So what do I read when I'm not writing? My main fiction books are crime novels, though I am also very partial to short stories. I also read huge amounts of non-fiction - about writing, self-help, psychology, and spirituality.
Recently I've been having a non-fiction reading marathon. I have read several books by the brilliant Wayne Dyer, and have just discovered Caroline Myss, although I think I prefer listening to her books rather than reading them. I am also a huge fan of the British Taoist guru, The Barefoot Doctor (Stephen Russell), especially his Manifesto, which I have on CD and on paper. He really makes me laugh as well as making me think.
As far as books on writing are concerned, I love Julia Cameron's books, especially The Artist's Way, and have been writing Morning Pages on and off for years as a result of her influence. Nathalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones is another favourite. The Writing Handbooks by Rib Davis on developing characters and writing dialogue also provide lots of food for thought.
When it comes to crime, I like mine gritty, British, and preferably Scottish, so you can probably guess that Ian Rankin is one of my favourite novelists. I also enjoy the up-and-coming Scottish writers, Lin Anderson, Sheila Quigley, Alex Gray, and Stuart MacBride (whose books are set in Aberdeen). I myself hail from Dundee, but I visit Glasgow at least twice a year, so spotting locations on Taggart is one of my favourite television pastimes - 'Look, we've been to that restaurant!' Unfortunately, there isn't a famous Dundonian fictional detective, as far as I am aware.
Non-Scottish crime writers whose books I read regularly include that wonderful husband and wife team, Nicci French, whom I had the pleasure of hearing at the Harrogate Crime Writing Festival; Frances Fyfield (if you can find any talking books by her read by Rula Lenska, you're in for a treat); and MC Beaton whose Agatha Raisin is my number one literary character - feisty, brilliant, dogged, lovelorn, outrageous, and hilarious.
Non-crime writers that I enjoy include Adriana Trigiani, who transports me into another culture so beautifully, especially her Lucia, Lucia, Maeve Binchy for heartwarming page-turners, and Alexander McColl Smith, although I tend to read his Scotland Street books set in Edinburgh rather than his Number One Ladies' Detective Agency series. I find his saxophone-playing child prodigy, Bertie, extremely funny, although, as the mother of a musical prodigy myself, I do wince at times when I spot similarities between myself and his pushy mum!
Do post a comment and let me know if you share any of my favourite reads - or perhaps try out one of the authors I've suggested. Happy reading!
Wednesday, 30 April 2008
Monday, 28 April 2008
She Who Dares
There's a vulnerability about being a writer. It's the feeling that you're not just revealing your talent or lack of it to whoever reads your pieces. You're also baring your soul. You don't just worry that your work will be rejected. You worry because your writing is a reflection of you. When people reject your work, it feels as if they're rejecting you.
This sort of anxiety seems to occur at every level and every age, from the fledgling writer to the acknowledged literary master.
A beginner may turn up at a creative writing class, never having written anything. Perhaps they've written a few things, some poems perhaps, but their writing has languished, unread, in their bottom drawer. How many times have I heard someone say, 'I've never let anyone see these before because I don't know if they're any good' ?
I was at a workshop at the weekend where one very capable lady (an experienced career journalist) was extremely nervous about letting anyone see her poetry. She told us she'd brought along a poem that was 'very old and one that I don't care about too much', so that it wouldn't hurt so much if people hated it.
As it turned out, she needn't have worried. It was a lovely poem, full of telling detail and psychological insight. I bet I wasn't the only one who went home thinking, 'I wish I'd written that.'
But it isn't just beginner writers or people switching to a different type of writing who can fall prey to this kind of insecurity. It can afflict even distinguished, accomplished writers. I suppose in a way, the reason they feel afraid is because they've got further to fall.
That's the trouble with writing. I suppose a writer's apprehension about how their work will be received is a bit like the stage fright that assails musicians or actors. There's the pressure that 'you're only as good as your last performance'.
Writers can get the jitters too. We all have off-days or weeks when we feel we're not producing our best work. Or perhaps the piece we're working on will be excellent one day, but just hasn't quite got there yet.
And everyone has heard of those sad one-hit wonders who create a stir early on in their career with their first published novel or play, but whose subsequent works never quite achieve the same heights of success.
Then there's the person who used to be a big name, at the top of the writing tree for a while, for years even, but fashions change and no one now wants to commission him. A few months ago, I attended a fascinating talk by a wonderful television writer who in his day was a legendary figure, the creator of more than one landmark TV drama series. He still writes, but now he is reduced to giving away playscripts on computer disks to anyone who wants to read them because it's the only way they will ever see the light of day.
So why do people bother to write at all if writing is fraught with so many difficulties. If one's ego is so much at risk, surely writing is a very masochistic activity? Wouldn't it be safer not to bother writing at all, or at least to keep one's writing secret for the sake of one's pride and one's sanity? Maybe those beginner writers who keep their writing locked in the drawer have got the right idea?
But writing is a form of communication, born from the need to communicate.
Communicate not only one's ideas, but one's very self. And it doesn't matter if we writers never earn a penny from our writing, never get published, never make it big. It's the writing that's the important thing. We don't choose to write. We have to write.
And for most of us, there comes a time when we want to share what we've written with somebody, even if it is just the missus or Auntie Freda. We want to know if we've managed to communicate. To see if anyone has managed to get our writing. To see if anyone has managed to get us.
Because if they have, if even one person has, that's worth far most than years and years of costly psychotherapy. It's worth all the insecurity and uncertainty that we've had to suffer. It's worth every drop of lifeblood we've shed from our open wounds.
This sort of anxiety seems to occur at every level and every age, from the fledgling writer to the acknowledged literary master.
A beginner may turn up at a creative writing class, never having written anything. Perhaps they've written a few things, some poems perhaps, but their writing has languished, unread, in their bottom drawer. How many times have I heard someone say, 'I've never let anyone see these before because I don't know if they're any good' ?
