Guest Post: Author Jane Lovering shares the secret of the "OFF" button and tells us how she finds Time To Write

People often ask me about my writing. Which is good, you know, me being a writer and all because it would be bizarre if I was, oh, I dunno, a tax inspector or something. But I’m not, so it’s fine and I like to encourage a ‘stop me and buy one’ approach to my books, so I will talk about my writing all day, since talking about it means I don’t actually have to do it.
And one of the things they most often ask me is – when do you find time to write? Well, this is the question they ask after they’ve asked if I’m a millionaire, if I know JK Rowling and if I can get them a book deal for their three page pamphlet on the history of their grandfather’s wooden leg. Since it would be churlish to walk away at this point (besides, I’ve still got a book to sell), I usually smile and answer the question – when do I find time?

Between the day job and the five kids and the two dogs and the four cats and my poor grimly-smiling husband and the dust and the laundry, I managed to turn out "Please Don’t Stop the Music" in around nine months. [And for a chance to win a copy, carry on reading to the end!].

Released Feb 2011

So, nine months of trying to keep control of my characters and their lives, when none of them are willing to confide in the others and none of them are telling the truth. That’s nine months of searching for spare time, which is tricky to find in this household, bearing in mind I still can’t find my good biro or that book of stamps I bought in March. But I managed to track it down by the simple method of never watching television.

It’s amazing how much time I used to spend, staring at the corner of the living room with my eyes open and my brain in neutral, and sometimes the set was even switched on. So, by keeping away from the moving pictures and using the time to write instead, I got my tale of Jemima and her secrets and Ben and his enigmatic hidden identity onto paper. Their story became more real to me than anything I might see on the TV and as I got more and more involved in their interactions I found that I didn’t miss watching television at all. Except, maybe Doctor Who. And Merlin. And Big Bang Theory – all right, I missed some of it.

But the freedom it gave me, not being tied to the screen (although I did sneakily iPlayer a few episodes of the above...ow, yes, all right, I watched all Doctor Who, now stop twisting my arm) meant that my book got written, not left half-finished locked in my laptop whilst I spent every evening flipping channels and moaning about that book ‘I always meant to write’.

Of course, when I typed the words ‘The End’ and looked up from my laptop, I realised that I hadn’t only stopped watching television, I’d also stopped dusting, ironing and cooking and my entire family, plus dogs, were sitting at my feet hopelessly begging for a square meal. But they’ll get over it. Eventually.
And barely had I started to watch the new series of ‘Strictly Come Dine with Me Factor’, than I felt a new book coming on...

Publishers Choc Lit are offering Strictly Writing readers the chance to win a copy of Jane's book, "Please Don't Stop The Music". All you have to do when you leave your comment is tell us who your favourite rock star is and why, and we'll announce the winner after the weekend.

Jemima Hutton is determined to build a successful new life and keep her past a dark secret. Trouble is, her jewellery business looks set to fail - until enigmatic Ben Davies offers to stock her handmade belt buckles in his guitar shop and things start looking up, on all fronts. But Ben has secrets too. When Jemima finds out he used to be the front man of hugely successful Indie rock band Willow Down, she wants to know more. Why did he desert the band on their US tour? Why is he now a semi-recluse? And the curiosity is mutual - which means that her own secret is no longer safe ...

You can find Jane here:

http://www.janelovering.co.uk/

www.twitter.com/janelovering

http://www.choclitpublishing.co.uk/

Tenacious Seeds Can Produce a Great Crop by Jean Dewitt

Writers are kind of quirky people—they work in solitude, they hope in quietude, they pour out their hearts in a world of their own creation. They give their utmost and their best, so when they finally send their 'baby' out into the world it can crush their spirit if it isn’t received with open arms!

Tenacity is a quality that every creative person needs, but especially writers. Why? Because while the artist can 'show' his or her work and receive instant feedback, the writer cannot do that. The writing process can take months and even years, so clinging firmly to one’s objective has to be a strong resolve, and believing in your work is not a luxury, but essential to survival! So the seeds of tenacity can often produce a great crop!

The poem 'Don’t Quit' has some inspiring words: “Often the goal is nearer than it seems to a faint and faltering man. Often the struggler has given up, when he might have captured the victor’s cup.” The path to success has many quitters along the way, but maybe, just maybe, they might have been winners had they positioned themselves mentally to 'hang on tight,' whether the ride is bumpy or not.

