While the wheels spin ... I'm reading.

One of the things they never tell you about becoming a writer, is that you're going to have to deal with the books and stories of other writers. By which I mean, people you know, and like, will get stuff published - and you are going to have to go and read it and then say something about it. It's only polite, after all!

But ... oh, the big but! Suppose you don't like it, or it's badly edited, or you think it's a thinly plagiarised version of another work that wasn't much cop to begin with? You might think that's not very likely - but the more you write, the more writers you meet, and the more you meet, teh more likely it is that you're going - one day - to have to front up to a writer whom you love dearly but whose work you detest utterly.

What you do then, I don't know. But I do know that this kind of fear goes through my head whenever I pick up a book or story by a writer I've met.

Today though, is not that day. I am reading A Gentle Axe by R. N. Morris. I know R. N., he's bought me a drink - and let me tell you, it's a huge relief and a great pleasure to tell you that I sat up until after midnight, reading this novel. It's about as ambitious as it gets, given that it lifts the detective from Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment and puts him in the middle of a mysterious new murder case, but it works, it really works, and if I don't finish the book tonight, it will be because an Act of God prevented me. So congratulations R N, and if anybody out there is looking for an atmospheric page turner ... look no further.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Gentle-Axe-R-N-Morris/dp/0571232051/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/026-5070159-6489234?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1177602247&sr=8-1

Not the Primrose Path

As Shakespeare has it,
"I shall the effect of this good lesson keep,
As watchman to my heart.
But, good my brother,
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own rede."

Not, I'm not on my way to Hell, with or without primroses. Instead I'm on the bluebell path (Stanmer Woods, for those who know Sussex) and that means I'm spinning my wheels. Yes, I'm not writing. Apart from playing with my latest commission, a gardening blog for a client, I've put myself on hold. I carry my notebook and pens, just in case, but I've given myself a few days off. Why? Because I don't want to write, or can't write, or force myself and write rubbish. And this is what I believe turns into writer's block, if you continue to push yourself. Instead I've made a list of things to do; visiting bluebells, coffee with friends, reading good books, and that's what I'm doing.

The reason I can be so calm about this is that it happened last year, and the year before. In 2006 it was February, and in 2005 it was April, but both years I had a period where I wasn't writing, or where what I was writing was, to be honest, crap. I don't keep a journal, because I'm suspicious of the energy they soak up, but I do record the number of words I write each day and a one or two word 'mood' comment. And looking back allows me to see that this is seasonal and it passes. And so I know this is not Hell, nor am I in it, but simply a phase ... and that on the other side of it I will write again with renewed enthusiasm and inspiration.

I was 'talking' to McKenna the other day - or whatever verb we are supposed to use when we email back and forth with somebody we've never met, but feel we know extremely well - and she suggested I needed to talk about how people need to have different kinds of work; some of which is important and some less so. I had a feeling I'd covered this, and went to check the archive. Hey presto! 26 March last year, this is what I said:

If you want to be a writer ...

Have projects as well as babiesWhat I mean is, don't just write fiction that is important to you. Kick back, have fun, write fluff. Nobody can spend all day being serious and high falutin' about words and not become a bit of a pompous arse. Think of Goethe, a man who simply took life a little too seriously.

If you change gear and allow yourself to write candyfloss, not only will your days be somewhat lighter and easier to get through, but you'll find you have work circulating that you can dismiss with ease. 'Oh look, another rejection for Ten Ways to Kiss a Frog,' you murmur. 'How very amusing.' And on you go with your life, and Ten Ways to Kiss a Frog continues to go out and get rejected and then one day it gets accepted and you feel as validated as though it was your masterwork that had found a home.

This is a strange but true fact about the publication process. You can write fluff and not care about it getting rejected, but when it is accepted you feel just as good as if it were a serious work of fiction.Because project work is easier to write, because you have less investment in it, and because you have less tendency to revise it to death, you'll find you have quite a body of it circulating, alongside just one or two 'babies' - those stories that really matter to you.

Remember that you don't have to send everything out under your own name - pen names are there so you can have fun without admitting you're really Zem Hurkov, writer of the popular science fantasy series: Kat Kallurian and her Magic Boots. If you only have two stories out in the world, each rejection is like a sabre cut. If you have forty-seven pieces out there, each rejection still hurts - but it's more like a paper cut.

And one year on, I'd add a rider to that. If you're writing long fiction; novels, plays screenplays etc, then it's even more important to be able to change pace and enjoy a little lightweight playtime. Otherwise the risk of burnout looms ...

One for Ren Holton

It's a sad but true fact that my three writing personalities compete. It's also completely pointless, as Carmel Lockyer (the erotica writer) wins every year; not only does she get most stories published, she makes much more money than the other two. Anyway, today is Ren's day to crow a little and I'm very pleased to have a long short story in this very cool Australian anthology.

Reading the blurb about the other stories that feature at http://elidan.site.net.au/ I really can't wait for my copy to arrive.

Contests - again ...

