Brightwriter60

Taking Criticism

2012-02-12T23:27:00.000-08:00

I have recently begun asking more often for critiques when entering those competitions that offer them.

I used to be afraid of critiques, even though they are always constructive and helpful. But I have learnt to stop being so cowardly and I welcome them now, taking on board the useful responses and suggestions they provide.

My English teacher for A Level taught us Practical Criticism and one of the things I remember her saying is that the word 'criticism' doesn't just mean pointing out negatives. It means a fair and comprehensive assessment, highlighting all that you have done well, along with those areas which could be improved.

I think I have found it hard to face critiques in the past because of the 'if only' feeling.

'If only I'd worked on that story a bit longer/a bit harder/spotted the less successful moments which, now they've been pointed out, appear obvious.'

But now, after feeling a little annoyed with myself and vowing to try harder in future, I nod sagely at the advice given and return to work on the story with a new sense of purpose.

I really like being asked to do a re-write for a magazine. In fact, I absolutely love those.

First of all, this marvellous feedback is free.

Secondly, the 'if only' problem is averted. This is a chance to actually work on the snags and iron them all out, allowing the possibility (though not, of course, the guarantee) that this story could still be accepted.

My mistakes and weaknesses within that story are aired for me, but without the door to a sale already being closed. That is perfect for someone like me, who can take criticism well enough, provided it is given while I'm still able to seize it and make full use of it.

Having said that, it is still helpful to be given the reason why a story has not succeeded and a rewrite is not being offered. Then I can sink my teeth into it all over again and make lots of changes, usually tearing things out and trimming off the gristle. After all, lots of stories find a home after three or four attempts. Maybe the initial rejection fires a spark that relights and relaunches it.

Being long-or short-listed also helps. It shows that the story, while not placed in the top three or whatever, is still worthy of further work and more outings.

So I feel I can take criticism quite well, as long as it is well-intentioned and can be put to good use. If it saves a story from being set aside or turns a mediocre attempt into a worthwhile read, then I am very happy to listen to advice.

The only time I can't take negative remarks is when people make them directly to me, unsolicited, after a story has been published!

Maybe I'm much too sensitive, but I always work on the basis that if I can't say something positive to the delighted author whose work has successfully reached the printed page, then it's best to say nothing.

Catching Up!

2012-01-31T09:00:00.000-08:00

Well, first of all, my apologies for promising to post more often this year and then not doing so at all throughout January. At least I'm fitting this in before we move into the second month.

My reason is that I have been fierce with myself about finishing the novel and haven't left any space in my head for thinking about much else, apart from as many short stories as I can squeeze in. Today I completed a very, very rough first draft of almost 80,000 words. I have tried to print it out for a read-through, but our new kitten jumped on the paper-tray and triggered a jam. So it's stuck in there until Husband's return later. Is Fate trying to tell me something ?

I can't say I feel pleased with the novel at this stage and I'm not sure whether that's a good thing, in that I'm aware I have tons more work to do and shouldn't assume it's anywhere near finished, or a bad thing - ie, it's awful.

I won't mind if it's awful. Well, I will, of course, but I'll try not to. I've enjoyed the experience and will have gained a lot from it. I haven't completely neglected the short stories and can't wait to devote some extra time to them now. I could use this novel as a springboard for the next one, for which I have an idea already, taking with me all that I have learnt.

So, what have I learnt? I think the most important thing is that I needed a bit more of a plot than I actually had. What I had was an idea. I expanded as I went along, but floundered at times, which made me feel a touch insecure about the whole thing, like a gymnast's major wobble on the balance beam. Next time, I would write down a few more notes first to check that I really did have a clear plot that would engage me throughout and therefore engage the reader too. I know I can iron out some of the kinks to steady things, but I don't know whether that will be enough to save it.

I have also learnt that if I put my mind to it, I can write more words than I thought I could. If I take an hour at a time and determine to write for that whole hour without being distracted, I really concentrate, lose myself in it and the writing flows as a result. I can always lose myself in short story writing, but I've had to try harder to focus for three months on this one piece of work. I'm too used to leaving characters behind after a few days, so it's strange living with them all the time. And I worry that if I'm tiring of them, the reader will feel the same. I hope that when I read through it, they will seem fresher. I think I should leave the read-through for a couple of weeks and come back to them when I've had a chance to distance myself. And to retrieve the scrunched paper from the printer.

At the moment I can't help mulling over the bits I think are good and wondering if I should turn them into short stories!

I am reading Della Galton's Moving On From Short Story To Novel, but should have done so before I began! However, I'm sure it will be very helpful as I continue to revise what I have written.

I have recently become addicted to Dorothy Whipple's books, both short stories and novels. I loved Someone At A Distance. I think her writing is beautiful. I know some readers might consider it a little old-fashioned, but I can't help loving that.

And I enjoyed Aimee Bender's The Particular Sadness Of Lemon Cake. Unusual and moving.

As always, the more I read, the more inspired to write I feel. I have had some good competition results and more sales recently. I put that down to all the extra reading I have been fitting in, often at 4am. I keep waking up at that time, so I've put it to good use!

Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T04:26:00.000-08:00

I hope every hope and dream held by all my blog followers comes true in 2012. Thank you for reading and commenting on my posts. I treasure all your thoughts and advice and look forward to posting more often throughout the year to come.

2011 has brought some ups and downs and one of the things that has saved my sanity and brought me peace of mind during tougher days has been my writing. Without it I don't know how I would have coped. I love the way it soaks up hours that might otherwise have been spent in aimless despair and much hand-wringing. My favourite escape from reality is fiction. Reading helps enormously. But writing takes me far beyond that washing-machine in my head that scrambles problems round in circles. Sometimes I look up from the laptop at three o'clock in the afternoon and wonder where I've been. And magically, my head is clear and free.

I've reached about 55,000 words in the novel and have lots of new story ideas too. I'm looking forward to starting those and, in preparation, have actually tidied the drawer in my writing-table. I found a lot of Ryvita crumbs in there, even more than are wedged in the keyboard.

I'm going to see the Russian State Ballet perform Swan Lake on Monday and can't wait. The best thing about that day is that I shall be there with my three beautiful daughters. And there couldn't be a better way for me to start the New Year than that.

Wishing you all peace, joy and good health. x

Am I Normal?

2011-12-07T05:25:00.000-08:00

I'm now 37,000 words into the novel and enjoying it almost all of the time. I'm still getting to know the characters and letting the story develop as they do. I've realised this means I shall probably need to re-write a lot of the opening few thousand words, as the tentative start won't always match what comes next. Is this normal?

I've stopped myself from tweaking too much and lingering over one word here and one phrase there, reminding myself I can do all that at leisure when the whole story is finished, however rough it is. As long as there is an entire novel with a beginning, middle and end, I should be satisfied with that as a first draft. That's the theory.

However, in practice, I am still staring at odd bits that don't feel right or looking at yesterday's words and wondering why on earth I thought they were all right at the time when they seem appalling the next day. Is this normal?

I have characters that I can't give up, but I don't know yet exactly how they fit into the story. Only that they will and I haven't found out about all that yet. They all live in the same road and have an impact on each other's lives, even though some of them won't necessarily meet. I worry about these two or three people earning their place and having a reason for being there. Will it happen and should I chop them out (ouch) if it doesn't? And is it normal to have such doubts?

Also, what happens if you like a minor character more than a main one? At this stage, I'm concerned there isn't one who stands right out. Several seem to be jostling for the lead. And how normal is that?

And should I worry about what's normal or just write?

I may know the answer to that, but any advice would be welcomed. Thank you!

Loving The Bones

2011-11-25T05:39:00.000-08:00

My novel is going well and that's thanks to the helpful advice from the last post. Thank you! I decided to start afresh and have now completed nearly 17,000 words. I do like this one and itch to get back to it whenever I finish for the day. It's flowing better and the characters are fleshier. I can actually see them and have got to know most of them. I still have moments of horrible doubt and think the entire thing is foolish and pretentious. But then I try to remember that it's still me writing. And I'm quite capable of being foolish and pretentious. So, just as with the short stories, if I don't like what I've written and feel it isn't adding to the telling of the tale or developing the characters, then it has to go.

The hard part of writing a novel is that if I keep going back to make changes, I don't make much progress. So I'll keep pressing on to get the first draft down. And then I can revisit it and start waving my green pen around. All I do now when I begin a session is re-read the last couple of paragraphs and make a few amendments that would, if left, keep bothering me too much. Then I move on, reassuring myself that this is only the bare bones and it's inevitable that they will be a bit clunky and clattery. But I need them before I pack in all the fat and meat and juicy bits. Did I say I have a fixation with butchers? They are in quite a few of my stories and there's one in my novel too.

Anyway, thank you from the heart for helping me make my mind up. The short stories are still coming out too. There's one in this week's People's Friend and Woman's Weekly Fiction Special. I love writing them and will never stop, but managed to spend two whole days this week on the novel, just to prise it off the starting blocks.

I get up early at the weekends now and write in my pyjamas. It's not a pretty sight, but a lovely peaceful time to write before the day starts. It's surprising how many words I can achieve on a quiet Saturday and Sunday. And the virtuous feeling afterwards makes it even more worthwhile.

Help!

2011-11-09T14:14:00.000-08:00

I've had a much better, clearer idea for the novel. Well, more than an idea. It's a whole picture. There's a setting which is far less vague than the current one and more defined characters. Also, fewer of them. It has a darker side, which I usually enjoy. It still has secrets too.

Shall I leave the current one at nearly 6,000 words, set it aside, and start the exciting new one, which I am seriously burning to do? Or am I in danger of becoming a serial novel-starter? I am scared I will keep changing my mind and not finishing.

I remember when I sat exams with a choice of questions, we were advised to pick one after a few minutes of careful thought and then stick to it. Never go back and change your mind, they said, as it would waste time and you would never concentrate properly for thinking about the abandoned work and whether you'd made the right decision.

I have taken two days off from the novel to concentrate on a short story and let my mind wander over the new idea. Tomorrow I must either start it or continue the with the first one. I can't wait to find out which I choose...

Hoping For More Than Potatoes

2011-11-05T08:13:00.000-07:00

Well, the novel is chugging along quite well. I have managed over 4,000 words and feel a lot better now than I did on the second and third days, when I had too many ideas and was trying to make it too complicated. I was so aware this was different from a short story, ie, a lot longer, that I was guilty of cramming far too much in. I was thinking of twists and turns that the characters were not ready for. As if I were trying to suggest a new-born baby write a Haiku.

One piece of advice applicable to short stories is valid for novels too. And that is to let the characters develop first and that will allow them to dictate the plot. Mine are already beginning to show me what should naturally evolve, rather than me deciding in advance without actually knowing them. After all, I can't expect to grow a sunflower from a tulip bulb. I have already changed the potential relationships between the characters a few times and feel very pleased when I reach that moment when light dawns and you think,"Oh, of course that's what happens!"

If I keep going at this pace, I shall finish the first draft in four months. That sounds like a long time when patience isn't one of my virtues, but now I've started, I really want to know what happens next.

In a previous post, I mentioned a story that changed setting from a hospital to a party in a railway canteen. I was pleased to have that one accepted by Woman's Weekly, particularly because it proved that making a drastic alteration is sometimes just what is needed. I'm glad I didn't abandon the first draft and start again. The basic story, the journey the characters had embarked on, was working for me. But they required a new direction. It felt daunting. I worried that I was veering off-course. But the final destination made it all worthwhile. So sometimes it can pay to make in-roads into unknown territory. You never know what the rewards might be.

I am still working hard on the short stories. I couldn't imagine being without them. But it is fun to have a novel to turn to as well. It feels very different from the short fiction. It's like a long soak in a bath. The short stories pour out like a quick shower; intense, invigorating and no waiting while the taps run.

When I feel unsure about what a character might do next, either in the stories or the novel, I imagine putting him into an extreme situation. I might blindfold him and make him teeter on the edge of a cliff. Or strap him to the wing of a plane and send him thousands of feet up in the air. Or offer him a million ponds to eat a raw elephant with a spoon. I imagine what he'll say, do, think, feel. Whether he will scream or try reasoning with me. What facial expression he will pull. Might he laugh? Cry? Distract me with words? Dance the hornpipe? It is quite useful. Also amusing. And it isn't the sort of thing you often have the opportunity to do in real life.

I wrote a novel a few years ago that I know is bad. It has its moments, but it is still bad. It is under the wardrobe, coated in fluff thick enough to be a small blanket. Or a bed for growing bad potatoes. I hope my new novel will be worthier and not have to be hidden away. And even if that's all it becomes, simply less dusty, less potatoey, then that's good enough for me.

Secrets

2011-10-26T02:13:00.000-07:00

Monday will see me beginning to write a novel. Now I've posted this fact, I cannot change it. I aim to write between 500 and 1000 words a day, using the afternoons. Mornings are reserved for short stories. I'm usually all written out by evening, but I might consider burning the midnight oil sometimes.

I can imagine that, halfway through the novel, I shall find it hard to let it go to bed. It will have a human shape by then. It will be breathing. Asking questions. Having tantrums. Saying why? Maybe panting and sweating. Attempting to resume unfinished conversations with me. Making me laugh. Making me sing. Making me cry. (Hopefully.)

I know vaguely what it will be about and I know three characters and some of the setting. I know the kind of language I want to use. I know I want to be sparing with the vocabulary, less wordy and pompous than I can be. I like Susan Hill's style of writing. Fresh and clean, but with the occasional metaphor that takes your breath away. I would like parts of it to be poetic, delicate, beautiful, and for these to be threaded in. I want to write in my own voice, but for it to work at its best all the time, every word.

It's no wonder I've put this off. I might be far too lazy to achieve all that. I want rather a lot. But I know what I don't want. I don't want to go into it half-heartedly or treat it like an elongated short story. This is different and I hope I'm ready for it. I have the time and I definitely have the inclination.

I might need some stronger contact lenses (too much hunching and peering like an old crone again) and I might need to clean out the Ryvita crumbs from my keyboard. And then I'll be more than ready.

All last night, especially at around 4am, I kept seeing scenes, imagining the setting. It's about a family with secrets. And I love the fact that all the secrets are in my own imagination. I only know one of them. That unlocked itself yesterday on a train from Cardiff to Cheltenham, with my daughter and I sitting unlawfully in First Class. (There were only three carriages and it was vertical sardines everywhere. Didn't they realise it's half-term? We were very tired and wanted to read our new books. And there was this empty and rather nice First Class carriage and a very cross guard who shook his head at us, but let us stay put until some of the sardines peeled off at Newport and we hot-footed it into an empty pair of seats in the normal carriage - the one with the rain leaking through the ceiling panels...) The rest of the secrets will emerge today (even without the marvellously atmospheric Great Western train to inspire me) and tonight. I can feel it...

I promise the novel won't have any parentheses.

