See you all in January. It's been great reading all your comments and we look forward to another interesting year of fun and discussion in 2010.
See you all in January. It's been great reading all your comments and we look forward to another interesting year of fun and discussion in 2010.
It’s a slippery thing, fiction! So I looked up a few definitions.
Story: a fictional narrative of briefer length than a novella. Then I looked up ‘Novella’ and discovered that the original ‘novels’ were probably the verbal relating of news from one town to another. The news was told to entertain as well as inform. The sequence of events changed. Some was held back, making the listeners desperate to know more…and so was born the ‘art’ of the story.
Art: the process or product of deliberately arranging elements in a way that appeals to the senses or emotions.
The short story is one of the most powerful forms of fiction. An arrangement of fictioncraft elements to elicit a response from the reader. ( Something that varies from mere enjoyment through to a real emotional punch in the gut). It is also one of the slipperiest forms of fiction –on one level it is easy to write (anyone can scribble a story in a few minutes – a sequence of events; a beginning, middle and end). But it is one of the most difficult to do well –that is the challenge for those of us who adore the form.
Maybe we love it for its power. The strength embodied in so few words, the way it can elicit a depth of emotional response that cannot be sustained (and rightly, or the reader would collapse!) for a whole novel. The way it can literally be life-changing.
Life changing? What IS this woman talking about?
I am not talking everyday page-fillers here, although they have their place. Instead, read ‘A Small Good Thing’ by Raymond Carver. Or ‘The Ledge’ by Lawrence Sargant Hall. Or ‘The Shawl’ by Cynthia Ozick. If you don’t feel changed, a little, you have not been reading properly. (All in Best American Shorts of the Century, ed: Updike)
Behind those stories is the craft of writing short fiction, applied by the masters.
I wanted a text book that would show me what was possible. Written not by a single writer but by many. By prize-winning writers who are also superb teachers. I wanted a book that did not treat me like an idiot. But neither would it treat fiction as though it was the province of academia, of the intelligent and cloistered few. It had to be fun, encouraging me to explore my own creativity whilst being solid on craft. It would not pretend that writing is a mystical happening. And it would, once I had started my journey, continue to feed me, to give me ideas, and most of all remind me that I am in the company of others.
That book now exists. It’s called Short Circuit. It has been out exactly a month today, and is already on the recommended reading lists of many writing courses. It is recommended by those behind the Bridport, Fish, Asham and Frank O Connor awards, by teachers of writing and by writers. It works.
Vanessa Gebbie’s short fiction has won many awards, including prizes at Bridport, Fish (twice), Per Contra (USA), the Daily Telegraph and the Willesden Herald, from final judges such as Zadie Smith, Tracy Chevalier, Michael Collins and Colum McCann. She is a freelance writing teacher working with adult groups at literary festivals as well as school students. In 2010 she will be teaching undergraduates at Stockholm University.
Many of her prize-winning stories are brought together for the first time in Words from a Glass Bubble (Salt, 2008). A second collection, Ed’s Wife and Other Creatures, is forthcoming.
Vanessa asks you to support independent publishers. The book can be bought direct from Salt with a 20% discount. (Also available from Amazon and the usual suspects.)
Do visit her website www.vanessagebbie.com or blog www.vanessagebbiesnews.blogspot.com and also http://www.theartoftheshortstory.com/
For those of you who remember Top of The Pops, I need you to get into the mood. Remember Dave Lee Travis? No? Just me then…
Imagine the countdown music. It goes something like this:
Na Na Na Na – Nah, Nah, Nah! Na Na Na Na – Nah, Nah, Nah! (Repeat repeatedly)
Top Ten Tips For The Unpublished Writer
- Never lose faith. You are a great writer.
- Read – preferably with your favourite snack on hand.
- Know what you’re writing about – your story. Be able to answer the question ‘So, what’s your story about?’ in a couple of snappy sentences.
- Know your audience.
- Know the difference between writing and editing.
- Choose your preferred agent and don’t give up.
- Write what you want to write – not what you think is trendy or commercial.
- Avoid people who do not support your dreams. They don’t have to ‘get’ them but they do have to support them.
- Join a writers group for feedback– real life or online.
- Write something every day, remembering to use your senses…
Ready again? And now…Cue the music. Na Na Na Na – Nah Nah Nah!
Top Ten Tips For The Published Writer
- Remember all of the top ten tips of the unpublished.
- Keep in touch with your agent and editor. Remember their birthdays.
- Never read Amazon reviews. I mean NEVER read them and in the event that you do - NEVER respond to them.
- Do not ask your agent to explain the term ‘returns’.
- Ignore the ‘bestsellers’ unless of course you are listed. Then feel free to embrace them. In print. In public. In Trafalgar Square.
- Don’t obsess about whether your agent/editor will like your current WIP as you’re writing it. Do you like it? You’re a published writer. You count.
- Sell yourself! Sell yourself! Sell yourself!
- Don’t stick your fingers in your ears and ignore the fact you have a deadline. Not a good plan.
- Write even when you don’t want to because YOU ARE PUBLISHED. You have an audience waiting for your next work of art.
- Limit internet activity and by this I mean blogging, tweeting, facebooking etc etc. to max of one hour a day. Try not to cyber hop. It’s distracting.
(This should really be in the above list too, but that would have made it eleven top ten tips which would have been odd at best.)
And now cue different music. Something less jaunty. Like the Death March?
- Morning television. It is the devils fare, produced mostly by men for women who want to write but will watch any old crap in order to avoid doing said writing.
- Sky plus re-runs of Ricky Whittle’s Argentine Tango on Strictly Come Dancing. It is a distraction. Worse than Facebook, Twitter and blogging combined – although far more pleasurable and very easy on the eye and good research for future sex scenes.
- Chocolate before 11am. It just leaves you wanting more. A bit like number two really...
- Blogger, Email, Facebook, Twitter etc etc. Pure procrastination tools.
- Answering the phone. Let the answer-phone get it.
- Thinking of food. Bad idea. Leaves you wanting some. A bit like number two really...
- Answering the door. Could be the window cleaner looking for cash which you inevitably won’t have at that moment in time. All that time wasted on explanations and apologies. Unless of course it’s Ricky Whittle. Then answer the door and make no apologies.
- Carbs after 6pm. ‘Writer’s ass’ is bad enough without adding to the problem with excess pounds.
- Too Much Booze. It is a well known fact that it’s difficult to write under the foggy haze of a hangover.
- Gyms. Go for a long walk instead. Much better for the brain and the writing synapse thingys. Awakens your senses. And you meet characters who walk dogs.
I could go on all day.
