tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86369422150994530822024-03-12T16:33:08.671-07:00Sleepwell and Fly...was the name of my novel when it won The Times/Chicken House Children's Fiction Competition in 2012. It was published as The Poison Boy in April 2014. These posts represent everything that obsessed me between 2010 and 2015, including the publication process.
Nowadays I'm at martingriffinbooks.com. See you there!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-70721765283103077092017-02-08T01:52:00.002-08:002017-02-08T01:52:58.788-08:00Potted History<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I started this blog in 2010 as I was finishing a book called Sleepwell and Fly, writing as <a href="http://www.fletchermossgardens.org.uk/" target="_blank">Fletcher Moss</a>, a name I stole from a park a few miles from where I live. (I'm still <a href="https://twitter.com/fletchermoss?lang=en" target="_blank">@fletchermoss</a> on Twitter, and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/fletcher__moss/?hl=en" target="_blank">@fletcher__moss</a> on Insta if you want to say hello.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Eventually, in 2012, that book won the <a href="https://www.chickenhousebooks.com/submissions/" target="_blank">Times Chicken House Children's Fiction Competition</a>. It was published as <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/d/cka/Poison-Boy-Fletcher-Moss/1908435445" target="_blank">The Poison Boy</a> in April of 2014.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The five years' of posts here cover 2010 to 2015, including my struggles with the original novel, stuff I learnt along the way, being longlisted for the competition, eventually winning it, and the process of re-writing, editing, and eventually publishing the book.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It did OK and I got another deal. My second novel is called <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Lifers-M-Griffin/dp/1910002259" target="_blank">Lifers</a>, and I've shed my pseudonym. I blog now at <a href="http://martingriffinbooks.com/">martingriffinbooks.com</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I won't be updating this site beyond this post, and for a few years I took it down. But then I thought what the hell. Someone might one day find it useful.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Cheers,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Martin</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-21888510870858899682015-06-23T03:42:00.001-07:002015-06-23T03:42:46.137-07:00Interlude: We've Got an Elephant!
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">Some writers seem to understand shape at some preconscious
level. It’s in their damn DNA, it’s so deep. <a href="http://www.ianrankin.net/" target="_blank">Ian Rankin</a> talks quite openly
about being his detective in first drafts – he has no idea where the story is
going; he discovers things at the same time as Rebus. But the result is shapely
and satisfying nonetheless.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">Me? Most days it feels like I don’t know what the hell I’m
doing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">At its worst, it feels like if I can screw up the structure
of a story, I will. To use an analogy: I’ll pitch a
beautifully sculpted elephant, then deliver a camel and a heartfelt
apology. And my editors have to patiently unpick it all. (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Thought about taking those humps off? What about adding a trunk? Plus –
just asking Fletch – can we bulk this baby out a bit?</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">Eventually, it looks sorta elephantine. But it’s miles away
from the thing I first conceived.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">Imagine my relief, then, when I saw this:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you, <a href="http://maureenfmchugh.com/" target="_blank">Maureen McHugh</a>. Thank you <a href="http://austinkleon.com/" target="_blank">Austin Kleon.</a> And most
of all, a massive thank you to my editors. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">We’ve got an elephant at last. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-72567128597606740142015-05-03T08:02:00.000-07:002015-05-03T08:02:14.352-07:00Water and Ice<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">A post that first appeared on the very splendid <a href="https://authorallsorts.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Author Allsorts</a> website.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">There’s this thing about writing and liquid – people talk
about the writing process like we’ve each got some sort of creative plumbing
system, and it’s either running smoothly or mis-firing. When things are going
well, we say the words ‘flow’, as if all our valves and chambers are flooding
beautifully, and when the process slows or stops, we say the words have ‘dried
up’ or worse still, that we’re ‘blocked’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I guess one of the reasons I don’t ever worry about or
experience ‘writer’s block’ is because I don’t particularly subscribe to this
metaphor of flow or block in the first place. This isn’t an act of will on my
part; even on a subconscious level I don’t ever consider the creative process
in terms of water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Unless it’s frozen water, that is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I was struck recently by American sitcom writer and comedian
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amy_Poehler" target="_blank">Amy Poehler’s</a> much more revealing comparison that writing is like <a href="https://www.holstee.com/blogs/mindful-matter/17315604-surviving-creative-block-with-advice-from-ernest-hemingway-and-amy-poehler" target="_blank">hacking icefrom the inside of a fridge with a screwdriver</a>. Now this is way more my line of
thinking. Poehler’s image emphasises hard work over ease; dogged persistence
‘chipping away’ over effortless ‘flow’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So my advice in short? Don’t believe in writer’s block, and
suddenly, it doesn’t exist. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Instead, writing becomes a process that requires effort and
optimism. Sit down at your desk with a song in your heart, friends. And as you
spend a few moments contemplating the task ahead of you, try the following:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;">Don’t write in sequence. Save a killer scene for
those days when hacking ice feels like it isn’t much fun. Avoid
death-by-chronology.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;">Jump the problem. Put a long </span><i style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large; text-indent: -18pt;">“…………….”</i><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;"> for that particularly tough icy
outcrop, and carry on as if you’d already dealt with it. (Tip: Don’t then
submit your mss having totally forgotten to sort it out. Been there, done
that.)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;">If you don’t fancy the piece you’re hacking at,
switch to a scene with lots of dialogue. Tune-in to everyday talk and write.
