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Making it up as I go along

Making it up as I go along

Tag Archives: Writing

Island Life, Words Birds & Process #1

17 Sunday Apr 2016

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Aerie, Ghostbird, Island Life, Ivy, Journaling, Publicity, SisterBook, Writing

In the recently created publicity blurb about me it says I have been blogging for nine years. To an extent, this is true although it depends on how you define blogging. For many years I did indeed chronicle my thoughts about writing and the process I followed during the writing of Ghostbird – up to & including getting the publishing deal. I used Live Journal (& even called what I did ‘journaling’ because I thought then & still think, ‘blog’ is an ugly word.) I wrote the thing entirely for myself & although eventually I gathered a small group of ‘followers’ only a very few of them were serious about writing.

When I got the book deal I decided to leave LJ. It had become a desert anyway and no longer served my purpose – which I thought was to have a more public profile. No one had heard of LJ so I moved to WordPress. I still don’t have a public profile! No matter. I have a presence on Twitter & Facebook & in terms of promoting the book, both serve me well.

I do however miss the old days when I recorded my writing process & I’ve decided to reinstate this. Not daily – I no longer have the time – rather I’m going to aim for a weekly effort and see how that works. As I embark on my second book, the process once again fascinates me & I feel a need to write it down.

The view from my study – a place I have come to call my ‘aerie’ – is regularly shrouded in mist. There is a sense of quiet isolation on these mornings; a feeling of being surrounded not only by mist but by the possibility of creative magic: the Avalon barge might appear & offer me a lift to the Isle of Apples where I could sit by the banks of a lake, listening for the words birds, conjuring word spells.

As a result, over the years I got into the habit of tagging many of my LJ entries: ‘Island Life.’ I even had a little icon (LJ likes icons): mist & mystery with added birds.

Mist with birds

I shall then be calling these Sunday offerings, Island Life, Word Birds & Process.

As a starting point, here’s a thought. One of the first readers of Ghostbird – when it was called something else – has read the opening few chapters of my current WIP. This woman is neither a writer nor an editor. She is however an acute observer with an eye for nuance & what lies beneath. And she has memories of her own life & childhood which she often shares with me. This morning she offered me her thoughts about the pages I sent & then went off on a related tangent. And that is when the magic happened. My friend has conjured pictures I can use, from life rather than her imagination. And they are a writer’s dream.

This morning there is no mist – only a gentle, pale blue sky & a sun the colour of buttermilk. I’m off to a writing workshop in a while & we shall be ‘doing dialogue.’ I need to do dialogue – it’s my bête noir so this workshop will be good for me. When I get back to my WIP (my SisterBook as I have nicknamed it) I shall reach for my friend’s imagination & with her permission, ransack her childhood.

Onward & sideways.

ps: This: Local paper (Cambrian News.) Famous for fifteen seconds?

me C News

‘And then, not expecting it…

10 Sunday Apr 2016

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Age, Ghostbird, Quotations, Reviews, Writing

… you become middle-aged and anonymous.
No one notices you.
You achieve
a wonderful freedom.’

This is a quote from Doris Lessing. A literary icon.

Doris Lessing

Her words have, for many years, resonated with me. I’ve liked the idea of being middle-aged and relatively anonymous – free to do as I like; invisible because I choose to be rather than because patriarchy insists. I don’t care for patriarchy and tend to ignore it. Not least when it tells me I’m now old therefore I don’t count. I am not, I tell it, old. I am older.

And at the age I am, I find myself a published author and unexpectedly in the limelight. Not the brilliance of the literati limelight – mine is of a lower wattage and tastefully shaded. But more visible I most certainly am. People I don’t know tell me they love my book and write wonderful reviews of it. (I have ten 5* Amazon ones now. And more besides, elsewhere.) For The Golden Notebook – Doris Lessing’s 1960s landmark masterpiece of literature – there are 75. This tells you more about Amazon than it does about Doris Lessing.

The point is, I am becoming known, albeit in a small way. My innate desire to remain anonymous is having to suck it up. New, young Ghostbird is flying high and having the time of both our lives, regardless of the difference in our ages. Being published was a moment of affirmation and cannot be adequately quantified or even described. I’ve tried and failed. I grin and tell people, ‘It’s amazing!’ Because it is and I am delighted by my little book and the responses to it.

The other night I went outside looking for stars. It was a perfect night and I found streams of them stretched across the sky, tracing starwords I could translate into anything I wanted. I decided a trail of them said, ‘Ghostbird’ and smiled. Yes, why not – it was my sky and my magic and I could make the starwords into anything I chose.