Okay, I’m suffering from ‘Whittle-itus’ but for those of you who haven’t seen it, have a look. He’s my number one. *Sigh*
Frailty – thy name is Fionnuala…
The story on the exchange student's MySpace social networking site was about the drugging and raping of a young woman. Can this stand up as evidence and can we believe that this is what she's like in real life? When the item emerged, headlines such as 'Amanda Knox wrote stories about rape' appeared in papers. So too does many a writer.
One of the University of Washington student's stories was called 'Baby Brother' and it gained a total of one comment - not much by comparison. The Daily Mail at the time said the writing on Knox's blog gave a worrying insight into her bizarre life. But critics who were clued up suggested that the only confirmation here was that she was a poor short story writer, given her constant use of 'furrowed brows' overly long sentences and poor descriptions.
It's interesting to note that my Work In Progress starts with the live skinning of cats and dogs in China. Now if I'd been a suspect in an animal cruelty case I most certainly would have been questioned and charged. However, I'm a vegetarian, and have been for the past 19 years, and I'm also a member of PETA. Would the jury believe me if I stood up and said that?
If there's a topic I'm interested in and want to read up on, I tend to go as close to the epicentre as possible. In this case, there's The Seattle Times, the stranger.com and Seattlepi.com, all of whom are carrying stories about her relatives protesting her innocence. And they seem to be fascinated too with her writing. According to a report in the Telegraph which was published only days after her life sentence was handed out in the court in Perugia, Amanda won a prison essay-writing competition which centred on a young woman who was injured during a drugs-fuelled sex party. Surely this is enough to confirm her guilt?
Emily Gale is a London-born writer of children’s books, currently living in Australia. Girl Aloud is her first book for teenagers. Emily has kindly given us a signed copy of Girls Aloud to give away to one lucky person who comments below. The winner will be chosen out of the SW hat and posted up on Friday.
Kass Kennedy, the main character in Girl Aloud, is being pushed to audition for the X Factor against her better judgement. What gave you the idea for the story, Emily?
The initial spark came from thinking about pushy parents – in particular there were a few first-round auditions on The X-Factor in which the kids were tragically lacking in X and the parents were wearing gigantic rose-coloured spectacles. Watching those clips made me want to go home with the families and find out the set-up: how you go from clapping adoringly at your toddler singing Incey Wincey Spider, to encouraging them to make utter twits of themselves on national television? I wanted to complicate matters by giving my main character a lot of oomph and absolutely no desire to be a star – we hear a lot these days that “everyone wants their 15 minutes of fame” and I was sure my character wasn’t interested in that. So the dysfunction of the family grew from that scenario.
How easy was your road to publication?
I worked as a children’s editor for several years and following that I published a few pre-school books, so that fell into my lap but the journey to publish Girl, Aloud was a lot trickier. I had a false start with my first agent (with a different book) and we parted ways - at the time I thought that was it, that you only get one shot at it. I’m happy to say that’s completely wrong. I wrote Girl, Aloud purely for my own enjoyment and to prove to myself that even though things hadn’t worked out, the writing part was the most important. I did the usual rounds of subbing to agents and seemed to be at that frustrating “so close but no banana” stage for ages (ages in my eyes, not actually ages), but then I found Louise Burns at Andrew Mann. Her suggestions for rewrites made such sense to me that I was happy to do them even without a guarantee at the end that she’d take me on. But she did. It was a relief to have someone fighting my corner at last. Most of the subbing happened while I was in the process of emigrating to Australia, which I think helped a great deal with that usually awful waiting process (granted that’s probably not very practical advice for most people). And then came Chicken House, and an editor who liked the serious aspects of my novel as well as the fun bits. Finally the stars were all aligned. I do think stars aligning is a huge part of it. That and persistence. And Simon Cowell, obviously.
You also write for young children. How different a discipline is that from writing the teen stuff?
I’m fortunate to have a couple of willing guinea pigs (I mean children, I actually can’t stand guinea pigs or anything else rodenty) so I’m thinking of them when I write picture books, instead of conjuring up my inner teenager. I don’t find the process so very different apart from that because I think in terms of visual scenes in both cases. In one sense the younger stuff can seem easier because the end is always in sight, or you can hold the whole in your hands and look at it from all angles – not like writing a novel where it often seems insurmountable and messy.
So is it easier?
There is no room for self-indulgence and every single word must be precisely right in a picture book. As the author there is a skill in letting the pictures do some of the talking, which if you’re not an illustrator is an extra challenge. I consider myself to be a Learner and am just as ambitious about picture books as I am about future novels.
The main character’s father in Girl, Aloud has mental health issues. Did you do a lot of research before writing the book?
As I’m slightly allergic to planning I have to say that no, I didn’t research before I started to write. The dad’s character crept up on me during the course of the first draft. The shape of the story was laid down and then when I knew exactly what was what I went deeper into his mental health issues, reading up on the types of emotions children go through – the questions they ask, such as: is it my fault? That was a big part of what I was interested in, in terms of the story. So, it was a mixture of reading guidance aimed at young people, online forums, personal experience and then plain old imagination.
Are you a quick first drafter, or do you edit as you go along?
I was the kind of writer who can’t move on from an imperfect phrase, until this book. In November 2006 I decided to do NaNoWriMo, having been dismissive of it before. I was 8 months pregnant, we were in the middle of renovating our flat (no proper kitchen, no proper bathroom kinda scenario) and I intended to have a rip-roaring month of intensive writing before the birth. It was completely eye-opening – thrilling, writing-in-the-dark, writing without a care, putting one word in front of the other and knowing that was okay, I could fix it later. Very liberating. There was a lot of rewriting, of course, and although I haven’t done NaNoWriMo since it has changed the way I work – I’m much easier on myself these days and appreciate how important the rewriting process is, so I let myself get away with the odd dodgy sentence or unfinished thought. I think I’m still quite strict on the actual prose but I let myself skip over things more – as a result I’m usually adding-to at the redraft stage rather than cutting.
Which writers make your heart sing?
Oh, too many! I’ll have to limit myself to four or we’ll be here all day and no one wants that. I am in awe of the originality and quirkiness of YA author Jaclyn Moriarty (have just finished her latest, Dreaming Of Amelia) and only wish I had the edginess and truth of Simmone Howell (try Everything Is Beautiful). Recently I discovered Christos Tsoliakis (The Slap) and he blew me away; so clever, so accomplished at different voices. I have a huge literary crush on Kate Grenville (favourite being The Idea Of Perfection). You can tell I’ve recently moved to Australia, can’t you?
Describe a perfect writing day…
It really depends where I am in the book. I remember a day, towards the end of a big rewrite, when my partner whisked the children away in the morning and stayed out for hours – and I sat in my pyjamas and drank tea and didn’t wash or speak or pay any attention to the outside world until the job was done. The unwashed / not getting dressed part seemed to be significant – something about indulging that one burning desire, to finish, and ignoring all else. Wonderful. But that’s a rare thing. Mostly I’m clawing for time….