Bringing On The Extras

2011-10-08T03:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, when things are going wrong and life is hurling a new dilemma at me, it is a relief to see a friendly face, even fleetingly. It can make all the difference to the day. It could be a chatty assistant in the supermarket. Or a kind driver who lets me out in front of him during rush-hour, when he's probably in just as much of a hurry as I am. Or, best of all, my eldest daughter's beautiful smile when she comes home from uni for a visit. These people can put life back on track again and make a major difference to the course of the day.

And it's the same with writing short stories. My latest one was veering towards a dead-end. I could see it coming and wanted to turn it round and head in the right direction again. But I didn't know how. I stopped, stared at the brick wall, then stared into space, then paced the room. Nothing came. I couldn't manoeuvre at all without the dead-end sign looming up at me again and again. I racked my brains for solutions. Curled up and went to sleep at the foot of the sign, tossing and turning, my brain still in overdrive.

And then it came. Bring in a new character. Ask for directions, opinions, a sweet smile of sympathy to spur me on. Let him show me the way out. Transfer my dilemma into his capable hands. It works every time.

Now I have this lovely young farmer in a tractor, who has driven into the first paragraph and breathed new life, and a strong waft of cow-pats, into my beleaguered story. He adds weight to both the other main characters in the way that a minor character does so efficiently. He has improved the plot and strengthened the structure. And the twist that seemed rather convoluted is now workable.

So I'm on the highway now and picking up speed again. Let's hope the dead-end stays behind me. It's amazing what a fresh face can do to help you on your way. It's like a fictional hitch-hiker adding a new dimension to your journey.

And, off on another tangent again, it also somehow reminds me of backing singers. I'm sure Frankie Valli would have flopped without his Four Seasons. And Smokey Robinson would have smouldered into ash without his Miracles.

Fish Out Of Water

2011-10-03T01:50:00.000-07:00

My youngest daughter, my husband and I are hooked on the TV series, Pretty Little Liars. I can't believe my husband, not a fan of American TV, (particularly far-fetched, lip-gloss-coated, poorly-acted mystery dramas), has become hooked. And there are some scary bits which I thought might have proved too much for my thirteen-year-old. (Although she is the coolest and most stoical person we know.) I am slightly surprised that I take time out to watch it too, since I don't really have much interest in television and don't know how to work the remote control at all. I do watch good films and the occasional good series if the family are keen to watch too. But I would never think of turning on the TV when I'm on my own.

However, Pretty Little Liars has everything a good short story needs. Conflict, tension, movement, fascinating characters (and I'm not thinking at all of Toby or Caleb's six-packs here) and good settings. There is humour as well as tragedy, plus lots of those everyday 'kitchen-sink' moments speeding the plot along.

Quite simply, it hooks you from the first, The three of us are dangling on the line with no wish to be set free. We've given up being cynical about impossibly glamorous people (the sort who wake up with perfect hair and false eyelashes in place) and absurdly unrealistic life-styles. We just wriggle contentedly on those hooks and gaze, wide-eyed, at this pretty little fabricated realm.

We gasp from time to time and say "What?" at the twists and turns, then spend ages trying to unravel it all afterwards. We even hope that not all the loose ends are tied up when it finishes, so we can keep on pontificating and wondering forever.

So although TV is not my thing, and this kind of programme is far removed from my husband's kind of thing, it just shows how we all like to be a fish out of water sometimes, just for forty minutes here and there. Especially when there's a damn good story (underneath the lip-gloss) to follow.

Where To Start?

2011-09-23T02:13:00.000-07:00

Searching for directions on Googlemaps, it makes sense to request a route that starts from the point at which you know you will flounder, rather than starting from home-base, from where you are familiar with the first few turnings. It seems to be the same with my recent stories too.

I set off with a degree of confidence. And then I find I'm steering along less familiar lanes. It is daunting, but much more thrilling. I feel slightly unsafe, yet exhilarated. And that is where the story really takes shape. That is the important moment upon which the rest will hinge.

If I then look back at the start, I find it has little relevance to the real journey. It was necessary to get me started, but it plays no role now that I'm on uncharted waters. (I may have crossed from land to sea here. Must have veered a little off course. Damn Googlemaps.)

What I might be saying here is that I am deleting my beginnings. I can't do it until I reach the end and know for sure I've arrived at the right destination. But by the time I'm getting close, I'm itching to cross it out and insert the right, true opening lines, the point where the meat is. (Actually, that might be connected with my butcher story.) That first paragraph grates away in my head and, when I finally delete it, it's like scratching the sole of an itchy foot at traffic lights when you've been desperate to do so along an entire carriageway.

The story I'm writing started originally with a journey to hospital. But instead we go to a party in a railway canteen on VE Day. The hospital became invalid once I knew where I was going. It was a convoluted trip to that party, but I'm glad I began there in the end. In the end? Ah, that's another strange journey for another time.

Stylish Blogger Award!

2011-07-07T01:07:00.000-07:00

Many thanks to Jo Derrick of The Yellow Room, http://www.theyellowroom-magazine.co.uk, who has nominated me for the above award. And accordingly here are seven things about me/my writing that you may not already know:

1) I have a cousin with an unusual name. She said she would love to see it featured in one of my stories, so I used it in my next story for Woman's Weekly and I have just heard that they are publishing it. I can't wait to send her a copy. I wonder if the desire to make her wish come true gave me extra reason to make sure the story worked.

2) Yesterday I drove to Cornwall and back from Gloucestershire (long story). The journey gave me lots of ideas for new stories, although tiredness prevented me writing them all down at home later. However, one has stuck and I hope to develop it today. Driving is good for inspiration, especially as you see things/people/places in flashes as they pass by. Those moments are vivid and I can only write a good story if something very intense, fleeting and striking sets it in motion.

3) I loathe it when people ask if I'm going to be the next JK Rowling. I might start giving them pitying looks instead of gushing.

4) I love William Trevor's stories and nothing gives me greater writing impetus than to read his collections, some of them over and over again. If ever I need fresh ideas when I'm thinking about writing a new story, I sit down with one of his books and choose a story at random. As I read, I dissect it, asking myself why a particular word or sentence works so well and how he deploys the technique so successfully. This dissection doesn't spoil my enjoyment of the story. In fact, it enhances it in much the same way as flaking fish from its skeleton before eating it and savouring its succulence without fretting about bones.

5) I don't eat meat, but it features often in my darker stories. As do butchers.

6) I sometimes pretend to phone a character and ask 'What are you doing right at this moment?' I don't allow anything banal, but it must be in keeping with the character. It has to be a shock or amusing in some way. And it has to be instant. No scratching of heads first. The answer will give the story a sharper edge.

7) I do not allow my mother to read some of my stories.

Thank you so much Jo!

Visitors

2011-06-28T00:10:00.000-07:00

For the last week I have been living with a new man. He is called Ian Green and he owns a bed-shop he inherited from his father. He breathes in the aroma of plastic-wrapped mattresses all day while his customers dwindle in number, seduced by the sweeter prices and faster service of the Internet. His sales are insufficient for a profit and he hasn't paid his mortgage for a few months. He's afraid to tell his sour wife and greedy child that they may lose the roof over their heads and their smoked-salmon breakfasts. No wonder he's moved in with me.

I think he should tell his wife everything, but I don't want to force him in that direction. I'm happy to wait on him hand and foot and let him choose whichever path seems natural for him. Besides, it's only been a week. I need to get to know him better before I can give him any advice. I have shared a lot of time and meals and coffees and conversations in the car with him. He had a bowl of cereal with me this morning (or was it that I ate two bowls while listening to him?) and he was vociferous when I was out in the car yesterday. I couldn't shut him up.

But I don't tire of him. He has hidden depths. There is far more to him than pocket-springing or memory-foam. He has an imaginary mistress called Miss Dangerfield and a secret yearning to be a farmer. He takes lentil soup to work in a flask.

I like having him around, but I shall finish with him soon. His connection to me is a solid one, nearly 3000 words have blossomed between us and I shall soon begin to nurture those into a good shape, with plenty of colour and interest. I hope.

Then he has to go. But I shan't forget him. I shall worry about him, knowing already how his future is going to turn out.

But it was fun while it lasted.

Am I still with my husband? Of course. He has a very understanding nature. But Graham and Harry have moved in now and I'm just about to get to know them quite well. And they might be around for quite a few weeks.

A Steep Hill

2011-05-26T01:08:00.000-07:00

I'm finding the eighty thousand words in eighty days challenge a bit of a steep hill. I keep stopping to have a look at what I've achieved and to think about it, but the view isn't very satisfying. Some days it looks bright and promising. But on most of the others, I look at it and feel empty. There's no substance there. The settings seem insignificant. The characters don't touch me at all. So it's quite a lonely hill, just me standing there with a 'So what?' feeling.

When I used to take part in the online flash fiction competition, Write-Invite, I was almost always pleased with the result. It was the same idea, writing to a deadline of thirty minutes, and therefore a case of pouring out words from the soul. But I can't seem to do it any more. I have tried setting a deadline in much the same way, writing for an hour or so, which yields roughly the thousand words I need for the challenge. But the impetus just isn't there. I don't write with the same charge of adrenaline.

I have set myself themes, so that I have a purpose with each story. But they don't unfold. They trickle in odd tangents and therefore never really gel. I have few decent endings.

I guess that when I finish, I shall edit drastically and rip out the rubbish. But I'm wondering if there will be much left over. It's a bit like a cake my youngest daughter baked the other day. The top, bottom and sides burnt. We sliced them off and then discovered the centre was raw. So we discarded that too. The remainder was delicious - light, fluffy and totally edible. But there wasn't very much of it and it looked a bit messy!

So I hope I shall have something at the end, but it may not be anywhere near the eighty thousand words I need. And whether it is worthwhile or not, I shall have to wait and see. The experience so far is making me feel I ought to cut my losses and give up. At first, I was just pleased to write the required amount, but perhaps that is what is hampering the creative flow. I'm just too interested in completing the daily task, rather than really writing from the heart. But if I could do it with the flash fiction, why can't I do this? Should I keep climbing to the top or accept that the view from there will be foggy and pointless?

Beginnings And Endings

2011-04-29T00:20:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I visited my mother in Dorset to take her to my brother's grave on the tenth anniversary of his death. We tidied the grass and added spring flowers. We cleaned the headstone and then stood there in this beautiful setting, a village tucked into the soft, watchful hills. The sun illuminated the church, but our corner was in shadow and cooled by the breeze. I didn't want to leave, but my mother was chilled by the thought of his bones lying there in the dark. But I felt at least there was something of him left.

My mother spoke to him before she turned away, leaving me humbled by the strength in her voice, by the courage of the human spirit that allows a frail mother of eighty-five to speak to her cherished dead son as if he were still there.

We miss him more each year, the reality that he is never coming back more brutal at each anniversary of his death. She told me yesterday that he once said he would never be old. He would be content to skip the option of life beyond the middle years. And she said she would hate to go on much longer now. Ageing is harsh and she can feel herself decaying. The last ten years have made her life a waiting game. No mother wants to outlive her child. She wants to join her husband and her son now and the thought that she will be with them at last blocks any fear of dying. Her life will be complete once she has gone. And I will have my wonderful memories of them all and be able to think of them together in peace.

We left that tranquil place and drove on through the narrow lanes dappled with shadows of fresh leaves, skirting round young pheasants exploring their new world, trying to make sense of it all and excited by its promise for as long as it lasts.

Then as I went home along the main roads, I saw a mature pheasant lying dead on the verge, but still with his glorious plumage being ruffled by the wind and shining vibrant in the sun.

A Challenge For The Summer

2011-04-17T00:10:00.000-07:00

My Spring/Summer challenge is going to be writing 80,000 words in eighty days, as proposed by Sally Quilford at http://80kwords80days.blogspot.com/. It might be what I need to produce a themed collection of short stories at last, although other writers will write their novel or continue their work-in-progress. It doesn't matter how you choose to shape the words. It's important only that you write them. I'll aim for an average of a thousand a day of course, but undoubtedly there will be the odd day when I can't achieve any. And with luck, the occasional day when I manage more.

I feel excited about it, but as usual I don't know what will happen. I don't plot. But I daydream. Fragments of those muddled visions are stored in my head somehow and eventually translate into words on the screen. I think my theme is going to be: striving for the impossible. But I don't know for sure. And that's as much planning as I can do. On May 1st, I shall launch in and can't wait to see where it takes me. I'll feel inspired by the thought that others are doing the same and probably finding some days harder than others.

Now the days are longer and brighter, I fit in a little more writing than usual. And with my middle daughter soon on study leave for her GCSEs, I hope that my dedication to the 80k/80days challenge will assist with her revision! It worked when my eldest daughter was revising for A Levels. We both sat at the kitchen table and she beavered away with her books while I wrote. I have to say that I was the one always begging for it to be time to stop for lunch. But she would keep my nose to the grindstone until a more suitable time than 11.30! One memorable time, she asked me to help with her Statistics revision. She must have been desperate because no one in the world is less mathematically minded than I am. But, incredibly, between us, we managed to make sense of the problems, taking it bit by bit and getting more and more into the thrill of puzzling it out, and felt fantastic afterwards.

So if I could meet that challenge, then I'll definitely be able to do this one! Especially now I've told you all that I'm going to!

Sad Post

2011-04-03T08:21:00.001-07:00

I have been thinking about how fictional characters can behave however the writer chooses. And how that makes them so special to us. We send them off on their wrong path, safe in the knowledge we can help them turn round and find the right way again. Not by a chance event or a magic wand wafting conveniently around their bewildered heads, but all by themselves. They see their problem and realise how to set themselves right again. It makes a good story and writers sit back in satisfaction ( hopefully) just for a moment and feel relieved their special person has made it. Or that at least there's a shred of hope for them after the conclusion.

I wish we could do that in real life too. You may remember my middle daughter's pneumonia last winter and the amazing boyfriend who carried her to the car in the snow, cleared our path out of the garage and stayed with us for hours in the hospital. This same boyfriend now tells her he wasted his time with her and that his new life smoking weed, drinking to excess and collapsing on pavements is a much happier existence. She cares and worries about him. She forgives this massive insult to their time together, as long as he is all right and is truly happy. She remembers the happy times and all the love they had. And she always will. This says so much about my incredible Olivia. I hope she never changes.

But I wish I could believe he has found the right way. And I wish real life empowered us as much as fiction-writing does. But there's truly no more to be done than hope for the best.

And Again!

2011-03-06T03:04:00.000-08:00

Enormous thank yous to penandpaints at http://penandpaintswriting.blogspot.com/ for another Stylish Blogger Award. It's a lovely compliment to be stylish twice over! Here are seven more things about myself. I haven't thought about them yet. I'll just see what spills out of my head on Sunday morning.

1) As a small child, I was obsessed with limping. I would limp round and round the garden with a bamboo cane, pretending to be a little old man.

