Tag Archives: Writing

The place in between

02 Sunday Oct 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Island Life, Word Birds & Process #22

Waking early to a perfect Island Life scenario. Mist made of a million feathers, a sense of the Avalon barge, perhaps offering me a lift to the Isle of Apples. While my bath runs, I reread a handwritten letter from a friend & I’m reminded of what matters. Family, love, kindness.

Moments such as these stop me in my tracks. Gazing across the misty hill, I add writing to the list.

With another book fair behind me I confess myself – yet again – a reluctant self-promoter. I know it must be done & fair play, I do it quite well. It’s part of the process. I am indebted to Honno, my publisher; a bit of social media is the least I can do.

It was grand to be with other writers at the book fair, with readers who kindly bought my book.

img-20161001-00392-copy

And yet, today I’m experiencing relief because the next one isn’t until December.

The place in between stretches, uncluttered, silent save for the sound of the birds. I have need of them. To my astonishment, I’ve made it through the first half of the first round of structural edits on Book 2. It’s the second half that will test me however. It involves big changes. Good changes (I hope.) I must dig deep & put into practice the wisdom of my editor.

September is my favourite month. A new moon is emerging. My pencils are sharp. I’ve organised Premium bird seed & meal worms…

Onward & sideways.

In plain sight

11 Sunday Sep 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Island Life, Word Birds & Process #20

One or two kind people, when reviewing Ghostbird, have commented on my portrayal of same-sex relationships.

‘…Lili falls in love with another woman … and that’s it: it isn’t swept under the carpet nor does it take over the narrative, it’s just one of the many elements in the novel’s tapestry, treated as completely normal, and it’s beautiful…’ Carolyn Percy

The fact that some reviewers have noted my handling of a lesbian relationship errs on the notional is gratifying. Equally, that so few have remarked on it at all is testament to my intention.

When I began writing the book, I hadn’t consciously decided Lili would be gay. I’m not sure when I did make the decision. Like so many women in my life, she just is. Lili is gay the same way some people are straight. Don’t quote me on this, but my guess is the world is teeming with lesbians. They’ve been around for as long as women’s stories have been told. Often hidden, invariably in plain sight.

l-5

Lesbians, dear reader, are everywhere.

As I wrote the story, it occurred to me that unconscious or not, writing a gay character afforded me the opportunity to ‘normalise’ her. As in, not make a big thing about it. Rather than explain her, simply write her, the way I was writing my other characters. (I didn’t feel the need to explain how Violet or Mrs Guto-Evans  were heterosexual.)

I’m doing it again in my new story. And I’m not explaining it.

You have to write something, don’t you?

24 Sunday Jul 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

Island Life, Word Birds & Process # 14

One upon a time I wrote a story with the working title RiverBook. I began writing it before I got the deal for Ghostbird intending it to be my next book. Once it was done (by which time, Ghostbird had been accepted) I put it away and concentrated on the process of being published. But still, in between the edits, copy edits and general excitement, you have to write something, don’t you? Out of somewhere, I got the idea for SisterBook. It kept me occupied and would be my third book (assuming I even got a look in for a second.)

By the time Ghostbird was published, I realised Sisters was likely to be a better bet as a follow-up so River was virtually banished. Sisters is now finished and submitted and I’m back to square one. While I await my fate, what do I write? Got to write something etc… Out came River and with the benefit of distance I immediately realised it was wrong. It had something but it wasn’t right. Too complex – my default setting – for one thing.

One of the best aspects about writing Ghostbird was having a myth to hang my story on. A mise an abîme I could return to that kept me connected. (Sisters doesn’t have a myth – it’s a different kind of haunting.) River – to say the least – as it stood was a muddle of mythology. And therein lay my problem. Out of an over-indulgence in research I’d created a mini-monster. I wanted another legend but I wanted a simple one.

Lying in my bath about a fortnight ago, I worked it out. In the absence of a known myth, why not create my own?

Myths and legends evolve out of unconscious processes in the oral tradition. There is rarely any historical evidence for their veracity but the repeated telling of them renders them charismatic and ‘true’ and for our ancestors they became part of the collective psyche. And like religion or any spiritual path, myths have their roots in our human desire for a rationale: a cornerstone patterned with symbolism to hook our frailties and fears on. We create them out of imagination and random moments of connection to the natural world.

In other words, they’re all made up. There is no rule to gainsay this. We can all be the author of our own mythology.