I am talking, of course, about the three stars of Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight Series. Today I am (rather bravely, I think), putting forward my case on the respected bibliophile’s site, Vulpes Libris, So, please, any of you who have loved the series as much as I have, take a look; back me up; I might need all the help I can get!
Why? Because, like so many commercially successful novelists, Meyer has been much maligned – regarding the quality of her writing, the quality of her characters, her motives for writing these stories. Even the Vatican has added its criticism. Yet, not for years, have I sped through such a serial, reading late into the night. Vampires? Werewolves? With a good dose of unrequited love? What more could a girl want? Ah yes, I know – Robert Pattinson cast as the hero when the book finally made it to film.
So, do take a look at the arguments in my article, and this one , posted by Eve Harvey on Vulpes, earlier in the year. In it, she explains why she "hates" Twilight.
Which side do you take? And haven’t we been here before with Dan Brown and JK Rowling?
Being slightly Christmas-phobic I’ve decided to leave all tinsel related topics in the capable hands of other Strictlies less inclined to panic attacks whenever the subject of Delia’s Christmas versus Nigella’s is raised. Instead, in this post I’ll mostly be focusing on two writing relating incidents that have particularly caught my attention this week.
The first is by way of the lovely Alan Bennett, whom I shall forbear to call “that National Treasure.” In the cockle-warming "Bennett on Bennett”, broadcast last Saturday evening on BBC4, he remarked how embarrassed he always became when people told him what a nice man he was.
"When people say, you know, you're nice-natured or kind-hearted or so on, about a writer, that's never entirely true, because there's always this monkey on your shoulder, as it were, you know, watching," he says.
Though no stranger to the habit of observing life one step removed and often times wondering how long I can decently afford to leave it before wringing a story out of someone’s misfortune, I’ve always found it a slightly distasteful trait to admit to. But if Alan Bennett can own up to it on national TV then suddenly I don’t feel so bad about myself any more.
In fact, from here on in I intend to call the monkey on my shoulder Alan. He is slightly round-shouldered with the benign, shortsighted expression of a vicar and his favourite food is Garibaldi biscuits. What’s your monkey called?
What happened earlier this week, when an email from fellow womag writer, Womag, herself, came pinging into my inbox, turned my thoughts in a completely different direction.
I’d written a story that appeared in last month’s Fiction Feast called “Not Wild About Harry” which I’d set in what I fondly imagined to be one of those grotty rented houses we all lived in as students, that smell of damp and unemptied bins.
Womag was very nice about the story and said she’d never thought of setting a story in a Hall of Residence? A what? I spluttered – not out loud, of course. But how could she have thought this was a hall of residence? I’d imagined it clearly in my mind. A tall, Edwardian terraced house, squashed up against other tall, Edwardian terraced houses. From the outside the view is of curtains that don’t meet in the middle and a black bin takes pride of place in the four foot square front garden.
I’d written all this, hadn’t I? Surely anyone with half a brain who’d read my story would have picked up on all this description? That was when I thought that perhaps I really ought to go back to the story itself. And here is what I wrote regarding the description of the building in which the story took place: -
She’d watch him taking those big strides down the street, past the overgrown privet hedge, then up the path.
Yes. I’m a bit embarrassed now, actually.
You see, I don’t like writing descriptions of places. Frankly, I’m rubbish at it. I never remember any place I’ve visited for longer than about two hours, though I can remember a face I glimpsed in a crowd for twenty years.
But maybe I can forgive myself on this score too. Readers have imaginations. They don’t need long descriptions of settings, which they’d probably just skip anyway. The story is the thing and everything else is just gravy.
See, I knew there was a connection between the monkey and describing places. And it’s this. Don’t beat yourself up about the things you feel guilty about – hogging writing time when you should be making nourishing meals for your family, that streak of curiosity that borders on the prurient. And don’t be disparaging of the B minuses in your writing.
Be nice to yourself. It’s the season of goodwill, after all. Good heavens. Did I mention Christmas?
There, I’ve said it.
I tried, really I did. I fed them organic pieces of cardboard...sorry, rice cakes, I read them poetry. I even played Classic FM on the school run.
Alas, they now settle down each Saturday night with a packet of crisps and the remote control, discussing whether Cheryl Cole is the most beautiful woman on the planet and whether Simon Cowell waxes his hands.
Worse still, I have been sucked into my children’s world.
Yes, I am now an avid watcher of the darn show. I won’t say I’m a fan but must admit to an unseemly interest in the whole spectacle.
One of the things that fascinates me most is the constant commentary from the press and public as to which candidate is ‘the complete package.’
It transpires that it’s not enough that Joe McElderry sings like an angel. The guy will never make it, apparently, until someone fixes his teeth.
Similarly Stacey Solomon gains more column inches for her giggling than her undoubted talent for belting out a song. How, the public asks, will she ever give interviews when she’s clearly bonkers.
Have these people never heard of David Bowie or Kate Bush?
I must confess it makes me slightly uncomfortable, not least because this idea that an artist must be all things, ‘the complete package’, is gaining pace in the publishing world.
Nowadays, it’s simply not enough to pen a good story. A writer needs to be able to engage with radio DJs, write pithy features and lead creative workshops in schools and libraries. All of which require skills that may not be part of the average scribbler’s make-up.
I’m currently doing the publicity rounds for my latest novel and have been told, with indecent rubbing of hands, that I have a terrific back story.
Well, of course I’m pleased about that. And I actually enjoy chatting about work and craft. I’m naturally loud and opinionated and I have a terrific arse for radio.
I don’t even mind being asked for my views on being a working parent, or whether Olly Murs is the new Robbie. My commitment is to my book and I will do whatever it takes to help it reach an audience. And I’ll do it happily.
And yet...I do worry that the idea of being a personality is taking hold. And that like the poor contestants of The X Factor, being great at what you do will never be enough.
I worry that good writers won’t cut it because they couldn’t do the whole publicity thing.
A friend asked me today, why the hell I care, when I’m like a pig in the proverbial.
The answer, in truth, is I’m not sure.
Maybe I’m just being old fashioned.
But, you see, I love books and I love reading and I would hate to be dnied a fantastic author just because they needed a brace, or couldn’t dance.
Oh ignore me.
As my kids never tire of telling me, I’m just showing my age.
I started out as a short story writer. In fact, it was winning two short story competitions that established me as a ‘proper’ writer (in my own mind, if not in anyone else’s!) – and I went on to have stories published regularly in Woman’s Realm, Woman’s Weekly, Woman, etc. I was proud of this, and so were my friends and family – but I did come across a certain amount of snobbery from people who had no idea how difficult it is to achieve publication in these magazines, and who presumed I’d try to go on from there to ‘have something more serious published’. As if it were that easy!
