Wednesday 31 October 2012

'Tis Pity She's a Whore

I went to see Cheek by Jowl's sensational production of 'Tis Pity She's a Whore at the Bristol Old Vic on Monday. Declan Donellan re-imagines John Ford's Jacobean tragedy for the 21st Century and the macabre and incestuous behaviour of the protagonists Annabella and Giovanni fits uncomfortably well with the hedonistic, decadent contemporary society that he conjures for us.

Nick Ormerod's set is a feverish red and the play opens feverishly with a song and dance number. Music and movement inform the action throughout. The drama is visceral, to the extent that the heroine's heart is brought on by her bloodied brother after he has cut it from her chest. It was inventive, funny and horrifying by turn.

One of the things I liked most about it was the tension between the modern setting and the Jacobean text, a provocative clash that raises questions about human nature and what we have learned or not during the centuries since it was written. I think there's a creative writing lesson here too. You can add different dimensions to your work by exploring areas of tension within it: Donellan counterpointed language and setting, but you can do the same thing with aspiration and actual achievement, appearance and reality, thought and deed. There are any number of opposing forces or ideas that you can bring together and if you're very, very skilful, you'll achieve the same combustible excitement that we witnessed at the theatre  earlier this week.

Monday 29 October 2012

Writing Fiction – Keeping a Sense of Proportion

When you're writing and the white heat of creativity is upon you, it is easy to get so caught up in what you are doing that you start to lose a sense of overall proportion in your work. Just as visual artists step back from their canvases to take in the bigger picture, so you should find a way of stepping back from what you're writing in order to make sure that your work retains a proper sense of proportion. If you don't disengage from time to time and take a critical look at what you've done, you may find that a particular character is becoming dominant, or that you are concentrating on one strand of the plot at the expense of another. Equally, you might discover that you are overwriting and that how you are telling the tale is becoming more attention grabbing than the tale itself.
Reviewing the whole narrative every three chapters or so is a great way of making sure that the emphasis of your story is where you want it to be. If you don't keep a proprietorial eye on things, the proportions may become skewed and you'll end up with something looking a bit like this...



Friday 26 October 2012

Free Critique of Your Creative Writing

All of us tell tales. We share our triumphs and tribulations with each other, we pass on gossip, we search for meaning and significance in our own experience and in each other's. Sometimes this involves reading fiction, which at its best universalizes the particular, thus offering us understanding, catharsis and a sense of being healed.

If you have time on your hands over the weekend, you might like to have a go at a writing exercise. Think about the narratives which people create for themselves, try and explore the need for that narrative and then look at what happens if it is breached or subverted. There's a whole short story right there, waiting to be written.

I'd be interested to see what you come up with, so if you'd like to send me five hundred words or so of what you have written, I'd happily critique the first ten that I receive for free.

Have a great weekend...

Wednesday 24 October 2012

Making a Commitment to Your Writing

When you're sitting in front of your computer, staring at the blank screen *what shall I blog about today* and you can see a big, fat, writers block out of the corner of your eye, making some kind of external commitment about your work may help you to get off the starting blocks.

Writing can be such a cussed, solitary thing to do, that I would heartily recommend you to find yourself a writing buddy at the earliest opportunity. Your buddy could be a partner, a parent, a friend or a fellow writer. Because the relationship is often reciprocal,  it has the potential to develop into something constructive, critical, supportive and empathetic, all in a wonderful one-er.


Most writers write because they can't not, so motivation isn't usually a problem, but some kinds of writing are more fun to do than others, so if you're struggling with something and running out of steam (and inspiration), making some kind of literary commitment to your writing buddy might be the answer. Promise them that you will show them your draft synopsis/final chapter/article pitch by Friday week, and you will find yourself extraordinarily motivated to make good on that promise.


Saying something, makes it so. We write in order to make the magical world inside our head seem real. In the same way, promising to deliver a piece of work will help to make it happen.


Monday 22 October 2012

Fiction Writing - The Unwritten Rules

 Somerset Maugham sums it up pretty neatly,
 There are three rules for writing. Unfortunately, no one can agree what they are.
I think my three guiding principles would be something like this:
  1. Don't write for effect – always serve the story.
  2. Edit with obsessive stringency.
  3. Read other writers. 
What are your unwritten writing rules?

