The Write Woman Blogspot

Coming clean!

2009-08-07T11:37:00.006+01:00

I'll be honest - when I started writing this blog, I didn't really have a clue what I was doing. I wasn't sure who might read it, if anyone at all, and I wasn't sure what to call myself - whether to be 'me', or the name I now use to write my novels, or to be incognito. The problem was that I was using both my own name and the pseudonym for writing, but my publisher had wanted me to keep the identity of the pseudonym strictly secret to begin with. So I decided to become The Write Woman, and use the blog to talk about writing issues and other things in general without revealing my identity.

A little later, my editor suggested it would be good to have a blog in the name of my pseudonym, so that I could tell people about the new books. So I started a second blog - which some of you may now know about - as Olivia Ryan. This is the name under which I've written my three most recent novels, and the blog is at http://oliviaryanblogspot.blogspot.com . I still use my own name - Sheila Norton - to write my short stories, and my first five novels were written under this name.

With the publication of my third Olivia Ryan book 'Tales From a Honeymoon Hotel' last month, my publisher decided it was now time for me to 'come out' and reveal my identity - which I must say has been a huge relief! Keeping it secret was quite difficult, although it has been a challenge and great fun in some ways, creating a new persona for myself. Writing the two blogs, and commenting on others, sometimes as Olivia and sometimes as the Write Woman, has also been confusing at times, as I tend to forget who I'm supposed to be! So I've decided it's going to be a hell of a lot easier, now, to 'come clean' on this blog too.

I've now been able to give talks in my local area as Olivia Ryan, and interviews in local papers about my 'dual identity', and I've found there's been quite a lot of interest in the whole subject of pseudonyms. So much so, that I approached Writers' Forum magazine about writing a feature on the subject, and have had agreement - which gives me another enjoyable writing project to work on. I'm very fortunate, for this, to have the help of my membership of the Romantic Novelists' Association - as several members have agreed to include a few lines about why they use their own pseudonyms, for the feature. It's been a surprise to me, to find out how many writers do use a pen-name - and how many use more than one!

So - now I've come clean - I'll probably use the Olivia Ryan blog for most of my postings. But I do feel a lot of loyalty towards this blog, as it was my introduction to the whole business of blogging, which has turned out to be easy and fun, so I'll no doubt still pop back over here from time to time! Meanwhile, thank you all for reading this blog - and I hope to see you over at Olivia's Oracle - http://oliviaryanblogspot.blogspot.com -

The Write Woman / Sheila / Olivia!

Being down ... and trying to come back up

2009-07-17T10:10:00.004+01:00

I've been a bit quiet on the blogs recently. Despite my new book being published a couple of weeks ago, I've had some pretty painful setbacks to my writing career. So it's been difficult enough, being upbeat about the publication in public, while trying to stop myself panicking and becoming totally depressed in private - without the added problem of trying to think of anything positive to blog about!

Like anyone who's given up working in the 'real world' to become a full-time author, the knowledge that I could go back to a 'proper job' if necessary has always been there in the back of my mind - but again like anyone who loves their life as a writer, it's not a prospect I'm anxious to confront. I'm close enough to pension age to be fairly hopeful of managing to survive without having to brush off my office clothes and start looking at job vacancies again - but conversely, if it did become necessary to do so, I'm aware that having already been out of the workplace for a year, and being ... rather older than the average job applicant ... I wouldn't find it very easy.

These are difficult times for writers - as for every other profession. If we can hang on by any means, we need to be very grateful! So it was a tremendous relief, while battling with the 'blues' about my declining sales and lack of new contracts, to receive, within days of each other: a payment for foreign rights sales of two of my earlier books, (which had taken so long to come through, I'd almost forgotten about it); payment for a feature I wrote a couple of months ago; and three short story acceptances! (I shouldn't mention the one that was rejected at the same time - I'm trying to stay upbeat here, for a minute!).

Now, if every week could go like that, I certainly wouldn't be even considering looking for another job! If only, eh? If only!

complementary copies

2009-06-28T20:58:00.002+01:00

Can anyone remind me whether Woman's Weekly still send out complementary copies to contributers? They've bought a story from me recently, and it's been such a long time since I sold anything to them, I'm not sure whether it's still their practice to send out copies. Otherwise I'll start looking out for it every week!!

Thanks.

Strange stories!

2009-06-22T12:41:00.004+01:00

I've just had a count-up, and found that I've got 13 short stories 'out there' at the moment, which is probably a record for me, (as I'm writing a new novel at the same time, despite not having a contract for it at the moment - but that's another story ...!). Of those 13 stories, two are definitely a bit strange. By that, I mean - they're not the kind of thing I normally write. One is set in Morocco, and links a Moroccan family with a couple of tourists. The other is a ghost story - and that is REALLY unusual for me!

I can only ever remember writing one ghost story before. It was while I was working at an old hospital, where the building was originally a workhouse. There was really supposed to be a ghost there - 'The Grey Lady', who was supposed to have lived (and presumably died!) in the workhouse. She had been seen (by quite a few reasonably rational people), wandering the wards and corridors of the hospital. In fact, there were so many stories circulating about her that I wrote a feature about the hospital ghost, and it was published in the local paper. But again that's another story! My ghost story was also set in a hospital - I wrote a lot of hospital stories at the time! - and concerned a female ghost who tried to stop girls, like the young nurses, from getting hurt by men - hah! that's a lifetime's work for anybody, even a ghost! She ended up fixing it so that the Nasty Bastard of the story got stung by a bee and went into anaphylactic shock in the hospital canteen. I can't remember anything else about the story - I must look it up, now I've started thinking about it!

Well, although that did get published, and I was quite fond of the story, I've never written another ghost story since - my short stories are mostly 'relationship based' (so are my novels, come to that) - but I suddenly had an urge, the other week, to write a humorous, contemporary ghost story. No idea where the urge came from, but I sat down and wrote it - just like that (as Tommy Cooper would have said) - and was pleased with the result. Whether or not the editor I've sent it to will feel the same way is, of course, another matter!

My point is - where do these urges come from? And why? Why did I just wake up one morning with the feeling I wanted to write a ghost story, when I'd only ever written one once before in my whole (long) life? Why, for instance, did I once, on a holiday in Tenerife years ago, suddenly decide to write a story about a lucky elephant, of all things? It was one of those rare, lucky events where the story just flowed like magic, was written in a couple of hours and was successful - but I didn't have a clue where the idea came from.

