In the real world, like many writers I'm a reserved and rather shy sort of person. I hate confrontation and when I was a child I was always the first one out of the room when an argument was brewing. To my consternation, I think I sometimes allow this reticence to creep into my writing. I go to enormous lengths to set up a major scene and then I duck out! Unbelievable!
I recently sent the completed first draft of my new novel to my agent and she came back with a long list of notes, tactfully drawing my attention to some crucial scenes which I had completely and utterly neglected to write. In my defence, I could spin some kind of line about wanting the reader to use their imagination and engage with the situation for themselves, but I know it won't wash. I understand that I need to take a deep breath and accompany my characters into some dark and difficult places, even if it means sitting at my computer in floods of tears (this sometimes happens.)
Weirdly, it is the scenes you are most afraid of and which touch some nerve inside you, that often turn out to be the most powerful, perhaps because they cost the most for you to write. And as in the real world, once you have taken a deep breath and got something off your chest, you usually feel a whole lot better.
With this in mind (and with tissues to hand) I'm going to turn into the skid and start writing the hard stuff, because that is often where the good stuff, the true stuff, is to be found. And anyway, I guess that if I can't stand the heat, I may as well get out of the kitchen...
Tuesday, 23 November 2010
Monday, 22 November 2010
Small Presses and Little Magazines of the UK and Ireland
Small Presses and Little Magazines of the UK and Ireland used to be compiled by Peter Finch, who was based at the Oriel bookshop in Cardiff. It was a fantastic resource -- Finch described it as "an address list" but when I googled it, as far as I could tell it went out of print in about 1997.
When I was starting out as a writer trying to get published, I remember how helpful it was, a kind of little black book for authors and it seemed such a shame it was no longer available that I thought it would be well worth trawling through my old copy, seeing which companies had survived the ravages of time, and including two or three that are still going strong in each of my posts, complete with web addresses and contact e-mails.
So here goes...
57 Productions
57 Productions is home to the original Poetry Jukebox and has recently launched the Poetry Video Jukebox and ipoems. It presents an extensive and diverse programme of promotional events and has an expanding catalogue of productions including CDs & cassettes, videos & specials for the internet - featuring popular poets & performers. So if you're interested in boosting your online profile…
A K Press
California-based worker run book publisher and distributor organised around anarchist principles.
Acumen Publishing
Publisher Steven Gerrard steven.gerrard@acumenpublishing.co.uk
From anarchy to academe - Acumen is an independent publisher of academic books in philosophy, classical studies and history of ideas for students, lecturers and researchers in institutions of higher education worldwide.
Sunday, 21 November 2010
Creative Ambiguity
As a reader, the kind of writing I like best travels in two directions at the same time: in a linear way, moving along, telling a story, but at the same time travelling down, going deeper, revealing the mysteries of somebody's personality too.
To incorporate this in your own writing, it might be helpful to write two accounts of the same event, told from the points of view of two different participants. In this way you can throw light on the differences between your characters and at the same time it might help you to increase tension in the tale you are telling. It may present you with a number of useful plot knots to untie: who notices what, and why? Did one person feel pleased with what took place while the other one felt unhappy? Is one person deceiving himself (or someone else)? You can set up minor misunderstandings which later snowball into something significant, even catastrophic.
This kind of ambiguity and inconsistency can provide rich material in terms of observing and commenting on the relationship between your characters and will add subtlety to your narrative. It's also a way of making your reader work a little harder if they have to retrieve clues for themselves, rather than being spoonfed everything in a superficial way.
To incorporate this in your own writing, it might be helpful to write two accounts of the same event, told from the points of view of two different participants. In this way you can throw light on the differences between your characters and at the same time it might help you to increase tension in the tale you are telling. It may present you with a number of useful plot knots to untie: who notices what, and why? Did one person feel pleased with what took place while the other one felt unhappy? Is one person deceiving himself (or someone else)? You can set up minor misunderstandings which later snowball into something significant, even catastrophic.
This kind of ambiguity and inconsistency can provide rich material in terms of observing and commenting on the relationship between your characters and will add subtlety to your narrative. It's also a way of making your reader work a little harder if they have to retrieve clues for themselves, rather than being spoonfed everything in a superficial way.
Saturday, 20 November 2010
Rubbing your tummy while patting your head...
The more layers a narrative has, the more satisfying it is -- we're talking scone with clotted cream and jam here, as opposed to, say, ryvita. If you only do one thing at a time, it will take you twice as long to tell your story and the result will be something that is rather limp and has outgrown its strength.
When you are introducing a character, don't just describe them physically, think about the setting they are in as well, and how they relate to it. Show them in action, rather than just as static beings and give us a sense of how they think and speak.
By doing this, when we first meet your hero or heroine, we should have a sense of who and where they are and what they are thinking / saying / doing. If you can make their actions dramatic, or exciting, or unexplained, then you have the beginnings of a plot hook and before you know it you are up and running.
It's a question of patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time. It just takes a bit of practice.