I was at a workshop at the weekend where one very capable lady (an experienced career journalist) was extremely nervous about letting anyone see her poetry. She told us she'd brought along a poem that was 'very old and one that I don't care about too much', so that it wouldn't hurt so much if people hated it.
As it turned out, she needn't have worried. It was a lovely poem, full of telling detail and psychological insight. I bet I wasn't the only one who went home thinking, 'I wish I'd written that.'
But it isn't just beginner writers or people switching to a different type of writing who can fall prey to this kind of insecurity. It can afflict even distinguished, accomplished writers. I suppose in a way, the reason they feel afraid is because they've got further to fall.
That's the trouble with writing. I suppose a writer's apprehension about how their work will be received is a bit like the stage fright that assails musicians or actors. There's the pressure that 'you're only as good as your last performance'.
Writers can get the jitters too. We all have off-days or weeks when we feel we're not producing our best work. Or perhaps the piece we're working on will be excellent one day, but just hasn't quite got there yet.
And everyone has heard of those sad one-hit wonders who create a stir early on in their career with their first published novel or play, but whose subsequent works never quite achieve the same heights of success.
Then there's the person who used to be a big name, at the top of the writing tree for a while, for years even, but fashions change and no one now wants to commission him. A few months ago, I attended a fascinating talk by a wonderful television writer who in his day was a legendary figure, the creator of more than one landmark TV drama series. He still writes, but now he is reduced to giving away playscripts on computer disks to anyone who wants to read them because it's the only way they will ever see the light of day.
So why do people bother to write at all if writing is fraught with so many difficulties. If one's ego is so much at risk, surely writing is a very masochistic activity? Wouldn't it be safer not to bother writing at all, or at least to keep one's writing secret for the sake of one's pride and one's sanity? Maybe those beginner writers who keep their writing locked in the drawer have got the right idea?
But writing is a form of communication, born from the need to communicate.
Communicate not only one's ideas, but one's very self. And it doesn't matter if we writers never earn a penny from our writing, never get published, never make it big. It's the writing that's the important thing. We don't choose to write. We have to write.
And for most of us, there comes a time when we want to share what we've written with somebody, even if it is just the missus or Auntie Freda. We want to know if we've managed to communicate. To see if anyone has managed to get our writing. To see if anyone has managed to get us.
Because if they have, if even one person has, that's worth far most than years and years of costly psychotherapy. It's worth all the insecurity and uncertainty that we've had to suffer. It's worth every drop of lifeblood we've shed from our open wounds.
Friday, 25 April 2008
The Pink Wafer Effect
When you're growing a plant or a flower, you can get it off to a good start with a well-dug bed of top quality soil; you can keep away bugs; you can encourage it to flourish by giving it plenty of water and regular doses of Miracle Gro; but apart from 'forcing' it to mature earlier with a bit of hothousing, you can't actually make it grow.
I know the Prince of Wales is meant to encourage his plants to grow by talking to them, but as far as I know, he doesn't actually say, 'Come on, you little blighters, grow, or else!'
Plants have their own natural growing pattern. You can provide them with optimum conditions, love, care and conversation, perhaps even a little Reiki, but sitting agonizing over them, harrassing them, bullying them, is not going to make them grow the slightest bit faster.
Creativity's a bit like that. Last night, in my class, we were discussing how the writers and co-creators of the Life on Mars TV series came up with the idea for the show and went about writing it. There is a very interesting section in The Official Companion in which the four writers, Matthew Graham, Ashley Pharoah, Tony Jordan, and Chris Chibnall discuss the process of bringing the series to fruition.
One of the things that amazed the students was the fact that the three co-creators went off for a weekend in Blackpool to come up with ideas for television series. OK, so they did hire a small conference room and spend time in it bandying about ideas. But they also got out and about on the Pleasure Beach and spent lots of time playing.
To my adult learners, who in their day jobs are confined to an office from nine to five (or longer) five days a week, it was unthinkable that people who have a limited time together to come up with ideas for a deadline would waste time on playing.
So many beginning writers are used to squeezing their creativity into the odd hour or two that they manage to create for themselves among the obligations of job, family, household chores, tax returns, you name it. You mean some people actually go off and have fun!
I remember that in the American TV series, Thirtysomething, the two ad men, Michael and Elliot, worked in an agency which had basketball nets so they could relax their minds by playing, and thus give themselves space to come up with creative ideas.
One of my students works for an advertising agency, and confirmed that even on our side of the Pond, you do find that sort of thing in creative working environments. One of the companies he worked for even had Playstations in their offices.
To someone who works in local government or education or business, having time to 'waste' like that is just unthinkable. There are targets to be met, schedules to adhere to, timesheets to fill in - in some firms, every minute has to be logged and accounted for.
Of course, even creative people have to meet deadlines and fit in with other people's agendas. But giving your employees, giving yourself, time and space to play, to freewheel, is not time wasted. It's during that 'down time', when you're relaxed, that the 'aha' moments come.
So what are we writers to do? Install a basketball net in our front room so we can have a quick slam dunk? I don't think it would work for me. Ball games were never my strength and I can't say I ever found them relaxing, even when I was young.
But yesterday, while I was waiting for the kettle to boil, I did put on a CD and practise some of the belly dancing moves I'd been learning in my Arabic dance class. It must have made my brain more flexible as well as my waist, for once I went back upstairs to the computer to carry on with my web design work, I managed to solve with ease a Dreamweaver problem that I'd been struggling with all week.
Other times, if I can't think what to write, I'll sit and play the piano for a while. My friend who writes science books has a glass of wine and strums on his guitar. Another has candle-lit baths when she just can't find any inspiration for her romantic novels. And many writers go for a gentle walk when they find themselves at an impasse.