I came in from under the stars and found they were still there. Lying on my bed with my eyes tight closed I could see them, attached like a green, glowing constellation to my bedroom ceiling, and I was a child again.

 

The spaces in between

18 Thursday Feb 2016

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Ghostbird, Honno, Not Writing, Promotion, Word Birds, Writing

I talk quite a bit about ‘not writing.’ I don’t mean writers block – I’m either writing or I’m not – there is no blockage. I mean the times when for one reason or another, the head is distracted and there is little or nothing to be done about it. In recent weeks, with my focus almost entirely on promotion for Ghostbird, I find my writing time severely curtailed and my poor Sisters (working title – book two) languishing in a kind of creative limbo.

It goes, I am learning, with the territory. Published author friends warned me that once the book deal was signed my word count would suffer. They explained how necessary it was to enjoy myself because this ‘first time’ moment would never come again. What they didn’t fully explain was how much more than mere ‘happy dancing’ would be involved. How I would have so little time to work on my next book.

I am fortunate in that I’m being guided through the promotional minefield by an experienced and astute woman – my publisher’s marketing maven. Were it not for her, I would be floundering. Instead, I’m making progress and learning a lot along the way. In addition to the minutiae and nitty-gritty (and the excitement!) of the whole pitch to publication thing, there are guest posts to write for the blog tour and Q&As to answer. Although I love the creative challenge of this kind of writing, it’s not the same as getting on with my next story.

While I muddle through during the day and attend to business, I’m even more thankful for my crack of dawn mornings. By nature (and in spite of writing a book featuring an owl) I’m a lark. Early mornings suit me; I like the way they have no expectations, only the ones I impose. And I impose nothing. I feed the cat, make a pot of tea and return to my bed and my notebook.

These then are the spaces in between, when my mind is seduced by the sweet word birds singing snippets into the tangles of my bed hair. Pencil sharpened, I cover page after page, comforted by the knowledge that my scribbled words are there, waiting for me.

‘The author is the name on the books. I’m the other one.’ *

22 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Author vs Writer, Quotations, Storyteller, Writing

Some kind person called me an author the other day and it felt decidedly odd. I’m a writer although more often than not I call myself a storyteller.

Writing is what I do, not ‘authoring.’ (Which must however be a thing otherwise spellcheck would have told me off.) Author is a construct, a passing conceit which I’m not altogether sure I understand. Writer is authentic. It describes a physical act made of pencil shavings and the tapping of a keyboard.

The idea that anyone would refer to me as an ‘author’ is genuinely bewildering. But maybe all writers have an alter-ego and once they get a publishing deal, that’s who it is. The Author – all fancy frock and no knickers vying for her place alongside the writer in her PJs.

I’m writing another book now. Back to the beginning, slightly more visible but nevertheless, on draft zero with only an idea and a hunger to do it all again. There can be no expectation, which makes it slightly scary. Maybe I do need a bit of  ‘author me’ if only to buoy my confidence.

And there’s a nice paradox here, which the discerning amongst you will have spotted. Who wrote this – the author or the writer?

I’m the storyteller.

Are you sitting comfortably?

*Margaret Atwood

In which the itch to write returns & I guiltily mourn the decline of the servant class

29 Tuesday Sep 2015

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Books, Editing, Ghostbird, Muse, Not Writing, Quotations, Virginia Woolf, Writers, Writing

It is a fact universally acknowledged that a man in possession of a completed novel has either a wife or a maid. I have neither. I am a woman who lives alone (by choice – I’m not sad or anything.) And in any case, even if I could afford one, my socialist inclinations make me feel slightly guilty at the idea of employing another woman to do my housework.

I am also a woman who has a love-hate relationship with procrastination.

Recent events have kept me from my writing. The timing was interesting. I’m waiting for my Editorial Notes (please forgive caps – still excited and can hardly believe I’m even due any.) With draft zero Book 2 tucked away for the duration I was at a bit of a loose end anyway. I had my notes for Book 3 to play with and an unexpected trip to Cornwall to visit my family fitted very nicely thank you.

I’ve been back for two weeks now and once again, the Muse nags. The other day I dipped into The Hours by Michael Cunningham and a scene near the beginning where Mrs Woolf (for it is she) takes herself downstairs in the early, seductive writing hour, helps herself to coffee and proceeds in the direction of her study via the printing room. Leonard (already at his proofs) waylays her.

“Have you had breakfast?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
“I’m having coffee with cream for breakfast. It’s enough.”
“It’s far from enough. I’m going to have Nelly bring you a bun and some fruit.”
“If you send Nelly in to interrupt me I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

And this, dear reader, is where Mrs Woolf and I part company. I long for a ‘Nelly’ to interrupt me with a bun and some fruit: blessed Nelly, who would then disappear and attend to the chores leaving me free to create deathless prose. Or, at the very least, get to grips with the latest notes for Book 3. My scribbles are accumulating and I need to get them organised while I wait for my EN’s.