Some projects take years before someone has the vision to 'see' its potential, but that shouldn’t halt the creative flow. Just move on to another one and keep that one in the back of your mind…resurrection may still take place. After all, there is a season for all things, and timing is a reality, not a fable. Did you know that Steven King’s first book, Carrie, received 30 rejections and caused King to give up and throw it in the 'circular file?' Who knows what might have happened had his wife not fished it out of the trash and encouraged him to resubmit it?

Sometimes greatness flows from the struggle…it produces a more worthy book or piece of writing, so never regret struggling for your craft or waiting to see it acknowledged. Embrace both the highs and lows of the journey, and remember to keep tenacity as your closest friend!

Jean Dewitt is a poet, artist, songwriter, and blogger. She is bonkers about good biographies, persistent in her pursuit of learning French, and just plain weird when it comes to symmetry. She is a 'quiet' philanthropist (or 'good deed doer) according to the Wizard of Oz) who liked to make a difference in people’s lives. She enjoys too many things and wishes she could be more focused (suspicions of ADD have crossed her mind!) One of her dreams is to have a library just like Professor Henry Higgins (My Fair Lady)…ladder and all! Visit Jean's website at www.gloryjean.wordpress.com.

New year, new goals

Those new year resolutions always go out the window, don't they? Quit eating too much chocolate, start going to the gym at least twice a week, drop two dress sizes and so on. To be honest, I never bothered with them for precisely that reason. Besides, if a 'new year' resolution is worth making, it can be made when it pops into the brain, whether that be July or October.

However I'm breaking with my own (self-imposed) tradition of non-new year resolutioning, and making a few goals of my own. My first is to never buy, or to be talked into buying any sort of e-reading device, whether that be the Kindle or the Sony Reader. Sorry, the luddite in me says if I want to read a book, I want it printed on paper (apologies to the Amazon rainforest!) I do not want to read it off a screen. That's too much like sitting at a computer which equals work. I want a colourful cover which I can run my hand over, and I do not want to have to rely on an electronic device which may break down. Thanks anyway, but I'll stick to Waterstones.

My second is to read more books. Last year I managed a grand total of 12 which is poor to say the least. However there are only so many hours in the day, and juggling a job with own writing projects can be difficult. Once we get the dreaded Christmas onslaught of sleb books out of the way, I can't help but get excited at a new reading year, wondering what the publishers will throw our way. (And congratulations to you if you have a book coming in 2011!)

My third is to do something I haven't already done before. And I'm four-fifths of the way there. After much deliberation, I decided one of my unpublished novels was more 'visual' and would better serve a television audience, so I've re-written it/slashed it to pieces and plan to enter it into a screenplay competition. Wish me luck! Having previously dabbled in screen/scriptwriting at school, I decided it was time to re-live my teenage hobby (which is hopefully much improved!) I'd love to hear some of your new year writing resolutions, whether you intend to follow them through or not. Happy 2011 and may all your publishing dreams come true.

The Brain Backup

Happy New Year to all our Strictly Readers!

It's a time for resolutions and developing good new writing habits, and in a recent post I mentioned that I planned to note down all the fiction-related ideas that flit half-formed around the periphery of my mind throughout the day.

Well, I went one step further than that and, after several minutes of doing no research whatsoever, I invented the Brain Backup. It's a tiny device that plugs into the side of your head – so small that if people notice it at all they think it's just some new-fangled headphone or hearing aid. But the Brain Backup is nothing ordinary. This invention can instantly save the brilliant thought that just sprang into being.

Thoughts are fickle things. Within seconds of its glorious arrival, an idea can escape from your mind's warm embrace and skip off into the ether, leaving only an imprint that says it was there once, and it was amazing.

Ideas need to be captured in those few seconds. A notepad or voice recording device are the writer's current options, and very successful they are – if you're lucky enough to have a few moments spare (moments that could turn to hours if someone has run off with the notebook and every working pen within 500 miles). More likely, the inspiration will arrive at the point when one toddler is shouting 'I need a poopie!' while another is ascending the bookcase, or when you're behind a shop counter trying to cling to the will to live while a customer dithers over whether to buy large eggs or medium. What if it arrives during a funeral or a wedding, and chuckling to yourself while you whip out a notepad is not quite the done thing?

The Brain Backup is always with you because it's embedded in your head by... er... some kind of process – I'm a bit hazy on this part but I'm sure it'll be fine. As soon as that brilliant idea manifests itself, you touch the device and the thought is saved, to be wirelessly downloaded to the computer at your leisure. 