You chip away at lots that way.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;">Use ‘The Ten Minute Rule’. It a psychological
trick that goes like this: </span><i style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large; text-indent: -18pt;">“This section
is really hard and I can’t see how to hack through it. So I’ll write something
– any damn thing, without any critical assessment – for just ten minutes. Then
I’ll stop.”</i><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;"> I’ve done this a whole load of times – and found myself
returning to reality half an hour later, the ten-minute curfew totally
forgotten, with a bunch of words. Which is a bunch better than nothing. (Tip: This
one works even better with headphones on, and playlist cued up.)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;">Hack out the final scene of your novel, right
now this moment. If you’ve never considered your final scene, this can be fun.
If the actual problem </span><i style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large; text-indent: -18pt;">is</i><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;"> your final
scene, sit yourself down and watch the last five minutes of five great movies,
then read the last five pages of five great novels, then try the ten-minute
rule.</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Or finally…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;">Write a scene you know will not be in the novel,
but will appear in a lavishly-illustrated fully expanded ‘director’s cut’
version of the book that one day will be greeted with rapturous critical
acclaim, sell millions and keep you in beer and sandwiches for the rest of your
days.</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span></li>
</ul>
<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-53560666300202818592015-03-23T05:36:00.003-07:002015-03-23T12:08:59.208-07:00Magical Thinking: The Tyre, Mud, Two Kids, Rules of Summer<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">When I meet distant acquaintances who know me as ‘that guy
who wrote a kids' book’, they politely enquire after book two. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Writing another?”</i> they say. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I say yes. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Is it for kids again?”</i> they say. (There’s
an implication here, and it’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Are you
going to do a proper book next? One for grown-ups?”</i>)</span></span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">The answer: Yes, it’s
for kids. I love writing for young people. I’m having a blast. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">This post is an attempt to weigh and measure what it is about
writing children’s fiction that’s so exciting. I hope you’ll check out the four
texts mentioned; you probably know them – each in some way
captures the same magic about what it is to be a child or young adult, and what,
by extension, it is about writing stories for and about children that is so
magical.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Next time anyone asks, I’ll tell them this:</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><strong>The Tyre</strong> is a poem by <a href="http://www.simonarmitage.com/" target="_blank">Simon Armitage</a>, based on a childhood
memory of finding a huge abandoned tractor tyre up on the moors above Meltham
and, along with a gang of mates, lifting it upright and rolling it across moorland
and onto the road. Once on tarmac the tyre accelerates, breaks free of its
captors, and rolls over the lip of the hill down towards a nearby village.