I don't think it really matters what you do. It can be anything you find relaxing, just as long as it gives you some breathing space and takes away from you the pressure to create, just for a few minutes.
It's like trying to remember something that you know when you just can't think of it, somebody's name perhaps. If you keep on and on trying to remember it, you'll stay stuck. But if you stop trying to force yourself to remember, and get on with something else, the missing information will suddenly pop into your head when you least expect it.
There's a telling example of this in episode 1 of the first series of Life on Mars. The detectives are trying to get an elderly lady to remember why she'd come into the station to make a complaint. The more Sam Tyler (with his modern, pressurized policing methods) tries to coerce the woman into remembering, the more flustered and useless she becomes. Then eventually Gene Hunt chips in with 'Pink wafers! I love pink wafers, don't you?'
Immediately the old lady relaxes, and after a genial chat and a few extra biscuits, she is able to produce the information the cops are after, vital information which leads them to the murderer. It's a priceless scene, very funny, but also psychologically true.
So if you're struggling with your writing and the Muse appears to have left you, don't beat yourself up about it. Go and practise your belly dancing, play an instrument, talk about pink wafers. Give yourself the space to play and before you know it, you'll soon be back in the creative flow.
I know the Prince of Wales is meant to encourage his plants to grow by talking to them, but as far as I know, he doesn't actually say, 'Come on, you little blighters, grow, or else!'
Plants have their own natural growing pattern. You can provide them with optimum conditions, love, care and conversation, perhaps even a little Reiki, but sitting agonizing over them, harrassing them, bullying them, is not going to make them grow the slightest bit faster.
Creativity's a bit like that. Last night, in my class, we were discussing how the writers and co-creators of the Life on Mars TV series came up with the idea for the show and went about writing it. There is a very interesting section in The Official Companion in which the four writers, Matthew Graham, Ashley Pharoah, Tony Jordan, and Chris Chibnall discuss the process of bringing the series to fruition.
One of the things that amazed the students was the fact that the three co-creators went off for a weekend in Blackpool to come up with ideas for television series. OK, so they did hire a small conference room and spend time in it bandying about ideas. But they also got out and about on the Pleasure Beach and spent lots of time playing.
To my adult learners, who in their day jobs are confined to an office from nine to five (or longer) five days a week, it was unthinkable that people who have a limited time together to come up with ideas for a deadline would waste time on playing.
So many beginning writers are used to squeezing their creativity into the odd hour or two that they manage to create for themselves among the obligations of job, family, household chores, tax returns, you name it. You mean some people actually go off and have fun!
I remember that in the American TV series, Thirtysomething, the two ad men, Michael and Elliot, worked in an agency which had basketball nets so they could relax their minds by playing, and thus give themselves space to come up with creative ideas.
One of my students works for an advertising agency, and confirmed that even on our side of the Pond, you do find that sort of thing in creative working environments. One of the companies he worked for even had Playstations in their offices.
To someone who works in local government or education or business, having time to 'waste' like that is just unthinkable. There are targets to be met, schedules to adhere to, timesheets to fill in - in some firms, every minute has to be logged and accounted for.
Of course, even creative people have to meet deadlines and fit in with other people's agendas. But giving your employees, giving yourself, time and space to play, to freewheel, is not time wasted. It's during that 'down time', when you're relaxed, that the 'aha' moments come.
So what are we writers to do? Install a basketball net in our front room so we can have a quick slam dunk? I don't think it would work for me. Ball games were never my strength and I can't say I ever found them relaxing, even when I was young.
But yesterday, while I was waiting for the kettle to boil, I did put on a CD and practise some of the belly dancing moves I'd been learning in my Arabic dance class. It must have made my brain more flexible as well as my waist, for once I went back upstairs to the computer to carry on with my web design work, I managed to solve with ease a Dreamweaver problem that I'd been struggling with all week.
Other times, if I can't think what to write, I'll sit and play the piano for a while. My friend who writes science books has a glass of wine and strums on his guitar. Another has candle-lit baths when she just can't find any inspiration for her romantic novels. And many writers go for a gentle walk when they find themselves at an impasse.
I don't think it really matters what you do. It can be anything you find relaxing, just as long as it gives you some breathing space and takes away from you the pressure to create, just for a few minutes.
It's like trying to remember something that you know when you just can't think of it, somebody's name perhaps. If you keep on and on trying to remember it, you'll stay stuck. But if you stop trying to force yourself to remember, and get on with something else, the missing information will suddenly pop into your head when you least expect it.
There's a telling example of this in episode 1 of the first series of Life on Mars. The detectives are trying to get an elderly lady to remember why she'd come into the station to make a complaint. The more Sam Tyler (with his modern, pressurized policing methods) tries to coerce the woman into remembering, the more flustered and useless she becomes. Then eventually Gene Hunt chips in with 'Pink wafers! I love pink wafers, don't you?'
Immediately the old lady relaxes, and after a genial chat and a few extra biscuits, she is able to produce the information the cops are after, vital information which leads them to the murderer. It's a priceless scene, very funny, but also psychologically true.
So if you're struggling with your writing and the Muse appears to have left you, don't beat yourself up about it. Go and practise your belly dancing, play an instrument, talk about pink wafers. Give yourself the space to play and before you know it, you'll soon be back in the creative flow.
Thursday, 24 April 2008
The Box of Delights or 'All the World's a Prompt'
'What on earth shall I write about today?' is a question that's on the lips of every writer at one time or another. For lots of us, it isn't the actual writing that's the problem. Once we know what we're going to write about, we're off. It's finding something to write about in the first place.
That's why I created my secret weapon that I use for my class and my workshops - the Box of Delights.
My Box of Delights is a brown suede covered box, 18cm deep, with an oval lid, roughly 26cm by 19cm. It's the sort of box that would be used for a very large and very expensive box of chocolates.