Before I get too cosmic for my own good, here’s the point. I’ve made up a myth of my own and in doing so, now know exactly what RiverBook is about. Well, you have to write something, don’t you?

undine3_beautiful_girl (1)

Milestones

18 Monday Jul 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , ,

Island Life, Word Birds & process #13

Yesterday I embraced two milestones. It was four months since Ghostbird was published and I submitted the third draft of my new story to my editor. The reasons I failed to mark the day here (as my Sunday blog post) are also two-fold: I was finalising said draft and then attending another splendid workshop under the auspices of Honno – my publisher.

Regarding the first – let the nail-biting commence.

The second part of the day  involved one of the most useful workshops I’ve been to in a while. Led by Katherine Stansfield (author of The Visitor & a poetry collection  called Playing House) it focused on editing. At this stage in my own process, timely to say the least. Having been through it once, as the workshop progressed I realised it was less about learning anything new (although I absolutely did!) and more about affirmation. Recognising that the way I’ve been doing things is pretty much okay, because there is no ‘right’ way.

There are however a number of useful guidelines which as a writer I have learned I would be a fool to ignore. Not least, if you have a good editor, listen to her.

Even before I properly understood what copy edits or line edits were, I knew what kind of a self-editor I was. (Those of you familiar with this blog know too: I ‘edit-as-I-go’ and #pfft frankly!) In the first instance, each writer has to take a great deal of responsibility for her own editing process. And if she is fortunate enough to have a generous editor on her side, it makes the experience one of discovery and learning. So it proved for me throughout the superb editing of Ghostbird. My fledgling story emerged – a small bird with her wings fluffed up, ready to fly.

Yesterday, Katherine’s major gift to us was her generosity. It takes a brave author to expose the more daunting aspects of her road to publication in order to illustrate a workshop. Although her third book has now been accepted by a well-known house, it hasn’t been an easy road. She shared the ups and downs (including scary emails from her agent!) and gave us the nuts and bolts of her process.

I recognised a lot of what Katherine shared. This is the other strand of the affirmation. Knowing the slog is worth it and throughout the editing process, from pitch to publication as it were, most writers have similar experiences.

Your Moment of Cliché: It’s hard work, but it’s worth it.

Huge thanks to Katherine and as ever to Honno – the Welsh Women’s Press.

woman-writing-vintage

Second drafting

26 Sunday Jun 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

, , ,

Island Life, Word Birds & Process #10

Writing a book – if you can pull it off – is a pretty cool trick. It happens however in layers and conjuring a second draft is part of the enchantment. It’s when the writer searches for the missing part of the spell that makes the whole thing work.

I’m here to tell you, in my case, there is no trickery. Too many of the words aren’t even there.

My tendency to edit as I go is a trait in myself I’ve settled for. Over the years I’ve tried to resist but it’s no good and that’s how it is. It does mean I’m inclined to take out rather a lot on the way. In the process I leave holes, and sometimes miss opportunities or connections.

Having killed a fair number of my darlings – before they even had time to plead extenuating circumstances – I’m now filling the spaces in between. Summoning the missing words in the hope my reader will assume they were there from the beginning.

Annex - Harlow, Jean_62

I’m taking my time with this second draft and enjoying the experience. Be that as it may, the question remains – the one that vexes all writers at this stage: how do we edit our work and know what’s good and what’s rubbish?

We do our best is the answer. Plug away, learn from our previous efforts and thank our lucky stars if we are fortunate enough to have a great editor. Someone we can hand the whole thing over to when it’s done.

Begin at the beginning … again…

12 Sunday Jun 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

Island Life, Word Birds & Process #8

In summer, mist is a vaguer, less assertive thing than its winter sister. Having little resistance to the sun it burns off quickly. And in the sun’s absence, this lethargic heat will do it. Summer mist is short-lived but no less lovely.

You do have to get up early to catch it.

This morning I was. With only one remaining chapter left to write, I joined the birds and they, bless them, flung the final words my way.

The first draft of my SisterBook is done!

Davide Benati - Frangipane, 1989 - Copy

I’ve already begun a new pass. Because I edit as I go, the earlier parts of the story in particular are in reasonable shape. I do expect to be challenged once I near the final third.

What larks though! Another story down, another milestone reached: the ‘difficult second novel’ written.

Go me.

Dealing in truth

05 Sunday Jun 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Island Life, Word Birds & Process #7

It’s always about the process. I fear I may be in danger of overusing the word but the fact remains, it is. Any writer will tell you this. We put one foot in front of the other and follow the breadcrumbs.

Since my last post I’ve recovered my sense of proportion and more importantly, worked out whose story it is I’m writing. (Thank you, Terri-Lynne DeFino for pointing out that the person whose voice begins the story is usually the one who owns it.)