Terrified, the kids chase it, imagining a trail of devastation. Instead?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em><strong>…down
in the village the tyre was gone,<br />
and not just gone but unseen and unheard of,<br />
not curled like a cat in the graveyard, not<br />
cornered in the playground like a reptile,<br />
or found and kept like a giant fossil.<br />
Not there or anywhere. No trace. Thin air.<br />
<br />
Being more in tune with the feel of things<br />
than science and facts, we knew that the tyre<br />
had travelled too fast for its size and mass,<br />
and broken through some barrier of speed,<br />
outrun the act of being driven, steered,<br />
and at that moment gone beyond itself<br />
towards some other sphere, and disappeared.<o:p></o:p></strong></em></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">That’s</span></i><span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> why,
incredulous-bloke-at-party. That’s why. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Researcher’s-friend Wikipedia tells me
that, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magical_thinking" target="_blank">“</a></i></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magical_thinking" target="_blank">Magical thinking is the attribution of causal relationships between actions and events which cannot be justified by reason and observation.”</a><span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">
Neat. Childhood not only gives permission for magical thinking, but positively
encourages it. There’s pretty much no other kind at all at that age. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Want
some more magical thinking, some – as Armitage puts it – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">being in touch with the feel of things</i>? Try these:</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3-VWXw0e1zpOOAVWFhyphenhyphen4RHlvmX2HIk91Xkp06vNHlkTVncFvun20yOT19gfhWC_Ywbx15WNxM13yU0F2ijZItdAd13WFWGnCD8tEzNi14KdRrbnxzmYGDYWyXAnSBZyQ-IDA5hEGCUUs/s1600/Mud_poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3-VWXw0e1zpOOAVWFhyphenhyphen4RHlvmX2HIk91Xkp06vNHlkTVncFvun20yOT19gfhWC_Ywbx15WNxM13yU0F2ijZItdAd13WFWGnCD8tEzNi14KdRrbnxzmYGDYWyXAnSBZyQ-IDA5hEGCUUs/s1600/Mud_poster.jpg" height="320" width="216" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><strong>Mud</strong>
is a coming-of-age drama written and directed by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2158772/" target="_blank">Jeff Nichols</a>. There’s a boat
high up in a tree, two boys called Ellis and Neckbone, and a superb central
performance from Matthew McConaughey.</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BJ0P4HgNqosv1Cbyaf9qOFdMkirUYWYqp2pYiuhyOyp_rqK8n9a0_HYXYQYwGXuz-S4YaQgh7iZhc5Bs9silCj5MUd3iYXm3jKAWo5eCXAiiKhLpbruwnEwqKz-EszYtOfdamyCjEjs/s1600/xoa-coverlores1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BJ0P4HgNqosv1Cbyaf9qOFdMkirUYWYqp2pYiuhyOyp_rqK8n9a0_HYXYQYwGXuz-S4YaQgh7iZhc5Bs9silCj5MUd3iYXm3jKAWo5eCXAiiKhLpbruwnEwqKz-EszYtOfdamyCjEjs/s1600/xoa-coverlores1.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><strong>Two
Kids</strong> is a song by <a href="http://anaismitchell.com/news/" target="_blank">Anais Mitchell</a>. Dad has “plenty of Campbells and beers in the
basement” in case at some point in the future, no-one can leave the house. The
kid’s just trying to figure out why. It’s borderline-heartbreaking and
beautifully conceived.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">And
<a href="http://www.shauntan.net/" target="_blank">Shaun Tan’s</a> Rules of Summer is a list of lessons learned, like this one:</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3EkyjJOe_xLBw4lC5R0Xyv7O2OnTtD9y2BJqtq6S8R9dRroAvLWD6r4GRmD3p1aR7kkUq2Wy0S_lDMsPKmjPQ_50DGM5S1brxvBLbhc0NQDLsGaCTsFnmnv2R9c7DncPQE_7Kfsa2w4M/s1600/intrulesofsummer2web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3EkyjJOe_xLBw4lC5R0Xyv7O2OnTtD9y2BJqtq6S8R9dRroAvLWD6r4GRmD3p1aR7kkUq2Wy0S_lDMsPKmjPQ_50DGM5S1brxvBLbhc0NQDLsGaCTsFnmnv2R9c7DncPQE_7Kfsa2w4M/s1600/intrulesofsummer2web.jpg" height="286" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><o:p>"Never forget the password" is the rule printed neatly in the centre of the left-hand page. </o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><o:p>Damn right, because through those doors is a realm of magic, mystery and unspeakable wonder.</o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><o:p>A lot like childhood, I guess.</o:p></span></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-24228325534045298592015-02-18T08:36:00.004-08:002015-02-18T08:38:15.004-08:00The Sound of Missed Deadlines<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">A few days ago, the wonderful <a href="http://doublecluck.com/index.php" target="_blank">Chicken House</a> announced the
shortlist of their <a href="http://doublecluck.com/news/page/1#post_126" target="_blank">Children’s Fiction Competition</a>. I wish everyone on that list