To make mine extra special, I tie it up with a really swish shocking pink ribbon and finish it off with a big bow, so that it looks like a very classy gift - which is what it is really. For every time I take it out and use it with a group, I'm giving those writers the gift of imagination.
As with any present, anticipation is half the fun, so I wait as long as possible before I unwrap the box and reveal its contents.
I take out the box, place it on the table and tell the group I've brought them something special. Of course, everyone is intrigued and wants to know what's in it, but they don't get to find out straight away. First, I pass round the unopened box and let people feel how heavy it is, shake it, stroke the suede.
Then when everybody has had a chance to touch it, I ask for a volunteer to unwrap the ribbon, and another to take off the lid. By this time, everyone is really keen to know what's inside.
Next someone takes out the items one by one, tells the group what they are, and passes them round for everyone to see and handle. The handling bit is important. I find that people often react differently to objects if they can actually take them in their hands and hold them.
So what sort of thing does the Box of Delight contain? The great thing is that it can be different every time. Here's what's in it today:
* a peacock feather
* a relaxation tape
* key ring with an enamel camel
* a cross stitch bookmark decorated with flowers
* a red felt heart (Christmas tree decoration)
* a postcard with a picture of a young woman and the caption 'Ideas Above Our Station'
* a flyer for a mobile DIY service
* a wooden box with a wriggling toy insect inside
* an orange retractable tape measure (inch tape)
* a string of gold beads
* a little BBC book called 'Finish This...End of Story'
* a miniature framed picture
* a stopwatch
* a wooden turtle ornament
* a tiny medal on a ribbon
* a brochure for the Scotland Street School museum in Glasgow
* the Collins Gem book of Musical Instruments
* a red glass slipper Christmas tree decoration
* a sachet of Jasmine flavoured green tea
* a pottery brighly-painted mask (made by my son at primary school)
* a tub of tuning slide grease for trombones
* a padlock
* a tape measure
* a card advertising Salsa Fusion classes
* a golf ball
* a tiny toy army tank
* a ring pouch containing a guardian angel lapel pin
* a train timetable (Huddersfield-Wakefield-London)
* a miniature toy gun
* a photograph of a couple dancing the tango in a cobbled street
* a fridge magnet of an Irish gypsy caravan
* a fighter plane key ring
* a tiny treasure chest with 'Keep Out' written on the top
Once the contents have been revealed, each person chooses one or more items to write about there and then for an agreed time, perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes. Then everybody reads out loud what they've written.
So where did I find all this stuff? Mostly, I just used items I had lying around the house. My 13-year old son has outgrown his toys, so I raided his drawer for some of the key rings and little novelties. Others were things that came through the door, like the DIY flyer, or odds and ends I had on my fridge door or in my handbag. It didn't cost me a penny.
The great thing about using the Box of Delights is that everybody responds to it differently. People don't always choose the things you think they will go for, like the pretty peacock feather or the glass slipper. They sometimes go for the most unlikely items.
The first time I used the Box, I was amazed that my students' choices included the train timetable, the trombone slide grease, and the green tea bag! But they managed to write some very entertaining stories as a result.
The Box of Delights proved really popular with my class. The ritual of opening the beautiful ribbon-tied box and unwrapping the contents turned a simple writing exercise into a special occasion. Some class members discussed the experience in their writing diaries or when they were reviewing their progress as writers, and said how much they'd enjoyed it.
It's something that you can easily make for yourself, using a brightly coloured hat box or even an old shoe box decorated with coloured card and stickers - making it can be part of the fun.
Or if you don't want to collect objects, you could compile a list instead. One of my students said she would prefer to make a list for her own use, as she felt she would have quite a limited range of things to choose from in her own home.
You and a fellow writer could even make up a box or a list and swap with each other, which would provide you with the element of surprise and open up your imaginative horizons.
Let me know if you decide to make your own Box of Delights and how you get on with it. Or tell me about any interesting objects you or your students have written about.
Meanwhile, whether you're writing or not, I hope your day brings you some lovely surprises.
That's why I created my secret weapon that I use for my class and my workshops - the Box of Delights.
My Box of Delights is a brown suede covered box, 18cm deep, with an oval lid, roughly 26cm by 19cm. It's the sort of box that would be used for a very large and very expensive box of chocolates.
To make mine extra special, I tie it up with a really swish shocking pink ribbon and finish it off with a big bow, so that it looks like a very classy gift - which is what it is really. For every time I take it out and use it with a group, I'm giving those writers the gift of imagination.
As with any present, anticipation is half the fun, so I wait as long as possible before I unwrap the box and reveal its contents.
I take out the box, place it on the table and tell the group I've brought them something special. Of course, everyone is intrigued and wants to know what's in it, but they don't get to find out straight away. First, I pass round the unopened box and let people feel how heavy it is, shake it, stroke the suede.
Then when everybody has had a chance to touch it, I ask for a volunteer to unwrap the ribbon, and another to take off the lid. By this time, everyone is really keen to know what's inside.
Next someone takes out the items one by one, tells the group what they are, and passes them round for everyone to see and handle. The handling bit is important. I find that people often react differently to objects if they can actually take them in their hands and hold them.