2) I am a slow, slow reader. I re-read sentences I like, savouring the words like that first sip of a gin and tonic. Ages pass before I turn the page. My husband whizzes through books, but I worry that he is missing something.

3) I insisted on wearing my stilettos when I worked in a toy factory during school holidays. One day they took me off my seat on the assembly line to work on a machine that punched rivets into plastic parts. It was a standing-up job. After the long walk home, my feet were so painful my mother had to make a mustard bath for them. But I still wore the heels the next day. I was utterly faithful to high heels and I still am, despite the torture. I don't understand the flat pumps my daughters wear.

4) When I visited my husband in hospital following his five-hour operation to remove a facial tumour, I had forgotten my handbag and ran out of petrol. The first thing I said was, "Have you got any cash on you?"

5) I eat mint-sauce sandwiches.

6) When a story I'm writing is going well, my heart beats very quickly. I feel it might jump out of my body. I get the same sensation just before a good story idea forms in my head. As though my body knows what is about to happen before my mind sees it.

7) A story came into my mind recently, fully-formed, with the main character complete and real. I felt he was mine to know and love and worry about. I sent him to a competition and know that if it isn't shortlisted, I shall be utterly devastated. I have been scared to read it again since, in case it's actually rubbish.

Thank you to penandpaints for giving me carte-blanche to bear my soul once more.

Stylish Blogger Award!

2011-03-03T01:59:00.000-08:00

I'm so delighted to receive the Stylish Blogger Award from Rosemary, whose own blog, http://ros-readingandwriting.blogspot.com/, I love reading. I am now in the happy position of listing seven things about me, so here I go:

1) I was thrown out of Girl Guides for refusing to remove my bright red nail varnish.

2) I am not at all rebellious by nature; the above is the most appalling thing I have ever done.

3) I have had three operations on my nose to repair damage caused by falling crockery (definitely falling, not flung at me), which joyfully resulted in my nose becoming much neater in size and less bulbous. In effect, a free nose-job. It no longer casts a shadow over my moustache.

4) I enjoy having a general anaesthetic.

5) I began to learn to play the piano in my mid-forties, without any prior knowledge of how to read music, and am now coming up to Grade Five. I am a plodder and have no natural ability. I drive everyone mad by playing the same three bars over and over again until I have mastered them. I am the same when I write. If a word doesn't seem right, I stare into space until the perfect solution arrives. I can't continue until I feel satisfied. I can't leave errors. I have to correct as I go. I love finding things to circle with red pen, from my days studying to qualify as a proof-reader. (I achieved Merit, but they sent me a Distinction certificate by mistake. I was tempted to keep it, but decided to do the right thing and send it back.)

6) I was supposed to spend the summer after A Levels working at Butlins in Bognor with my best friend. She had to go on her own while I stayed at home and stole her boyfriend. I will never forgive myself for this. But it might make a good story.

7) My middle daughter tells me I show off with my dictaphone, waving it around with a hideous flourish in the car as I finish recording random ideas. I also gush at her friends, flirt with her boyfriend and embarrass her at check-outs by saying, "No thanks" to help with packing, then adding, "I've got my little helper with me."

Thank you so much, Rosemary, I've enjoyed this!

Pass The Brandy!

2011-02-20T23:54:00.000-08:00

I attended the launch of Ways Of Falling on Saturday. This is an anthology by Earlyworks Press and one of my stories is in it. The launch was at the Calder Theatre Bookshop in Southwark and was a lovely, happy event with lots of nice writerly people. My husband, an avid reader of either very long novels or non-fiction (the total opposite of what I read and write), really enjoyed himself. He couldn't wait to get home and finish reading one of the stories, an excerpt of which was read out at the launch, pausing at a cliffhanger moment.

Several of the authors elected to read. I loved listening to them. Since these stories come from the soul, they all read from there. They knew the perfect times to pause, to soften or raise the volume, to accelerate or calm the pace. It was such a pleasure to sit there and soak it all in, especially after the hellishly long drive through thick traffic in the pouring rain.

My regret was that I chose not to read and wished that I had. It was just like all those times at school, when I longed to raise my hand and volunteer to read aloud in class. But something always held me back. I knew I could read well. I had a loud and clear voice. I didn't stumble over difficult words. English was my passion. Reading was my main interest. I knew I could read better than the girls who always chose to do it. I read aloud in my bedroom all the time. I read to my mother while she did the housework at weekends. I read her every Malory Towers book and a couple of John Wyndham, one of which reduced her to tears.

So why wouldn't I read in class? I guess it was pure shyness. But it was a shame. I came out of those lessons feeling disappointed in myself. I felt the same on Saturday. It wasn't a case of not wanting to read. I just let myself back out of it. Maybe it was because my narrator in this story has an accent. But I can do that accent, because I've read the story aloud at home. Millions of times.

I was once interviewed for radio and was very happy to read some stories then. I didn't want to stop, in fact. I could have rambled on all day. So maybe it's having people in the room watching, as well as listening, that I find difficult. Not being able to see the audience, I could pretend to be speaking just to myself, I suppose.

When I took my finals at uni, the prospect of the oral exam, conducted entirely in German and lasting a thousand years, worried me enormously. There was to be a panel of three external examiners. I pictured them all staring without smiling. And I envisaged myself, shaking and stammering. I have to confess that, come the day, I allowed a fellow-student to talk me into drinking three glasses of brandy (I didn't need much convincing) just before I went in.

I stumbled through the door, catching the loop of my tie-belt on the handle. This pinged me back out of the room again. After extricating myself, which took some time, I made a second entrance. I was smiling so broadly by then that I'd stopped feeling nervous. It's impossible to be too hard on yourself if you're smiling. And, wonder of wonders, the panel was smiling back at me! I don't know if they could see me that well through the brandy fumes. I expect I smelt quite memorable though.

I sailed through the oral after that. They couldn't shut me up. I prattled about the year I spent in Germany, answered questions with gushing enthusiasm, virtually had to be prised from my seat and shown the door at the end.

Remembering that, I'm determined to read if I ever get the chance again. I know I can do it really. Even without the brandy.

Being Yourself

2011-02-10T03:41:00.000-08:00

I visited my aunt and cousins on Saturday, having not seen them properly for many years, except at weddings and funerals. This was a proper old-fashioned visit, with high tea and shared memories and old photographs being passed around. Their clearest recollection of me as a child was significant. They remember me with books.

I brought books with me whenever we went to their house, sat and read during the conversations. I only talked animatedly about the latest Enid Blyton. I was shy and quiet all the rest of the time. But their memory of me, this dull, solid little bookworm wearing impossibly thick glasses, was clearly a fond one. And that was the real me. And so was the young language-student I became later, head still in a book, loving words more than anything else in the world.

Why I don't know, but I drifted away from all that I was passionate about and took jobs that I couldn't really excel at. I was hopeless, although I kept on trying. A colleague once asked why I had chosen a path I clearly was not destined to tread happily. I suppose it comes down to money. It has to be earned. But I wish I could have discovered writing sooner and clung to what I understood best. It suits me to be cloistered in a room with nothing but my imagination. But I guess it wouldn't have paid all the bills. It still doesn't. But I am me again now. But to my aunt and cousins, I had never changed from the child who loved the company of words more than anything else. So they were delighted and not at all surprised to learn I had become a writer.

Apart from during games of Let's Pretend, we are more likely to be natural and honest about who we are when we are very young. The adult years muddy our waters, often from necessity. We have to go out into the world and make our mark, pay our way. We are also expected to be more sociable than we can get away with as children.

So I feel very lucky to have come full circle and be in a position to be me again. A loner with my head in another realm a lot of the time. And confident enough not to care what other people think of that. Even when the lady in our village shop said with a sort of sneer, "So you just sit at home writing little stories, do you?", I agreed, joyfully, that she was absolutely right.

I think my aunt and cousins helped me realise how good it is to be yourself.

Looking Up

2011-01-28T23:31:00.000-08:00

A lovely visit from my eldest daughter, taking a break from uni, opened my eyes. I realised that I rarely look up from my laptop during the day while the other girls are at school. Grudgingly I see to the needs of the washing machine and sometimes I'll remember that a bed has to be changed or the surly upstairs toilet is waiting for me to unblock it again. But I rush back to my little table covered in books and notes and, oddly, the salt and pepper, and get back to what I love doing best when I'm alone. All the writing stops as soon as the family arrive home and it feels like the perfect time to put it aside. By then, I'm all written out.

However, it was inspiring to look up from the screen for a couple of days to enjoy my daughter's company. She and her beautiful new boyfriend entertained me with their news and views, their funny banter, their wicked impressions of people and their obvious love for each other. They sat on the pew in the kitchen with a never-ending pot of tea, while I sat opposite and just drank it all in. (The entertainment rather than the tea.) It was a realisation for me. Firstly, they are an exquisite couple. But secondly, I don't sit down and look/listen enough any more. Their visit showed that I have cut myself off perhaps a little too much from the world. I gleaned so many ideas for stories from looking/listening to them.

Now, I am still not going to change myself much. I am a loner by nature, except when family are here. Then all my attention is happily focused on the people I'm with. But I shall make an effort to leave the house and sit in coffee shops more, observing people and picking up a few strands of ideas to weave into stories. Time to look up from the writing occasionally and just tune in to the world outside my kitchen.

However, I shall keep my eyes peeled while I sit in Costa. And if I spot anyone I'm acquainted with, I might duck under the table. I'm not that sociable yet. Besides, I'll be too busy making notes.

Enjoying My Ginger Nuts

2011-01-24T04:39:00.001-08:00

I have begun a new story today to the strains of Vivaldi's Four Seasons. My typing was more ponderous during the slow, thoughtful sections. But the pace of it accelerated so much during the crescendos that I started laughing and had to take a break. Besides, I can't actually type that fast and discovered all the words were nonsense.

I have a CD called Gypsy Creams And Ginger Nuts. The tracks are very sixties-supermarket background music. I am writing a lightly-shaded story, which has, hopefully and allegedly, some hilarity content within it, with my Ginger Nuts trilling alongside me. Another story, which I'm planning to revise this afternoon, is rather dark. The music I listen to for that is the theme from Twin Peaks. Sinister, haunting and overhung with menace. I am convinced the music sets the mood and helps me to lose myself in the atmosphere of the story. And I enjoy the transformation from light to dark within the space of a day.

I'm feeling pleased today to have received copies of the latest anthology from Biscuit, in which one of my stories appears. I have had two acceptances from People's Friend as well. So the year is panning out rather well. Let's hope that's not a flash in the pan.

Silver Linings Last Longer Than Clouds

2011-01-17T01:48:00.000-08:00

I'm finally surfacing after flu has stamped its insidious footprints through our Christmas and New Year. My middle daughter has been hospitalised twice with pneumonia. She and I both rattle with antibiotics. The muscles between our ribs are in agony from being stretched by coughing. And my husband is suffering terribly from exhaustion, having made a thousand glasses of squash, dispensed a million painkillers and scraped countless uneaten meals into the bin. My daughter is tentatively trying a day at school today and I am hoping to write. I have missed it so much. I wrote a little last week whenever I had enough energy to sit upright. The week before that, I couldn't face my laptop at all. In fact, I couldn't believe I had ever really been a writer. My normal world felt alien. All I had was this horrible grey existence. I hate feeling weak, hate doing nothing. Some days I have been almost in tears pushing the Hoover around just to rediscover some sort of familiar routine, just to be vaguely active. But in the end, all anyone can do is wait until they feel better. That takes patience. And I am criminally impatient. I was never blessed with that virtue, so I am ecstatic that I finally feel I'm emerging.

There are highlights though. My daughter and I felt so emotional when the flu had us in its clutches that we cried at everything, including Jeremy Kyle and most adverts. I cried when my husband and eldest daughter cooked a roast for Boxing Day even though they'd never done it before. They worked as a team and produced a perfect meal. aided by several gin and tonics. I shall never forget the look of pride and pleasure on their faces. They are now planning to be the Boxing Day cooks every year. The most tears I shed were when the boyfriend of the daughter with flu carried her down the icy lane to our garage so that we could take her to hospital the first time, two days before Christmas. Her little white face resting on his shoulder is an image that will stay with me forever. He shovelled the snow away from the garage door so I could get the car out. He came with us, waited there for six hours with nothing to eat while she was assessed and kept our spirits up the whole time. He assured me she would be discharged in time for Christmas. He is only fifteen.

I also have a guardian angel. When we were driving to the hospital, my car slid on an icy hill and refused to go anywhere other than towards stone walls and other cars. A huge Land Rover appeared out of the greyness and smilingly towed us until we were on safer, flatter roads. This kind of thing has happened to me before, which is why I think I have an angel watching me. I have got into several difficulties on the roads (my own fault, owing to my head always being engaged in fictional matters, I think). As you can imagine, I cried further tears at this act of heavenly kindness that helped us on our way to hospital. The boyfriend then had to read all the road signs for me as I didn't even know where this particular hospital was. He remained calm and patient throughout and there was nothing a panicking flu-struck mother with a very ill daughter could have needed more.

It all goes to show that, even in miserable times, there are amazing surprises that will never be forgotten.

So all this is why I have been behind with writing my blog and reading your lovely blogs. It's lovely to be back and I'm ready now to catch up. In the middle of the dark days, I found out that Woman's Weekly are taking two more of my stories, which was another beam of light shining through the murk. We're definitely having flu jabs this year!

Year-End

2010-12-08T03:06:00.000-08:00

Approaching the end of 2010, I feel quite satisfied all round, I think. As a family we have been through some miserable months, but have begun seeing a glimmer of hope that those problems may be fading now. Two of our daughters have faced depression and personal problems. The biggest shock for me was that I couldn't help them. With maternal arrogance, I thought I could put them back together myself, only to discover that too much emotion of my own is invested in the girls. Which meant that talking about things I couldn't make better resulted in me feeling a failure and adding to their unhappiness. Professional help was needed and has given positive results. The girls are much happier, fitter, brighter and moving on. And I have discovered that a mother just has to be here for them. That's what counts.

Writing-wise, I have been fortunate. I have had lots of rejections of course, but some pleasing results as well throughout the year. I have just heard that I've won first prize in The Yellow Room Competition. It was a story that fell out of my head like a cake from a well-greased tin. There it was. And I just kept smiling as I wrote it. It gave me so much fun and pleasure that I would have treasured it even if it had never seen the light of day out there. So I'm really glad for the story that it succeeded. It just seemed to be sitting there, ready for me to tip it out into the world. I almost feel like the middle-man really. Many thanks to Jo Derrick of The Yellow Room for liking it too. It's a fantastic magazine with all kinds of good stories.

I wish everyone kind enough to read my posts a merry Christmas and a brilliant, shiny, happy 2011, with lots of writing from us all. And, hopefully, more success for every one of us.