Well, considering that sometimes I'm totally stumped for what to write next, I suppose I should just be grateful that these weird ideas come out of the blue when I least expect them!

Writing competitions

2009-06-07T10:46:00.004+01:00

Just two days after writing, in my last post, about my daughter's writing successes, I opened my new copy of 'Writing Magazine' and there was her name, on the competitions page - she's been short-listed again for another of her short stories! I felt just as excited as I do when I get any sort of acceptance myself - I knew it would give her some much-needed encouragement. And that's half the battle for all writers, isn't it - we so badly need reassurance, to be told that our writing isn't crap, that we're not wasting our time. Well - if we enjoy what we're doing I don't actually think we're ever wasting our time; but being told that what we've written is good, is surely our holy grail. It must be a hangover from school days - getting an A, or 10 out of 10, or a star, making us feel that our efforts are worthwhile.

I always mention the competitions in writing magazines, when I give talks about how to get started as a writer. I actually got started myself by entering them - and I know several other authors who did the same. I won a first prize in the very first competitions held by 'Writers' News', went on to win another one a couple of years later and was then awarded their 'Winner of Winners' shield for a year. I don't think they do this any more - but the boost of confidence it gave me was just immeasurable. I only started submitting stories to magazines after these wins: I started, finally, to believe in myself as a writer, having spent my entire life since childhood dreaming of being one but thinking it could never happen.

Looking back now, I feel some irritation at my own immaturity and lack of self confidence. How did I think it could ever happen, if I did nothing about it - didn't even try, didn't even attempt to learn how to go about it! It was almost as if I needed someone to give me permission to believe in myself: and those competitions did it for me.

I suspect that there are far more entrants now - I've no idea how many, but it must be thousands. The competition is surely far more fierce, the standard higher than ever - so my daughter has done brilliantly to have been shortlisted twice. As there are fewer and fewer markets these days for short stories, it's great that all the writing magazines give these opportunities for aspiring writers to succeed. They also teach us the converse and equally important lesson - that we will often not succeed; that even after several successes, we'll continue to have plenty of failures and rejections, that this is par for the course, and doesn't mean we're not as good as we were before, or that we should give up!

Like all of us, this still happens to me often - sometimes in the most depressing and disappointing ways. But while picking myself up and dusting myself down, I can at least look back to winning those competitions, and other exciting milestones along the way like having my first story accepted, my first book published. And hopefully there will always be new 'firsts' to celebrate - for instance, this month I had my first story published in 'Candis' magazine. And it's still a thrill!

So if you've never thought of entering a competition - go for it! And good luck.

Marrakech - and chasing your dreams

2009-06-03T20:33:00.004+01:00

We had a few days away last week: every year over the bank holiday at the end of May we do a 'city break' with a group of ten friends. We've done it for ten years now so it's become something of a tradition. We take it in turns to choose the destination, and this year it was Marrakech. Well yes, we enjoyed it, soaked up the culture and the atmosphere, nearly got run over by the motorbikes, frazzled in the heat, had the mandatory illnesses, suffered the inevitable delays at the airports, and arrived home (pretty much) safe and sound. And - this week I've written two new short stories - one about a Moroccan family and how they get involved in tourism, and the other about how another family is affected by an airport delay and a TV talent show. (I'll leave you to deduce the inspiration for that bit!). As usual, I'm pleased with the stories, but it remains to be seen whether anyone shares my enthusiasm!

One of my daughters is also a writer in her spare time - she has a full time job and commutes to London so she doesn't get a lot of it (spare time) - but she's done really well, writing a column in a local magazine as well as selling features to some nationals and being short-listed in a fiction competition. I keep reminding her that at her age, all I was doing was thinking 'one of these days when I've got time, I'll write a book', and doing nothing whatsoever about it. I had three small children but my problem was not having enough faith in myself as a writer, rather than lack of time.

Now, I'm in the fortunate position of being wholly employed as a writer. Not that it earns me a living, but I've been able to retire early from the day job. Sometimes I feel just a little bit guilty - I'm not quite OAP age, and not exactly decrepit yet, and I wonder if really, I ought to still be doing a 'proper job' and writing in my spare time, as I always did until a year or so ago. But then there comes a day, like yesterday, when I've got on top of the household chores and spent the whole of a beautiful sunny afternoon in the shade on my patio, working on my laptop, and the writing has gone really well, and - well, there's just no feeling like it in the world. And I end up deciding not to feel guilty that I'm finally, after all these years, doing what I've always really wanted to do.

And here's why. My dad looked forward to retiring for as long as I could remember, but he never reached retirement age - he died when he was only a year or so older than I am now. My maternal grandparents had only been retired for a couple of years when they both died in a road accident. I'm not making a sad story out of this! But I don't suppose I've ever completely got over the shock of losing any of them at such unfairly young ages ... my poor mum certainly never did, although she never became gloomy about it but got on and made the best of her life. For me, it's given me a certainty that we should, as far as is possible and taking into account our health and finances, do the things we really want to do while we're still able. If your dream is to take a special holiday, or to reduce your working hours, or to have a lovely wedding or start a family - or to take early retirement and concentrate on your writing! - whatever your dream is - don't put if off. As long as you can afford it, go for it. And be happy!

Feedback

2009-05-05T19:33:00.004+01:00

I sent two more stories to 'The People's Friend' the other week - as they've accepted, and published, a couple from me recently. Although they've still got some older ones under consideration, I was amazed and very chuffed to get a letter almost straight back (they still use snail-mail) about the two new ones. Not accepting either of them - but giving me some really useful feedback, including the offer of looking again at one of them if I was willing to re-write it. The editor had apparently really enjoyed it, but wanted to see it written in a different style, to appeal more to their readership.

Of course, I had the option of keeping the story as it was, and sending it to one of the other magazines (although, of course, they might all have hated it anyway!) - but I feel quite strongly that this sort of feedback is so valuable and the encouragement so wonderful (!) that I'd rather re-write the story and re-submit to PF. If they don't end up taking it, I can still submit the first version elsewhere, but I'm really hoping they like my re-worked version. And you know what? I've ended up liking the new version more than the original!