So what sort of thing does the Box of Delight contain? The great thing is that it can be different every time. Here's what's in it today:
* a peacock feather
* a relaxation tape
* key ring with an enamel camel
* a cross stitch bookmark decorated with flowers
* a red felt heart (Christmas tree decoration)
* a postcard with a picture of a young woman and the caption 'Ideas Above Our Station'
* a flyer for a mobile DIY service
* a wooden box with a wriggling toy insect inside
* an orange retractable tape measure (inch tape)
* a string of gold beads
* a little BBC book called 'Finish This...End of Story'
* a miniature framed picture
* a stopwatch
* a wooden turtle ornament
* a tiny medal on a ribbon
* a brochure for the Scotland Street School museum in Glasgow
* the Collins Gem book of Musical Instruments
* a red glass slipper Christmas tree decoration
* a sachet of Jasmine flavoured green tea
* a pottery brighly-painted mask (made by my son at primary school)
* a tub of tuning slide grease for trombones
* a padlock
* a tape measure
* a card advertising Salsa Fusion classes
* a golf ball
* a tiny toy army tank
* a ring pouch containing a guardian angel lapel pin
* a train timetable (Huddersfield-Wakefield-London)
* a miniature toy gun
* a photograph of a couple dancing the tango in a cobbled street
* a fridge magnet of an Irish gypsy caravan
* a fighter plane key ring
* a tiny treasure chest with 'Keep Out' written on the top
Once the contents have been revealed, each person chooses one or more items to write about there and then for an agreed time, perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes. Then everybody reads out loud what they've written.
So where did I find all this stuff? Mostly, I just used items I had lying around the house. My 13-year old son has outgrown his toys, so I raided his drawer for some of the key rings and little novelties. Others were things that came through the door, like the DIY flyer, or odds and ends I had on my fridge door or in my handbag. It didn't cost me a penny.
The great thing about using the Box of Delights is that everybody responds to it differently. People don't always choose the things you think they will go for, like the pretty peacock feather or the glass slipper. They sometimes go for the most unlikely items.
The first time I used the Box, I was amazed that my students' choices included the train timetable, the trombone slide grease, and the green tea bag! But they managed to write some very entertaining stories as a result.
The Box of Delights proved really popular with my class. The ritual of opening the beautiful ribbon-tied box and unwrapping the contents turned a simple writing exercise into a special occasion. Some class members discussed the experience in their writing diaries or when they were reviewing their progress as writers, and said how much they'd enjoyed it.
It's something that you can easily make for yourself, using a brightly coloured hat box or even an old shoe box decorated with coloured card and stickers - making it can be part of the fun.
Or if you don't want to collect objects, you could compile a list instead. One of my students said she would prefer to make a list for her own use, as she felt she would have quite a limited range of things to choose from in her own home.
You and a fellow writer could even make up a box or a list and swap with each other, which would provide you with the element of surprise and open up your imaginative horizons.
Let me know if you decide to make your own Box of Delights and how you get on with it. Or tell me about any interesting objects you or your students have written about.
Meanwhile, whether you're writing or not, I hope your day brings you some lovely surprises.
Tuesday, 22 April 2008
It's OK to write rubbish
One of the very first things I did with my class was to write on the board: 'It's OK to write rubbish in this class', and get them to chant it like primary school kids. There were several bemused faces and one student actually asked me if I'd been drinking, but it did the trick.
They all remembered it, and have quoted it back to me at regular intervals when they've been re-assessing their progress as writers: 'I'm getting better at learning to write rubbish, but I can't manage to do it all the time!'
It may sound odd, but I know what they mean and they're starting to understand it too.
So what is writing rubbish, and why is it so important to be able to do it?
I'm not advocating bad writing. That goes without saying! No writer in their right mind would want their finished product to be total rubbish. It's what happens along the way that I'm talking about. Especially that first, terrifying moment when you're faced with a blank page.
You want to fill your page with something spectacularly good - something that people will find compelling, fascinating, moving. Something that reflects who you are. Something that will last for posterity.
And that's the trouble.
If you sit down at the computer or with a sheet of paper and tell yourself that you've got to achieve all that, you'll be lucky if you can scrape together a sentence. And even if you do, you'll spend so much of your time pressing the delete key, applying Tippex, drawing angry lines through your handwriting, you'll be lucky to make it to sentence number two.
No one can write under that sort of pressure. To write well, you've got to be relaxed. Above all you've got to be free - free to let your imagination run riot, free to experiment, free to take risks.
You've got to be free to be you, and not be afraid to let other people see you for who you are. And that's just as scary as standing stark naked in an Oxford Street shop window.
It's a risky business. It takes guts. But it's far more exciting than bungee-jumping in the Grand Canyon.
We all of us have our own Nasty Little Critic who sits on our shoulder and shouts into our ear, 'Call yourself a writer! Surely you're not going to let anybody read that trash! Whatever will people think of you!'
Nasty Little Critic is has a very loud, irritating voice. In fact, his voice is so loud and irritating that you have to stop what you're doing, listen to him, and do what he tells you, even if you're in full flow.
The trouble is, he's always got an opinion and he's always sure he's right. He's very persuasive. He can make you doubt yourself. He can make you feel really small. He can make you feel as if this writing business is just too big for you, so you might just as well not bother.
He can bring your writing to a full stop before it's even got started.
So who is this Nasty Little Critic then? He's your left brain. The part of your brain that analyses, tears things apart, assesses. There are times when he can be a useful little devil. In fact, he's just what you need when it comes to editing your work.
But when you're writing your first draft, trying to get everything out of your head and your heart and onto paper, he's the last person you want hanging over you.
Best case scenario: it takes you hours to write half a page and in the process you totally lose your sense of flow.
Worst case scenario: total paralysis... a blank page... the end of a promising writing career.
But, fortunately, you have someone else on your other shoulder. She's spontaneous, imaginative, daring. Nothing's too hard for her, nothing too ambitious. Once she gets going, there's no stopping her. She's full of fun and the joy of creation.
She's called Inspiration. She's your Muse, and she comes from your right brain.
As long as you have her, there's nothing you can't do. You will amaze yourself. You'll find yourself saying, 'I don't know where that came from.' You'll amaze your readers.
Inspiration and the Nasty Little Critic make a really good team. In an ideal world, Inspiration gets everything moving and helps you pour it all out onto the page. She gets you started. She gives you something you can work with.
Then when you've finished your first draft, you can give the Nasty Little Critic a call and he'll have some very good suggestions to make your writing better. He'll get rid of all those nasty little glitches like typos and ambiguous sentences and faulty punctuation. He'll tell you that it wasn't really a good idea to use the word 'nice' three times in a row. He'll even know when to write its and when to write it's.