Well, I’ve never had much ambition to have anything ‘serious’ published – whatever that means. But like lots of short story writers, having a novel published did seem like the ultimate goal. To be honest, working full-time, as I was back then, and with three teenage daughters, a dog and two cats to look after (not to mention a husband and a house), even finding the time to write a novel seemed more like a silly fantasy than a goal. I did try – several times – and abandoned the resulting pathetic attempts, most of them fortunately before submitting them anywhere. But then I had the idea for The Trouble With Ally – a kind of chick-lit novel about an older woman – a fairly new theme back in 1990 when I started writing it. I was so fired with enthusiasm, so sure this time it was going to work, that I finished it, liked it, submitted it. Don’t ask how I found the time – the job, kids, animals and husband must have all suffered neglect! Over the course of eighteen months I collected rejections, although several of the agents I tried were complimentary but didn’t take me on. I moved on to trying publishers direct and eventually, after several more rejections, got a two-book deal with Piatkus.
In the eyes of those who had been slightly toffee-nosed about my women’s magazines stories, I was now suddenly a ‘really proper writer’ – an author of a book. Friends and colleagues rushed out to buy it and some were surprised to find it was even less serious than the magazine stories. In fact, it was humorous and quite cheeky! But – OK, I’m only human – I’ll admit that the kudos of having a novel out there in bookshops, being translated into foreign languages, and actually being bought and read (by a few people) – was fantastic! What with publisher’s parties, interviews with local papers, invitations to speak to writers groups and so on, life as a novelist seemed more thrilling than that of a magazine story writer – or that of a medical secretary, my day job, for that matter! I don’t think I ever recovered enough from the surprise of being published to become ‘up-myself’ though – I try to remember I’m only as good as my next contract. Non-existent at the moment!
I’d like to say I went on to being able to give up the day job because I’d earned so much from my novels and was made for life. But as we know, this only happens in fairy stories or if you’re one of a tiny percentage of very lucky devils – or a celebrity. I did give up the day-job – after I’d had five novels published under my own name and started writing a series of three under the pseudonym of Olivia Ryan – but this was because of needing a fairly serious operation. I retired early and took on the title I’d craved all my life – ‘Full Time Writer’. Of course, this doesn’t earn me a living, so in an attempt to boost the income I’ve now gone full-circle and started writing short stories again, alongside the novels.
And it hasn’t got any easier! In fact, it’s harder now than it was a decade ago. There are less magazines publishing stories, more of us seeking publication, and editors’ requirements are more defined. So it’s been just as gratifying to have some stories accepted this time around, as it was the first time. Some days I work on my new novel; other days on a short story. With some experience of both now, I’d say neither is easier, or less satisfying, than the other. Different skills are needed – and both are immensely enjoyable. Trying to have a foot in both camps might seem crazy but with today’s difficult climate in publishing, I believe ‘hedging our bets’ between different writing forms is the way to go if we can manage it. In fact I also write the occasional feature. And now – thanks to Strictly Writing – I’ve written for someone else’s blog too!
Sheila Norton writes contemporary relationship-based fiction and has had five novels published under her own name and now a series of three under the name of Olivia Ryan. She’s also had more than 100 stories published in women’s magazines.
She lives with her husband in Chelmsford, Essex and has three grown-up daughters.
Her own blog is at http://oliviaryanblogspot.blogspot.com – and her websites are www.sheilanorton.co.uk and www.oliviaryan.com
I think I’ve been a good girl this year. Just look at this blog! Just look at my latest book! Um – okay, it hasn’t found a home yet, but it’s the best I’ve produced in terms of editing, taking on board criticism and research. Although I know I’ve been ratty; wept at rejection; eaten too much chocolate. But I’ve not given up. I’m determined. So, please, may I request the following gifts?
1) A large bottle of patience, two spoonfuls of which I can take directly after each submission.
2) A generous slice of humble pie, for those moments when I come over all X-Factor Contestant, and tell myself I should already be choosing my dress for the world movie premiere of my novel.
3) Contact lenses to hide the green in my eyes when yet another writing friend gets a deal. Envy is not an attractive quality, Santa, I know, but I can’t escape it and have decided camouflage will be more effective than seeking a cure.
4) Vouchers for cognitive therapy to help cure me of my email obsession.
5) Clear instructions on how to write in the First Person without being too introspective.
6) A remote control that won’t let me access digital dross. My time would be much better spent reading, rather than watching Girls of the Playboy Mansion (I even know all their names by now).
7) A gadget to give me an electric shock, every time I encourage my children to pursue a career in publishing. Although it’s their fault really, for promising year in year out, that one day they'll publish my books.
8) One of those implants that makes you vomit when you imbibe alcohol. Since I started writing, Mr Jacob Creek and Miss Blossom Hill are my best buddies.
9) A best-selling dream - like Stephanie Meyer's one encapsulating the idea of Twilight.
10) A social life.
Thanks, Santa! I can’t wait to see what I get on Christmas Morn. And aren’t you impressed? This is the first year I haven’t asked for a publishing deal. I’ve matured, you see – I realize now, the only thing that will get me that is hard work. No one’s going to magically slip a contract onto my desk. Not even you.
Best wishes, as always,
So, come on folks! 'Fess up! What’s on your literary wish list this year?
My novelist’s group were discussing getting agents (as you do) recently. The prevalent feeling was that most published writers were lucky enough to have got an ‘in’ - a chance meeting, a recommendation, someone who knew someone else who knew… I’ve heard of a few writers who’ve been picked up off the slush pile, but they do seem to be in the minority. Of course, your book has to be sh** hot as well. But I couldn’t help but wonder (a la Carrie Bradshaw):
Do we have to learn how to network as well as how to write?
When I worked at the BBC, I remember being told that my ‘profile’ wasn’t high enough in my department and that I needed to raise it. I was up in arms. I thought I was there to make programmes. And truth be known, I’m a lousy networker. The thought of arriving at some huge writerly event and infiltrating groups of people I don’t know fills me with abject terror. Strangely, I’d have no problem standing up in front of people and talking. It’s the informal, one-to-one stuff that’s so scary.
With the popularity and proliferation of literary events these days – The York Literature Festival being the latest – there are more and more opportunities for aspiring writers to rub shoulders with agents, publishers and authors. Indeed, many festivals now include bookable one-to-ones with agents, each lasting about ten minutes, during which said aspirants can pitch their novel. There are also those terrifying ‘Pitch Idol’ type evenings where you can compete with about fifteen other writers in front of a panel to convince an agent to take you on. I went to one in Cornwall (as a member of the audience, I should quickly add) where the panel included Simon Cowell’s half-brother (who happens to be a literary agent). It was all very entertaining. But is this something I want to do?