I have always hoped that if something is so important to my novel, then of course I will remember it, but oh, no! I find that the even the most vital ideas are crowded out by the demands of everyday life before they can properly take root. My invention might need a bit more work – the brain surgery aspect, for example – but soon I'll have a way of capturing every thought from 'this book will be a three-volume dystopian epic satirising the Otherness of imperfection in contemporary society,' to 'Fred scratches his arse – v. important later!!'

As for the term Brain Backup – that's just a working title for now. I thought of an excellent product name last night just as I was about to go to sleep, but... you know how it is.

The Strictly Writing Award Shortlisted Story for December - A Little Bit of Soul by Gavin Wilson

Congratulations to Gavin Wilson, whose story is now on the shortlist for the Strictly Writing Award. 

There is only one more month left of the competition, so if you haven't entered yet, give it a go! Details of how to submit your story are available here.

A LITTLE BIT OF SOUL

by

GAVIN WILSON

It is a winter month but I don’t feel the cold that whistles through the house sending dust spiralling in darting, dancing gusts as I stand looking down at the woman lying in her bed. Her eyes are closed now, the faint traces of a lingering smile on her face. Whether this is due to a last happy dream or the beginnings of rigor mortis I wouldn’t know: I would love to say the former.

Cause of death hypothermia. The poor old girl had lived on her own since her husband passed, with no kids to come and visit. Her guilty pleasure had been the odd game of bingo but after her hip had gone the random weekly draw had drawn to a close when she couldn’t get around as much. Only the weekly visits from her friends at the church had carried on to give her something to look forward to.

As I turn to leave I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror: the raven black I think looks good on me, stylish perhaps in a Presbyterian way, but the collar is always too tight, a reminder perhaps of my servitude. I glance back at the old lady. She at least has gone to a better place now. The prayer for the dead has been said, her immortal soul has left its mortal body. Case closed.

Next job, so soon; ah well, no rest for the wicked. A young driver has stolen a car and I give chase. He’s driving like a maniac swerving in and out of the traffic; at any point he could lose control. I always wonder why some people do this, what thrills they get from driving this quickly.

It happens fast; the front tire blows and the car slides sideways briefly before it flips. A cacophony of tormented metal and glass spins and rolls in balletic carnage before it ends on its roof, golden sparks shooting out across the road like a firework as the steel grinds across the asphalt leaving a bloody smear behind it.

Mercifully quick…. one easy job; death by driving!

I’ve been watching this one for a while now, but I have time. The man in the smart suit has spent some time looking out over the city, clinging to the tall chimney, tears streaming down his cheeks; for what reason I don’t know.

He’s stepped closer to the edge, looking down. From this height the fall would certainly kill him.

I understand the desire to end, but why this way?

I approach him and he turns around still crying. I have no words for him, nothing that will take away his pain or make him feel better.

He jumps. Maybe he will land in a friendly place.

It’s morning now for some people, but what does it matter? I enter a grocery store: the shop keeper is being held up by a masked man holding him at gun point. I stop and watch but no one notices me, intent on their own predicaments and petty crimes.

“Where is the safe?” The masked man yells.

The shop keeper stays quiet.

“I will blow your head off old man.”

The shop keeper goes for the bat under the counter.

Bang!

The masked man dashes past me and I walk around to the other side of the counter.

A pool of blood is flowing in viscous finality across the floor, the old shop keeper left staring blankly up at the ceiling with his one remaining eye.

There is little I can do other than watch and wait as he takes his final breath.

Murder: it happens and always will.

    

I need a break but it doesn’t seem like I’m going to get one anytime soon. I sit in the chair looking at the old woman lying in the hospital bed. Her husband sits beside her holding her hand.

Bashed over the head because she wouldn’t hand over her purse; it only had a picture of her dead son and a small amount of money. Was it really worth holding on to it? To her, it was.

The heart monitor flat-lines and her husband looks up in disbelief. She can’t be dying; it was just a bash on the head. Medical staff rush into the room and they try their hardest to resuscitate her but to no avail.

In the quiet and lonely aftermath I walk to the side of her bed. Her soul eyes open and she smiles at me. It's not often that happens: I place my hand on her hers and smile back.

“I always wondered,” she says, the ghosts of her words whispering into my ears. “You look a little different to how I thought you would.”

“Are you ready to go?” I ask.

As she nods, I sever her soul from its mortal cage and stopping only to brush a kiss across the cheek of her grief exhausted husband, she rises to the glow above her.

Another day: another death. The prayer for the dead has been said, the soul has left the body. Rest in peace.

When will it be my turn to rest?

I am different now, so different from the being I used to be. I have been known by so many different names. Gone is the scythe and flowing cloak, the gloom and skeletal form.