It's a good job somebody does.
Your Nasty Little Critic isn't so bad. At the right time, he can be a useful little chap, indispensible even. You'll be very grateful for him. He'll make your writer superb.
The trouble is that Nasty Little Critic and Inspiration can't stand each other. They can't bear to be in the same room. They fratch like a couple of pit bull terriers.
If you're trying to write a new piece and Nasty Little Critic is hanging around, putting in his two pennyworth every two minutes, you can bet your last dollar that Inspiration will pack up her laptop and walk right out the door.
The trick is to keep them apart. Let Inspiration have her say first. Give her plenty of time and space. Cosset her with cups of tea, chocolate biscuits, soothing music, even the odd glass of wine.
Then when she's told you she's finished, that's the time you can bring in the other guy. Let him have a good look at what you've got down. Several good looks. Call him back a couple of months later when Inspiration is but a distant memory. He'll roll up his sleeves and give you an honest, objective, workmanlike opinion.
That's what my students are learning to do. Write first, edit later. And later. And later. Several drafts on, there it is - a beautiful piece of work of work, smooth as polished mahogany! Writing they can be proud of.
At that point, Inspiration and Nasty Little Critic are suddenly the best of friends. They can look each other in the eye, shake hands, and say with a smile, 'We did that! Both of us!'
Then they'll go off on their separate ways for a while.
That's why I tell my class it's OK to write rubbish. Let it all pour out, no matter how bad it is. To begin with...
And that's why I'm glad that they do.
They all remembered it, and have quoted it back to me at regular intervals when they've been re-assessing their progress as writers: 'I'm getting better at learning to write rubbish, but I can't manage to do it all the time!'
It may sound odd, but I know what they mean and they're starting to understand it too.
So what is writing rubbish, and why is it so important to be able to do it?
I'm not advocating bad writing. That goes without saying! No writer in their right mind would want their finished product to be total rubbish. It's what happens along the way that I'm talking about. Especially that first, terrifying moment when you're faced with a blank page.
You want to fill your page with something spectacularly good - something that people will find compelling, fascinating, moving. Something that reflects who you are. Something that will last for posterity.
And that's the trouble.
If you sit down at the computer or with a sheet of paper and tell yourself that you've got to achieve all that, you'll be lucky if you can scrape together a sentence. And even if you do, you'll spend so much of your time pressing the delete key, applying Tippex, drawing angry lines through your handwriting, you'll be lucky to make it to sentence number two.
No one can write under that sort of pressure. To write well, you've got to be relaxed. Above all you've got to be free - free to let your imagination run riot, free to experiment, free to take risks.
You've got to be free to be you, and not be afraid to let other people see you for who you are. And that's just as scary as standing stark naked in an Oxford Street shop window.
It's a risky business. It takes guts. But it's far more exciting than bungee-jumping in the Grand Canyon.
We all of us have our own Nasty Little Critic who sits on our shoulder and shouts into our ear, 'Call yourself a writer! Surely you're not going to let anybody read that trash! Whatever will people think of you!'
Nasty Little Critic is has a very loud, irritating voice. In fact, his voice is so loud and irritating that you have to stop what you're doing, listen to him, and do what he tells you, even if you're in full flow.
The trouble is, he's always got an opinion and he's always sure he's right. He's very persuasive. He can make you doubt yourself. He can make you feel really small. He can make you feel as if this writing business is just too big for you, so you might just as well not bother.
He can bring your writing to a full stop before it's even got started.
So who is this Nasty Little Critic then? He's your left brain. The part of your brain that analyses, tears things apart, assesses. There are times when he can be a useful little devil. In fact, he's just what you need when it comes to editing your work.
But when you're writing your first draft, trying to get everything out of your head and your heart and onto paper, he's the last person you want hanging over you.
Best case scenario: it takes you hours to write half a page and in the process you totally lose your sense of flow.
Worst case scenario: total paralysis... a blank page... the end of a promising writing career.
But, fortunately, you have someone else on your other shoulder. She's spontaneous, imaginative, daring. Nothing's too hard for her, nothing too ambitious. Once she gets going, there's no stopping her. She's full of fun and the joy of creation.
She's called Inspiration. She's your Muse, and she comes from your right brain.
As long as you have her, there's nothing you can't do. You will amaze yourself. You'll find yourself saying, 'I don't know where that came from.' You'll amaze your readers.
Inspiration and the Nasty Little Critic make a really good team. In an ideal world, Inspiration gets everything moving and helps you pour it all out onto the page. She gets you started. She gives you something you can work with.
Then when you've finished your first draft, you can give the Nasty Little Critic a call and he'll have some very good suggestions to make your writing better. He'll get rid of all those nasty little glitches like typos and ambiguous sentences and faulty punctuation. He'll tell you that it wasn't really a good idea to use the word 'nice' three times in a row. He'll even know when to write its and when to write it's.
It's a good job somebody does.
Your Nasty Little Critic isn't so bad. At the right time, he can be a useful little chap, indispensible even. You'll be very grateful for him. He'll make your writer superb.
The trouble is that Nasty Little Critic and Inspiration can't stand each other. They can't bear to be in the same room. They fratch like a couple of pit bull terriers.
If you're trying to write a new piece and Nasty Little Critic is hanging around, putting in his two pennyworth every two minutes, you can bet your last dollar that Inspiration will pack up her laptop and walk right out the door.
The trick is to keep them apart. Let Inspiration have her say first. Give her plenty of time and space. Cosset her with cups of tea, chocolate biscuits, soothing music, even the odd glass of wine.
Then when she's told you she's finished, that's the time you can bring in the other guy. Let him have a good look at what you've got down. Several good looks. Call him back a couple of months later when Inspiration is but a distant memory. He'll roll up his sleeves and give you an honest, objective, workmanlike opinion.