The online equivalent, I suppose, are sites like Authonomy and You Write On, where hours are spent ‘networking’ to gain the attention of a) fellow writers and, through them b) publishers or agents. Sadly it seems that the majority of these hours are wasted, since only one writer has been ‘plucked off the slush pile’ at Authonomy and both sites now seem to have segued seamlessly into offering self-publishing services.
The irony is that if I were confident at speaking and meeting n’greeting and networking, I’d not be a writer. I’d probably be an agent. Writing is the way I communicate best. Yet I suspect that part of the writerly ‘package’ these days includes an ability to be confident socially and adept at persuading, arguing, and otherwise influencing people verbally. Preferably with a Unique Selling Point which will go down well on the telly, the patience of Job and the tenacity of, er, someone tenacious. All this on top of having the talent to write an amazing, marketable book.
Tell you what, by the time I’ve developed all these assets, I’m not only going to be a bankable writer. I’ll also be an incredible – and probably insufferable - human being.
No. It wasn’t a short story competition. If my Ace-King hadn’t run into an extremely lucky (whole stream of expletives deleted) Ace-Seven on the other side of the table, it could easily have been $10,000. The week before I won $2,678 one evening and about $700 another. This is all bad news. Poker is one of the things I do when I’m not writing.
An online poker tournament requires hours of application and concentration in front of a computer screen – sounds familiar? It demands an overall plan implemented through a serious of micro-decisions. It demands insight into a variety of characters, predicting their reactions in challenging circumstances, without actually meeting them. It rewards a certain amount of creativity and preparedness to put yourself on the line, to click caution to the wind, throw all your chips on the table, take a big risk and do what you know is right in the situation. But stop! Let’s not admit this analogy. They have nothing in common. Poker is simply a way to avoid writing when I’ve got the hideous block parked on my chest.
The others are: going to the gym, booking tickets to the World Cup, spending time with my son, spending time with my girlfriend, cooking great meals, reading South African guidebooks in preparation for said World Cup. I’ve even tried to con myself into thinking I might set a story in South Africa one day based on this research. Nonsense and delusion.
In other words, I have a wonderful life (if you don't want to be a writer). But for me, all these activities must be stamped out. All non-writing time is a waste of life and at the moment I’m wasting nearly all of it. Work has spread through my world like the flu.
This doesn’t Strictly count. It’s not real writing; it’s not fiction. Poetry counts, but I’m not writing any poems at the moment.
I know you think all life experience is valuable as the raw material for fiction, but I'm afraid you are wrong. I've done my living. Now I want to do my writing.
This is my last slot before Christmas so I also want to take the chance to say HAPPY CHRISTMAS! to everyone who visits these pages. In the New Year I resolve to publish posts bubbling with enthusiasm for writing.
A couple of months ago, Colin Mulhern did a guest post for us on the advantages of blogging. So let's say you have decided to go ahead and are currently canvassing opinion about the merits of Wordpress, Blogger, Posterous and Tumblr. With free software so quick and easy to set up, it's tempting to dive right in and launch 'Fred's Self-absorbed Musings' with a post about how the publishing industry hates you and writing is soooo hard and only slebs get book deals because agents are too stupid to accept your stream-of-consciousness account of life as a depressed headlouse. Before starting a blog, however, there are a few things that might be worth considering:
What's it for?
There is no right answer – everyone has their own motivation, but it's helpful to know what that motivation is. A few examples:
To attract the attention of agents or publishers
To publicise an already-published book
To keep a personal journal
To regale the world with your superior knowledge about everything
To enjoy the achievement of completing short pieces while working on a novel.
To campaign on an issue that is important to you.
Identifying the purpose of your blog will help you start – and, more importantly, keep going - on the right track.
How are you going to sustain it?
You don't have to blog every day, but to build up a regular readership you do need to update often – preferably two or three times a week. Is this possible? Have a think about what subjects you want to write on – will you really be able to keep generating regular posts for years, or will it soon become a chore?
Who will read it, and will they all be people you know anyway?
Consider whether your blog will appeal only to the 20 people you already talk to every day online. If that's exactly who you want to reach, that's fine, but if you're looking for a wider audience, think about what will attract and retain them – the blog needs to give them something (e.g. entertainment, knowledge, useful advice), not just beg for their attention.
Does it really have to be about writing?
Just because you're a writer, that doesn't mean you have to blog about writing. Of course, there might be tons you want to say on that subject – if so, great! There are other topics in the world, however. I made the mistake of setting up a writing blog and then realising I don't know a whole lot about it. My history blog, however, has a bottomless supply of material that appeals to people who like history – many of whom also like to read historical fiction.
What's it going to be called?
It's possible to set up a blog very quickly in a fit of enthusiasm. But it's worth spending some time thinking about a name. 'My Ponderings' might be ideal for a personal diary that you don't expect others to read, but it won't necessarily stand out from everyone else's musings, jottings, random thoughts etc. A name can also end up limiting what you write about – be too specific and it will be difficult to shift the direction of the blog once you've got into the swing of it.
These are just a few points I wish I'd put more thought into before I started my first blog. Of course, one of the wonderful things about blogging is that you can write what the heck you like without me or anyone else telling you how – but I reckon it's worth doing a bit of planning before you jump into the blogosphere head first.
My recent purchase of the new Iphone 3GS (note - takes up vital writing time!) revealed there are ample e-book applications which can be downloaded. I went forth into 'cyberphonespace' and obtained 'The Last of the Mohicans' which was free via an application. Most books are available at a cost and the e-book application works through the itunes facility. But while reading, I struggled with eye strain, and I kept having flashbacks involving sitting at my office desk. I felt I was working, rather than relaxing and enjoying reading as a past-time.
You know when you have a formless blob of an idea floating around in your head? It could end up nowhere, but equally, it could end up being a half decent story. It’s a bit like having a lump of dough that needs to prove and bake into something with a purpose. And I don’t compare food and stories lightly, but I still compare them.
Sometimes you need to allow an idea, or a scene, to lurk inside your brain for a while until it takes shape. My friend Alexandra talks about putting it in The Mullage Machine.
I have a very half-baked idea for a new children’s book right now and as always with me at this stage, it’s more about feeling a certain atmosphere than a tangible idea in which A, B and C happen. It’s so half-baked in fact, that I’m worried I have incurred the wrath of the Muse’s bouncers by even mentioning it. [If you’ve never come across the Muse’s bouncers before, believe me, they’re not to be messed with. The Muse wafts about in a diaphanous dress with flowers in her hair but her bouncers have tattoos on their knuckles and steel toecaps in their boots. They’ll escort you off the premises with a few broken limbs and a black eye as soon as look at you. I’ve posted before about how I managed to kill a book by blabbing all over the place about it instead of writing it. I won’t make that mistake again, beyond asking my nearest and dearest questions like, ‘So what would happen if…?’ and ‘Have you ever heard of this…?’