A Bit Fishy

2010-10-31T07:40:00.000-07:00

Oddly, a lot of my recent stories have a fish in them. I have no idea why. My middle daughter is sketching a lot of fish for her GCSE art coursework. I think we must have cast our nets into the same pond. She's drawing them and I'm writing about them. I had to buy her a fresh sea-bream, which she dissected all over the kitchen table, and then drew it. The remains are now in the freezer in case she needs to capture it again. When my youngest daughter sat down for tea, I heard a cry of "OMG, there are fish guts all over the table!"

I had a new idea for a story while I was cooking today's dinner and, believe it or not, there is a fish-theme again. So I think I might put them all into a collection at some point. I like the idea of a group of stories with a link. I have always wanted to extract a character out of one story into the next, and then yet another from that one, so there is cohesion, but without one story being dependent on another. That could be my next move before I try writing a novel in the New Year.

I'm so pleased that 50 Stories For Pakistan is on sale now. All the money goes to help the victims of the floods and is available from blurb.com

I'm also very pleased to be in the shortlist for the Bridport Prize. I was in the final one hundred out of 6,000 entries. So I'm quite pleased. I didn't get placed in the top thirteen who won prizes (congratulations to all those writers), but that story can now travel with confidence to a new destination. And there were no fish in that one.

Six Things About My Writing

2010-10-19T01:39:00.000-07:00

Thank you to my lovely friend Joanne Fox for the Sweet Friends Award she has given me. I feel very happy about it and accept it with these six facts about my writing:

1) I sit, hunched like a witch (I have the big nose and long messy hair too), with bowls of cereal over my keyboard, frowning and screwing up my hopeless, short-sighted eyes.

2) I get frightened of my spreading backside, causing me to leap up now and again to do exercises from an ancient Claudia Schiffer keep-fit video. (I don't mean Claudia Schiffer is ancient. I love her for trying to help my hips.)

3) I write humorous stories when I'm low and dark ones when I'm happy.

4) I punch the air, slap the table, jump about and shout 'Yes, Yes!' when I get an acceptance or see my name on a shortlist, longlist or any sort of list. (This is embarrassing if a passer-by looks in the kitchen window at the time. Especially the time I danced to Honky Tonk Women.)

5) I've grown to like rejections. (This is untrue. But I try to see the positive side. And, almost always, I can see why they didn't make it. Eventually.)

6) I keep using favourite words in my stories, e.g. vanish, spread, slither and scarlet.

Thank you Joanne. I'm ready for a day's writing now. I'll just go and get the Special K first...

Autumn

2010-09-26T21:38:00.000-07:00

Autumn seems to bring a change in me, as well as its gradual misting and moistening and russeting of the outside world. Oddly, I feel much more nostalgic and emotional. I remember being a child more vividly at this time of year. Perhaps I recall the excitement of the new school year and the magic of having a virgin pencil case and new shoes (even if I loathed my mother's choice of the latter and sulked all the way home from the shoe shop).

Then again, perhaps it is the prospect of log fires, frosty windows, warm scarves, hiding Christmas presents and drawing the curtains at four in the afternoon that combine to induce that feeling of cosiness and being wrapped up against the world. I must have felt very protected and warm at home as a child. Hence the nostalgia. I also love autumn for its strange arrangement of the bleak and the colourful, for its bitter cold and glaring sun, for the feeling that it is acceptable to hibernate at home and refreshing walks can be forgivably brief.

I am also thinking about how fortunate I am to be enjoying myself so self-indulgently by the fire with my writing. I do feel guilty about how I take it for granted at times. So I am really pleased to have had a story chosen for 50 Stories For Pakistan, the 'follow-on' from 100 Stories For Haiti and the brainchild of the lovely Greg McQueen again. Sales of the book will help people in desperate circumstances of the sort that we shall never experience in our safer, more insulated world, whatever the season.

Old Friends

2010-09-17T22:48:00.000-07:00

We all try to recognise rejections as opportunities for a different market and many of us discover that a story succeeds after a couple or more attempts to find its true home. However, I still have lots of stories that may never be read by anyone. They've been sent to all the obvious places and turned away. I can bear them in mind for competitions, but they clearly need some further work, or even stripping down to the core and rewritten.

However, it has occurred to me during an idle moment or two, that I want to keep some of the characters, even if I discard their story. Most of my stories are character-led and I have become attached to them. In fact, 99% of my social life revolves around fictional friends. This is actually true. I have few friends in reality. I am terrified of friendships. If I make a friend who seems to like me and becomes keen to meet up frequently, I feel trapped and make excuses not to see them. It's lucky I like my own company, or I don't know what would become of me.

But my thought was really about characters. I think I should keep a list of them all, so that I can be reunited with them in the future, even if I have decided not to use their story. There are one or two who keep haunting me and I can't always recall the title of the story in which they featured.

I made a lovely man called Johnny Carpenter. He is aloof, but charming and irresistible. He is tough, but has a vulnerable side. Sadly, I killed him in a shock ending. But that doesn't stop me from summoning him back to life. That's the other advantage of fictional people. You can make them appear wherever you want and do whatever you tell them, whenever you feel like.

Maybe I'm a secret control freak? In real life, I find it hard to say no. I'm one of the least assertive people in the universe and my husband calls me a soft target. But, when I'm writing, I can bend and shape people to my heart's content. It's probably the perfect antidote to real-life for me!

I think virtual friends are perfect. We can drop in and out of each others' lives, or segments of our lives, at times to suit ourselves. We can think about responses and never have to be put on the spot. I once had a friend who would arrive at my home unannounced and ask what I was doing on a certain day. Thinking she was going to suggest a nice outing, I would say I was free. Then she would ask me to babysit her children for her. She got me every time! I'm hopeless when I'm caught unaware. I always say yes before I know what I'm being asked!

I wondered, before I began rambling, whether other writers keep a list of favourite characters and allow them to see the light of day on more than one occasion? Or does each new story need a completely fresh viewpoint? Sometimes I like a character so much, I can't bear to let them go and actually miss them when the story ends.

Back To Earth

2010-09-03T01:07:00.000-07:00

We may have to live on bread and water for a long time, but it was worth it. We have just returned from a big holiday, the first one spent in hotels rather than self-catering. It was the first time I haven't had to plan and cook meals in thirty years. We gazed into the strange depths of the Grand Canyon, waded through the heat and bright lights of Las Vegas, drove along Route 66, melted in the sunshine at Palm Springs, craned our necks to peer up at the endless height of the sequoia trees in Yosemite, mingled with the strange human life crammed into Venice Beach and left great pieces of our hearts in San Francisco. And more besides. We planned and saved long and hard for that holiday and the memories will live forever. It was monumental and we feel blessed to have had such an incredible experience.

Perhaps only writers will therefore understand why, back at my writing desk with all this mind-broadening depth of travel experience to trawl for inspiration, I am writing a story this morning about a decaying parade of shops in Ealing...

Sunday

2010-08-08T10:56:00.000-07:00

Today the family were busy with their individual interests. My husband and youngest daughter were playing a game on the WII. My middle daughter went to visit a friend for a few hours. The eldest is away with her boyfriend. So I asked my husband to think of a few random themes and chose a couple to use as inspiration for short stories. I set myself time limits and wrote continuously, keeping the flow rapid and not allowing myself time to ponder. This is similar to Write-Invite, the on-line competition I take part in every Saturday at 5.30.

I so enjoyed writing on a Sunday and was pleased with the two stories. I shall look at them with a colder eye tomorrow of course. I don't usually write on Sundays, but today was different. Everyone was occupied and I wasn't needed for a while, so I didn't feel too guilty! And I had cooked and cleared up lunch, packed my husband's case for our holiday next week and typed up an itinerary for the holiday too. Apart from that, I was up at five this morning (insomniac) and wrote a poem. I'm thinking of entering the National Poetry Competition and wanted to have a try once the idea started niggling me in the chilly dawn. It went very well, but I don't know how I'll feel about it tomorrow. I really hope I still like it, but I think it will need lots of tweaking. So I'll be hunched over it in the early hours again. Poetry works best for me at that time.

I'm tired now, because when I realised I didn't need to feel guilty about neglecting the family on a Sunday, I started feeling guilty about sitting for so long. I could feel my backside spreading across the sofa. Brian, the cat, was looking disdainfully at me from the next cushion, as if he didn't have enough space. So I went on a mammoth bike-ride. Well, half an hour to the next village and back.

So I am now guilt-free. Except I am about to have a large glass of wine and watch TV.

My Day In Bristol

2010-07-19T00:58:00.000-07:00

I had the great privilege of meeting some writers on Saturday. Actually in the flesh! People like me, who fret about words and pound away at their keyboards and worry all the time about getting it right and learn to cope with rejection after rejection. And, on this one day, have a chance to meet each other and share that magical bond that binds them - the sheer love of writing.

It was so good to realise that we all have similar insecurities and self-doubts. We share broadly similar domestic lives that sometimes go awry, clouding the ability to write. We also feel the same joy when our writing goes well and is recognised with success.

We were in Bristol for the awards ceremony of the Bristol Short Story Prize. We all had a story published in the anthology and gathered for its launch. The first, second and third prize-winners were announced and the rest of us were genuinely delighted for them. There was such a warm and encouraging sense of kinship among us. And we were all shaking in case we won and had to make a speech. Everyone agreed we would rather write than speak publicly.

The winner, Valerie O'Riordan, richly deserved it. Her powerful story was just three hundred or so words. (The rest were the usual two to three thousand.) That tells you how good her story is. Every single word worked hard and she made them all count. It is a story that I will remember forever. It is a perfect example of the kind of writing that makes you hold your breath as you read it. Then it haunts you for a very long time. My elder daughters read it and turned pale. Congratulations, Valerie.

For me, just being there and part of the book was more than I ever thought I was capable of. I could hardly bear to look at my story in the book, but I've read and loved all the others over the weekend. I know I would want to change things and wish I'd done it differently here and there if I read mine now. I'm just grateful it's in there and hope people like it.

Apart from meeting people and having such a wonderful time with them, the other great thing that was that my husband and daughters were there with me too. They were so proud and happy and that meant more than anything. They've encouraged me to write from Day One and have been unwavering with their support.

It was one of the best days of my life. Thank you Bristol Prize!

Terrible Twins

2010-06-28T07:45:00.000-07:00

I am always intrigued by exceptions to rules and discovered one at the weekend. The guidelines for writers, particularly writers of magazine fiction, steer us clear of clichéd, well-worn story-lines, such as tampering with car brakes or mysterious behaviour turning out to be connected with a surprise party rather than an affair etc.. They also state that narrators shouldn't be animals and that anything to do with twins should be avoided.

I went to the theatre to see Blood Brothers on Saturday and the story hinges completely on twin-ship. You probably all know it, but the story concerns the separation of twins at birth. Their mother is poor, already has a brood of children, and has been abandoned by her husband. She cleans the house of a wealthy childless wife, desperate for a baby of her own. This woman talks the poor mother into giving up one twin. As their lives unfold, they meet and become blood brothers, unaware of their true relationship. Their lives run on different tracks with tragic consequences.

I loved the performance and enjoyed the story-line. I felt truly moved at the end. It made me wonder about clichés. I guess it's a case of giving them your own voice or a unique twist. Then you might have an exception to the guidelines/rules. Sometimes I dismiss ideas for stories because they seem a bit 'used'. Sometimes I receive rejection letters that state my theme was an old one and therefore of no interest. It can be hard to decide what is a cliché and what isn't. And if you think it might be one, you sometimes feel you've put a different spin on it. In which case, you should give it a try. It might be as successful as Blood Brothers one day.

And maybe it's Blood Brothers that began the twin-cliché in the first place. That's why they can get away with it and I can't. That's perhaps why they aren't a cliché. It's a shame because I often think about stories with twins and then have to discard them. I can recall a film about twins, in which Bette Davis played both parts. The twins were very different in personality and hair-do. It may have been a clichéd film, of course. But who decides?

Indoors, Outdoors

2010-06-16T01:15:00.000-07:00

My eldest daughter and her boyfriend have just finished their first year at university and plan to go camping. Last night they practised in the garden. We have a peculiar garden that is not attached to our ancient cottage, but is accessed by a long path and extends into the middle of the village, ending at the war memorial and the Stirrup Cup pub. One of our cats joined them down there for the night (surprised they were sleeping in his territory) and they were woken by a raucous dawn chorus this morning.

They have now emerged in one piece, are having breakfast and planning to go a bit further afield for their next night under canvas. My daughter and I remember a book we both read years ago, Four Rode Home by Primrose Cumming. A group of people and their horses are dropped off many miles from home and make their way back, riding all day and sleeping under the stars with the trusty ponies tethered to trees. My daughter would love to ride and camp like that; living life outside and concentrating only on the journey, the daily destination, the next meal, the building of camp-fires and the care of her horse.

If I went on a trek like that, I would probably find so much to inspire my writing and my mind would surely clear itself of mundane distractions. I would focus on my imagination, fired by the beauty of the great outdoors. However, I am a terrible home-body. I crave the great indoors and home comforts as much as my daughter loves the freedom of the world outside. Even as a baby, she only slept well outside in the fresh air, tucked into the pram and protected from cats by a net in the old-fashioned way. I love nothing more than to be at the kitchen table writing. Going outside doesn't come at all naturally to me, but I'm sure I should make the effort. Perhaps I'm just lazy. Or maybe a little agoraphobic? All I know is that when I go out, I can't wait to be back inside again.

I still love reading about other people's great adventures beyond their front doors. I shall dig out Four Rode Home and enjoy the ride that way. In the meantime, I am full of joy at the sparkling eyes of my daughter following her 'night out'. She has been ill for two years, so her renewed energy is a sign that she is now stepping out on the road to recovery.

The Scenic Route

2010-06-07T03:57:00.000-07:00

I am so pleased that one of my stories has been included on a shortlist for the Bristol Short Story Prize. All twenty stories in the shortlist will appear in the anthology. The first, second and third placings will be announced at an awards ceremony in July. I can't wait to see the book and read all the other stories.

The one I sent was quite unusual. I managed to think far outside the box when I wrote it. As Meg Rosoff said, it is helpful to place yourself on the edge of experience, allowing the outline of the story to become buckled. This warping of events can stop the reader in his tracks, turning a straightforward situation into an intriguing and unique set of circumstances.

The road I travelled during the making of this story had some odd diversions. They seemed like dead-ends at times, but then I twisted them back round and returned to the main track for a while. Then I went off at tangents again. I wasn't sure this scenic route would work, but I had an instinct that I should send the story. Fortunately, it was one of those times when instinct worked in my favour. A rare occurrence!

An Evening With Meg Rosoff

2010-05-15T00:13:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening, my middle daughter and I went to a book festival event in a lovely old Quaker meeting room. It was in an ancient building I have passed many times and at last I was in there. There was a warm and friendly atmosphere in there under the oak beams, not to mention home-made cakes.