That's what my students are learning to do. Write first, edit later. And later. And later. Several drafts on, there it is - a beautiful piece of work of work, smooth as polished mahogany! Writing they can be proud of.
At that point, Inspiration and Nasty Little Critic are suddenly the best of friends. They can look each other in the eye, shake hands, and say with a smile, 'We did that! Both of us!'
Then they'll go off on their separate ways for a while.
That's why I tell my class it's OK to write rubbish. Let it all pour out, no matter how bad it is. To begin with...
And that's why I'm glad that they do.
Starting a blog yesterday may have been a surprise to me, but it was a pleasant one. I've enjoyed my Accidental Blog and have been looking forward to writing another post on it.
Between yesterday and now, I've been wondering if there is a formula for a successful blog. What would I tell my students if they asked me how to write one?
I suppose the form of writing that comes closest to it is an opinion piece in a newspaper, and the essence of that is for the writer to reveal their personality and views. In the tabloids, of course, it helps to be controversial, vitriolic even, and to make a name for yourself as a bitch. I don't think I'll be taking that line with this blog.
I don't claim to be whiter than white, but slagging people off and humiliating them in public isn't what turns me on. I'd rather my listeners logged off feeling a little bit better about life, a little bit more knowledgeable, a little more hopeful.
So why bother reading this blog? Well, I hope that by getting to know how I approach my life, my writing, and my teaching, you will get the chance to reflect on your own life - and maybe even to learn more about yourself by starting to write.
Everyone can do it. Everyone has something to say, even though you might not be able to think of anything off the top of your head. In fact, writing, like any creative activity, can be immensely therapeutic.
Over the past twenty years, I've sat in writers' groups where I've been enthralled by ordinary people's true stories of the most extreme experiences in their lives - how they've coped when members of their families have suffered serious illness, accidents, suicide attempts, even.
Several people I know have turned to writing to make sense of their lives when they were turned upside down by a traumatic divorce or relationship breakdown.
But the stories I've heard haven't been all gloom and doom. I still love to recall the true life tale of an elderly friend, now sadly dead, about how as a boy he used to play with children in a large Irish family. My friend was an only child, so compared with lots of children in the thirties, he was relatively well off, and always always got his meat and two veg.
The Irish family were poor in monetary terms, but happy and well cared for, and the kids were never short of someone to play with.
One evening, my friend had been playing out with them. It got to tea time and he joined them at the dinner table - they didn't have much, just a big pan of potatoes, but he thought this huge communal meal was better than a feast.
Then it got to bath-time and bed-time. That night, the father of the house was in charge of getting his brood ready. One by one, he dealt with his offspring, conveyor-belt fashion - ushering them into the bath, then packing them off to bed. To my friend's delight, he became part of the conveyor belt, and so he found himself being sent to bed with all his chums. The dad obviously didn't clock that there was one extra that night. Well, I did say it was rather a large brood!
There was my friend, happy as Larry, lying top to tail with all his chums, several to a bed, as poor children did in those days. He thought he'd gone to heaven! He'd have gladly stayed there all night if his mum hadn't come looking for him.
That was an example of what my students would call 'autobiographical writing'. But more than that, it's life writing. It's not just the 'who did what and when' that matters. It's the little details that make up our lives, that make us who we are - 'life writing' in the broadest sense.
And that's what makes learning to write different from learning any other subject. When you learn to write, you're not just finding out how to string words together in sentences. You're discovering yourself.
As I tell my students: 'You're the best person to write your story. It's uniquely yours.'
If you have a memory to share, why not write it here as a comment? It's quick and easy to do.
Between yesterday and now, I've been wondering if there is a formula for a successful blog. What would I tell my students if they asked me how to write one?
I suppose the form of writing that comes closest to it is an opinion piece in a newspaper, and the essence of that is for the writer to reveal their personality and views. In the tabloids, of course, it helps to be controversial, vitriolic even, and to make a name for yourself as a bitch. I don't think I'll be taking that line with this blog.
I don't claim to be whiter than white, but slagging people off and humiliating them in public isn't what turns me on. I'd rather my listeners logged off feeling a little bit better about life, a little bit more knowledgeable, a little more hopeful.
So why bother reading this blog? Well, I hope that by getting to know how I approach my life, my writing, and my teaching, you will get the chance to reflect on your own life - and maybe even to learn more about yourself by starting to write.
Everyone can do it. Everyone has something to say, even though you might not be able to think of anything off the top of your head. In fact, writing, like any creative activity, can be immensely therapeutic.
Over the past twenty years, I've sat in writers' groups where I've been enthralled by ordinary people's true stories of the most extreme experiences in their lives - how they've coped when members of their families have suffered serious illness, accidents, suicide attempts, even.
Several people I know have turned to writing to make sense of their lives when they were turned upside down by a traumatic divorce or relationship breakdown.
But the stories I've heard haven't been all gloom and doom. I still love to recall the true life tale of an elderly friend, now sadly dead, about how as a boy he used to play with children in a large Irish family. My friend was an only child, so compared with lots of children in the thirties, he was relatively well off, and always always got his meat and two veg.
The Irish family were poor in monetary terms, but happy and well cared for, and the kids were never short of someone to play with.
One evening, my friend had been playing out with them. It got to tea time and he joined them at the dinner table - they didn't have much, just a big pan of potatoes, but he thought this huge communal meal was better than a feast.
Then it got to bath-time and bed-time. That night, the father of the house was in charge of getting his brood ready. One by one, he dealt with his offspring, conveyor-belt fashion - ushering them into the bath, then packing them off to bed. To my friend's delight, he became part of the conveyor belt, and so he found himself being sent to bed with all his chums. The dad obviously didn't clock that there was one extra that night. Well, I did say it was rather a large brood!