Friday 19 October 2012

Writing Fiction – How to Structure a Story

I rather like this ramshackle old window, snapped in some mediaeval village in France. I like all the different textures: the painted tongue and groove planking, the peeling frame, the cracked, occluded glass and the partial sight of a brick wall beyond that.

Think of it as a metaphor for the structure of a book. The planking is the setting or background, the frame is the concept - the single, illuminating idea - on which your narrative is based, the broken glass is the way in which you subvert your original idea with a change of perspective or an unforeseen plot twist, while the brick wall could be the kernel of truth at the centre of your story, or  the glimpsed heart of darkness, or the end of the road for one of your characters, or the suggestion of the existence of another world beyond the one you are currently exploring.

What I think the picture illustrates is the fact that writing a novel is not an entirely linear process, although most plots need a beginning, middle and an end. The task for the writer is to build up layers – you don't establish the background, then introduce a character, then set the plot in motion – the challenge is to do all of them at the same time, rather than sequentially.

If you want a writing work-out for the weekend, try writing a scene with this in mind. Approach it as if you were painting a picture. While you are filling in some of the background, think how the figures relate to the fictional landscape you are creating - are they central to the composition, or are they doing something intriguing in the margins; do they blend in or stand out; do they attract or repel? Your lit pic might allude to some action taking place just beyond what is currently visible, to give a sense of onward momentum. Perhaps you could frame your scene, setting it in a context that counterpoints or highlights the picture you have drawn. None of this is easy to do, but if you can pull it off it is a way to synthesize what you have written and it should lend a satisfying depth and texture to your work.

Wednesday 17 October 2012

The Wo - Man Booker Prize

I'm giving three resounding cheers for Hilary Mantel, throwing my  cap in the air and cheering to the rafters.
The first cheer is because Bring up the Bodies is skeined like silk and woven into a literary tapestry as fine and detailed as any 16th century needlecraft could ever be. I adored Wolf Hall and opened its sequel with some trepidation, believing that it could never live up to the first volume, but it did and it's sublime.
The second cheer is because Hilary Mantel is fighting a rearguard action to make genre fiction respectable. It's fantastic to see historical novels take their place beside so-called literary tomes and it reaffirms the fact that it's not what you write, but how you write it which matters.
The third cheer is because the divine Ms M is the only woman ever to have won the Man Booker prize twice, which means that all her literary sisters can walk a little taller today...

Monday 15 October 2012

Just Suppose You Juxtapose...

Juxtapose means to put two things side-by-side. If this was all you did with them, it wouldn't be much of a literary trick to pull off. However, it can be useful if you want to make one thing that comment on another, to highlight their similarities or differences, to question the relationship between the two objects, or to explore the effect of context. Colours change tone when you place them next to each other. The same can be true of people, who adjust their behaviour to suit different circumstances.

Juxtaposition is a tool for highlighting or offsetting something, for showing it in a different light. It can be used humorously and may introduce traces of the absurd. This van, parked in my street today, is perhaps a little exercise in juxtaposition - when is a door not door?
It made me smile, in any case.

Friday 12 October 2012

Getting Down to the Nitty-Gritty: Why Detail Matters

British short story supremo VS Pritchett once observed, "Details make stories human, and the more human a story can be, the better," advice we lesser mortals should ignore at our peril. The use of detail is one of the major tools we have for bringing characters to life. It can also be an antidote to cliche and stereotype. To describe a woman as having blonde hair and blue eyes tells your reader nothing of any use, but if you mention that her eyes are myopic and water when she is tired and that her golden hair is showing pewter at the roots, a more distinct picture starts to emerge.

Not only does detail help to bring characters to life, it adds drama to events. If you describe a man walking into an abandoned warehouse and finding a woman lying bound on a plastic sheet, it tells your reader some of what they need to know, but by no means enough. You need to show how the man enters: does he break in, does he wander in by accident, is he expecting to see the girl there? Are there people on the streets outside, or cars passing, or are they miles from anywhere? Is there evidence of violence? Can anything be heard? Does the smell of a recently struck match suggest the presence of someone else not very far away? You can see how these minutiae transform a situation into a living, breathing drama.