We were there to listen to Meg Rosoff talk about writing. It was wonderful. She is down-to-earth and chatty, sparkly and intelligent. She said many things that I could relate to, but I was too shy, even when prompted, to mention that I was a writer when she asked if any of us wrote. I was just there to absorb her wisdom, I think, not talk about myself. And she was mesmerising company.

Her novel for adolescents, How I Live Now, is one of my favourite books. I couldn't put it aside once I started it. If I picked it up now, I would do nothing else all day but read it. My daughter prefers her other books and is just about to start reading The Bride's Farewell, the latest one. They are all very different, but Ms Rosoff does not consciously make these changes. She just sits down to write, without planning, which she loathes, and sees where the characters take her. She claims to be a bad plotter. Her books are character-led. She usually 'cheats', she says, by using the trusted themes of 'stranger comes to town' or 'a journey'. Her first successful novel, How I Live Now, unwittingly contained both!

She gets the first draft done quickly, so that she can feel the relief of having a beginning, middle and end. She can't wait to show this to her publisher, unpolished and rough though it is. After that, she loves working with words and weaving her own magic with the characters. She claims to be hard to live with because she doesn't like to stop writing, even to cook.

She told of a writer friend, who works in a little room upstairs in his house. When he realises he's wasting time on the internet or gazing out of the window, he imagines his characters sitting downstairs at his kitchen table, saying, "When are we going to do something? When can we get out of here?" The guilt at his neglect of them pulls him back to his writing.

She became an adolescent late, in her twenties, which may be a reason why she can appeal so well to that market. In America, her books are marketed to adults, however. American youth, she says, doesn't read books the way the English do. She is herself an American, who has chosen to live in London and clearly loves it. She meets other writers belonging to the London Writers' group on a regular basis for dinner, but they never talk about writing!

My Brother

2010-05-01T06:20:00.001-07:00

This weekend is the ninth anniversary of my brother's death. He was forty four. Making his way downstairs for a drink of water in the middle of the night, he stumbled and fell all the way down. Unconscious, unable to move, he was trapped in a small area of the hall of his tiny cottage, his chin down on his chest. His wife phoned the emergency services and was advised not to move him in case his neck was broken. However, there were no injuries. He died because he couldn't breathe in that position.

I recall having a slight disagreement with him on the phone three days before his death. He wanted to organise a surprise party for our mother's 75th birthday. He was very excited about the idea, as he always was with ideas like that. I said she would hate it, that she loathed being unprepared and having things sprung on her at the last minute. He was disappointed and I felt bad for deflating his plans. He was a little withdrawn when we said goodbye. But he rang again two days later and said he thought I was right. He was cheerful once more and I was so relieved that I hadn't hurt his feelings after all. That was the last conversation we had.

It is good not to let differences of opinion fester. I have been the world's worst at sulking with people when things don't go my way. But I try not to these days, because you don't know if the chance to speak to that person again will ever come. And I could never have forgiven myself if my lovely brother had died when we were at loggerheads with each other.

He had been having a troubled life, but it was finally coming together for him. He could be infuriating, but was also funny and kind. Once, to help me out, he fed mashed Weetabix and banana to my daughter when she was just about a year old. It was a labour of love because he was repulsed by banana. However, he was actually a little intoxicated at the time. He sat her in the highchair and spooned it all in. Eventually, he announced proudly, "There, she's eaten all that!" He was a bit too unsteady to unstrap her and lift her out. So I did that. And a mountain of mashed Weetabix and banana cascaded from her lap onto the carpet.

He helped with gardening and wallpapering. When we were short of money, he gave us his car for nothing. He had a mischievous sense of humour. There was always a sparkle in his very dark blue eyes. The only child he had was adopted, back in the seventies, because he and his girlfriend were only young at the time. He would have been the sweetest father.

He is often in my stories, or at least many of his characteristics are, and I love and miss him more than I could ever express.

(And at the funeral I discovered he'd already invited everyone to the surprise party before suggesting it to me!)

Sketching In Details

2010-04-15T04:41:00.000-07:00

Probably quite unwisely, we allow our eleven-year-old daughter to watch the hospital drama, House MD. She loves Hugh Laurie as Dr House and peppers her speech with medical terms, for example, "Can I have an MRI?" (She is quite serious when she says this) Or, "It's not Lupus."

Her love of Hugh Laurie led her to ask for a Fry and Laurie DVD set as an Easter present (as well as a small Easter egg.) I have been watching them with her, remembering them vaguely from the eighties, while she has been home from school for the Easter break. I have laughed a lot at the sketches, but the main thing I have gained from watching them (apart from realising she is also now in love with Stephen Fry) is that each comic sketch is just like a miniature short story.

They hook the viewer with either a shocking or entirely random start. They entertain well throughout the middle. Then there is often a twist or surprise to conclude, as well as, sometimes, a few satisfying loose ends to leave the viewer something to think about afterwards.

They are very imaginative when it comes to names and pay great attention to small, seemingly insignificant details. Just a change of tie or wig or accent or stance can alter their character substantially.

It all gave me an onslaught of ideas and reminded me how good it is to inject humour into stories. Mine are often dark and I so enjoy the funny ones. Yet they remain the hardest to pull off well. But what Fry and Laurie really taught me was that it's good to be bold, off-kilter, odd, puzzling. This will entice the viewer. Put a ordinary person into an unusual situation or an outlandish character into a 'normal' setting and you have a lure right from the start. Like those strange baits fishermen use for different sorts of catch.

I hope I can make my writing more visual by recalling the small points that bring these comedy sketches alive.

My daughter wants to watch some more while we have lunch on our laps. I'm sure that I shall come away inspired again and look forward to the writing that will hopefully follow.

Last Night's Scribble

2010-03-31T01:02:00.000-07:00

Do I follow every instinct? Have I the time to feel my way along darkish alleys that might be dead-ends? I say this because I thought yesterday that I had written a complete story. (I rarely think they are good. First I sense that they are finished. And that's quite a satisfying feeling. Then I go back again. At that point I might hate them. Or, with luck, I might actually smile at them.) Yesterday's story was beginning to make its way into my affections. It certainly had a completeness about it.

However, as I was falling asleep last night, I realised it needed another character. There had to be a woman in the background. A mysterious one, whom we may never meet face-to-face, but a flesh-and-blood woman nonetheless. She was vital, my instincts said, for the story to be lifted off the rather flat behind upon which it was currently sitting. She would put a little meat on its buttocks.

Now I am sitting here ready to make her. I have last night's scribbled notes to hand. And I'm dithering whether she is necessary after all. Should I go with last night's feelings? I might waste a whole morning. Am I just itching to start something new? Or shall I go with my gut instinct and then file her away if I don't like her after all? I shall continue to ponder...

She Who Hesitates...

2010-03-24T08:21:00.000-07:00

I have realised that if you find yourself hesitating when writing, you should go ahead and write it anyway. It's possibly something essentially good and you might be holding back through fear or shyness. You have to overcome that reluctance to reveal yourself on paper.

Don't think, 'I can't write that! People will be shocked or repulsed or disapproving. Or they might laugh.' You need a reaction, otherwise there's nothing to elicit a gasp or a giggle from your readers.

You can always delete things at the next edit. So let them go in at first. Then look coldly at what you've written the next time you revise it and you will know if it's good or not. It might mean that you can't send it to the publication you had intended it for. You have perhaps added things that render it unsuitable. But there is always somewhere else where it will find a home.

So, if you hesitate, write it anyway! You'll find out in time if it was worth it. And sometimes it is! Write as though no one is going to read it. And if you find yourself gasping/giggling, then you'll be sure you've got something good.

New Chapters

2010-03-19T04:01:00.000-07:00

Well I didn't get into the last ten with the Fish Prize, but the disappointment lasted only a few minutes. I remembered that I was overwhelmed and ecstatic to reach the shortlist. I hadn't expected to get that far. The story in question has been tweaked and hopefully improved this morning and is now winging its way to another competition. And I shall keep packing it up and sending it off until it earns its keep somewhere. I am excited about its fate once again!

Never say die. A new beginning awaits this story. Also, I can't wait to see the Fish anthology so that I can read the top ten and learn from them all. I know they will be very special indeed. I am certain I shall see why mine was not among them. I'll try to read them first as a reader, then as a writer. I sometimes make notes when I read a story that I really love. There are some I have particularly admired which are smothered in stripes of highlighter pen and have comments in the margin. I look back at these sometimes to give myself a lesson in good writing.

Mood Music

2010-03-16T02:15:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I write to music in the background and I find that the type of music I choose affects the way I write.

If I am sure of the genre beforehand, I can choose the music to fit the writing. On the other hand, if a particular piece of music appeals to me first, I can let it lead me somewhere unknown and full of surprises. I think that is my preference. I like to have no plan, just ideas inspired by the music.

I use this method for the flash-fiction competition that I take part in on Saturdays. I start the music as I begin to write and let it take me away. That might be a dark place if it's the theme music from Twin Peaks, for example. But if I choose my beloved tacky supermarket music, then some humour will come into the piece. Classical music makes my writing calmer, deeper, somehow more emotional. And, as I mentioned in an earlier post, Brian Eno's Music For Airports is a favourite, very unobtrusive and therefore ideal for moments of intense concentration.

A CD I love at the moment is Dark Was The Night. It has an odd assortment on it, by a variety of artists I have never heard of. But somehow it is inspiring and keeps my imagination vivid. Maybe it's the strange mixture of different styles and tempo.

There are times when I prefer silence. Or I'm so engrossed that I don't stop to think about music. I just keep writing, oblivious of anything going on in the background. But I feel at my best and most productive when it's playing and especially when it blends into the words, so that story and music merge.

A Story Writing Itself

2010-03-09T02:26:00.000-08:00

Just taking a tea break from a story that is writing itself. I'm not complaining, but it can be daunting when that happens. The two characters will wait for me, I hope.

They are so real that I feel them here in this room, leading me. I can almost smell them. I had to distance myself briefly. I feel a little hunted down.

My fingers were flying over the keys in quite an unsettling way, as though I had less control than usual. I know it's a good thing and will be satisfying when it's finished. I hope it's good. Often these stories that whisk you off on a long journey turn out well.

The editing required is normally intensive, but this time it seems to be editing itself as well, as I go along. An exhausting process, but I love the two people very much and am intrigued to see how it ends. They haven't told me yet.

Haiti

2010-03-04T01:45:00.000-08:00

The Haiti book is published today. I wonder how Greg McQueen feels? He is the man who began it all just a few weeks ago. It has happened so fast. It was pretty straightforward to submit a story, but the work involved in putting the book of a hundred together must have felt endless and stressful at times too.

So well done to Greg and let's hope a lot of copies are sold. I'm looking forward to mine!

Hopes And Dreams

2010-02-28T21:37:00.000-08:00

I am excited today, because it is March. The Haiti book is published this week and I can't wait to see it. I keep imagining holding it in my hands. That new book feel and new book smell! It will be very special.

There are also a few competition results due soon. I am really pleased to be on the Fish Short Story Prize short list. Two of mine reached the long list, which was massively thrilling. But when one of them moved into the short list, I was somewhat jubilant. It's a story that's a particular favourite and I had hoped it would do well somewhere. But I didn't realise it was good enough to find a place on this particular list. The winning stories are announced on the 17th, so I won't be able to help daydreaming. However, I shall still be delighted with the progress the story has made, even if it goes no further. And, as I've always said, if you believe in a story, it will succeed somewhere else. Just knowing that someone has liked it enough to keep it in contention, from 1800 entries down to the final 140, is good enough for me.

There are one or two other results due this month and I also have a lot of stories with magazines, which may notify me soon. One way or the other, it's good to know the fate of a story. The successes are always going to mean incredible joy. The rejections mean a twinge of disappointment, followed by sleeve-rolling, tweaking and re-submitting with all the fresh hope that brings.

Haiti

2010-02-14T23:44:00.000-08:00

I am pleased to have one of my stories in 100 Stories For Haiti, £11.99, Bridge House Publishing.

The earthquake victims will be helped if people buy the book. I feel slightly less selfish about wanting to be a writer now that I have contributed to this.

Writing is a solitary and single-minded thing to do. Writers can become obsessed and insular. They feel guilty giving so much time and attention to writing, especially when it isn't easy to make a living out of it. The creative rewards are always there for the writer, but it is nice to see that sometimes the financial rewards can be there for other people as well.

Ignore The Dull Voice

2009-12-10T04:08:00.001-08:00

Confidence is a matter of squashing the inner voice that tells you everyone else is better. It's a tedious voice and best ignored. It is not actually a real voice and has no entity of its own. It is separate from your wonderful brain that is capable of all sorts of things.

So which would you rather listen to?

I am choosing my own wonderful brain, which has a much more melodious voice than the tedious one.

Have confidence in your own self. Don't listen to nagging voices that are unreal and dull. Dullness being the biggest crime of all. After all, you wouldn't stop and pay attention to a person who wasn't there, would you?

Tomorrow

2009-11-29T12:56:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow is another day. That is what you have to say when you think you have become dreadful at writing.

That is how I feel today. But, as I have said many times, you have to keep believing you will make it. There really is no such thing as writer's block. And you must remember your successes and remind yourself that you will do it again soon. Patience is the key. Along with self-belief. Everyone has bad days, moments of doubt and lapses in their self-confidence.

Think about it tomorrow.

Centre Spread

2009-11-18T22:54:00.000-08:00

The main body of the action and the development of the main characters takes place in the middle. That's when everything and everyone comes to life. There are diversions and tangents, but they must all be relevant to the theme and also help to move the plot along towards the conclusion.

A lot is said about the importance of beginnings and endings, but the middle is vital too. It's no good having an arresting opening and then it all sinks like an ill-mixed sponge cake in the middle. Then the reader won't reach the wonderful ending. And the brilliant beginning will be forgotten. It's awful to promise much, but deliver little. Far better to have an intriguing start from which a Pandora's box of delights is revealed as you read on, before coming to the great exciting final paragraphs.

When the middle is finished, you might chop some of the opening. It may seem far too banal once you have found out just how thrilling the rest of the story is. However, the writer who plans in advance might be more aware of the forthcoming action, so his beginnings will be more appropriate. But I write as I go, so I never know if the start will be any good until I've finished the middle.

The middle is sometimes frustrating, as you realise there are different ways in which the story can go. I started one that was destined for a women's magazine, but it is now unsuitable for that market because, once I'd reached the middle section, it was off and running in a totally different direction altogether. it will probably be sent to a competition instead.

See where the middle takes you, but never let the interest flag. Adjust the opening to suit the rest. Never forget your theme - that is absolutely essential and will keep you on the right path.

Loose Talk

2009-11-02T06:00:00.000-08:00

Why is it that when I'm talking, I can muddle my words, forget the thread of what I'm saying and generally sound incoherent, especially when emotional or uncertain? But writing is different. It flows, ideas are woven in, threads are gathered and tied in beautiful bows and the finished piece is an achievement to treasure.