Feedback like this from magazine editors isn't very common these days - not surprising given the number of submissions they have to deal with - which makes me appreciate it all the more when it happens. Being given the opportunity to re-work and re-submit is like being handed a gift, and I think only a very foolish writer would say 'No way - I like my story/article/novel exactly the way it is and I'm not changing it for anyone'!

Speaking as someone who had to re-write almost an entire novel last year, believe me I do know how painful a re-write can be. But it's got to be worth it, if the end result is a better book, or a better story, or one that better meets the editor's requirements. And yes, my re-written novel did eventually get accepted for publication: it's the book that's being released in a couple of months' time.

Feedback can be good or bad (needless to say I've had both over the years!) - but I think it's always better than those dreaded standard rejection letters without any reason given. Do you agree?

The Waiting Game

2009-04-23T17:02:00.004+01:00

I've decided that writers must be the most patient and philosphical people in the world. Well - those who aren't, probably won't be writers for long because, unless you're one of those rare and much-envied 'overnight successes', being endlessly patient and able to cast off disappointments with a brave shrug seem to be basic requirements of the job. Is there any other profession where you could spend months of your life working on something, followed by further months, or even years, waiting for a decision on its merit by people who often haven't got the time even to comment on what's wrong with it? In a 'normal' job, would you cheerfully agree to re-work something that you've already spent all your free time on, with the very real possibility that you could end up still not being paid for it? Not being paid - but still being politely, humbly grateful for whatever criticism is made about the work, as the criticism might be useful next time you put yourself through the whole process!

And yet ... and yet: we absolutely love what we're doing, don't we. The pay (if you ever get any) isn't good, the hours are open-ended, there are no colleagues and nobody to help with I.T problems - but what about that feeling you have when a story, or a chapter, goes JUST right, when you're so pleased with it you can't believe you actually wrote it. And ask me about the sheer, total joy we get from an acceptance! Any acceptance, no matter how small, no matter how poorly paid! Then, all the waiting, all the disappointments, all the frustration don't count for anything.

My good news is that the latest synopsis attempt for the planned New Series has just had a thumbs-up from Lovely Agent - and now I enter Stage Two of the wait again, as we wonder what the publishers will say about this new version. Meanwhile I'll be practising that philosophical shrug, in case of another rejection. Oh - and getting on with writing something else while I'm waiting. Of course!

Back already!

2009-04-14T15:03:00.004+01:00

Where did those five weeks disappear to?! Well, I can't complain - we had the most fantastic time imaginable in New Zealand, saw sights I'll never forget and have got the 1,000 or so photos to prove it! (Digital photography has a lot to answer for! It's taken me over a week to sort through the pics and choose the best 400 - 500!!). New Zealand is such a beautiful country - especially the South Island where the scenery was just stunning: everywhere, every day there were views to gasp at. We enjoyed Campervan life and I'd say it's definitely the best way to explore NZ - the roads are so quiet and driving so stress-free, and there's no shortage of excellent campsites with all the necessary facilities. It was great, too, to spend time with my brother and sister-in-law who live in Australia and accompanied us on the trip. Best memories? Although it's hard to choose, I'd say: the ski-plane flight we took, up over the mountains to the top of one of the glaciers where we landed on the snow; the two fjiords we visited - Milford Sound and Doubtful Sound - both absolutely beautiful; the lovely scenery of the northern coast of the South Island; and the wild and windy Catlins Coast at the very south - where we almost fell over a rare NZ Sealion, resting on a sand-dune, and found a Yellow-eyed Penguin standing to attention amongst the rocks. The picture here, by the way, is of a rainbow over the lovely Doubtful Sound - definitely one of our 'Wow' moments!

For the first time (ever, I think!), I had a complete break from writing. Of course, there were ideas taking shape ... but nothing put down on paper. An e-mail from my agent during the holiday told me that the latest, improved version of the synopses for my proposed new series of novels had had a mixed reaction from the publisher: OK in parts, but still needed more changes. All this has sapped my confidence somewhat: up till now, I've always written an entire novel and just submitted it - none of this synopsis-writing and re-writing! However, I'm sure it will be worth it in the end so I've now re-written it yet again, trying to convince myself it's a good exercise in itself, if nothing else!

Meanwhile there has been good news too. A proposal I'd submitted to one of the writing magazines for a feature has been accepted, and I've also sold two more short stories: one, finally, to Woman's Weekly (where I previously sold many of my stories, but this time around I was having no luck at all). It's the story I wrote a little while before going away, and had a really good feeling about, so I've got an even better feeling about it now!! And the other acceptance, amazingly, is from Candis - which has really cheered me up, as I know their selection process is particularly difficult (and they pay well, too!).

So: back to work (now that I'm finally beginning to shake off the dreaded jet-lag!), and - onwards and upwards. The third book under my pseudonym comes out at the beginning of July, so there's that to look forward to, as well as another wedding, and a baby, to come this year in the family. I'm so thankful that I no longer have a day-job to go back to!!

A long break - and hopefully lots of inspiration!

2009-02-25T15:06:00.003Z

This will be my last post here for quite a while, as I'm off on my travels in a couple of days' time. That sounds good, doesn't it! This is, in fact, the Senior Citizen version of the 'travelling' that our kids did during their twenties. The Husband and I both turn 60 this year: in fact his birthday was on Saturday (duly celebrated!), although I've got to wait another 7 months for my bus pass. And we've promised ourselves this trip for years - to New Zealand, where we're going to tour the country in a campervan. If you think that sounds like roughing it, think again - the van has toilet, shower, microwave, heater and CD player, although I guess it'll still be a bit different from a hotel room and restaurant service! We've got 2 nights in Hong Kong en route, so altogether we'll be away for 5 weeks - an unheard-of length of time to be away from home - and as the NZ climate at this time of year could do almost anything, it looks like I'll have to take my entire wardrobe!

I'd planned, craftily, to set part of my Now-Defunct-More-Serious-Novel in New Zealand so that I could do some research and writing while away, but as that's now died a death, I'm hoping at least that I'll be able to spend time thinking about the New-Series-of-Not-Serious-Novels, especially if I happen to get lucky and hear from Lovely Editor about the synopses - and perhaps also to get inspired by the beautiful scenery or the pitfalls of campervan life to write a few short stories!