But as long as you keep schtum and don’t leave the idea in the mullage machine for too long, this can be one of the most delicious stages of writing something new. At this point, the book is perfect. Anything could happen and the story could go anywhere. The prose is brilliantly polished and yet natural, the plot will do all the things a plot should do. [Note that I haven’t listed them. That’s because I don’t really know. Answers on a postcard please to the usual address]. The characters will make sparkling dialogue and behave just like living breathing people. Except they’ll be much more interesting than real people.
So if you haven’t touched a keyboard or pen in relation to your current story but have been cranking up the mullage machine instead, don’t worry.
Thinking can sometimes be writing too.
Left on a cliffhanger or told all?
Told all. Cliffhanger is just teasing.
You really must read…
The Moth Diaries by Rachel Klein. Great for teenagers, great for adults.
My biggest tip for a writer is…
Keep writing. You never know which story or character is going to take off. And a rejection one year is an immediate offer the next.
An author should never…
Copy other stories or styles
My pet hate in a submission package is…
Feedback from the author’s children saying they loved it. It would be unusual for your own child to be an impartial literary critic.
Favourite desktop snack
I’m on the LighterLife diet at the moment, so no snacks; just cheerless food packs.
Best thing about my job is…
Email or phone?
The hardest part of my job is…
Rejections of good books
The most common mistake I see is…
Lack of plot. Sometimes people forget that writing is about telling a story.
If I didn’t work in the literary business I would be a…
Riding instructor, or airline pilot.
The perfect book deal is…
In writing. Editors who wax lyrical over a mss, leaving you and the author in hopes of a big offer, can leave you high and dry when their commissioning team don’t agree with them. So the only offers worth getting excited about are the ones that arrive in writing, with all the figures in place
I get most excited by…
Book deals in writing
It has been a bloody hard slog. Normally, I write quickly anyway, but this is something else. The energy required is beyond a working Mum whose other half is currently eating horse and chips in Kiev.
I’ve also noticed a shift in the atmosphere on the NaNo forums.
Strangely, edit like a bastard and submit to an agent seems to not be the popular choice.
Instead there is much talk of self publishing. Companies like Lulu and Blurb are being mentioned as good bets to see your work in print.
I must admit to feeling a little uneasy about recommendations like this. I mean, I have nothing against self publishing per se. It’s a free country and if you fancy getting your work turned into a book, well why the hell not?
What worries me, though, is the idea that this will lead on to something. That if someone, somewhere in the publishing industry happens upon your self -published tome that ‘good things’ will come to pass.
This is not, I have to say, a point of view the self-publishing companies discourage. If I had a pound for every time GP Taylor’s story is trotted out...well it would be bigger than my last advance.
I can’t help but think, though, that this is highly unlikely to be replicated by many authors, particularly if they don’t spend the weeks/months editing that most of us do.
Interestingly, these discussions have been drawn to my attention at the same time that Authonomy have released news that they are now providing an editorial service.
For those of you who don’t know, Authonomy is owned by HarperCollins, and was set up as a forum where would-be-published writers could upload their work with the hopes of being spotted by an editor at the publishing house.
An incredible number of people have taken part in the hope of that all illusive publishing deal.
The whole thing came under criticism for being a cynical way for HC to relieve themselves of their slush pile, and that nothing would ever make it to the book shelves.
To some degree those critics were silenced when Miranda Dickinson was plucked out by my own imprint, Avon, and her first book, Fairytale of New York, was published earlier this month.
So it’s with disappointment in some quarters that Authonomy has now changed its remit and is offering an editorial service. These things don’t come cheap, and again, very rarely result in a work being published.
I sometimes worry that self publishing companies, editorial services, CW classes etc just prey upon aspiring writers, offering hope and taking the cash. I know we have free will to do as we please and no-one is forcing anyone to pay up, but it still makes me uneasy.
That these ideas and solutions are now taking hold in NaNo – lovely, Pollyanna-ish, writing for the fun, NaNo, is, I feel, a shame.
‘Second Novelitis’ is hard.
First, because you’ve left Novel One in edit mode and it takes time to make the transition back to creative mode. Second, because you’ve (probably) faced a whole heap of rejection and lost much of your starry-eyed innocence and hope. Third, because Novel One’s been a steep learning curve in terms of the craft of writing and suddenly you're self-conscious about every idea, every word, every turn of the plot. Is it ‘good’ enough? Is it ‘right?’ It’s hard to focus in on the emerging energy of a new story and new characters when your anxious writerly antennae are swivelling to pick up imaginary critiques from the outside world. I’ve been stuck in this rut for about a year after First Novel. True, life threw in some blows too, which didn’t help. But now, please raise a glass (not an eyebrow) because – taa-daaah!!! I’m writing again.
Two events have brought this into being. The first is NaNoWriMo. In a moment of sanity, I suggested to a friend that we do a private NaNo. She had 40,000 words to edit, I had that much – and much more – to write. We agreed to set daily targets, to call each other each night and to meet once a week. Thanks to this, I’ve got back into the daily habit of writing.
The second is something invaluable that the above friend said, bless her:
The first draft is for you.
The second draft is for your reader.
What a liberating thing. I’d been approaching my second novel as if it were not mine, if you see what I mean. I was continually squinting at it, trying to imagine how it might look to the outside world of agents, critiquers, publishers. It didn’t belong to me.
I realised that I needed to take ownership of my writing again. To write the story that pleases my soul, warms my heart. To just go for it and let it be what it wants to become. To be private with it, to hold it close, and allow it to come into being.
Next year, hopefully, I will be moving into the second half of the quote. I will look at my work objectively, editorially, critically. I will think about what the reader wants and I will work on my draft until it satisfies this criterion. But until then, I give myself free rein to write the way I want to.
Remember that Fawlty Towers episode where Basil manages, against all the odds, to win money on a horse? Even though he had to pay a recalcitrant guest for breaking her newly-bought pot? He handed her the money for it, and was left with a large wodge of notes. ‘What’s that?’ she asked. Basil’s face assumed a rare, satisfied smile. ‘This?’ he said, drawing the notes to his lips. ‘This is mine.’
I know how he feels.
The issue of accuracy in historical fiction is one I'm often asked about. Does the word 'fiction' give a writer licence to ignore historical detail where the story demands it, or should the story be moulded to fit within the known facts, perhaps with a resulting lack of drama?
When people talk about historical inaccuracy, they are usually thinking of outright anachronisms – medieval serfs scrubbing germs off potatoes, or a Tudor apothecary doing CPR. Often, however, it's not that black and white. If I wrote a full exploration of historical accuracy in fiction it would be somewhat too long for a blog post, so I'm going to concentrate today on dialogue – an aspect where getting it 'right' can actively thwart your chances of creating a novel that works.