I suppose it's partly because I know I can change words, delete chunks, swap paragraphs around and cut out beginnings and turn them into endings or make page three into page six if I like. Every letter is malleable. And only by my hand. You can't take things back in conversation with others.

And it's also partly because I'm on my own. No one can chip in, disagree or talk over me. It is total control. The only boundary is my own imagination. And that is one of the few large things about me.

Love Your Successes

2009-11-01T01:50:00.000-07:00

Well, you never know what's coming! I returned from a week in Ireland to find a copy of a magazine with my story in it under a new title, two cheques for accepted, yet-to-be-published stories and an email telling me I'd won £100 first prize in a short-story competition! Plus another winning story in the weekly online flash-fiction competition, WriteInvite, that I take part in on a regular basis.

The prizes/income are great, but the thrill of seeing your name there is better! Never give up, because the more you participate, the more chances there are for success. You won't get read just because you write. You must send it out there and let it have the opportunity to be seen. Lots of your work won't be successful, but some will. And it's the successes that count. No one is keeping a tally of near-misses or also-rans. They really shouldn't get you down. Log all the rejections, so that they can be re-marketed. But log the winning stuff too, so you can see at a glance how well you've done.

By the way, the £100-first-prize story I mentioned had been rejected three times before!

The Pressure Is On

2009-10-19T06:59:00.000-07:00

I feel under pressure. My stories must now be as good or better than the last one accepted. Otherwise the editor of the magazine who has kindly believed in my writing ability may lose faith! That's how I view it. I don't wish to disappoint someone who has shown such faith in me.

Every story is now cross-examined by my very critical self. It is still my normal self doing the first few drafts, writing happily and from the heart. Then the other half becomes nervous and picks away at them.

When they are sent off, it is with trepidation. I try not to have any hope for them at all. I believe they will be rejected and then, if a lovely email or letter arrives asking to purchase the story, I am insanely happy and completely surprised.

So, don't go thinking it is hard to have received no acceptances at all yet. You are in a good position, because you have everything to play for and nothing to live up to. As long as you persevere, you will get there and that's when it gets hard!

Published!

2009-10-14T02:00:00.000-07:00

Today I saw one of my stories in a magazine. I checked some new weeklies in Tesco, flicking to the index just to see if I was there yet, having sold a few stories in recent months. And there I was!

I have to say it was a great surprise and I'm feeling all pleased and motivated to write even more. I've got a lot to live up to now. The pressure is on. Can I repeat this success? I hope so and it makes me more determined than I was before.

So off to work on a new story now without delay!

Mistakes

2009-10-12T01:04:00.000-07:00

It has occurred to me that the plots of short stories often rely on mistakes. The main character usually has a conflict, which is resolved by the end, sometimes satisfactorily, sometimes not. Sometimes everything is neatly tied and sometimes there are loose ends to give the reader food for thought.

However, these conflicts are often simple misunderstandings, crossed wires, mistakes made by the MC. For example, I have just finished reading a good story in which the MC, a married woman, feels attracted to a married colleague. She makes the error of believing that he feels the same. Carried away, she makes her feelings known to him - another mistake - and is gently but firmly rebuffed. Later she realises her major error was to believe she was genuinely attracted to him. She observes him closely when enough time has passed for her blunder to be less embarrassing. She sees that he is ordinary, mortal, dull even. Her passion was the stuff of a romantic novel or piece of music. Her husband and family are her real love.

This story worked because of the conflict - should she make a play for him or not? But it worked particularly well because of the series of mistakes. I think we like reading about mistakes. They reflect humanity starkly and we can justify ourselves. Aren't we always making mistakes? The awful reality that she cannot hide her awkward error from the man and has to live with the shame strikes a chord with us all. We have all done or said something embarrassing. We share her blushes and feel better about our own.

Allow characters to be foolish. We are all foolish. But how we deal with that idiocy can be inspiring and make an excellent tale.

On Top Of The Spreadsheets

2009-10-09T07:04:00.001-07:00

I have devoted a day to sorting out my spreadsheet, which shows all my submissions, with dates, destinations and so on. It includes the dates when competition winners are announced and I noticed this morning that several of those dates had arrived. And I'd heard nothing!

It was disappointing to check through all those entries which clearly haven't made it and colour the boxes red, which denotes 'rejection'. It was a sea of red by the time I'd finished. A River Of Blood! However, I began to shrug off the misery and revel in the prospect of remarketing all these stories that I'd half-forgotten. Some had real possibilities elsewhere. For many, it had been only their first trip out. So there were further opportunities for all of these rejected favourites. I was surprised by how much I still believed in them.

This week, I have also been invited to proof-read a successful story for an anthology, in readiness for publication in the near future. That particular story had had its fair share of rejection too, before achieving this welcome final destination. I am proud of it.

If you retain this pride in your stories and are prepared to keep dusting them down, then they will make it in the end. I have let one or two fester for a bit, having sent them out four times each, but even they will resurface once the right market presents itself.

However, it is only because I have taken a lot of time with my spreadsheet, keeping it up-to-date and tidy, that I can monitor all my stories, especially now there are so many. A system is vital, otherwise you will forget what you have written, where you have sent it, when it winged its way back, when it was accepted, when to expect competition feedback etc. You could even include details such as word-count. I started doing that, but kept forgetting to update it whenever I tweaked a story.

However you do it, on a computer, on paper, a card-index file or on the back of an envelope, make sure you keep on top of it and make it work for you.

Warm

2009-10-08T01:25:00.000-07:00

I have just read a story which won a competition twelve years ago. It is technically imperfect. There are some grammatical flaws and some odd syntax. However, this story proves that it is the fiction that matters.

It was so gripping, so warm and led me in so fast that the occasional lapse of punctuation ceased to bother me. I wanted to be right there in the house with the main character. In fact, I was the main character for a while. She had been so well-written that she came to life on the page. It was like a hand reaching out of the paper and pulling me in.

As is often the case, it was a simple tale and very little happened. The setting and characterisation were both so strong that the action, the simple giving and receiving of a gift, didn't have to be thrilling or earth-shattering.

These stories which exude warmth are special. So many, including mine, are filled with angst and misery. Often the element of humour is missing, yet it is so good to find yourself laughing out loud at a piece of fiction. It is rather an unexpected feeling when you come across a story that you read with a smile on your face. I must write more humorous tales!

Pushing Hard

2009-10-05T10:52:00.000-07:00

Today I pushed and pushed myself to keep writing, even though I was tired and could think of easier things to do. I really enjoyed it once I'd realised that I was actually going to make myself do it. It's a lot nicer than having a separate boss driving you on.

I was so pleased with myself and praised me more than any other boss would have done. I had a very self-satisfied smile on my face throughout the day and hope I shall have many more days like this. It is easier once you've passed the moment where you think you can't possibly continue.

It was good productive work too. Somehow my brain went into a creative overdrive and the ideas were bursting out. Perhaps all the pushing liberates a flow that doesn't get tapped at other times.

So, if you're tired and thinking up excuses not to write, push hard. Chain yourself mentally to the chair and don't stop until you absolutely have to because of other commitments.

Get A Grip!

2009-10-01T02:03:00.000-07:00

I was very excited by an acceptance for a story that I had sent out three times. At last it was going to be published and I was excited and delighted. It kept me writing well for the rest of that day. I write best when I'm happy about something.

Then in the late evening I was emailed two rejections at once. I came plummeting down to earth. The next morning, instead of still feeling elated about the sale, I felt gloomy about the other two. It was a glass-half-empty morning.

Then I got a grip. I dusted down the two rejects and tweaked them for a new market. I sent them both off and did some editing. Then, despite the cloud still hovering above my head, I started a new story. Then, as the cloud thinned a little, I chased a story up. Hated doing this, but kept the query polite and brief. The result was a kind reply promising to look into it, followed by a prompt email telling me it was being slow because it was on a shortlist!

The cloud vanished instantly and the day remained very bright indeed. However, I think it wasn't just the good news about the shortlist that helped, although that had a massive amount to do with it, it was the fact that I kept on working, pushing, trying, progressing with my writing. I didn't wallow. Well, not for long.

So the advice is simple - get a grip!

Keeping Going

2009-09-28T04:51:00.000-07:00

There are lots of competitions with results due soon. I am hopeful and not a little excited about these, but realise I have to be realistic. I haven't been writing for that long yet, and I'm competing with experienced writers. Although I still stand a chance, and I have had some work published already, there are wonderfully tight, well-wrought stories in these international contests. Many are going to be better than mine.

I'm not being defeatist or over-critical of myself. I'm good, but I need to keep getting better. I read the stories which are selected, those amazing few out of many hundreds, and I marvel at them.

The important thing is to learn what I can from these stories and use it. Clever themes, wonderful characters, smooth plots, solid structure and joyous pacing. I'm going to absorb it all. Then I'll be in with a chance. The work never stops.

Masterpieces

2009-09-18T04:30:00.000-07:00

Paintings are very good for igniting story ideas. I have just read a short story based on the shoes worn by a lady in a beautiful painting. The shoes are the starting point and the rest of the painting is featured throughout.

Try looking at paintings. Home in on a small detail and create the story from there. Your words will be like brush strokes, adding depth and colour as you build up the piece. Imagine yourself an artist. Which, indeed, you are.

Always There

2009-09-15T10:59:00.000-07:00

I need to be happy to write. But when I'm sad, I anticipate all the enjoyment I will have when I start to write again.

It's essential to have things to look forward to. That's why we plan holidays. move house, celebrate Christmas, visit friends. All these things can give us a lift and cheer us up. Sometimes the thought of them is more cheering than the occasion itself. I like Christmas Eve, with all its magic and secrets, even more then Christmas Day.

So I'm glad to have my writing, because it's always there waiting for me.

Friends Indeed

2009-09-14T07:31:00.000-07:00

Try thinking about two friends or relations who are completely different from each other. Then put them together in an unusual setting. So you could have your timid Auntie May with your bawdy old school friend Valerie trapped in a lift together, for example.

You now have two main characters and a problem to solve within a defined space. What more do you need? Just start writing about them, drawing on your knowledge of these people. Change their names to spare embarrassment if you think it's appropriate.

Remember, you don't have to make these people exact copies of their real-life counterparts. No one's going to come and check your work and give you ticks for accuracy. Let your imagination soar. The real-life bit is just to get you started.

Mollie Panter-Downes

2009-09-13T01:36:00.000-07:00

I have just discovered this amazing writer. My husband chose her book of short stories as a birthday present forme. It's called Good Evening Mrs Craven and is a selection of wartime stories.

Character is the important thing. She is objective and observant, like the journalist that she was. She is always distanced from her characters and there is no self -indulgence here. There are no first-person narratives. There is a strongly domestic feel and setting, as her characters try to keep going during these difficult years. There is no melodrama or gushing, but plenty of irony and light comedy.

There is realism in these stories, which fits the times so well. War brings a sense of unreality, so her fiction works brilliantly against this backdrop. We are always dealing with the onset or the aftermath of serious events, never with their brutality. There are no bloody scenes. The 'events' are the psychological changes brought about by the anticipation or the after-effects of wartime happenings.

All the pieces are wonderful chunks of home-life and how people reacted, coped, changed and suffered. I love them all and now can't wait to read her peace-time stories too.

Tell Me More!

2009-09-11T08:41:00.000-07:00

I had notification that a story shortlisted for a women's magazine had not been successful after all. Fair enough. At least they let me know. I can send it somewhere else. However, what made it a great rejection was that they went a bit further than most. They said that to reach the shortlist, stories had to be of the highest quality. So my story went a long way and was close to being chosen. I was encouraged to keep sending more stories to them.

This is so helpful and makes writers feel motivated to keep going. It is more than a brush-off. Much more. It is the next best thing to an acceptance.

So, rejections can be almost painless if there is some positive feedback on offer at the same time.

Hang On, I've Got An Idea

2009-09-10T04:03:00.000-07:00

Ideas can come from everywhere, literally. Television programmes, radio plays and interviews, conversations, especially overheard ones, people-watching (spend regular sessions in Costa and have paper and pencil with you), long walks, both in towns and the countryside, shopping trips and leisure centre visits, both as participant and spectator.

Always have an eye and an ear open for story material. It's like collecting scraps of fabric for a patchwork bedspread. They don't look like much individually, but each piece helps to make an amazing finished item. The colour or pattern of one square might inspire a theme for the entire bedspread.

So cherish those odd one-liners and chunks of chat or gossip. Note down clothes, colours, perfumes, pie-fillings, sunsets, storms and whatever else you spot on your travels. Then knit some of them together in your stories for a unique style all of your own.

Great things can grow from bits and pieces. So be observant and never dismiss anything as irrelevant. Some striking imagery, born from a casual observation one day, could catch a judge's eye and lift your competition work up higher than everyone else's.

Entitled

2009-09-09T11:05:00.000-07:00

Titles matter. Take time to consider them. They are the first thing that the reader will see. It may be that the decision whether or not to like the story from the outset is made upon seeing the title.

One word can be effective, but ensure it is explosive.Two words can be a little dull. Lots of stories have a two word title and often it's a case of Samuel's Day or Autumn Leaves. A bit uninventive.

If you add a third word, it livens up. So you could have Samuel's Magical Day or Red Autumn Leaves. Or make it much more exciting - Samuel's Final Day or Black Autumn Leaves. These last two are more suggestive and might encourage to read on with more interest.

So remember that titles are vitals.

Editing - Pain Or Pleasure?

2009-09-08T05:43:00.000-07:00

I have just edited a story destined for The Writers And Artists Yearbook competition. I had left it to fester for some weeks while nestled in the sofa watching Project Runway with my daughters during the wet days of their summer holiday.

Tackling it was a joy. I had been dreading it, because I was pleased with the first and second drafts. That meant I was likely to loathe it third time round. There were certainly plenty of silly things to delete and a scattering of pretentious adverbs to throw out. But, all in all, it was a lovely task, because I still liked the story so much. And it's another story in the pipeline. If it doesn't succeed, then it will stand a great chance somewhere else.

It also spawned further ideas for new stories, which is a good tip for fresh ideas - look at all your old stories so far. Take one or two a day. Is there a character you are fond of or a setting which you have conveyed well? Can you use them again in another story? I have re-used a character from my novel in a short story and recreated a setting based very loosely on what I know of North Carolina (which isn't very much). The stories are new, but are inspired by these old friends.

Don't Let It End

2009-09-06T23:42:00.000-07:00

I know the exact moment that I realise how much I love a story written by someone else. That moment comes when I stop reading because I don't want it to end.

I pause, then restart, reading more slowly. I savour every word, reluctant to let go, longing to create a story as gripping as this next time I sit down to write. Sometimes I look back at the beginning, in order to keep the end at bay for longer. I work through it again, trying to guess, without actually wanting to, what the outcome will be.