If nothing else, I hope to come back refreshed and invigorated, (but will probably crawl off the plane exhausted from jet lag). So - see you back here in April! Have a nice March, everyone!

Back to the Drawing Board!

2009-02-18T20:02:00.004Z

I've always been fond of saying that nothing a writer writes is ever wasted - for one thing it's all good practice for something better, and for another, if it's never used it can be 'plundered' for ever for bits of plots, dialogue, characters, whatever you think in retrospect might be useable elsewhere. It's a good job that's always been my philosophy, because I now have (to add to all my previous non-starters), the half of the first draft I'd so far written of what was to be My New Serious Novel. Unfortunately, my lovely new agent has now heard back from my lovely editor, who really doesn't want any part of the New Serious Novel, or the synopses of Numbers 2 & 3 Serious Novels which were intended to follow it. If I sound less suicidal about this than you might expect, I should add that she also said some nice things about the way I'd written all my books thus far, (which have not been Serious Novels), giving me a very clear indication that I should really stick to what I'm good at!

Lovely New Agent and I have agreed that in today's market this is really very good advice, and I reckon that to ignore such good advice about what they would like to publish next from me, if I can come up with the goods, would be like chopping off the hand of someone reaching out to save me from drowning. I should know - I did a lifesaving course, years ago, and found something about stepping into the deep end of the pool wearing pyjamas and shouting 'I am a lifesaver and I'm coming to help you!' so ridiculous and amusing that I was the one in danger of drowning myself, by giggling in deep water with pyjamas on.

Anyway, I've mentally dusted myself down and here I go again: the new challenge is three new synopses for three new books, this time much more in line with my previously published (Not Serious) novels - and the strange thing is I'm looking forward to it. Although the idea of writing something as completely different as The Serious Novel was exciting, I admit I was finding it much more difficult and a bit unnatural for me. Maybe, another time, in another climate, I'll get to have another bash at it. But for now, I think that doing what comes naturally will, hopefully, give me more chance of success.

Lists (and lists of lists)

2009-02-11T14:04:00.003Z

I wish I didn't need lists. I wish I was one of those people who could just remember things, without needing them, but I'm a compulsive list-writer and I never really feel secure without them.

For instance, we're going on a trip abroad in a few weeks and already (before I've even got to the stage of the list of what to pack), I've got a very comprehensive list of things I have to do before we go. Some of the items on the list are actually reminders to make other lists, which does have the scent of neurosis about it, but if I didn't put these things on the list, I just know I'd be worried sick about forgetting them.

I write myself lists of people I must remember to phone or e-mail; lists of jobs I need to do at home; and obviously there's always an ongoing shopping list and list of things I need to do next time I'm in town. My novel-in-progress wouldn't progress without the list of ideas I have for it, to say nothing of its list of chapters, list of characters and of course my list of ideas for future books and short stories.

If this all makes me sound like a very ultra-organised person, then I'm giving the wrong impression. You haven't seen my lists. They don't conform to any recognisable shape or form. Some are scribbled on stick-it notes, some are in notebooks, some lurk in the depth of my handbag, some are on scrap paper in folders where I hope it's logical for me to find them when I need them.

And that's the most worrying thing about this whole reliance on lists. What the hell happens if you lose them? If there was a sudden disappearance of all the lists in our house, my life would grind to a halt. But it's no good now trying to wean myself off the habit - my memory isn't good enough to manage without writing things down. Diaries, address books, reminders on the computer, all these have their place and I use them all - but there's nothing quite like a list for providing the comforting deception that everything is under control.

When I first started this Blog, I made a list of topics I wanted to write about. I've never been able to find it since. I wonder what was on it!

An agent!

2009-02-04T13:03:00.003Z

Well - after all these years of writing, and having seven books published, it looks like I've finally got myself an agent! At least, we're working together on my next submission, and I've been promised a contract in the post - so I'm quite optimistic. I'm quite excited about it too: she seems keen on my idea for the next book, which is helpful as I'm already writing the first draft! - and she's working with me on the synopsis, and plans for others to follow.

So - you may well ask: why? Having done the deals on my previous books on my own, why do I want an agent now? It's a question I've struggled with myself for years, believe me!

When I wrote the first book (not the first one I ever wrote, but the one that eventually got published!), I did the round of agents first, like everyone does, and despite some 'nice' rejections, (if there is such a thing!), got nowhere. So I tried going direct to the publishers, and finally an editor liked it enough to accept it - and the others since. So far, so fantastic! I still have trouble believing I'm a published novelist sometimes - it was my lifetime's ambition. This was only seven years ago, and although it was hard enough to get published then, it seems to be even harder now. Times have changed, publishers won't take chances, (unless you're a celebrity), and I'm certainly not on the bestseller lists, so I'm always aware that every contract could be my last!

I've often wondered whether I'd do better with an agent: I'm not a business person, and flounder with contracts, hate dealing with money issues. But the thought of giving up a percentage of my meagre earnings tended to put me off! Finally, though, I've decided to take the plunge, and take a chance on whether I actually do improve my lot by doing so. In these worrying times, the thought of having someone completely 'on my side', working with me to get everything from idea to synopsis to final draft just right, fighting for me to get the best deal (hopefully!), advising me and acting as intermediary with the publisher - feels like a very reassuring idea. That's not to say my relationship with my publisher is anything other than good - particularly my editor, who is lovely.

So - I won't say any more just now, but I'm hoping this will be a positive new development in my writing career. Nothing ventured, nothing gained!

A Visit from The Good Writing Fairy

2009-01-28T19:15:00.005Z

Some writing days go better than others, which I suppose is a bit like saying sometimes it rains, sometimes it's sunny - pretty obvious. But when there are a couple of warm, sunny days together, in the UK anyway, it's worth talking about, so I reason that it's worth being cheerful when two consecutive writing days go well!

Yesterday I made good progress with the first draft of my new novel, about which I feel a mixture of excitement and self-doubt, as it's completely different from any of my previous books and I have no idea (yet) whether my editor - or anyone else come to that! - is going to be interested in it. But at least the writing is going well, most of the time ...

And today, I woke up with a brilliant idea for a new short story (oh yes, I always think they're brilliant until the story gets rejected!). Today's story was half-written in my head by the time I'd had breakfast, written on the computer by lunchtime and edited to within an inch of its life by dinnertime. I love it, but that doesn't mean a thing, of course, if nobody else ever gets to read it ... so fingers crossed when it goes off through cyberspace to meet its possible doom.