My ‘Sister’ book is another ghost story, albeit a much darker one than Ghostbird. (This ghost is angrier. She has an agenda and she deals in truth.) As do I, and once again find I’m writing about the nature of loss and redemption. These themes intrigue me, not least because they continue to shape me as a person. The various ways that women in particular deal with loss – and recover from it and find their voices – have long informed my writing.

In my prose passages I continue to weave spells. (My editor will almost certainly home in on an excess of ‘lovely’ and point me in the direction of my ‘Dead Darlings’ file. It’s why I need her.) My word spells may run away with themselves and occasionally need culling; they are still my preferred vehicle to tell my stories.

But regardless of whether or not she believes in magic per se, what I write has to feel accessible to my reader. I do my best. The magic I conjure is the kind that exists in the hesitation of twilight or a quiet dawn made soft by a lingering mist.

It hints at possibility.

Phone a friend?

29 Sunday May 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Island Life, Word Birds & Process #6

After a couple of days of thunderbolts and lightning (not even remotely frightening – I love thunderstorms) today dawned mist-draped and gentle. It was silly o’clock and the enclosed, slightly secretive morning felt perfect. I was ready to write. It’s been this way for a week or two now and the result is I’m approaching the home straight, if not at a gallop then certainly at a gentle canter. (Were it not for the ‘Edit As You Go’ gene, this first draft would probably be finished.)

The problem is I’m unsure whose story I’m writing. I have two definite and four possible candidates, and it’s a potential minefield. Having recently published a book with a clear central character, I’m now faced with two distinct voices, each with a stake in the story, and another couple clamouring for attention.

I may be over-thinking it – every star needs a supporting cast and sometimes a double act works fine. The writer just has to insist that the understudies know their place. This would normally not be a problem. Unfortunately I fear it’s my own fault and serves me right for creating the monster that is a Narcissistic Mother. She really is a ruddy nightmare.

As for the ghost…

Phone a friend is what contestants on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? used to do, when they didn’t have a clue.

I think I need to call my editor.

A sense of an ending

15 Sunday May 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, ,

Island Life, Word Birds & Process #5

By nature I’m a lark. I go to bed early, get up early & I’m rarely out after dark without a note from my mother. I’m known for my early starts. After tea & a read – maybe some hand-written notes – I attend to the chores, write my daily Letter to America, see to anything urgent in my inbox, take a peek at Facebook & begin work around ten o’clock.

Over the past week, instead, I’ve been at my desk around seven o’clock. Still in my PJs & with only the tea drunk, the book read & the cat fed, I’ve ignored everything else and written my heart out. I have no idea why, only that I’ve been waking up excited & single-minded & the result is a huge number of words.

It’s a double-edged sword mind. I’ve reached the tricky third quarter of the tricky second book. I’m aware of sag & clutter, of wandering off on extraneous tangents. It’s highly likely the thing is rubbish & I’m deluding myself it’s going to work. I know a lot of writers give up at this point, abandon the story & begin a new one. It smacks too much of the revolving door to me. And I know the ending, even though it isn’t in sight. I’m in too deep to give up and start again.

At least I can sense it, which is an improvement on a week ago.

press-wyeth

 

In medias res: Island Life #4

08 Sunday May 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

I’m no Latin scholar – far from it; I studied at St Trinians. I remember this particular snippet because I spotted it in The Children’s Book the first time I read it. Dame Antonia’s* central character – a writer – says she always leaves her writing in medias res, which translates as ‘into the middle of things.’ In the context of the scene, the character has been interrupted but is happy to leave her work in mid-air. She likes it that way.

This has never appealed to me. In the same way I prefer to mark a book I’m reading at the end of a chapter or page break, when I finish writing for the day I try to leave my work at the end of a scene with the prospect of a ‘new’ beginning to get me going when I return.

Yet, until it’s done, I’m always in the middle of things. I drop in and out, tap-dance on the tightrope, follow the word birds and try to keep up with my characters.

In respect of my current story, the more literal meaning of in medias res has a certain if not actual resonance. The book has its fair share of backstory, three time-frames and a non-linear narrative. And I’m not a linear writer; I regularly find myself diving in, uncertain where I’m meant to be going.

Part of me questions why I’m using a lost, ironic language to make a fairly small point. Latin is simple to pronounce and often needs only common-sense to work out the meaning. At the same time it’s full of obscurities and contradictions. It’s also fun – not least when you don’t really know what you’re talking about but enjoy playing with motifs and devices.

A bit like writing.

*A S Byatt

girl with bird