Think of detail as layers of paint which an artist might add to a canvas, then sit yourself down in front of a blank page, start with the briefest sketch of a situation – perhaps the one I've outlined above, if it interests you – and try to add colour and definition, stroke by stroke. I'm channelling grit on the floor, traces of washed blood, the sound of a chain, swinging... I might have a go at it myself!

Have a great weekend....

Wednesday 10 October 2012

How to Do Dialogue When Writing Fiction

Good dialogue is plausible, life-like conversation which reflects the character of the speaker and helps to provide necessary information to advance the plot.

Ah-ha! But how do you write good dialogue? Spend some time – lots of it, if you have it – listening to how people speak. Eavesdrop on buses, do whatever it takes. Then, when you are ready to set to work yourself, follow these simple steps and they should help make it easier for you.
  • As an active listener, you will have noticed  that people use short, fragmented sentences, so keep your sentences short as well – multiple clauses and conversation don't mix.
  • Most people are fairly self-centred and more interested in what they have to say than what the person they are talking to is on about. Often they will pursue the same line of thought through a number of short speeches, barely acknowledging anything which is being said to them. Have a go at recreating this scenario yourself.
  • People have vocal mannerisms – little conversational tics – you know, I mean, right. Used sparingly, and I mean sparingly, these signature phrases can help to identify a character and make their speech seem naturalistic. Don't over do this, however, as it can be irritating.
  • You can put spin on dialogue by close attention to how something is said, rather than simply what is said. The same sentence can have a vastly different meaning if it is spoken differently: I love you can sound, tender, or passionate, or even vengeful.
  • Repetition is fine in spoken dialogue and can help make it seem realistic, though it is to be avoided in straight prose.
  • Don't be afraid to chop things up illogically from time to time. People do murderous things with syntax when they are talking: try it out, why don't you? 
If you want a little writing exercise to be going on with, jot down a duologue between two characters and then remove all the identifying references – he said, she asked, Joan smiled, Sally sobbed etc - and see if you can make out who is talking from the way that they say things.

Must be time for a door...




Monday 8 October 2012

Writing Fiction – Three Common Pitfalls and How to Avoid Them

When you're appraising manuscripts, it's easy to spot the work of an inexperienced writer. The most common pitfalls I come across are these:

  • Overwriting
  • Lack of editing
  • Lack of planning

I suspect that all of these stem from the same overwhelming urge to create. Once you discover the intoxication of spilling your thoughts across a page, it can be very hard to reign yourself in. If you enter that magical space where time passes without you realising as you write, write, write, you will feel extraordinarily protective of what you have produced there. Because writing is such a personal and intimate activity, and inspiration is not something you can always count on, you can be reluctant to make any changes to your work, in case something is irrevocably lost and the fairy dust disappears.

This is where tough love comes in. If you want to do justice to your writing, once the white heat of inspiration has passed, you may find you need to do some rigorous re-drafting.

Overwriting - It is easy to get carried away with reams and reams of superfluous description. If you discover you have a way with words, try not to indulge it too often. In fiction more than anything else, less is often more. How do you tell if you are overwriting? If you have chunks of description which aren't carrying out another function at the same time, i.e. advancing the plot, revealing something new about a character, providing a counterpoint to contrast with the mood of the scene, then that description is probably superfluous and should be cut. If you find that you are using two (or, heaven forfend, three) adjectives - the long, narrow, winding road – try and find one that will do the work on its own (the snaking road?) If you find you are saying the same thing twice, in slightly different ways, then ditch one of them. If you are repeating anything directly, jettison it right away.

Lack of Editing - Don't be over-protective of your work. The chances of getting everything right first time are zero. Apparently Martin Amis does up to six drafts of every novel and Stephen King has revealed he cuts twenty percent of the prose from his first draft. If they can do it, so can you. The dead weight of bad writing will drag your story down.