And, just to make it a really good day, I also had a very interesting chat to an agent, but I'm not saying any more about that just yet, as it's early days and nothing's yet decided. Thus far into my writing career, I've managed without the help of an agent, but I'm thinking that the time might have come to change all that. Watch this space ... !

How do you do it?

2009-01-19T11:11:00.005Z

There are several questions we all seem to be frequently asked, as writers. One that makes me smile is 'Do you make a living out of it?' - to which my answer is normally 'That depends on what you call living!' Another is 'Where do you get your ideas?' - which is a bit like asking a sculptor where he gets his stone, or an artist where he gets his paint! Ideas are just the raw material - they're the easy bit.

But one of the things I'm most commonly asked is whether I have a 'routine'. You know - we all like reading those features in magazines about famous authors: how they get up at a certain time every day, go for a long walk and are at their desks by nine o'clock, etc, etc. I was interested to read a post at Strictly Writing which discussed this, too, and referring to the difficulty of staying motivated when you work at home.
http://www.strictlywriting.blogspot.com

Well, until last year I was working at a day-job, and my writing 'routine' consisted of squeezing whatever time I could spare for writing into my day after getting home from work, cooking meals, doing the shopping, etc etc. Routine? Chance would have been a fine thing! I used to read those famous-author features and wonder: Why? Why the hell do they want to be so confined to routine, to working nine till five with an hour for lunch, or whatever, when they're based at home all day and can write whenever the hell they like?

So now I'm a full-time author myself (albeit not a famous one!), I'm not getting up at any particular time. I'm not at my desk at nine o'clock. I don't necessarily stop at five o'clock. Sometimes that's when I start! Sometimes I work all morning and go out in the afternoons. Sometimes I work the whole day, sometimes I work at weekends, sometimes I don't. Why do I need to worry about the clock? I had enough of that, the whole of my working life - I'm my own boss now, a free agent, and as long as I devote enough time to my writing to complete my books on time, I can do it at whatever time suits me. I can write at my desk, or on my laptop in the sunshine in my conservatory, or (in the summer!) in the shade in the garden. I can write with a glass of wine beside me, the cat on my lap, wearing my old clothes or huddled in my dressing-gown and slippers. As for staying motivated: I'm doing the thing I enjoy most - the hobby I've enjoyed all my life, which I'm now free to pursue whenever I like! Why do I need motivation? It was getting up on cold mornings to go to work that used to require motivation!

After years of being beholden to others, of being told what time to be where and how to do everything, the freedom of my new life is absolutely wonderful and I don't think I'll ever tire of it. Of course I miss the regular income - but some things are worth more than money!

So I can't give a sensible answer to the question of how I plan my writing days! I don't!

In praise of good editing

2009-01-12T13:52:00.004Z

The good news is that the lovely editor at 'People's Friend' has just accepted another short story - and despite the fact that her letter also enclosed one which she was rejecting, I'm not downhearted - because she's given me such helpful feedback on the rejected story. What a difference that makes! And once again I'm reminded what a skilful job an editor does, and how important it is to work with one you trust.

In the case of this rejected short story, every point made by the editor concerned something that - if only I'd perhaps been able to take a step back from the story and look at it through a different pair of eyes - I should have realised myself. This character would surely not have behaved like that, because of this, and the other character would have surely not said that - etc. Why didn't I see these things myself? It's a bit too glib to say: because I'm not an editor, I'm a writer! While this is certainly true, we writers do have to try to become something of an editor of our own work, and if I was better at it, I'd have picked up on those points before sending off the story that I thought was rather good, and can now see is pretty rubbish!

This is true, too, of my novels, which obviously take a lot more editing. I'm fortunate to have an excellent editor at my publishing house, who on the one hand gives me confidence by professing to love my work, and on the other hand goes through my manuscripts ruthlessly questioning everything, from the characters' moods and motivations, to the way the readers are likely to react to things they do and say, to the timing of the plot, the endings of the chapters, and of course the all-important final paragraph! Sometimes I feel absolutely mortified when I read her list of suggested revisions, wondering if I'm a total failure and whether I'll ever be able to work in all those changes and get the thing right. But almost as soon as I get started on the revisions, some strange magic starts to happen. I do think of a way to make that character's motivation more clear, and a way to make this dialogue more realistic, and so on, so that by the time I've finished I'm so much happier with the book, I can't believe I was ever satisfied with it before I submitted it! It needed that fresh pair of eyes - and the talent of an editor who knows how to make a story the very best it can be. Ideally, an author and editor should work together as a team to produce just that, and as I don't have an agent, it's doubly important for me to get along with my editor and appreciate what she does.

As in every aspect of writing, I reckon it's a very foolish writer who resents editorial criticism and is reluctant to change a single word of their precious prose. Nobody's so good that they can't be improved, and if we want our work to be published, we ought to grasp all the help we're offered!

You have to laugh ...

2009-01-07T14:12:00.001Z

Well, needless to say it's never all good news. Having calmed down from my excitement about the PLR statement last night and had a celebratory glass of wine (!), I then checked my e-mails and found one from Candis, rejecting one of the short stories I'd sent them last summer. Nothing unusual in that whatsoever. In fact, considering the odds against having a story accepted by Candis - just about the best-paying market for short stories that I've ever heard of, and one of the most difficult to get into (they choose only one per month, and have a very rigorous selection process) - the most surprising thing is that I've had the cheek to submit to them at all. But what made this e-mail slightly odd was that they'd already rejected this particular story back in November, and in fact it's now languishing on another editor's desk at another magazine. I couldn't help laughing: it must be some sort of record to have the same story rejected twice by the same magazine. I did think to check with them that it was just a duplication, and not a case of wrong title (as I have another one waiting in the wings for their decision too) - but was further crushed to be told that, sorry, yes, it was a duplication, and they had no record of receiving my more recent story so could I please send it again? Ah well, at least they didn't say not to bother!

Thank God for PLR!

2009-01-06T13:57:00.001Z

Happy New Year! And how is it going for you so far?