It must be contest season - I'm judging/reading for or have judged/read for three in the past two months. Some things bear repeating:

1. Theme contests require you to submit a story that RELATES to the set theme - not one that you wrote a year ago and haven't placed
2. Everywhere I've read for allows the judges to reject a story with substantial spelling errors -so if you're British and submitting for an American contest, please let the readers know that or you might get bumped because they didn't realise. Equally though, what's wrong with using your spellchecker, people? I am very fed up with basic spelling errors ruining my reading and your story
3. Reject your first two or three ideas for theme contests. Everybody else will have had them too. If the theme is pirates, I can guarantee that half the stories will feature the Kraken, Davy Jones's Locker and the Caribbean (a la Pirates of the Caribbean), a quarter will have a terrifying pirate who turns out to be a girl (duh!) and at least half the tiny remaining proportion will be about space pirates. If you want to place in a contest, make a list of all the obvious ideas that come to you when you reflect on the theme and avoid writing about them. Freshness helps you impress the judge, believe me!
4. Follow the rules - orange paper does not impress the reader, and funny fonts simply make it difficult for anybody to get to the end of the story.

That apart, it's a privilege and a pleasure to be a contest judge or reader. I enjoy sorting through stories and championing my favourites, and I learn a huge amount about writing every time I take on the task, so if somebody gives you the chance to read competition entries, accept with enthusiasm.

Being a novelist ...


I know I bang on and on about the importance of networking and the value of Zoetrope for just that purpose, but once again it’s proving its worth to me, in the bittersweet wisdom of Carol Lefevre, whose picture graces this post. Carol’s a fellow writer, and a good one, and her novel Nights in the Asylum is published in the UK by Picador on May 18th, or preorder (I have) on Amazon.

While I am going through ‘finding things to do while an agent reads your novel’ angst, Carol is going through another kind of experience entirely. This is what she said ….

‘The truth is, there is no end to anxiety for a writer, and it does drive some mad in the end. When my novel was out with publishers and I knew they were reading it, I would wake up five times in the night to check my email (responses had to reach me in Australia via London) and then end up reading the manuscript and wondering if it was really any good. I don't know what I would have done if it had been turned down - it was my best shot after many rejections.’

Oh boy, do I ever empathise with that experience! But she continues …

'Now that it is in print, there are the new anxieties of if and how it will be reviewed, how it will sell, how to say something interesting at a writers' festival that will impel people to buy the book. No wonder the literary field is strewn with bodies, those who have succumbed to drink and despair. But I ask myself what else I would rather be doing and the answer is, I just don't know. I love to write, so that's the gig, I guess.’

And if that wasn’t enough to show that the writer’s experience is always edged with thorns, here’s how it was for her on 2 April, in Australia, where her book was published by Random House …

‘It was strange today - first day of publication here and it was....quiet. Eventually I gave in to the temptation and went on a round of the bookshops in the city. The big stores were slow in getting it on display, but eventually I found a little pile of them in a nice independent bookstore. Spotting them was a special moment.’

Kudos to Carol for making it through the mill, and for sharing the process so the rest of us can feel the vicarious thrill of the special moment. That’s what makes writing worthwhile – even if it’s not your novel in the bookstore.

When a plan comes together ...

I love it, to misquote Colonel Hannibal Smith. When I sat down a few months ago to write my quarterly essay for Moondance, I knew I wanted to write about my own guru, who has shaped my life with his wisdom for over two decades, but I also knew that I didn't want to write anything heavy. The thing wouldn't come together, so I put it aside and got on with other things.

When the title zinged into my head a few days later, I knew that I'd found the story I wanted to tell - so I hope you enjoy Velvet Elvis and the Guru of Bling ... http://moondance.org/2007/spring/columns/sexton.html

If you want to be a writer ... buy literary magazines

It amazes me that people expect to be published in places they haven't read. That's like expecting the barman to pour champagne for the house on your birthday when you've never graced his barstool before - it might happen, but it's unlikely: if you get lucky, then lucky you, but if you're relying on luck for your birthday treat, you'll probably go home one year older and a whole lot less celebratory than you'd hoped.

Of course we can't all read everything. Apart from anything else, lit mags are not cheap and writers are not rich. On the other hand, a sample copy costs very little and at least shows you're interested enough to explore further. Most of us can manage a subscription or two (or three, or four, or ... nine?) and if we don't keep these smaller publications alive, there won't be anywhere for us to get published.

Which brings me to Cadenza. I've just read through my sample copy (pdf file, £3, an absolute bargain) and discovered that this literary magazine is not just a good venue for publication, it provides an incredible, almost invaluable, resource for writers. The commentary on competition entries is one of the best learning tools I've seen since I became a writer. This is not just because you're given an explanation of why a story was chosen as a winner, but also for the insight into how judges work and the general information about what moves a story up through the ranks of entries to the shortlist - if you don't understand why your work doesn't win contests, then a subscription to Cadenza (www.cadenza-magazine.co.uk) will quite possibly teach you everything you need to know about what makes winning literature.