Lack of Planning – People who are starting out as writers tend to come up with a brilliant idea, so brilliant that they have to get it down straight away while it is fresh and crackling with excitement, and they charge through the first few chapters without drawing breath. Often, when this first surge of creative energy is spent, they come to a grinding halt. To follow the story's journey, at the very least you will need the sketchy outline of a map; you need to know the terrain. Some writers may find this inhibiting, they are fearful that it will impede their creativity, but my hunch is that it is much more likely to support the creative process. Having a plot mapped out doesn't mean that you can't make changes to it as you go along, but it is likely to mean that you will set up the necessary twists and turns in your story well in advance and that you won't have to rely on awkward coincidences or improbable events to get you out of a tight plotting spot. It will also protect you from the horrible moment when you sit down, look at the empty page, and think what do I write today? You will know that the next scene you need to start on is the one where they sail out of Paris on a boat, or whatever...When you know where you are going, you can go striding on your way.

Thursday 4 October 2012

National Poetry Day

In a recent question and answer session promoting the Cheltenham Literary Festival, Carol Ann Duffy said,
"For me, poetry is the music of being human. And also a time machine by which we can travel to who we were and to who we will become"
 *Collective sigh of wonderment* The music of being human is the most perfect description of what poetry is, and because it is National Poetry Day I thought I'd offer up a  list of some of my favourite musicians. In no particular order,
W B Yeats
Paul Celan
Hugo Williams
Simon Armitage
John Masefield
Sylvia Plath
Wendy Cope
Paul Muldoon
Rupert Brooke
James Fenton
and the emerging talent of West Country poet Deborah Harvey...
I shall have The White Birds by W B Yeats going round in my head all day now – the first chords of poetry that I remember hearing...
Which poets will you be celebrating on National Poetry Day?

Wednesday 3 October 2012

How to Get Published? Think Big!

What with the recession and the de-stabilising effects of digital publishing, writers are finding it harder than ever before to get their books conventionally published by one of the traditional houses. Editors' hands are tied by the marketing departments, who seem to blindly read the runes of what was successful last year to try and predict what will be successful next year, rather than judging each submission on its merits. The result is a succession of pale imitations of recent hits (Jane Eyre Laid Bare? Don't get me started).

The common consensus appears to be that editors are looking for something BIG. It doesn't seem to matter what, providing it comes super-sized. So here are a few thoughts about how you might go large in literary terms.

  • Find a so-called 'high concept' for your story. This is an idea – a stroke of inspiration – so simple yet profound that it can be conveyed in one succinct sentence. Think One Day by David Nichols: charting the development of a couple's relationship on the same date over twenty-five years.
  • As well as a high concept, you need high stakes: your protagonist must stand to gain or lose massively as your narrative plays out.
  • High drama wouldn't do any harm, either. Don't swerve away from the big scene, leaving it to your readers' imagination; wring out every bit of intensity that you can. You need strong characters wrestling with big issues and overwhelming emotions.
  • It might help if the scope of your story is wide: Hilary Mantel has made the court of Henry VIII her own in Wolf Hall and Bring up the Bodies. Both books describe a personal story that is played out on a vast canvas and has national and historical significance. Find a big stage for your characters to act upon.
  • Most importantly of all, even if you are working on a grand scale, don't confuse drama for melodrama. Guard the integrity and emotional truth of your characters and remember the importance of the small, but telling detail. It's like painting an epic fresco with a miniaturist's brush.

Monday 1 October 2012

Architecture for Writers

Prose is architecture, not interior decoration, according to Ernest Hemingway, an interesting insight with which to start the week. If you think of your novel as a work of architecture, you may find yourself looking at the way the story arcs and intersects with more pragmatic eyes. Try picturing your book as a building, think what you will need to support the spans of the narrative - strong characterisation and a slippery plot; give it solid foundations, provide somewhere for imagination to take refuge, house your reader, make them at home.

By concentrating on the structure of your story, you will be less diverted by the niceties of polishing your prose (that can wait for later), which means there's every chance your writing will be less self-conscious and the work as a whole more solid and robust.