Thanks to another member of a writing forum I belong to (the on-line chapter of the Romantic Novelists' Association), I found out today that our annual PLR statements are now available. That's Public Lending Right -which is a small payment for authors, representing the number of times their books are borrowed from public libraries - and thank God for it, I say! My income from sales of my books is paltry, as I'm one of those lesser-known authors whose titles are hidden away at the back of Waterstones (if I'm lucky enough to feature on their shelves at all!). PLR is currently set at less than 6p per loan of a book - and yet the total from loans of all my books amounts to a pretty decent amount - certainly a good proportion of my income from writing. I do sometimes find myself wishing that even a few of these lovely, lovely people who are borrowing my books from libraries would buy one or two of them! If the books are so popular in the libraries, why aren't they being featured more prominently in bookshops? Why aren't people going into Waterstones etc and asking for them? Oh well, mustn't complain - I'm so pathetically grateful for the PLR payment (not that I'll be getting it for another month - it's just lovely to see the figure on the statement!) - especially as the New Year hasn't got off to a very good start, financially.

First there was the boiler. It's always been temperamental during the 4 years or so we've lived here. Every winter it frequently goes on strike, and only re-starts with great difficulty - and when we've had it 'looked at' by various engineers they've scratched their heads, said they couldn't find anything wrong with it, and charged us for the privilege. This year, it chose to pack up on Boxing Night - when we had the whole family camping overnight on our floors - and wouldn't restart till the next day. Then a few days later, it packed up terminally. A different engineer came to scratch his head over it, and within minutes had diagnosed fatal and dangerous problems, slapped 'Danger' stickers on it and sealed it off, leaving us with no choice but to agree to the major expense of having a new boiler installed - with a cold and cheerless wait of almost a week, bringing back memories of childhood in the 1950s when we washed in cold bathrooms and huddled round the one fire in the house.

About the same time, the computer decided to throw one of its regular tantrums, necessitating another visit from our Computer Whisperer, who sat in our cold study with his coat on, talked to it nicely in computer language and got it going at further expense to us.

And then there was the phone, which had to be replaced because its answerphone had thrown a wobbly and refused to erase messages, with the result that it had filled up and couldn't take any more (much like myself). We went out to buy a new phone, and spent a few more quid having lunch out as it was warmer than being at home.

When the tumble dryer stopped in mid-cycle I thought I was going to cry: but fortunately this turned out to be a mere fuse in the plug that had blown. Like most minor problems, though, it turned into a major fiasco with the Old Man having to move the dishwasher and the washing machine out of their positions as well as the dryer itself, and climb into the space under the sink, to get to the plug.

We now have a nice new boiler, we're warm, we're enjoying hot showers, we can receive answerphone messages, use the computer and the dryer, but we're financially crippled before the year's even a week old. The next payment I can confidently look forward to from my publisher (the last part of the advance on the next book) won't be till July. It's a great lifestyle being a self-employed writer, and I never forget how lucky I am, but I have to admit there was something comforting about being in employment where regular money used to go into my bank account every month! So I'll say it again - thank God for PLR. Thank God for libraries. And thank God for the wonderful people who are borrowing my books!

Tis the season to be poorly, tra la la la la (etc)

2008-12-18T19:01:00.001Z

Well, here we are, one week to go, and as usual half the population seems to be suffering from a cold or some other dreaded lurg. I've been Off Blog for a while as (a) had a copy-edit to do on the next novel, with only 4 days to do it in, and (b) have had The Thing That's Going Around, and have felt very sorry for myself I can tell you. I almost felt like a man a few days ago (I did say almost), the way I was whingeing and complaining. But honestly - is it fair? I don't often get ill. The last time was on my holiday, and then it's always, always, around Christmas. I know it's the same for almost everyone - I know that because as soon as I tell anyone I've been feeling rough, the response is: 'Oh, everyone in my family/my office/my school, is off sick with that.' When you work from home, of course, it's not necessary to go 'off sick' - which is a huge luxury after years of struggling into work feeling like death warmed up when all you felt like doing was staying in bed, rather than have black 'absence' marks against you, threatening to get you dismissed. That's not remotely a joke, believe me.

For most of my life I worked for the NHS, as a medical secretary. There's a perplexing conundrum about working in a hospital. On the one hand, you're expected to be brave and strong, turn up for work against all odds because that's the nature of the job, your team needs you, there's never enough staff at the best of times, etc. On the other hand, you're not supposed to be carrying filthy germs into the place to infect all the patients, never mind the rest of the staff. It was very much a question of being damned if you did and damned if you didn't. Many a time I huddled close to my computer, sniffing miserably to myself, aware of colleagues covering their faces and opening windows to expel the germs. In fact opening windows in the winter, (I was once told by a geriatrician I worked for long ago), is one of the main reasons why British people suffer so much bronchitis - believing cold, damp outside air to be better for them than their nice warm homes.

But I'm digressing as usual. The point I wanted to make, whilst whingeing about my illness, is that it wasn't Flu. Not man Flu, not even woman Flu. Have you ever had Flu? If it lasted less than 3 weeks, and if you were able to stand up, then trust me, you haven't. I get a Flu jab because I'm asthmatic (and I used to get one anyway, courtesy of the hospital I worked for - Keep 'Em Healthy, Keep 'Em Working!) - so I'm not quite so likely, I hope and pray, to get it again - although I know it's not guaranteed. Flu Proper is a killer. Have it just once, and you'll never again refer to a virus that makes you feel rough for a week as Flu . I'm quite a stickler on this subject, and it irritates me when people walk about as normal, perhaps with a runny nose and a cough, and tell me they've got the Flu.

So it was even more mortifying to find myself thinking earlier this week - after the initial aches and pains had mutated into a horrible cold, then into a raging temperature with a headache and sore throat, to feeling sick and faint, and the final indignity as it still hadn't killed me off, to an upset stomach - 'I feel like I've got Flu!'

Stupid woman, of course you haven't had Flu, I can tell myself now that I'm beginning to surface again and can think straight. But the point is, it feels like it, so I should perhaps be more understanding. Cold is a silly misnomer for a whole swathe of viruses that can actually attack you in any foul, miserable way they choose, affect everyone differently every time around, and can range from something little more than an inconvenience to an illness that makes you feel so ghastly you wonder why you've bothered with the Christmas shopping cos there's no way you're going to last another week. And of course, you don't get much sympathy, as it's only a cold. Is that why men like to say they've got Flu - for the sympathy? Let's call these buggers (the viruses, not men) what they really are: a Flu-Like Virus. That way, you might get the sympathy, and the time off work, but still be better in a week or so.