When I reach the end, I hope I won't be disappointed. Often I love it. Occasionally I feel slightly let down, cheated out of my high expectations.

The problem for my own writing is that I race through it when I edit. I feel almost embarrassed, as if this can't possibly be any good. Thankfully I'm often surprised and pleased with it on the whole. I remind myself that the whole point of this is to find mistakes and make improvements. I can't expect the perfection I find in other people's work. I'm always my own harshest critic.

I hope that one day, perhaps after putting a story away for a while, I shall read one of mine and slow right down, putting off the end until the last moment.

Strands

2009-09-06T01:50:00.000-07:00

Stories are made of strands. They are woven in a way that may seem tangled to you, the writer, at times. It is your job to separate them satisfactorily for the ending to work. That way, you have a smooth conclusion that sorts out the interwoven, overlapping pieces.

You can keep notes, as they occur to you. Always bear in mind that the story needs to progress, so if a good idea for the plot occurs to you, make a note. It is another strand.

Don't be afraid to have lots of strands. But they must all be essential to the action. Make them work. Make sure they weave together amd leave out the ones that are too tangled to be helpful. Just get the scissors and chop it. Hack it about a bit and keep any interesting messes to look at another time for another story.

Fitting In

2009-09-05T03:24:00.000-07:00

Do you write to suit a particular market or do you write what you like and then see which market the finished story fits?

I tend to launch in and it becomes apparent at some point which market the piece is leaning towards. Then I feel extra confident, because I know where I'm heading. I don't usually decide in advance that I'm going to write a story for a particular publication unless there's a competition with a strict brief about style and content. For example, Writers' Forum magazine have run competitions to write for Woman's Weekly and People's Friend, for example. These are fun to enter for a change.

It adds variety to have rules occasionally and it's good discipline. Then you can enjoy the freedom to write however you like afterwards.

Overcrowding and Gatecrashers

2009-09-03T23:41:00.000-07:00

A simple way to cure a short story of confusion is to kill characters.

If you are in a room full of people at a party, it is impossible to circulate among them all and have adequate conversations with each one. We try at the beginning to do this and then settle for the couple or group with whom we feel most comfortable. Then the party becomes manageable and more enjoyable. You know your company and you care about them because, despite the crowded room, they are all you have. You have effectively blocked out the rest as far as meaningful communication is concerned. You will leave at the end of the evening without having spoken to many of them, but it doesn't matter. They have been busy with their own 'chosen few'.

So if your current story lacks clarity, try ignoring a few people. There may be too many. Two or three is normally enough. If you have more than four, then consider whether that is overcrowding your venue. Could you merge two together? Ditch one or two completely without ruining the plot? Will the reader actually care about all of these people?

Keep any favourites in a notebook or file them for future use. Resurrect them when they can fit in somewhere else.

Make it a select gathering by invitation only. Gatecrashers aren't welcome.

I'm Good

2009-09-03T00:43:00.000-07:00

It's a great thing to believe in and congratulate yourself. Praise won't always be forthcoming from others. So award it to yourself. What reason have you got to withhold it?

I may receive rejections. I may experience weeks without acceptances. Without anything. But that doesn't mean I throw in the towel. I'm still good. I'd always rather count my successes and revisit them than wallpaper the room with my rejections. It's best to learn from those and then move on. A rejection is a fresh chance somewhere else.

But I don't want to dwell on rejection today. Today is for remembering that I'm good at writing. I can do it and, more importantly, I love doing it. In fact, I'm brilliant at it and I always will be. Although I look forward to improving every day, I still want to celebrate how good I am now. I don't mean I'll have a party and ask the guests to tell me I'm fantastic. I mean that I will not let myself down with doubts. I will boost my own ego. I do that better than anyone else.

Doubts are destructive. Only listen to them if they relate to whether or not you are actually enjoying the writing. If you doubt the enjoyment of it, then try to decide if stopping would make you feel happier and more free.

If you love it, then keep going. And tell yourself you're good. Don't wait to hear it from anyone else. They're all too busy with their own egos. And rightly so.

Writing about Anything

2009-09-02T06:35:00.000-07:00

Write letters, lists or just simple nonsense on those days when you are short of time. A few words could provide inspiration for tomorrow. Just jot down your thoughts, feelings at that moment or dreams from the night before.

Your letter doesn't need to be sent and your list doesn't have to be used. In fact, it would be better to keep it all fictitious. That way you are certain to write without inhibition. In fact, the odder the better. Write without shyness or shame.

Then, tomorrow, you will have a way into a new story. It might just be a name or a setting or a paragraph. But any one of these is a start. And a start is all that is needed. Once you have that, you can move on into the story.

Or you might find that you have a trigger for the middle or the ending. Why not begin there? No rule exists that says you have to begin at the beginning.

Chapters

2009-08-31T23:43:00.000-07:00

I like chapters. When I read a novel, I like reaching the end of a chapter if it brings me to a momentous point in the story. I can put the book down at this convenient pause and look forward to the next piece of action.

However, I find the start of a new chapter daunting. It is fine if the action does continue from where it paused, but if the setting or viewpoint changes, it can dislodge me and make me feel unsettled until, inevitably, I plunge back into it as if there had been no break at all.

I think this means that new beginnings are difficult to penetrate. I have to get under the skin of the story all over again. Perhaps I treat a new chapter as a complete new story.

And do short stories have concealed chapters? When we construct a fresh paragraph, are we bringing in a change of focus or a new venue or a different direction? I don't think so. I think short fiction has to flow. There is no room for deviation or a sudden new face or an unaccustomed voice. My favourite stories take place in one shop, one cafe, one riverside or one room. There are usually only two or three characters. There is a brief time span - perhaps a day, an afternoon, an hour.

A complete story has no chapters and is not itself a chapter.

More Than Short

2009-08-31T03:33:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking about the title of a volume of short stories I bought recently. It is entitled 'Complete Stories'.

I believe that 'complete' is a better description than merely 'short'. Anyone can see at a glance that a story is short. It is clearly not a novel. It has eight or ten or maybe twenty pages, rather than two or three hundred. But that doesn't make it an extract or a chapter of a bigger piece. It must be entire within itself. A miniature novel, if you like.

This is why shorter-length fiction is so challenging. You cannot waste words. Everything counts. You have to entertain as much as a novelist does, but in a much smaller time span. A short piece is often a simple snapshot of the main character's life, but it must still have a valuable opening, tension-building middle and satisfying ending. All in a couple of thousand words or even less.

If it reads as incomplete, then you have not succeeeded, whereas a novel can be incomplete even after fifty thousand or more words. There is still space to move the action on and bring in surprises, even new characters as long as they are not central to the plot. You can write another thirty to fifty thousand words and the lengthof the novel will be acceptable.

But short stories need to be whole within a far tinier margin. It's a massive challenge!

Writing With Fear

2009-08-30T03:52:00.000-07:00

I started a story yesterday with no idea where it would go. It was terrifying. It was a story for the WriteInvite website, which I mentioned in a previous post. There was half an hour to write the story as usual, but I launched in without a coherent thought in my head. I've done this before and I've said that it is better to write straight from the heart without too much thinking.

However, there are occasions when the fear overcomes me and I find I am writing totally blindly. There are no signposts in my head at all and I couldn't see them even if there were. I have no notion of the next word, let alone the next sentence.

But all I have to do is remain positive. I have to know it will work out, so that is what I believe. I don't work hard to convince myself. If I did that, I would be wasting the energy I need to use for the writing. I just tell myself, quietly and firmly, that all will be well. And it always is.

My story yesterday soon took on a shape of its own. I went along with it, stayed with it and focused closely on it for the full half-hour, submitting it with seconds to spare. I let the writing lead me and that's the best way.

I was satisfied and surprised by the finished result. It was a complete tale with a beginning, middle and end. There was ambiguity at the end, but it was still a good conclusion, leaving the reader with something to think about. The opening was intriguing and there was some nice imagery, as well as some humour, in the middle. I was happy with it.

So always accept the fear and stay in the story, letting it form without being distracted by terror!

Families Again

2009-08-28T23:33:00.000-07:00

Sometimes momentous events oocur and family life is thrown off balance for a while. I can't write about these happenings at all. It's too current and too raw.

Writers are always being told, "You've got plenty of material there," whenever there's a family upheaval. Not so. It's not 'material'. It's real and it's taking place now.

I rarely bring family trauma into my writing, other than small issues and memories from my childhood. Anything that happens with my husband and daughters is very close to home, it is home, and therefore separate from my fictional world. And that's the way it is. It seems wrong for others to assume that my family concerns are immediate fodder for the next story

Families

2009-08-28T01:52:00.000-07:00

Families say and do remarkable things, amusing things, emotive things and, sometimes, exasperating things too. But it is wonderful to note these things down, not just for the purpose of family records, but for your writing.

Keep a book for the purpose and take it everywhere with you. Look at your collection of anecdotes from time to time and you will be amazed at how inspirational they are. I have a daughter who backpacked around eastern Europe with her boyfriend, having adventures; another who comes out with incredibly sweet and funny pronouncements -"A fossil is a memory of an animal who has died." And yet another who asks constantly, "What if...?" Her 'what ifs?' are always far-fetched and convoluted, a great starting point for a story.

These are just a few examples of many lovely family moments/stories which can be a starting-point for fantastic fiction.

Stretching And Shrinking

2009-08-27T04:23:00.000-07:00

It is good fun to increase the size of a story. I have changed a 1000-word story to a 1400-word one today and really enjoyed having the freedom to add some fresh details. It is definitely bigger and better now. It was rejected by one magazine, requesting 1000-word submissions, but I spotted the potential for enlarging it to suit another publication.

It was easy to insert a little extra dialogue here and there and all of those 400 words gave the piece more sparkle. After all, I was already very familiar with my characters - they were like old friends - so it was a way of reacquainting with them and extending previous conversations.

It is also enjoyable to shrink a story. I love winkling out the unnecessary words, or even sentences, and tidying the whole thing up. It feels neat and polished. It is also satisfying to check the word count and discover that you have reached the desired total.

Occasionally, I have increased a rejected story, had it turned down again, decreased it for a new market, had another rejection, then re-increased it for a third try!

Never be afarid of stretching or shrinking your fiction. It is a living, breathing, flexible creation. It is not set in stone.

Growing Your Own Tree

2009-08-26T00:54:00.000-07:00

Fairy tales are a good place to start if you need plot ideas. I should think most of the basic plots for short stories are contained within the works of the Brothers Grimm.

I have just begun to read The Juniper Tree by Barbara Comyns. This is adapted from a Grimm tale and makes a wonderful, absorbing story. She has taken the characters and plot from the original and made it her own. However, the setting is different. The atmosphere and tension and pace are her own creation too. It is menacing and macabre. I love it.

There is nothing wrong with using a plot that has already worked well for another writer. I noticed a winning story in a magazine competition, which was very similar to one of my own, a previous winner in the same publication. But I didn't mind. I was flattered. The new story was still the author's work, his style, his choice of vocabulary. He had been inspired by mine, rather than merely copying it. Without doubt, I had been inspired in a similar way when I wrote my story. In fact, I remember well the novel which planted the first seeds.

We all grow our own ideas from ground cultivated by others. But, as long as we choose to use our own voice, the new work of fiction we create will be fresh and unique.

Jumbles

2009-08-24T23:08:00.000-07:00

My current story is jumbled. I know what the theme and plot are. At least, I'm fairly sure of those. However, the action is messy and there is confusion in my mind. Therefore, the reader will be puzzled too.

However twisty you want your story to be, ultimately there has to be no lack of clarity. You can leave the reader wanting more, but you cannot leave them with uncertainty. You can lead them down different paths, but they can't be blind alleys. There has to be a main road (your theme) and all the tangent paths leading away from it (your plot) must also allow you back again, however much of a loop they take you on first.

Rollercoasters are a mixture of fun and fear. They throw you around at an amazing pace, but you enjoy them only beacause you know you will be brought safely back down to earth at the end. However many times you get on, you always want to be sure you will climb off feeling delighted with the experience, not left up there, dangling and abandoned.

Stories are the same. Don't leave the reader in a state of neglect and bewilderment.

Tales Of The Unexpected

2009-08-24T08:35:00.000-07:00

Out of the blue, an idea can come. And it's very exciting, so keep hold of it and don't lose it! If a plot is floundering or a character is feeling flat, wait for inspiration while you work on other stories. It will come when it's ready. But don't wait around doing nothing. Keep on writing.

This morning, I suddenly realised how to increase the tension in a story. It came to me while I was reading a story that worked well from the tension point of view. As soon as possible, I wrote it down. It doesn't matter that it's not perfect. I can work on the finer points later. The important thing is that it's written down. Had I been out of the house, I would have scribbled a note or used my dictaphone. It involved a character not being where she was expected and then reappearing in an odd place. Doesn't sound much, but makes all the difference in the story.

In fact, I've just given myself another idea, so I'll end there.

Revelation Through Dialogue

2009-08-23T02:31:00.000-07:00

In real life, talking to people can be helpful and character-revealing. It is through conversation that we communicate our thoughts and feelings. In fiction it is an incredibly useful device. It breaks up the narrative and adds interest and colour to the story.

For example: 'Marjorie was a kind and charitable woman. She was always helpful to others on the days the mobile library came. Elsie, in particular, relied on her.'

This is handy to know, but dull. Try a piece of dialogue instead.

"Thank you my dear, as always. My legs have got worse recently. Right shaky they are. I couldn't manage without you." said Elsie, relieved that Marjorie was there to help her back down the steep steps of the library van.

"Any time, dear. I'll always wait here to give you a hand. I'm never in a rush, so take your time choosing your books. I look out for the van every week and dash over the road to make sure I'm available"

I prefer the dialogue option, because it shows rather than tells the reader what the character is like. As in real life, it is the best way to communicate.

Conflict

2009-08-21T23:35:00.000-07:00

Never forget to think about your plots when you are busy doing other things. I have been watching a film and something made me realise how I could add to the plot of a current story.

There were two sisters in the film as well as in my story. They fell out with each other in a fairly spectacular fashion and it really livened the pace of the film. I felt that my sisters needed to do the same, instead of ambling through the story in a pedestrian way. I'd written them into a rut.

A good row is helpful for allowing home truths and past grievances to emerge. These can round out the plot and heighten the tension. Stories need progression and any sort of conflict leads to an advancement of some kind. The pace speeds up too. Dialogue becomes quickfire. Don't forget to let the characters interrupt each other, as this is always the case in reality. There is less listening and more revelation.

So enjoy a good row!

Jumping In

2009-08-20T22:16:00.000-07:00

Do you launch into a story, writing it as you go, without a clear idea of what will happen? I do this and I can't do it any other way. I can't plan it. I make notes as ideas occur, but I have already begun writing the story. The notes don't come first. I like to jump right in at the deep end.