the very best of luck. I’m a huge fan of the competition, and with good reason;
<a href="http://doublecluck.com/author/Fletcher%20Moss" target="_blank">I</a> won it in 2013.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">But the shortlisting process this year reminded me of a
particular day back in 2011. It was a memory I’d pretty much let go, and it
came back in a rush of anguish and frustration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Here’s the tale. It was deadline weekend for the Chicken
House competition and I was still working on a book that at the time was called
Sleepwell and Fly. It was a bit of a ragged young tyke – an ugly street-urchin
of a story – but I was happy with it and keen to get it delivered. Sticking an
80,000 word manuscript in the post and sending it to Frome in Somerset is no
straightforward task. It costs a few quid, and you need a working post office.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So why had I chosen that particular weekend to take off for
a break in Derbyshire I don’t know. I had the book with me. I had a
super-strong envelope and a fist full of first class stamps. I went for a long
walk with my girl, had a pint in the afternoon, unwinding after a tough time at
work. The footy results started coming in; the sky darkened and the sun went
down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Then it hit me full in the face. <i>Bloody hell. There was nowhere I could post the frickin’ manuscript.</i>
It was too big for a post box. The post offices were closed. Tomorrow was
Sunday. Then it was deadline day.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I lost the plot. I swore and raged at my own stupidity. I
cursed and paced. Then I went all broody and silent and furious. I ruined the
rest of the weekend, barely able to live with myself. The following week or two
was just as gloomy. I was horrible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">About a month later I had the courage to return to the story.
I pulled it out of its envelope and started reading. Two things happened almost simultaneously. The first: I started wincing at the prose. <i>Christ</i>, I
thought. <i>This is clunky. Ouch. </i>I began tweaking it. Second: I had a couple of
ideas. Hang on, I remember thinking. If I just add this character; chop this
section… you get the picture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The year after, I submitted the manuscript, three weeks or
so before the deadline.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">These words have been typed here before but I guess they bear repeating: <i>I’ve
made these mistakes so you don’t have to.</i></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-14626572458389772282015-01-20T08:07:00.000-08:002015-01-20T08:07:31.488-08:00Dial-a-Song
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><a href="http://dialasong.com/" target="_blank">Dial-a-Song</a> was an answer-phone song-service set up by John
Flansburgh and John Linnell in New York in 1983. They had a scratchy lo-fi
college band called <a href="http://www.theymightbegiants.com/" target="_blank">They Might Be Giants</a> and at the time, it was faltering.
Flansburgh had his apartment burgled and a bunch of his kit lifted; Linnell
broke his wrist in a bike accident. They wouldn’t be touring anytime soon, but
needed to stay current and present. This was their solution.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Basically, if you called a Brooklyn number; <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">(718) 387-6962</span> to be exact, an
answering machine played back a song in the place of an outgoing message, via a
cassette tape. Flansburgh and Linnell recorded demos, jingles, experiments and
rough cuts of studio tracks onto cassettes and then queued them into the machine
so they’d rotate. Then they’d drop fliers, place magazine and newspaper
adverts, and wait for the calls to come in.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Only one person could call at a time (one of the
Dial-a-Song slogans was, “Always busy, often broken”) and this made the
experience curiously personal.</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtzMkJpe2sSX2jlxPFGiX3DneZUjzV6E6Dn0tKSwcEE40JEY3ANolg0XjDZvImfuSTQUsTPPEPk40o5sZeOzJRfcQxNPqpcoohdYZ2WwfOPmB7KLlvDWkg5-o1vRs4EkOBcIdb4XMpwg/s1600/Dial+a+song.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtzMkJpe2sSX2jlxPFGiX3DneZUjzV6E6Dn0tKSwcEE40JEY3ANolg0XjDZvImfuSTQUsTPPEPk40o5sZeOzJRfcQxNPqpcoohdYZ2WwfOPmB7KLlvDWkg5-o1vRs4EkOBcIdb4XMpwg/s1600/Dial+a+song.png" height="324" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">From where I’m sitting, there’s a lot to be gleaned from
the whole Dial-a-Song idea.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">First, as <a href="http://www.thisamericanlife.org/about/staff" target="_blank">Ira Glass</a> says, “Put yourself on a deadline.”