For the sake of anyone just coming down with The Thing That's Going Around, I hope and pray it's even less than a week. And have a lovely, healthy Christmas, everyone!

Christmas Wonder-Woman Land

2008-12-04T15:39:00.001Z

It's about this time of year that the hysteria starts to really set in. I thought it might stop after the children grew up: in those days, from the end of November onwards it always felt as though we were treading a fine line between excitement and tears, as the countdown to Father Christmas was heralded by the furtive rustling of paper behind closed doors and the quarrels over whose turn it was to open the Advent calendar (don't be silly, we couldn't afford one each in those days! And anyway, it was character forming, taught them how to share and take turns!!).

Now, it's just me who gets hysterical. Christmas shopping, which I refuse to start until we're properly into December, is lovely but why does everyone else have to do it too? Where do all these people come from? Why do they all have cars, and want to park them in the same car park as me? Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against catching the bus. Don't start me off on that subject or I'll bore you to tears with stories of how (before I had a car) I used to go everywhere on public transport with two toddlers in a twin buggy and a baby in a harness-thing. See, I'm boring you to tears already. But the point is, in those days I was young-ish and strong-ish, which I didn't appreciate at the time but I certainly do now, as soon as I attempt to carry more than one bag of Christmas presents back to the car through the crowds. How did I do it then, with all the children, and all the bags of toys and games, travelling by bus, AND keeping all the purchases secret? I must have been Wonder Woman, there's no two ways about it. I'd like my children to know, right now, that their mother was Wonder Woman, OK?

Hysteria starts to really set in when the adult children and I discuss present-buying for each other by e-mail: each of us having to be careful to leave the e-mail address of the intended recipient out of the 'Reply All'. It gets even sillier when we start discussing what we're all buying their dad, or their other halves. One daughter has just taken delivery of a very strange shaped present (very strange present, actually, but there you go), for her husband, which she's had to crawl around the house trying to find a hiding place for. For some reason we all found this hilarious. Last year I couldn't find a hiding place for my husband's present - a huge, framed picture - so I gave up and stuck it under a duvet on top of the spare wardrobe. The result was a very bizarre-looking bundle, but he walked past it every day without noticing. I might as well have hung it on the wall with a label attached!

But I still cringe at the memory of the strangest thing I ever hid on top of a wardrobe. When the kids were all very young, we noticed a horrible smell in our bedroom, getting stronger and stronger as Christmas approached. Finally, on Christmas Eve, arriving home from a carol service where Eldest Daughter had been dressed as Mary and Middle Daughter as a donkey (tastefully done, in brown tights and jumper, a brown woolly hat with cardboard ears attached, and a plaited wool tail with which she entertained the congregation by pulling it through her legs and twirling it - she was only 3) - I decided I couldn't stand the smell any more and that it was definitely coming from the top of my wardrobe. I'd already checked up there, and found only the empty carrier bags I'd hidden all the presents in before wrapping them; but now Husband investigated more thoroughly and I'll never forget his face as he withdrew his hand from one of the bags. I must have been to the butchers one day as well as doing the Christmas shopping. The pork chops were certainly past their sell-by date. I could get hysterical today just thinking about it - especially as I'm the vegetarian in the family! Wonder Woman, eat your heart out.

Success!

2008-11-25T19:25:00.001Z

Yesterday started in typical fashion, with an e-mail from 'Candis', who had been considering a couple of my stories since June and July, saying (very nicely) sorry, but no. Two more crossed off the list! And then today, a brown envelope from 'The People's Friend', who use the post rather than e-mail. Here we go, I thought - another rejection - steeling myself to be brave and strong as I opened it. But - amazingly - it was an acceptance. My first since trying to get back into the short story market - and my first ever with 'The Friend', which henceforth will be known as 'My Best Friend' and becomes my best loved magazine! The payment isn't as great as some of the other mags - but it's a whole lot more than my last royalty payment as a novelist (for anyone who's shocked to hear that, hold on, I'll be blogging about An Author's Lot another time, and be warned, it might bring tears to your eyes and send you rushing to donate to the Destitute Author's Fund) - and It's A Start! So I hesitated for approximately five seconds before sending off my agreement to sell that lovely, lovely little story to my favourite magazine. And as I've got another five stories in the pipeline with them, there's a nice little spark of optimism in my heart this evening as I get down to the ironing (sigh). Worth waiting for!

Christmas puddings and all that steamy stuff

2008-11-18T16:54:00.001Z

I've had a writing-free day today, and I don't feel at all guilty, because I've actually, for once in my life, been acting like a Domestic Goddess. This is to quote the words of one of my recently married daughters, who reckons that since the wedding she has suddenly, inexplicably, become a cook and a seamstress. Every time I speak to her during a weekend, she seems to have just made scones, or a cake, or a pudding, and she's now mastered the sewing-machine which was pretty much a family heirloom and I've got visions of her making her own curtains like I once did, badly, for her own bedroom when she was a teenager - out of red bed-sheets.

But back to my own Domestic Goddess episode. I don't do a lot of cooking these days, other than the essential stuff for dinner. I was married very young and spent my entire youth - when I should (in retrospect) have perhaps been partying all night and trekking round India - making chocolate puddings and fruit cakes, so the novelty kind of wore off somewhere round about 1980, and became past history once I was a published writer as well as working full-time, clearing up after a man, children, cats and dogs and trying to have a life at the same time.

However - one thing I have done without fail every year since my first married Christmas is to make my own Christmas puddings - and I usually do so during November. Although I actually subscribe heartily to the 'Don't talk to me about ***** Christmas until December' school of thought, and have been known to become so enraged by shops playing Christmas carols and putting up their decorations in September that I've walked out, muttering like a cantankerous old woman (surely not!) - I've always made an exception with the puddings. I think it must have been drummed into me by my mum, along with stuff like not talking with my mouth full and not scribbling on books (I still cringe when I see toddlers allowed to do that) - that Christmas pudding is better the earlier it's made. It's a wonder I don't make it in April; but there always comes a day during November - I can't predict when it will be, so I have to buy all the dried fruit, almonds, suet and stuff in advance - when I'll wake up thinking: Today's Pudding Day.