Let's take an extreme example, and say your book is set in Roman Britain. Are you seriously going to have your Roman characters talking in Latin? What about your heroic underdogs from various Celtic tribes? The likelihood of a significant number of modern readers been well-versed in each of these languages is slim, to say the least. Historical accuracy, in this instance, would prevent the novel ever reaching an audience. Even in the event of someone desperately wanting to read in Latin and Iceni, they would never get the chance because no publisher in their right mind would take it on.
Less extreme dialogue issues crop up for other historical periods – in my first book, set in 18th-century Chester, I had to consider a regional dialect that even people in other parts of the country at the time wouldn't have understood. An exact rendering of the way people spoke would at best slow down the flow of the story and at worst leave readers wondering what on earth was going on. More generally, using thees and thous, forsooths and do-not-yous – although perhaps perfectly accurate to the time your novel is set – can now look clichéd and forced.
On the other hand, to have characters speaking in an identifiably modern voice is equally unsatisfying (although it can be done successfully for comic effect). Dialogue needs to meet the reader's expectations of what is 'historical' without annoying them or making them flick back to a glossary every few lines.
My way of doing historical dialogue is to let myself go completely overboard in the first draft. I don't care how archaic or regional the dialogue sounds – I put whatever instinctively feels right, and at that stage, no one is going to read it anyway. I just bung in as many unusual words and colourful slang as I feel like – it's fun! Later, during the editing process, I replace many of the obscure terms but keep the sentence structure. This is like excavating the bare bones of the speech patterns, so that the dialogue is accessible but still clearly not of our own time.
On occasions, however, a word not in modern use is the perfect word for a character to use, and in these instances I am all for including it. Usually it's possible to make the meaning clear from the context, and most readers are intelligent enough to work it out. (And if not, well... there's not much you can do for some people!)
Writing historical dialogue is not about being historically correct but about using sleight of hand to create an illusion. You have to find the balance that makes the dialogue unobtrusive, so that it fits in so well – it's just so obviously how the characters would speak - that it doesn't even excite comment on whether or not it's accurate. And with that, forsooth, 'tis time for me to ende this blogge-poste and let thee wende forth thy merrie waye.
2) Don’t be scared of adverbs. I recently battled over the use of ‘reluctantly’. I told myself it was lazy, that really I should show the character’s feelings about having to go down and answer the door in the middle of doing her homework.
Nessie tossed her pen on the table and went downstairs – um, no, makes her sound ratty.
Nessie sighed and went downstairs – um, not too bad but she’s already done a bit of sighing.
Nessie stuck her fingers in her ears and carried on with her homework – um, no because then the doorbell will have to be run more frantically/she will have to be called down more loudly, and really it’s not that sort of scene.
Reluctantly Nessie left her homework and went downstairs – perfect.
3) Probably not something many of you need telling, but when I first started out I got it into my head that my prose and dialogue had to be written ‘properly’, that I couldn’t possibly put down abbreviations and contemporary references and slang and ungrammatical sentences. I now realize that is not the case at all - especially with my current commerical teen book. I guess what I’m saying is, don’t be afraid to write how people speak - where necessary.
4) Kill the Thesaurus. Honestly – it’s just for occasional use. Like a large Havana cigar, treat it as a luxury, one that can give intense pleasure (when you actually find the right word) but, in excess will kill all your hard work. Keep your vocabulary simple. Avoid the exotic.
5) Vary your word structure, especially if you are writing in the first person, otherwise the word ‘I’ will jump out at the reader. If you read widely, you will no doubt instinctively use a variety of conjunctions and vary the position of your clauses. I was very aware of word structure the first time I wrote a novel in the first person, but have noticed, after consciously tracking and changing the position of the different parts of my sentences, a book later the whole process comes much more naturally. So, some things can be self-taught.
6) Finally, over time you’ll learn which advice to take on board and which to ignore. One of the ones I now pay less attention to concerns the throwing down of the first draft. Yes, I throw mine down, but then I’ll hone a day’s work, edit it and polish, before moving on. Doesn’t mean to say I won’t rewrite it all at the end, it’s simply the way I work and one reason I am failing miserably at Nano! Embrace your own foibles. Do what works for you.
Well, folks, I could go on and on. But I won’t. I’ll open up the floor. What can you teach us all?
Like a new love affair.
Not much room for anything else.
Hence no inspiration for today’s post.
Lay on my bed (Works for Rod?)
Thought of posting first chapter of new WIP?
Then thought against it.
Decided to post a flash fiction piece so you would have something to read.
And not disjointed like this drivel.
Challenge was to write a story in less than 250 words using the word ‘skinny.’
I love flashing.
(Don’t be rude)
This one is called “Skinny Genes”
I peer around the curtain. Sarah, who should be out there now, giggles and wobbles on her platforms. She’s been on the Veuve. I point her in the right direction and off she trots.
Showtime. My dresser is a rotund motherly figure who looks nothing like my own mother. Her greying hair holds a medley of spare clips on one side. A pin cushion sits on her ample bosom.
‘Have you eaten?’ she asks, her eyes locking mine.
‘You need to eat. Here.’ She offers a sandwich with a creamy mixture that smells fishy. Tuna, sweetcorn and mayo I decide, ignoring the saliva gathering in my mouth. I stare at it, then wait. Tiny little maggots, white wriggly ones appear in the oily filling. I push it away.
‘You’ll get brittle bones and never be able to have children,’ she shakes her head.
I laugh as she pulls the corset stays, tight, like she’s making a point.
My pony walk perfect, I head down the runway. Flashbulbs. My mother smiles from the first row, though not at me. She looks good, her natural skinny genes aided and abetted by Harley Street’s scalpels. The swarovski crystals on my corset glitter like a mirror ball. I am dazzled. As my mind fills with flesh eating maggots, I seek her out again. Mum? Mummy? She stands up as I fall down. The last thing I see before blackout is her white skinny jeans.
I’m going to post about me. That’s scary. I normally hide behind attempts at humour – a spoof guide to writing course attendees, or a fake guest blog by a writer’s husband. But it’s the twilight of the year and time for reflection, so perhaps you’ll indulge me.
This has been one of the worst years; probably the worst since my divorce. A tough year for many. Here’s my balance sheet.
Mum died in May.
Have hardly written a word of fiction for months.
My business died slowly (redundancies, and an office lease left hanging round my neck).
The house nearly died too and was infested with builders for twelve weeks.
Have hardly written a word of fiction for months.
I worried incessantly about the economy (my economy).
Finished second novel.
Zach started rowing at school.
When the business crashed, Jess offered to support me in writing, said she wanted to push me off the clifftop.
I got on the shortlist for the Bridport.
Have two new ideas for next novel.
Business has picked up a bit now.
My eyes are so level, I don’t even care about agent rejections – I smile when I hear the flump of an SAE landing in the hall.