These guys excelled at keeping busy. I’m writing this now partly because They
Might Be Giants have recently announced the service is to re-open. The details
are <a href="http://www.theymightbegiants.com/dial-a-song-2015/" target="_blank">here</a>. Every Tuesday in 2015, there’ll be a new song. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Second; a joyous, rough-around-the-edges prototype that’s
shared with others and reaps the rewards of feedback beats a polished to near-perfection
masterpiece that stays in a drawer any day of the week. Get your stuff out
there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Third, there’s the discipline of restriction at work
here. The medium closes down creative possibilities. Flansburgh has talked
recently here about how the band width was so tiny, and the audio so poor, that
Dial-a-Song compositions could only have a voice – always weirdly high in the
mix – and a couple of instruments, max. Nothing else. Counter-intuitively,
shutting down your options helps.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">And fourth? Flansburgh used to sit in his apartment
listening to the calls come in. Some people would give whatever new song was on
there fifteen seconds, then hang up. <em>“That,”</em> says Flansburgh, <em>“was the cruelest
thing about Dial-a-Song. This is a very cruel business,” </em>he goes on. <em>“It takes
a lot to hold people’s interest.”</em> Learning that lesson day after day in the
most bruising way must have been hard. As a schoolkid I used to call the
service from my mate’s house – my Mum wouldn’t let me call a New York number –
and listen in. I remember once I had to hang up half way through a tune cause
my pal’s mum came home from work unexpectedly early. Odd to think Flansburgh
might have been on the other end of that call, fretting.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Forged as it was back then in trying circumstances and
against the odds, the story of the Dial-a-Song service is a fascinating one,
not least for its triumph-in-adversity narrative. </span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I for one will be tuning in
on coming Tuesdays.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-85623650725929830572014-11-28T07:14:00.002-08:002014-11-28T07:14:33.887-08:00The Thing in the Gap<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">A post that started life out at <a href="https://authorallsorts.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Author Allsorts.</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">You may already be familiar with <a href="http://www.thisamericanlife.org/about/staff" target="_blank">Ira Glass</a>’s beautifully
expressed insight into the thing he calls 'the gap.'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">If it’s new to you, I’m glad – you’re going to love it. I’m
just standing on the shoulders of giants here, but for those of you who’ve
never seen the quote, witness. Ephiphany, choirs of angels, glory and
splendour, etcetera etcetera…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ9wOwu48-3jcW9-XAmG3CzlbJd27qUXtI97AENyA6fjgHSF3-BzIAma1FAqf7gDjpgZ2tJHAa_PsyCjQn0TwjCbU-yUgpFe0i24GPiILo1EboiwA-wC9PxpN-2o2XQnRTc7uNLkGM5c/s1600/the+gap+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ9wOwu48-3jcW9-XAmG3CzlbJd27qUXtI97AENyA6fjgHSF3-BzIAma1FAqf7gDjpgZ2tJHAa_PsyCjQn0TwjCbU-yUgpFe0i24GPiILo1EboiwA-wC9PxpN-2o2XQnRTc7uNLkGM5c/s1600/the+gap+2.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And if you want to hear the great man speaking, and watch a
lovely film to go with it, go <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DlTRYcFBkq4" target="_blank">here</a> and spend a very special couple of minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It’s this gap – between what we imagine and what we end up
with – that’s the hardest part of being a writer for me. Because for me – like
you guys too, I guess – it’s not just the gap, <i>but the bad things that live in there</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Really bad things live in that gap; bad things with
insistent voices – our inner critics.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I was in London last weekend meeting up with some writerly
types, lovely people one and all, and after a couple of drinks we fell into
talking about the gap and the voices in it. There were folks there that
admitted to crippling bouts of insecurity. Guys and gals who shared terrible
tales of wrestling their inner critics, fighting the voices who told them they
weren’t good enough, or it couldn’t be done, or the last book was better, the
last chapter was better, the last sentence was better. There were folk who’d