And so it was, today. I may be a reluctant Domestic Goddess, but I do love Pudding Day. I don't know whether it's the smell of the freshly grated nutmeg, (not to mention the brandy), or the warmth of the kitchen once the puddings are in their basins and steaming away on the stove, or the fact that I use half a bottle of Guinness in the mixture and there's obviously only one place where the other half is going to end up. It reminds me comfortingly of all my pregnant Christmas-times (well, there were only three, and two of them were touch and go as the babies arrived within days of Christmas Day). Back then, probably much to the horror of doctors nowadays, we were positively encouraged to 'build ourselves up' by the regular intake of Guinness, and using up the Pudding Guinness certainly felt like a particularly welcome treat after all that weighing and stirring and wishing (I presume everyone knows you have to make a wish when you're stirring the Christmas pud), when I was eight months or more pregnant.

Back then, I should imagine my Pudding Wishes centred around the next baby arriving safe and well and preferably not being born on Christmas Day, please. Now ... well, obviously Pudding Wishes have to be kept secret or they won't come true. And I can't tell you whether they do come true or not, because by Christmas, never mind by this time next year, I'll have forgotten what I wished for. I suppose that's half the fun of it. Happy Pudding-Days to anyone else contemplating being a Domestic Demi-Goddess!

Short stories: Easy-Peasy?

2008-11-09T10:19:00.001Z

Anyone interested in writing short stories? If so, you might start out with the idea that it's pretty easy. A thousand words or two, a simple plot (maybe boy meets girl, etc?), a quick spell-check and you're in with a winner? Unfortunately, like most things, the reality is of course very different - partly because so many people are trying the same thing, the market for short stories isn't huge and so the supply vastly exceeds the demand. Competition is fierce, and only the very best, and most original stories stand a chance of even skimming the editor's desk before being sent back - usually after a wait of anything from three to six months (sometimes even longer!).

I was a short story writer before having my first novel published, and over the course of about ten years my stories were published regularly in magazines like Woman, Woman's Realm (no longer in existence), Woman's Weekly, etc. The payment for these one-page or two-page stories was good, especially when compared with the pitiful financial return most authors see for a year's work on a novel! Having said that, the excitement and pride at seeing your own books on the shelf in a book shop beats everything else, and probably explains why I've concentrated on writing my novels ever since!

During the last six months, though, I've begun to devote some time to writing short stories again alongside the books. Don't get me wrong - I've never pretended it's any easy option: it's a different skill entirely from writing a 100,000 word novel. I always had my share of rejections as well as acceptances, and became a master of the art of changing the length, style and tone of a story in order to send a 'reject' to another magazine whose requirements were different from the original target, rather than waste time feeling disappointed that it didn't make the grade first time around - and being clear-headed enough to know when to give up altogether and accept that a particular story wasn't good enough.

This time around, the markets have changed considerably and it's been a steep learning curve, getting back into the 'game'. I aim to have at least six stories 'out there' with different magazines at any one time (currently 13) - and like a juggler with several balls in the air, when one is 'dropped' I pick it up quickly and send it back into orbit, preferably adding another new one at the same time! I've yet to have one accepted, but I've re-written one story for an editor who liked it but wanted changes made (another important thing is to be more than willing to do so!) - and I'm confident that it's only a matter of time and patience.

Advice for anyone wanting to try their hand? Well, I started, years ago, by entering short story competitions in one of the writing magazines. These are worth buying anyway - loads of advice and interesting stuff in them - and the competitions are great for beginners: they give you a framework, such as a subject or title to work from, a word count, and a deadline. If you're short-listed it gives you a tremendous boost. I was lucky enough to win two first prizes within a couple of years, and I can honestly say that launched my writing career.

Secondly - find out what the various magazines' requirements are. It sounds obvious, but you could waste so much time by sending, for instance, love stories to an editor who only wants crime, or a 2,000-worder to a publication that only takes 750 word mini-stories. No matter how good the story - it won't even get looked at. Most magazines publish their requirements and submission guidelines on the internet, or else will send them to you on request. And there's a blog - http://womagwriter.blogspot.com/ - that I've found really helpful too, with lots of advice from a successful short story writer, including guidelines from all the usual magazines. And invest in several copies of each magazine, read the stories they publish, tear them out and keep them for reference.

As with any form of writing - if we're going about it seriously and professionally, we can't afford to be 'Prima Donnas' and expect our work to be published just because it's good. An editor has to believe it will help to sell their magazine - whether it's good or not! So wish me luck ... and good luck to anyone else with the same ambitions!

To blog or not to blog?

2008-11-07T16:07:00.001Z

Everyone seems to be at it. Famous people, blogging about their lives. Infamous people, blogging about their infamy. People nobody knows, blogging about nothing, that nobody will ever read. I guess I fall into the latter category but: 'You must have a blog!', I keep being told - even though I already have two websites but have resisted all attempts to get me onto Facebook or any of the other social networking sites. I'm a technophobe, for goodness' sake! How am I supposed to keep up with all this stuff? And yet, here I am - blogging, by some miracle of user-friendly science - anonymously, because it quite appeals to me, as a novelist who writes under two different names, to be nameless for a change and say whatever I like without anybody's red editing pen making comments in the margin ... the freedom is quite exhilarating!

What am I going to write about? Who will read it? Will anyone care? Perhaps I might provide a few insights into the life of a writer that could turn out to be interesting or amusing for anyone with similar ambitions, or even provoke sympathy and understanding amongst fellow authors.

My aim in all this? Just a bit of fun, I suppose, and an outlet for my own thoughts which seldom get a look-in while I'm writing the words of my fictional characters, some of whom seem to insist on saying the daftest things that I'd never agree with in a million years.

Previous experience in this sort of stuff? Well, apart from writing diaries in my teens (which, thankfully for everyone on the planet, were ceremonially burned when I grew up), I can only lay claim to having co-written and co-edited an unofficial newsletter at my previous place of work, whose editorials and general content became rather pleasingly notorious for the forthright opinions expressed in them - and which was eventually banned from the workplace and by popular demand reappeared 'underground' on the internet for several years. So perhaps even back then I was a frustrated blogger in the making!