I can feel a return to work coming on. In the absence of a Nelly, I must make an effort.

‘…a word is not a single and separate entity, but part of other words…’ *

17 Monday Aug 2015

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Dead Darlings, Drafts, Editing, Prose, Quotations, Virginia Woolf, Writing

It is the lot of a first draft to be the dumping ground for sundry swathes of ‘darling’ destined for the verbal killing fields. As I draw to the end of this new draft zero I ponder what comes next. Run off a hard copy, read it through in as few sittings as possible in order to get an idea of how it works as a story. Next I’ll arm myself with a bunch of sharp pencils, a note pad, a highlighter pen and a willingness to laugh wryly at myself, and begin the second pass. This is when I start giving myself advice and hopefully identify any massive plot holes and structural issues.

By the time I get to the fine-tuning however, something more will be required.

Compelling prose requires big words – lyrical, signature words drenched in clarity; paragraphs stopping us in our tracks, causing us to pause and sigh before carrying on. That said, too many words are worn out by constant overuse. Small and seemingly innocent, they congregate in clichéd clusters waiting for a gap in the narrative. Within the spell of a lovely sentence, these words often have no meaning and serve no purpose. Their only function is to render a perfect sentence cursed. I don’t mean proud, exquisite, conjuring words. What I’m talking about are the little ones, expressing nothing more than the bad habits of language. A beautiful sentence is rarely enhanced by dull, irrelevant words. (See title for good ‘but’ usage.)

Ironic perhaps to choose a Virginia Woolf quotation: she was after all partial to a bit of wordage. She also had an acute eye for the lyrical and she understood style. The individual writer chooses her style. Our voice tends to choose us; style is something else and can be considered. We can edit our style as we edit our narrative arcs, poke around in our plots and ravage our purple prose.

I’m getting ahead of myself: there are miles to go before I’m ready for this level of close editing. It doesn’t hurt to be reminded though and to that end, I best get a move on…

* Virginia Woolf

Writing the same book twice & why I don’t want to

05 Wednesday Aug 2015

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Authors, Ghostbird, Quotations, Second Book, Writers, Writing

Even before Ghostbird is published, I’m well on my way to finishing the first draft of Book the Second. The internet is littered with articles warning me how scary, fraught and downright cursed it’s likely to be. I have recently discovered Second Novel Syndrome and apparently it’s an actual thing: a condition afflicting even the most successful writers. (Hard to imagine A S Byatt wondering if The Shadow of the Sun was it.)

Before I received the offer for Ghostbird I was happily writing my new story because I wanted to. It has been quietly gathering momentum for almost a year. I was under no duress and there were no expectations. Now it’s real – I’m going to be published – and inevitably there will be a certain expectation of a second book. It’s daunting but then again, it’s only me and no one is waiting with actual bated breath for my follow-up are they?

If people read your first book and like it, they’re almost certainly going to want to read your second one. And judge it. I know I have to be careful and not mess it up.

I never saw myself as a ‘successful author.’ (Those of us who suffer from arrested development don’t.) Frankly, I read far too many brilliant books to kid myself. My literary sheroes include Edna O’Brien, Susan Hill & Maggie O’Farrell. Most of the time I read exhilarating literary fiction that makes my heart sing. I read writers who, if you cut them open, they would bleed words. Fame is not the goal. Acceptance is. That’s what being published means to me & what keeps me writing.

All at once there is less time to devote to the second novel. I’m learning fast that there is more to being published than simply writing a book & securing an offer for it. Behind the scenes lies an entirely different process: one I must be open to & respectful of.

I don’t want to become a bully either: hassling myself to get the second book finished. If I don’t enjoy it, what’s the point? I do have a head start. The first draft is almost done but what if I become complacent or insecurity convinces me it’s rubbish? What if I take a wrong turn or the premise of the story begins to look less appealing?

When I began it, I thought this second book was a far cry from Ghostbird. It has an utterly different kind of main protagonist and yet even so, as it takes shape I find myself wondering if maybe, after all, I am saying the same things. There are clear similarities – I’m writing in a related vein & exploring comparable themes. The landscape possesses an echo of Ghostbird. Have I managed to find new and different ways to lay these familiar motifs before my readers? It matters. I don’t want to be a one-trick turn.

Within my new story I seek a different voice. Not my writing voice – that’s pretty much set now. It’s her voice I still wrestle with, the voice of my central character. She is a different generation from the main character in Ghostbird and although I have a good deal more in common with her, I still have to find that elusive something that sets her apart and will make people care about her.