To summarise a year in review: just as I had accepted my fate, resigned myself to a life as a full-time writer, stood ready to take the jump at the edge of that cliff, my work turned around. For the next few months I’m snowed. Isn’t it ironic?
The question is, should I try to write through the next few months (I don’t believe I have the muscle for it) or should I set my writing aside?
That’s why I need to lie on the bed.
When I lie on the bed ideas start flooding.
A little background: the shock of Salt offering to publish my story collection was so great that for two years I hadn't written anything longer than 500 words. I wrote 100 flash stories, which isn't terrible since quite a few were published. But the book came out a year ago and, after being focussed on selling, selling, selling, I missed working on something longer. I write flash stories in one sitting, the process is as “flash” as the product.
Finally, I wrote a 1000-word story. I was excited to have something “long” (yes, you may snicker). I was so in love with the voice and the language, I thought it was great. I gave it to my writing group for critique, they spotted places where more information was needed but didn't give any “big picture” comments. So I thought, wow, that was quick: a finished story, and swiftly dispatched it to several competitions.
Then I wrote another “long” story, a whopping 1400 words, and it felt different. It upset me to write it, and the group were extremely enthusiastic. I knew this one expressed something that had been inside me for a long time. The voice in my head said, “That other one needs work.” I ignored it. I'd sent it out, hadn't I? It was done.
Well, the first story got nowhere in two competitions. The voice said, “Told you. It's missing something.” But I didn't know what. Suddenly I saw that I'd tied the ending in neatly with the beginning, but, actually, there was no middle. And I began to realise that I had set it up to be a certain kind of story and just hadn't delivered. This is something I learned from Robert McKee's excellent guide to screenplay writing, Story. He says: Take Jaws. The setup promises that the shark and the policeman will meet. If they didn't the viewer would feel cheated. He says: Know what kind of story you are telling. If you set something up as a comedy and then it becomes a bloody crime thriller, the viewer will feel disappointed.
I'd set up my story, without knowing it, as a ghost story. But then I hadn't followed through. I'd missed the part with the ghost! I couldn't see this when I wrote it. I thought it was about families. I could only coo over it, rather than stand back and say, Hang on, wait...?
So, I deleted 500 words. I killed my baby. Then I breathed a sigh of relief because I could see clearly that half way through is where I'd let go, where I'd cheated. This week, I started writing again from the half-way point, and it went in an entirely different direction. It's now 1200 words, and not finished. Who knows where it will end up?
I'm embarassed I sent it out, not to mention annoyed about the competition fees. It won't get anywhere. It shouldn't get anywhere. It's not my writing group's fault. It's my fault for being too hasty. Time, ladies and gentlemen. Nothing beats it. Leave it in that proverbial drawer, if only for a few weeks or months, and you – and your bank account - will be very glad you did.
Tania Hershman (www.taniahershman.com) is a former science journalist now living in Bristol after spending 15 years in Jerusalem, Israel. Commended by the judges of the 2009 Orange Award for New Writers, her short story collection, The White Road and Other Stories (www.thewhiteroadandotherstories.com), is published by Salt. Her short stories have been published in print and online and broadcast on BBC Radio 4. Tania is Grand Prize winner of the Binnacle's 2009 Ultra Short Competition and European regional winner of the 2008 Commonwealth Broadcasting Association's short story competition. She is the founder and editor of The Short Review, (www.theshortreview.com), a site dedicated to reviewing short story collections. Tania blogs at TaniaWrites (www.titaniawrites.blogspot.com).
Salt Publishing would like to offer Strictly Writing readers a special 30% discount off Tania's book. If interested, go to this page: http://www.saltpublishing.com/books/smf/9781844714759.htm. Then just enter in the discount code GM18py7n.
I digress, but how on earth do those daily bloggers do it?
I mean I like being part of the Strictly crew and posting every couple of weeks on a subject that I’m interested in, and hopefully, others will find interesting too.
Belle Du Jour, may be the obvious exception to the rule, but for most of us, life just aint that titillating.
Anyhow, back to NaNo.
All was going well: word count on track, plot skipping along, structure holding up.
This week has been hit with a classic case of life getting in the way of art.
Of course, for most of us writers, this is part and parcel of the life. A contracted novel takes me a year and during those long twelve months any number of catastrophes happen that suck me away from my desk. What I normally do is make up the hours later. Like a civil servant on flexi-time, I operate a system of borrowing and pay back. True, this often requires a 24/7 commitment close to dead line, but I factor that in.
The trouble with writing, or attempting to write, a novel in a month, is that you’re already flat out with no room for manoeuvre. Buying and selling time in these circumstances is a bit like carbon trading – a great idea in principle, but we’ll still end up in the shit.
You can imagine, then, the nightmare of waking up with a stinking head cold mid week. No chance of sipping Lemsip and surfing the information on Swine Flu. Instead, shoulder to the grind stone, with a chapter to knock out. Thank God, that by Friday, the mists were clearing and I could sweep away the carpet of snotty tissues that had amassed at my feet.
By this point I was way behind, but was lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that I had the weekend ahead of me. I could, I told myself, make up the difference.
Then tragedy struck. I came downstairs and found a plethora of email in my box. Among them, a witty string of mails from the Strictly crew about a certain attractive actor. Inappropriate things were bandied about and, me being me, I couldn’t resist sending a response that I could not repeat here. Suffice it to say, it contained the words ‘dirty’, ‘vampire’ and ‘bite me’.
All a terrific hoot until I checked my sent box and discovered I had mailed it, not to the guys on Strictly, but to the parents of my son’s under 11s football squad.
I am so mortified I have spent the weekend, not writing, but alternately squirming and drinking.
The match on Sunday was cancelled, apparently due to the rain, but my mind is racing...
Today I must get back on track. I must write like the wind. And I must try not to send my children’s Headmaster a photograph of myself maked.
a ‘polemic’ about Sex and the City; specifically, on its ‘man-hating-ness’. I do like the show, though.
My family think my writing is ...
something to be proud of – especially my parents.
The best thing about writing novels is ...
telling people I write novels.
The worst thing about writing novels is
Longhand first or computer? ...
‘I’m a PC.’
When I run out of ideas I ...
have no idea.
The most frequent question/comment I get about my book is...
‘how long did it take you to write it?’ – but I don’t know whether that’s a ‘good thing’ or not.
My advice to new writers would be
Three authors (dead or alive) I'd like to invite to dinner are ...
Bret Easton Ellis, Karl Marx and Katie Price. I think that would be ‘interesting’.
My favourite writing clothes are ...
non-existent because I write nude. Ok I don’t, because that’s impossible. I actually write in anything ‘comfy’.
My favourite writing snack is ...
black coffee and a Daim bar.
The best book I've read recently is