There was my friend, happy as Larry, lying top to tail with all his chums, several to a bed, as poor children did in those days. He thought he'd gone to heaven! He'd have gladly stayed there all night if his mum hadn't come looking for him.
That was an example of what my students would call 'autobiographical writing'. But more than that, it's life writing. It's not just the 'who did what and when' that matters. It's the little details that make up our lives, that make us who we are - 'life writing' in the broadest sense.
And that's what makes learning to write different from learning any other subject. When you learn to write, you're not just finding out how to string words together in sentences. You're discovering yourself.
As I tell my students: 'You're the best person to write your story. It's uniquely yours.'
If you have a memory to share, why not write it here as a comment? It's quick and easy to do.
Monday, 21 April 2008
You've got to start somewhere...
I wasn't intending to start writing a blog today - in fact, I was intending to begin reading one! But due to the vagaries of the blogspot website, here I am! I had to create a google account first, and got a bit carried away.... But, hey! I'm a writer, so it won't do me any harm to write...
What I was really trying to do was to access my friend's new blogspot. Her name is Lindsay Townsend and she writes romantic novels: romantic thrillers and historical romances. I created a website for her and am in the process of updating it by adding two new pages and extra links to publicise a new novel that she has had accepted for publication. I got an e-mail from her today telling me that she now has a blog and asking me to put a link to it from the website. I thought I'd better check out her blog reference first, but couldn't access it, so I ended up going onto a blogging website and creating a google account so I could find the blog.
And I ended up creating this too!
Well, I was intending to start writing a blog some time, so why not?
So who am I apart from the person who created Lindsay's website?
Well, I'm a professional writer and creative writing lecturer, Scottish by birth and upbringing, but for the past thirty-odd years I have lived in England.
I started off my career as a BBC television researcher working on a television series for The Open University. That led me into more projects, writing and producing educational materials for The Open College and writing dramatisations for more Open University programmes. I began writing fiction and non-fiction too, and had two biographies published by Harper Collins. One of them was about Cliff Richard and I sold a lot of copies to members of his fan club.
Now, after a while out of writing to do the whole "mum" thing and bring up my thirteen-year old son, I'm back writing again, but I've found that what I really love to do is teaching adults. Since September, I have been teaching an adult education class in creative writing.
I love my class. I love the mixture of personalities and ages and abilities. I love all the different sorts of writing they like to do. I love seeing their enthusiasm when they try something new and it works, or when they read aloud something they have written and their fellow students tell them that it's really good.
I love the coffee break as we have such interesting discussions about writers and books and often people end up going home with the name of a new author they want to go and read.
I love seeing my students grow and develop both as writers and as readers. Let's not forget that if you want to become a really good writer, you have to read voraciously - or if you want to write for TV, watch lots of TV drama, but critically.
That's another thing I really enjoy about teaching my class - it's not just about telling them technical stuff, it's about getting them to think like writers, to look at life like writers.
So do writers look at life differently? If you want to find out, come back again and you'll be able to make up your own mind.
Meanwhile, why not check out the website that I built for Lindsay? You'll be able to read about her novel, A Knight's Vow, which is set in medieval England. When I finish the new pages, you'll also be able to read about her latest book, Flavia's Secret, which is set in Roman times.
Her website is http://www.lindsaytownsend.co.uk/. If you like her books, send her an e-mail, and if you like the website, let me know.
But do look in on my blogs again, and we can chat a bit more about writing and reading and teaching.
What I was really trying to do was to access my friend's new blogspot. Her name is Lindsay Townsend and she writes romantic novels: romantic thrillers and historical romances. I created a website for her and am in the process of updating it by adding two new pages and extra links to publicise a new novel that she has had accepted for publication. I got an e-mail from her today telling me that she now has a blog and asking me to put a link to it from the website. I thought I'd better check out her blog reference first, but couldn't access it, so I ended up going onto a blogging website and creating a google account so I could find the blog.
And I ended up creating this too!
Well, I was intending to start writing a blog some time, so why not?
So who am I apart from the person who created Lindsay's website?
Well, I'm a professional writer and creative writing lecturer, Scottish by birth and upbringing, but for the past thirty-odd years I have lived in England.
I started off my career as a BBC television researcher working on a television series for The Open University. That led me into more projects, writing and producing educational materials for The Open College and writing dramatisations for more Open University programmes. I began writing fiction and non-fiction too, and had two biographies published by Harper Collins. One of them was about Cliff Richard and I sold a lot of copies to members of his fan club.
Now, after a while out of writing to do the whole "mum" thing and bring up my thirteen-year old son, I'm back writing again, but I've found that what I really love to do is teaching adults. Since September, I have been teaching an adult education class in creative writing.
I love my class. I love the mixture of personalities and ages and abilities. I love all the different sorts of writing they like to do. I love seeing their enthusiasm when they try something new and it works, or when they read aloud something they have written and their fellow students tell them that it's really good.
I love the coffee break as we have such interesting discussions about writers and books and often people end up going home with the name of a new author they want to go and read.
I love seeing my students grow and develop both as writers and as readers. Let's not forget that if you want to become a really good writer, you have to read voraciously - or if you want to write for TV, watch lots of TV drama, but critically.
That's another thing I really enjoy about teaching my class - it's not just about telling them technical stuff, it's about getting them to think like writers, to look at life like writers.
So do writers look at life differently? If you want to find out, come back again and you'll be able to make up your own mind.
Meanwhile, why not check out the website that I built for Lindsay? You'll be able to read about her novel, A Knight's Vow, which is set in medieval England. When I finish the new pages, you'll also be able to read about her latest book, Flavia's Secret, which is set in Roman times.
Her website is http://www.lindsaytownsend.co.uk/. If you like her books, send her an e-mail, and if you like the website, let me know.
But do look in on my blogs again, and we can chat a bit more about writing and reading and teaching.
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