ditched whole novels; burnt them up or ditched them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It happens to the very finest of writers. <a href="http://sleepwellandfly.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/thirty-minutes-with-john-le-carre.html" target="_blank">John Le Carre once set fire to a whole abandoned novel on a clifftop</a>. The guy's got a flair for ceremony, clearly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">That day I met writers with novels that were a chapter
away from complete, but the victorious voice in the gap had convinced them they
weren’t worth finishing. There were tales of battles with subconscious demons
that had prevented the putting of pen to paper for weeks on end. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And there didn’t seem to be any relationship between
experience and exposure to the voice in the gap. First-timers like me were
fighting it, sure, but people three or four books in were having the same
trouble. It doesn’t seem to be something you simply grow out of.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">What can we do about it? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Keep going, I s’pose. Like Glass
says; <i>“It’s gonna take a while. It’s
normal to take a while. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.” </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So here's to all those Nanowrimo-ers who've done just that. Whatever your 50,000 look like by Sunday night - there's 50,000 that weren't there before.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And that's got to meaning something, right?</span></div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-91734117129276185252014-11-06T11:25:00.002-08:002014-11-06T11:29:33.166-08:00For A.K., who asked me where I find the time<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This was June. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I got into work at 7am so I could leave on
the bell. Then I drove into Manchester and skirmished with afternoon shoppers
trying to find a parking space near Victoria Station. I knew if I managed to
get the Newcastle train on time both ways, I’d be back for 11pm. Had my laptop
and notebook with me – I was planning to kill a couple of chapters on the way
there and back. Turned out I needed close to a tenner in coins for the parking
meter. I only had a note. Twenty minutes until the train.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Rw1nk7PzfZ4NbFh8kMYUckdwpgC7anJVbtHQnuwKU6PehyCGCr0rmgHa2ytpBwHUpO7UOwaEINlhafdMD68LSsgiWHh7yD9GHPORQP07fefbO9Cr8m0Qcmtfmc73TeFE5rL79C2Ut2Q/s1600/image_update_img.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Rw1nk7PzfZ4NbFh8kMYUckdwpgC7anJVbtHQnuwKU6PehyCGCr0rmgHa2ytpBwHUpO7UOwaEINlhafdMD68LSsgiWHh7yD9GHPORQP07fefbO9Cr8m0Qcmtfmc73TeFE5rL79C2Ut2Q/s1600/image_update_img.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I legged it across zombie parking lots under the shadow of
Strangeways and through derelict industrial zones in my supermarket suit and
tie. Found a half-empty boozer, the snug full of brawlers, bought a packet of
crisps, fed the change into the meter, sprinted to the station.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My train was delayed by an hour. I wasn’t going make the <a href="http://northeastbookaward.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">North East Book Awards</a> if I hung about; the whole thing kicked off at 6.30pm. A
pissed off businessman said Newcastle was three-hours by car. It was 4pm. Back
in the car park, I gave my ticket to a guy in a Range Rover and started
driving. The writing I planned to do on the train wasn’t going to happen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Back in the summer, my Citroen had this thing where over
65mph, the steering wheel buzzed and shook like a dental drill. It was like
gripping an electric fence as I sped north on the A1. I listened to talking
books. Got to Newcastle at 6.50pm, sprinted from the car park to the event, knackered
and starving. There wasn’t any food on, but I got a couple of glasses of water.
My good pal <a href="http://www.dansmithsbooks.com/" target="_blank">Dan Smith</a> was there, looking dapper, and other shortlisted authors,
the lovely <a href="https://emmacarrollauthor.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Emma Carroll</a> and my fellow <a href="http://doublecluck.com/" target="_blank">Chicken House</a> author and general live-wire
<a href="http://www.samhepburnbooks.com/" target="_blank">Sam Hepburn</a>. It was great to see them. We were up on stage within minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It was a brilliant evening. Kids read clever and thoughtful
introductions, and in turn, we all stood and talked to the crowd in the
auditorium, then answered questions. Emma won. Dan got highly commended.
