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Making it up as I go along

Making it up as I go along

Monthly Archives: March 2017

Writing & reading the magic

26 Sunday Mar 2017

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Extract, Ghostbird, Writing

Island Life, Word Birds & Process

Received wisdom has it we ought to write about what we know. Perhaps. Then again, I know a lot about shoes & cake but other than the odd aside, have no desire to write stories about either of these things.

I think it’s less about writing what we know & more about writing the kind of stories we want to read. The books I’m drawn to are the ones in which enchantment glances off the shoulder of reality; where authentic moments of wonder can make me believe in the possibility of magic. I’m not talking about the kind that comes wearing a pointy hat or casting a spell. Real magic isn’t only in the Mystery, it’s in the everyday, in the small things we often miss because we’re too busy to notice. It’s in relationships & families, in joy, sadness & silence. Magic keeps secrets, it’s old & wise & if we want it we have to listen for it. If we need it, it will hear us.

Towards the end of Ghostbird, my central character, Cadi Hopkins, listens hard. She has little choice. Unless she trusts, the past can’t be forgiven or healed. She’s young & inexperienced but she’s brave & the granddaughter of a witchwoman.

When a girl of fourteen has longed for something for most of her life, when the sense of it clings like dust to the edge of every waking thought, it’s possible old magic will hear her.

Who knows what’s real? I only ever ask my reader to believe in the possibility that a suspension of her disbelief might be worth the gamble. And when I pick up a book in which the author suggests magic might be afoot, I approach it in the same way.

Toni Morrison said it most elegantly.

tm

Happy reading, wherever the magic takes you.

Coming out…

19 Sunday Mar 2017

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

Author, IWD, Public speaking

Island Life, Word Birds & Process

Don’t get too excited, dear reader – my private life is no one’s business but mine…

The closet – if closet there be – is the one where my ‘author’ self has been hiding. Author as opposed to writer: I get called ‘author’ all the time & yet I struggle with the ‘A’ word, unsure at which point one is entitled to own it. Like most published writers I have an ‘author’ page on Facebook; the web address for this blog identifies me as one. This is usefully semantic – I’m talking about a definition far less tangible & considerably more emotional.

An author to me is a writer with several books under her belt. She has gravitas & a following; she gets invited to literary events & conferences. An author participates on panels & gets asked to endorse other writers’ books. She has a sense of herself as a step further along the writing road, with fans perhaps (& no overdraft…)

When Honno took me on, I was asked what kind of publicity events I would be prepared to take part in. I said anything other than physical public appearances. (Radio was fine – no one could see me on the radio.) What with one thing & another, since the launch of Ghostbird when I read in front of a gentle audience of family & friends, without me noticing, I’ve been creating a small physical presence. At my first book fair I read to another audience, potentially terrifying as a Q & A was part of the deal. Lovely people asked great questions & I found myself answering with a confidence I didn’t realise I possessed.

I’ve discovered I enjoy reading out loud from my book. Book fairs are fun & readers are fabulous people. I’m still a writer though – reading from the book I wrote…

At an International Women’s Day event hosted by Honno & WEN I took part in my first panel. Juliet Greenwood, my sister Honno author (three books, dear reader so yes – author!) in a generous attempt at calming my nerves said a certain mystique attaches itself to writers. She didn’t mean it in an ‘Oh my, aren’t we all amazing!’ kind of way – she was talking about the fact that non-writers (& would be) are quietly impressed by those of us who have published a book. As someone who spent most of her life in awe of authors, Juliet’s words had a ring of truth. Still not convinced, & frankly shaking in my boots, in front of my first relatively big audience I looked up & saw a sea of engaged smiles & genuine interest. I relaxed & it was easy. Afterwards, another first was being approached as an author. At that moment, I knew exactly what Juliet meant.

Honno 11
With Juliet Greenwood.

Yesterday I confirmed an invitation to speak at a conference in Wales, to a much larger audience. In my capacity as ‘Welsh Author’ I shall be speaking for 45 minutes & taking questions. I’m terrified (I’ll always be ‘terrified’ in theory) but I’m also okay because I’m coming out as an author & it’s not as scary as I once imagined it would be.

Writers who get published aren’t special – we’re just people who’ve written & published books. If what we write pleases, perhaps we ought to leave it to our readers to decide what to call us & be gracious when they tell us we’re authors.

(And that other thing? The one about authors being asked to endorse other authors’ books? I’ve done that too – see Su Bristow’s glorious book, Sealskin.)

Out & proud!

Notes in the margins…

12 Sunday Mar 2017

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

IWD, Public speaking, Technology, Writing

Island Life, word Birds & Process

As I write this blog primarily for myself, it doesn’t matter if I miss a week or even if what I write is relevant to anyone else. Last week, buoyed by early morning words concerning ducks in rows, myriad notes & plot particulars, I was quickly brought back to earth by Monitorgate.

Is there anything more disheartening to a writer than a dead screen?

There’s only so much I can write by hand: notes are not necessarily narrative (not the random way I write at any rate.) After a couple of hours, everything I could do by hand was done. I needed access & access was denied: the World of Word[s] was closed to me…

The blessed Janey turned up the following day with a spare monitor but after a day spent in limbo I realised how different the world of writing has become. I’m a relative latecomer to computers having bought my first PC in 2006. Against all expectations it changed the way I wrote forever. (I was brought up on typewriters; I tried an electronic one (awful) & soon graduated to a word processor which I loved.) The PC was a revelation & I soon cottoned on to its magic. I loved the convenience & the tricks: cut & paste without the glue & scissors! (Spellchecking without a cauldron or a wand in sight.)

I didn’t entirely leave behind the world of paper. I require the physical feel of it, the smell of pencil shavings. I still write copious notes; scenes & the outline of chapters by hand, mostly in bed in the early morning. Grey & occasionally smudged to ghostliness, they are notes in my margins so to speak, essential to my story & my process.

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But there comes a point when nothing moves on unless I’m slotting said notes into my on-screen narrative. A paragraph placed between the lines –  click  – another shifted to an alternative page – click – another deleted – click… Effortless & quick – you get the picture. And the bonus is a visibly increasing wordcount making me feel unutterably smug & virtuous.

In other news, the International Women’s Day event I attended as part of a Honno panel was exactly what I needed to rid myself of Public Panel Paranoia. It was the audience that did it – a sea of smiling, engaged faces, soaking up the nerves & making it OKAY.

I love women…

My novels

Wild Spinning Girls
Wild Spinning Girls
Snow Sisters
Snow Sisters
Ghostbird
Ghostbird
Only May
Only May
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