nuclear bomb whistleblower kidnapped by the Israelis and imprisoned for treason, and for the Julie Walters film Just Like a Woman (1992), based on Monica Jay's novel about a transvestite's romance with his landlady.

His second novel, The Loop (1998), brought a wolf biologist, Helen Ross, from Cape Cod into Yellowstone Park to cope with the reintroduction of wolves; pursued by a local lothario, she instead romances his 18-year-old son and cures his stutter. It sold 5m copies.

He followed this up with The Smoke Jumper (2001), whose titular protagonist is in love with his best friend's wife, and who exiles himself as a war photographer. Next came The Divide (2005), about a wealthy New York couple who holiday in Montana, where the body of their eco-terrorist daughter is discovered frozen in the mountain ice.

Evans and Jenny divorced in 1998. He then married the singer-songwriter Charlotte Gordon Cumming. In 2008, while on a visit to Gordon Cumming's brother's estate in Scotland, Evans picked mushrooms for a family lunch. What he thought were ceps were instead highly poisonous webcaps. Evans, Gordon Cumming and her brother were all placed on kidney dialysis. Three years later, Evans' heart began to suffer under the strain of dialysis, and his daughter Lauren provided him with a kidney; Gordon Cumming later received one donated from a friend.

At the time of the poisoning, Evans had almost finished his fifth novel, The Brave (2009), about a family's hidden secrets.

When he began writing again, thinking for the second time he needed to finish writing before he died, he said the book changed direction. "I found new empathy with the characters ... it became more emotional," he said. Gordon Cumming released an album of songs tied to the novel, and they campaigned together for kidney care and organ transplants.

The couple lived in a 14th-century manor house in Devon once owned by the film director Robert Bolt.

Evans is survived by Charlotte, their son, Finlay, his children Lauren and Max from his first marriage, and by Harry, his son from a relationship with the television producer Jane Hewland.

Nicholas Benbow Evans, writer and television producer, born 26 July 1950; died 9 August 2022

This article was amended on 22 August 2022. Evans' daughter Lauren is from his first marriage, rather than his second, as the original stated.

Michael Carlson [source: https--www.theguardian.com/books/2022/aug/16/nicholas-evans-obituary]