Cracking on then… see where I go & when I get to the end, where I’ve landed.

Or as Dorothy Parker once said, “Time doth flit; oh shit.”

Smoke & possibly some mirrors

20 Monday Jul 2015

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Drafts, Not Writing, Writing

In my previous post I mentioned a lack of writing. (Due to circumstances & so forth.) In the interim, time played nicely & I’ve upped my wordcount considerably. The proverbial light lurks at the end of the customary tunnel.

Smoke conjuring spells apart, I may have invoked the odd mirror too & there is no guarantee mess has been entirely averted.

I’m closer than ever to the end of draft zero. It’s still tangled & in order to turn it into a bona fide First Draft, considerable editing will need to be undertaken.

Draft zero is written in order for me translate what is in my head into what I think I want to say. Find out I have anything to say. Get the vision down, however random & unformed; try not to stray too far from the plan. Above all, keep writing. Words on the page while the muse is with me.

At all costs, resist my inner ‘edit as I go’ persona. She is wilful & bossy & likes her own way. Once I’m done I’ll do a paper edit & try to fathom how I really want to say it.

Onward & sideways.

A Different Kind of Beginning

02 Thursday Jul 2015

Posted by Carol Lovekin in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Editor, Ghostbird, Honno, Introduction, Janet, The Mabinogion, Wordpress, Writing

Never mind the mechanics – I reckon I have them as sorted as I’m likely to. Let’s do this, WordPress.

For the past nine years I’ve been scribbling on Live Journal. I’ve written thousands of words but LJ is a desert now & with my book coming out next year, I need a more public profile. If you have chosen to read me here, thank you kindly & this is where I’m at.

Writers are always being asked where they get their ideas. The question makes most of us smile because more often than not an idea is ‘a moment’ we can’t necessarily describe. Ideas can come via overheard, snatched conversations, from random names or a glimpse of a strange house on a hill. From a photograph or a line in a poem. They may be carried on bird wings & dropped on our windowsills. Ideas invade our dreams & often, on waking, we are left with little more than a sliver of memory.

People do like to know though, otherwise they wouldn’t ask. This then is how Ghostbird came into being.

I have Irish blood & a Welsh heart & have always been drawn to myth & legend. When I came to live in Wales it was inevitable that I would read The Mabinogion. As I read Math fab Mathonwy – the fourth branch – I found myself irritated by the machinations of the various men involved in the myth of Blodeuwedd. It immediately struck me as a feminist issue! Equally, I was puzzled by the idea that to be turned into a bird was a curse. To be a bird was surely to be able to fly. Blodeuwedd could escape the fate assigned to her! And therein lay the kernel of my story. Meaning no disrespect to the original – which is marvellous – I re-imagined the myth of Blodeuwedd from her point of view – as a positive act of reclaiming. I wrote it as a short piece & from there the first glimmerings of the novel fluttered in my brain.

My decision to have a teenage girl as my main protagonist remains a mystery to me. No way was I planning (nor have I written) a YA story. The book I envisioned began with the idea of transformation – & a witch woman. I honestly don’t recall at what point Cadi appeared. I do know, once she did, I had my story. It’s taken me several years to write this book. Not because I haven’t put in the hours, rather because I was finally learning to write.

As the well-known cliché has it, I’ve always written. All my life – letters, journals & stories including full-length novels. (An earlier self-published one is a story I still love but it suffered from a lack of sound editing & professional production.) Writing Ghostbird has been an unravelling of my subconscious as a writer. Digging up the bones so to speak & discovering that, after all, I could do it.

Not that I haven’t had help.

The path to publication is another cliché. Nevertheless, it is a path. When I submitted the first fifty pages of Ghostbird to Honno – the Welsh Women’s Press – & secured my Meet the Editor slot with Janet Thomas, I had no way of knowing how eventful & winding that road would become.

If a writer is fortunate enough to be gifted sound, professional advice, she is a fool if she ignores it. Janet has accompanied me from the moment she uttered her first, ‘I love it, but…’ As I mentally ticked the boxes (because she was right) I knew I was in good hands. Janet is the mistress of the missed opportunity. Her eye is eagle & nothing escapes it. I have re-written, edited, chivvied & borderline bullied this book to within an inch of its life. The result, I trust, will be pleasing.

I’m currently writing the first daft of my next book The fact that it’s temporarily reduced to bridesmaid status is something I’ve had to accept. Yes, I’m itching to get back to it but for now, while I immerse myself in the excitement & joy of ‘Getting a Publishing Deal’ I’m having the time of my life & enjoying every moment.

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My novels

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