When you are introducing a character, don't just describe them physically, think about the setting they are in as well, and how they relate to it. Show them in action, rather than just as static beings and give us a sense of how they think and speak.
By doing this, when we first meet your hero or heroine, we should have a sense of who and where they are and what they are thinking / saying / doing. If you can make their actions dramatic, or exciting, or unexplained, then you have the beginnings of a plot hook and before you know it you are up and running.
It's a question of patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time. It just takes a bit of practice.
Friday, 19 November 2010
The Truth of the Matter
I've just sent the first draft of my current novel to my agent, who is fantastic at reading things forensically and has sent it bouncing back with masses of notes and stuff for me to ponder. The book is set in France and without going into too much detail, there are things I need to know about French child protection procedures which I haven't fleshed out in sufficient detail!
This is important, because if one aspect of a narrative isn't plausibly established then the whole of the rest of the story is called into question. You need to do your research properly so that the fictional world you create is absolutely watertight -- one loose piece and the whole lot comes tumbling down.
It is a fine line to tread and one that I had approached rather hesitantly, mindful of the trap of doing vast amounts of research and piling it all in, simply because you have material which you have uncovered and find fascinating, although with hindsight I can see that I erred on the side of leaving too much out. These are judgements and choices that you make all the time when you're writing, and having made them once you have to review and refine them with every new draft.
I guess it touches on the wider issue of what kind of truth you aspire to in the narrative you are telling. Are you hoping to recreate the literal truth of a situation -- the nuts and bolts of fact: this happened and then this happened because of it; or are you aiming at something a little more metaphorical or universal? If it is the latter, and you are hoping to convey something quintessential and resonant, you need to be sure that the basic truth underpinning this is solidly established.
If this is something that interests you and you would like to explore further the different kinds of reality which fiction can consist of, it might be an idea totake a scene from your own life and subject it to two different kind of interpretations: a factual and straightforward one and something more elliptical that looks at its wider significance. In the end, by marrying the two together, hopefully you will arrive at an account that strikes a clear and true note.
This is important, because if one aspect of a narrative isn't plausibly established then the whole of the rest of the story is called into question. You need to do your research properly so that the fictional world you create is absolutely watertight -- one loose piece and the whole lot comes tumbling down.
It is a fine line to tread and one that I had approached rather hesitantly, mindful of the trap of doing vast amounts of research and piling it all in, simply because you have material which you have uncovered and find fascinating, although with hindsight I can see that I erred on the side of leaving too much out. These are judgements and choices that you make all the time when you're writing, and having made them once you have to review and refine them with every new draft.
I guess it touches on the wider issue of what kind of truth you aspire to in the narrative you are telling. Are you hoping to recreate the literal truth of a situation -- the nuts and bolts of fact: this happened and then this happened because of it; or are you aiming at something a little more metaphorical or universal? If it is the latter, and you are hoping to convey something quintessential and resonant, you need to be sure that the basic truth underpinning this is solidly established.
If this is something that interests you and you would like to explore further the different kinds of reality which fiction can consist of, it might be an idea totake a scene from your own life and subject it to two different kind of interpretations: a factual and straightforward one and something more elliptical that looks at its wider significance. In the end, by marrying the two together, hopefully you will arrive at an account that strikes a clear and true note.
Thursday, 18 November 2010
In thought and deed (never mind what we have left undone)
I had my creative writing group round last night. I've been teaching them informally for about ten years now -- we've grown and grieved and changed together during that time and the pieces people read out yesterday were moving and amusing, as they always are.
We had an interesting conversation about exploiting the differences between what characters say or do and what they think. When you are writing and you want to delve deeper into the psyche of your hero or heroine, exploring this kind of gap can be incredibly fruitful and productive. Why would someone say one thing and do another? Are they trying to be kind or to protect someone? Are they trying to manipulate or set somebody up? Are they concealing bad news? Are they professing love, but acting differently, and if so -- why?
As you can see, not only can this provoke some useful questions, but it can also create an interesting tension between the interior world of your character and their exterior world, which is a great way to spark a reader's curiosity. Ultimately, it is a helpful way to examine motive, which is that fascinating place where character and plot intersect.
So when you want to explore a character further or enhance the story, it can sometimes be a good thing to tease out the ambiguities or contradictions between what people think to themselves and say or do to others.
We had an interesting conversation about exploiting the differences between what characters say or do and what they think. When you are writing and you want to delve deeper into the psyche of your hero or heroine, exploring this kind of gap can be incredibly fruitful and productive. Why would someone say one thing and do another? Are they trying to be kind or to protect someone? Are they trying to manipulate or set somebody up? Are they concealing bad news? Are they professing love, but acting differently, and if so -- why?
As you can see, not only can this provoke some useful questions, but it can also create an interesting tension between the interior world of your character and their exterior world, which is a great way to spark a reader's curiosity. Ultimately, it is a helpful way to examine motive, which is that fascinating place where character and plot intersect.
So when you want to explore a character further or enhance the story, it can sometimes be a good thing to tease out the ambiguities or contradictions between what people think to themselves and say or do to others.
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