The mirror never lies. A man to those of you who see: dressed in raven black. Tie, suit, shoes, shirt: although the collar of the shirt is always too tight for some reason. Tall, distinguished and calm, the silver scissors that sever secreted in a jacket pocket. No scythe to terrorise with apocalyptic dread.

Not yet.

Only when the fires fall from the sky and the dead rise will I truly know an end. That will not happen yet, so I continue endlessly. While you believe, I endure. I long for the sanctity of death; an end, but that cannot happen while you are all still here believing and dreaming of your sad little ends. Your sad demises mean little to me.

One day I will know rest, but until then I will be there at every cessation of life. If you see me, you will know me.

For I am Death.

It will be my pleasure to meet you. 

My best books of 2010

The three men in my life were playing football and I was walking the dog through one of north London’s loveliest parks, enjoying the crump crump of my boots through the brittle snow. I’m usually either plugged into my iPod or refeering some random violence and bloodshed between my children, so it was a nice change just to walk and think...

And I decided to think about the books I’ve enjoyed the most in 2010.
If you can indulge me, I wanted to share this list with you, dear Strictly readers. I’d love to know if any of you agree... or even better, hotly disagree. The list is divided into five adult books and five children’s/YA. Here goes:

Adult

Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese
I first heard about this on the brilliant Books on the Nightstand podcast. It’s the story of brothers Marion and Shiva, born in a mission hospital in Ethiopa in the 1950s to a nun and a surgeon. The boys are very different characters, despite being born as conjoined twins and their lives play out against the backdrop of Ethiopia’s history, and an immigrant’s experience of America. It’s the kind of book that leaves you feeling bereaved when you finish reading it.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett
Our very own Gillian did a whole post about this recently, so I will leave you in her capable hands. Absolutely unputdownable and a masterclass in voice.

Rapture by Liz Jensen
Post traumatic shock syndrome, disability, the challenges of teenage mental health and global warming are just some of the themes in this stunning and original thriller.

The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas
A sometimes uncomfortable read, this showed a side to Australia that you don’t see on Home and Away. Brilliantly written, it tells the story of the consequences arising from a man slapping another couple’s unruly child at a neighbourhood barbecue and how racism and misogyny lurk under the veneer of family life.

Children’s/YA

The Glass Demon by Helen Grant
I’m still shivering after reading this, but in an entirely good way. Teenager Lin moves to a quiet part of Germany where many bad things lurk in the woods. People keep dying and each time, broken glass is found nearby. Could it be the infamous glass demon? A spooky, atmospheric chiller.

Swapped by a Kiss by Luisa Plaja
A book that had an entirely opposite effect, bathing you in warmth and humour from page one. Sequel to the highly successful Split by a Kiss, it shows that being in another person’s shoe’s is a lot more complicated than you might think. Full disclosure here: Luisa is a good friend. But this book would be in the list regardless because it makes me smile just to think about it.

Uglies trilogy by Scott Westerfield
Okay, so this is three books, but they were so brilliant, they have to count as one. Set in a future where everyone is made ‘pretty’ at seventeen, these books are among the very best of dystopian YA fiction.

Almost True by Keren David
I thoroughly enjoyed When I was Joe, which told the story of Ty, a boy forced to go into a witness protection programme after witnessing a murder. But I think I liked this sequel even more. I’ve heard there’s going to be a third. Can’t wait...

White Crow by Marcus Sedgwick
Dark as the bitterest chocolate, this is the gothic tale of a twisted friendship between two teenage girls in a blistering summer on the edge of East Anglia, where half the village has been reclaimed by the sea. Woven in is the story of a gruesome 17th experiment designed to test whether the afterlife really exists. This book stays with you long after you’ve finished the final page...

So there we are. I’d love to know what people think about this list. And what are your best reads of 2010?

Pass The Nuts

This will be a very short post from the coal face of post-Christmas lethargy.

Here at Casa Black, we take the whole issue of feasting very seriously.

We begin with a glass of something with bubbles - and no, I don't mean Radox - at noon on Christmas Day and we continue until Hercule Poirot says that we must go to bed.

Boxing Day begins with a long walk but soon gives way to a buffet of grand proportions that lasts aproximately ten hours or until the last guest expires.

No doubt some of you writers out there are already pushing aside the cobwebs and making plans to sub your WIP to a list of your most prefered agents.
My advice is don't.
They are all at home eating Quality Street.

So give yourself a rest. Pour another glass. James Bond starts in ten minutes.