The advantage to this is that you start with the action, instead of writing reams of gradual build-up from the shallow end, dipping your toes in tentatively and running away from the big waves. Crashing into the depths at the start is what the reader wants. It is tedious to wade around on the edge of a story. Especially when it's a short story and you know it will soon be over.

The disadvantage is that it's harder to weave a careful plot and tie in all the loose ends. You write and write and then suddenly realise that you don't know where all this action is going or why it exists in the first place. The story needs rooting. So you have to put your head up above those waves and maybe swim to the shore for a while to regroup your thoughts.

But making plans makes my writing wooden, so I'll continue to jump in.

What's The Weather Like?

2009-08-19T22:15:00.000-07:00

Weather is a dull subject when people make it the centrepiece of a conversation. Everyone has heard a forecast. Each of these differs. So the discussion is pointless and no one really listens. They just choose whichever option they hear first.

The weather will do whatever it decides. We all know the range of possibilities in the UK. It may well rain or at least drizzle. There could be an overcast sky. Ther's an outside chance of sun and a likelihood of wind. Frosts maybe in winter and high humidity in the summer. It's not like Jamaica, where you have a hot sunny day until three o'clock. Then there's a tropical storm with lashings of rain to clean the air. Then back to sun, which disappears abruptly at nine in the evening. It's vague here. Which means conversations about it are trifling.

So don't waffle about weather in your writing. But use it to add mood and atmosphere. Have depressing skies or shafts of illuminating sunlight or biting winds or blankets of snow to create an apt setting. It can help to paint your picture.

But don't have inches and inches of dialogue about weather, unless absolutely crucial to the plot or characters.

Warming Things Up

2009-08-18T23:26:00.000-07:00

Life can leave a nasty taste sometimes. World events are sad. Closer to home too, tragedies occur. Friends and families give you shocks, let you down. The answer to this is to write it out.

There is nothing to be gained by giving in to that sense of hopelessness. It wears you down even more. You are going to feel worse than ever. Once you reach the point where you can do nothing to ameliorate the situation, then use it. Pull every bit out. Get hold of the disappointment and wring everything out of it that you can. Emotions such as anger, hatred, rage, despair are going to fuel your writing and inject it with an extra ingredient - passion.

So heat your words with the flames from your soul.

Doubts

2009-08-17T22:48:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have doubts about your writing? I can finish a story, perhaps one that I have been working on for ages, and then feel that it is awful. I can see the good parts as merely mediocre and the poorer aspects as complete rubbish. So what happens then?

This is what I do and it works well for me. I put it away for a while and I don't look at it at all. I work on new things - that is vital. Never stop. Don't let doubts about one piece of work poison your creative juices. Then, when I'm ready, I look at it objectively, as though someone else had written it. I revive it. Nothing is ever lost or wasted. I breathe new life into it.

To do this, I cut out bits, maybe removing a character that isn't doing his or her job. I alter the order of events perhaps or change the pace. Speeding up the action can help. I delete a scene or two that isn't helping the plot to progress. I check for long stagnant patches and improve their flow. Often, I add background history to flesh out a character who may appear a little thin.

It's like snipping ragged ends off long-neglected hair. Or tidying up a room after the school holidays. You find hidden crisp packets, ancient mugs, piles of watched DVDs out of their cases. You pick it all up, sort it all into the right places, clean it and air it ready for the new term. It's much the same with writing. And tidying can be satisfying, so don't despair. Once you have launched into the mess and begun detangling it, you will start to enjoy the process very much.

No Bleating!

2009-08-16T23:08:00.000-07:00

People moan. It's almost a hobby for some. They must like the sound of their whining voices, bleating about their writer's block or their lack of time to write or interruptions to their writing time. It's a lot of wasted breath spouting rubbish.

As I've said before, I don't really believe in writer's block. It's an excuse for not letting your mind work. Lack of time? Who ever has enough time for everything? You have to make it. It's not handed to you. Find the part or parts of the day when you can spare time and make sure you actually use it.

Interruptions? Tell people you are busy writing for the next half-an-hour or two hours. Don't respond to any attempts to disturb you, unless it's an emergency. Promise your undivided attention later, when you've finished. Clearly, you have to complete your work-hours or, if looking after dependents, you have to enlist further help before settling down to write. That isn't always easy and occasionally impossible to arrange. But always use your free time from work and the time when dependents are asleep/occupied elsewhere. Use it to write, not to moan. You may not be able to snatch great quantities of time. And it may involve perching a pad of paper on your lap or a corner of the kitchen table. It may mean ignoring the dirty dishes for a while. But do it anyway.

If it invades your sleep-time and you feel weary, so what? You'll just have to be tired for a bit until you can catch up again. Obviously, don't make yourself ill and exhausted, but make what sacrifices you can in order to give yourself the writing time you deserve.

Free time is best spent writing, not moaning.

What Do You Know?

2009-08-16T05:40:00.001-07:00

Write what you know is the advice we are given. I'm not sure we should adhere rigidly to this. It is true that we can write with confidence about the things we are familiar with, but it can also feel restricting. Of course we can do research. Then we know about something new and can apply that knowledge to our writing. But what about a shot in the dark?

I wrote a story in a setting that I was unfamiliar with. I'd probably seen a film set there, read a book or two in that location. But it wasn't somewhere I knew. I allowed my imagination to fill in the gaps and created my own setting. Unique, if not completely accurate. But so what? I didn't ever state where it was supposed to be. It's my place. Things took place there that I don't have first-hand experience of either, but the story won a competition. So the characters, plot and setting must have worked well, despite my fumbling in the dark.

So I remain a bit confused about the notion of wriitng what you know. It worries me that writers restrict their minds when planning a new story. If I develop a suddden interest in the Australian outback, even though I have no knowledge of it, I might plough into a story set there. My ideas will come from the smattering of information I possess, plus a tiny bit of research. I still won't know the Outback will I? But my story could still work well.

Be Yourself - It Suits You Better

2009-08-15T00:04:00.000-07:00

This advice was given to me once. It was personal advice and nothing to do with writing. I may not have always adhered to its wisdom, but I have remembered it and always will.

It can certainly be applied to writing. Don't try to write in the style of any other author. You won't be paying them a tribute. You will be copying them. You will be ignoring your own voice. Don't. Listen to it. There is no one else like you.

I loathe it when people learn for the first time that I write. Invariably they say excitedly that perhaps I shall be the next Jilly Cooper or JK Rowling or Maeve Binchy. No, I shan't. I don't want to be other people. If I did, there wouldn't be much point in being me, would there?

I admire the authors I have mentioned, and many more, but I can only be myself. That means my work will be liked by some, but not by all. Plenty of famous authors are not universally admired, but that doesn't matter. They have succeeded in becoming writers. That's what counts. But the success would not have come if they had written using the voice of someone else.

When you talk to people, use your own voice. Don't put on a different accent or adopt a vocbulary you wouldn't normally use. I used to accuse my father of having a 'telephone voice'. He always spoke beautifully, but he used a special aristocratic accent on the telephone! It infuriated me, because there was no need! And it didn't suit him at all.

A Splash Of Original Colour

2009-08-14T01:33:00.000-07:00

Colour is key to a story. Always add it in. Think how much it flavours your life and let it enliven your stories too.

Don't settle for yellow. What about fresh custard, bitter lemon, morning sun, golden sunset, sun-dried chicks, ripe banana, rain-soaked buttercup, grinning daffodil, saffron-infused rice...

I won't start on reds.

It's so much more vivid to visualise these wonderful images, but don't over-use them. It can get a bit cliched and then loses its appeal.

What's In A Name?

2009-08-13T01:57:00.000-07:00

I love names. I love unusual names. They add something extra and indefinable to a character. They can suggest all kinds of qualities or faults or social status. Even though you might think a name is just a couple of words, a story can be really enhanced if the name is apt.

Rodney Smythe-Harrington is unlikely to be a tinker, but wouldn't he be interesting if that were his occupation? Just as intriguing would be Dave Potts marrying royalty. These stories would be much better than if the situations were reversed for the two characters. Stories should carry an element of the unexpected to keep them fresh and the pages eagerly turned by the reader.

Names should be thought about and enjoyed when the ideal one occurs to you. I have heard some writers moan about choosing names, as though it were a chore. For me, it is one of my favourite aspects of writing. Once I have the name, the character can be visualised. My lovely spiv, Johnny Carpenter. My amazing pub singer in lurex, Clint Hotpants. My suave and sinister Professor Savage. Their names make them all real.

What's In A Theme?

2009-08-11T23:23:00.000-07:00

Theme is vital to stories. It is the link that runs through the entire piece. It is the point of interest. It is what the story is about. If your little girl is invited to a fairy-themed party, you know she has to go complete with shiny dress, wings, wand and sequinned shoes. The theme won't work unless all the little girls turn up dressed in a similar way. Then you have a fairy party. It is incomplete and unsatisfactory if half the guests forget and arrive in tartan frocks or frayed jeans.

With stories, it is just the same. If your theme is passion, then there must be strong feelings and full hearts. If the theme is jealousy, then green-eyed monsters must be lurking. If the theme is the search for happiness, then there must be a lot of looking, maybe some losing and then some finding.

Notice that the theme can be summarised in just a few words. If you have to ponder for ages when asked about the theme of your latest story, then it isn't going to work. You must have a hook that it all hangs on.

My favourite story, mentioned in a recent post, The Necklace by Maupassant, has the theme of pride coming before a fall. Others might say it is about deception being a tangled web. Or it is about dishonesty. Whichever theme you choose, all of these examples have the same thing in common. They are brief.

Try asking yourself what your rejected stories are about. If you struggle to find the reply or need several sentences to explain it, then you know why thoses stories have not yet been successful. Try inspecting them in detail to winkle out the underlying theme or themes. Perhaps you have too many threads in there? Try teasing some out and tidying the story up until a predominant theme emerges.

Do not confuse theme with plot. More of that in a later post.

Keeping Up The Pace

2009-08-11T11:20:00.000-07:00

Pacing is so important to a story. If you give it all away on the first page, your story will have less impetus. It will fall flat and wither before the last page. On the other hand, if you wait too long before bringing out the big guns, the reader may have died of boredom before the bullet reaches him.

So give it time to build. There must be a gradual increase in tension. There must be a climax. Always bear in mind, however, that this is a short story. You don't have all that much time for building. You must keep it progressing all the way through from the first paragraph to the last. No stagnant chunks. No wasted words. No dialogue that doesn't actually say anything about the characters. But, at the same time, it mustn't be rushed either.

This is something that comes with practice. Try looking back often at what you have written. Have you given the game away too soon? Keep that bit for later and add more story first. Or have you written too much waffle? Cut it out and introduce some action instead. If nothing is happening, the reader is yawning. It doesn't have to be world-changing action. There don't have to be cannons firing or stallions charging. But there does have to be some sort of progress. Even if it's just an outing to the launderette or a changed state of mind, eg: from tranquil to uncertain or from contented to daunted.

Bear in mind the type of story that makes you switch off and avoid that by clever pacing. Throwing in a bit of unexpected action works well. Surprise your reader and keep him guessing!

Troubled Times

2009-08-09T22:29:00.000-07:00

Writing is the perfect treatment for unhappy times. If you are worried or tense about the unavoidable bleak patches in your life, then writing saves you a lot of hand-wringing and pacing about.

When you write, you inhabit another world. As I said in my last post, you are 'there'. You can take on a fictitious set of troubles. There's no better way to unburden yourself of your own real ones.

So, instead of banging your head against walls, trying to untangle your own dilemmas, you can take pleasure in sorting out someone elses's. Who knows? When you return to the real world, you may feel refreshed enough to see a solution to yours too.

Writing Is Work

2009-08-09T00:12:00.000-07:00

Writing is work. People who don't write might think it's easy for us. In fact, some might consider writing not to be real work at all. 'I could do that,' they think. Don't be angry with them and try to defend your work. Just ask them to have a go and offer to give them a critique free of charge.

They could discover hidden talents, which would be very exciting. On the other hand, they may realise that it is much more of a challenge than they thought possible.

The chances are that those who bluster the most about how eay it must be to write, will never take you up on the opportunity.

From The Heart

2009-08-08T00:33:00.000-07:00

Don't sit there forcing ideas to come. All the possibilities are there within you. They will come if you let them. Let your mind relax and write the first thing that comes to mind. It may seem shapeless and even nonsensical at first, but it will take on its own life as you continue, and therefore a pattern that, blurry initially, becomes sharper and well-defined. As long as you don't give up!

Once I won a competition with a story that grew as I wrote it. I lived it. I was there. That's what made the difference. I was in that picture within my mind. Hence I cared about my two main characters. Since it came from the heart, the warmth shone through and brightened the picture that, certainly at the start, was confusing for me. I didn't know what would happen. But, because I continued with confidence, still in harmony with the setting and characters, still 'there', it fell into a neat shape. The pacing was good because I didn't pause to chew my pen or stare out of the window. I stayed in the minute world I had allowed my mind to create.

It all began with a girl in a high rise flat with a runny nose. Not very exciting as it stands. But the key to unlocking the potential of a mundane scene is to let it develop naturally, wholeheartedly. Stay with it and refuse to let it go. This child went on a 'journey' in that flat. The reader saw her thoughts, which I 'showed' rather than 'told'. It was, as with many short stories, a little scrap of time, an infinitesimal fraction of her life, but poignant. She progressed. She moved from one point in her life to another. And she did it because I let my mind propel the action.

Let it grow and be proud of its unique quality. My child in the flat has stayed with me ever since.

Stop!

2009-08-07T02:37:00.001-07:00

It's all right to walk away from your writing. Sometimes it's just not going to happen and it's fine to shut down your computer or close your pad.

Do something unrelated and don't do it with a furrowed brow. Try loud music or a long walk. Enjoy yourself. Remember, your writing will be there waiting for your return. That might be in five minutes, five hours or even five days. But it will be there.

It's not like someone is goose-stepping around you with a stopwatch. You are the boss, the manager, the under-manager, the shop-floor worker, the tea-maker, the dinner-lady/man, the cleaner, the secretary and the owner of the whole shooting match.

Coffee Breaks

2009-08-06T04:41:00.000-07:00

Coffee breaks are necessary, but you have to make the most of them. Don't swig it while you write. Sit back and enjoy every sip.

This is important because you need to feel that you have stopped, not simply refuelled. All workers need a rest and a chance to think - especially crucial for a writer. During pauses, you can regather your tangled ideas and sort them out, ready to move on afterwards. Give your poor brain a five-minute pause.

Remember to do it at the appropriate moment, not when you're in mid-flow. Savour the satisfaction of relaxing at just the right point. However, leave it at a place where you can easily continue, not at a finished and polished place. It is hard to pick up without one little loose thread to seize.