Brilliant books, wonderful writers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">They were going for dinner and drinks but it was getting on
for 9pm and I had work the next day. The roads were quicker and quieter on the
way home. I was in Manchester, quietly opening the front door of my house before
midnight. Upstairs, J was asleep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I levered open a couple of beers, lined up a playlist, and
started writing. By the time 3.30am came, I was wiped out. I got three hours’
sleep then drove into work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I’m not saying days like that one are typical, but
they’re pretty close to. The sections I wrote late that June night never made the book, but
that’s all part of the process. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Later that summer, I took the Citroen to a scrapyard
in West Point and got £90 for it.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-35815522201862638832014-09-14T06:23:00.003-07:002014-09-14T06:23:49.053-07:00Second Cheapest on the Menu<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This post first appeared on the terrific <a href="http://authorallsorts.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Author Allsorts</a> site, and in lieu of anything proper to say or news to report, I re-post it here. Everything's at crisis point at the moment and <a href="http://www.the-bia.com/" target="_blank">Nightwardens</a> swallows all my time. There'll be a new post soon - I just need to survive until week three of October, deliver the mss and collapse.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Here's the post. Enjoy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">‘Second Cheapest on the Menu’ was one of the many books I
never finished back in my twenties. It was (ill) conceived as an autobiographical
celebration of holiday food. Here’s its story. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I was ten when we went abroad as a family for the first
time. I remember my mum carefully cutting the rind off a camembert at an
autoroute service station. (“Is it meant to be like that?” we asked, staring
open-mouthed as she prodded it dubiously.) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I guess my parents got wise to France pretty quickly,
though. We went every year from then on. After each day’s driving, they took
turns unfolding the big map and colouring in the roads we’d travelled on. By
the time I was fifteen, the map was full, and every time we went out to eat,
we’d choose the ripest roqueforts we could find just to prove we were seasoned
explorers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The family’s eating out rule was an unspoken one, but
studiously observed. You could have anything on the menu, <i>as long as it was the cheapest, or second cheapest, in its category</i>.
So dad could begin the meal by opening the menus and saying, with a flourish,
“Choose whatever you want boys!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">A few seconds later he’d be selecting himself the onion soup
and the poulet frites, and the message was as clear as if he’d communicated it
using a series of handy flags. We chose cheap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The second-cheapest-on-the-menu rule lasted five years.
Then, one night, our world collapsed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">We were in a bistro near a campsite. It was a cool little
place with red-and-white chequered table cloths; candles jammed in wine
bottles; wall-mounted plates, carafes of local booze, lots of noise. The five
of us sat and dad said, “Choose anything you want boys!” whilst, naturally,
semaphoring his expectation that we’d go for the salad and the goats’ cheese
and bacon tart. The waiter came over. I was eldest so I chose first. I went for
the salad and the tart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Then it happened. My brother smacked his lips, placed the
menu carefully on the table, fixed the waiter with an innocent gaze, and
ordered a steak, medium rare, with mushroom sauce and frites on the side. There
was a terrified silence. Everyone looked at dad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">He nodded, and with that gesture, the world changed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">When my brother’s steak arrived, we stared at it. My tart
was suddenly rendered as colourless and unappetising as a photocopy. Jon
offered the meat around in carefully </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">sliced morsels. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It was heavenly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Anyway. Imagine if you will ‘Second Cheapest on the Menu’ by
Fletcher Moss, a combination of childhood memoir and comic road-movie in which
I travel those autoroutes again, paying homage to the family rule and only
choosing the cheapest meals available in bistros and cafes up and down France.
It’s got ‘hit’ written all over it, folks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Or something close to ‘hit’, anyway.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-83502839933002623462014-06-25T13:00:00.001-07:002014-06-25T13:00:54.473-07:00Tagged! The Chocolate Book Challenge<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Last month a good friend of this blog - hell, a good friend of <i>mine</i> though we've only met once -</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> the tremendous <a href="http://sarahnaughtonblog.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Sarah Naughton</a>, tagged me on <a href="http://sarahnaughtonblog.wordpress.com/2014/05/30/the-chocolate-book-challenge/" target="_blank">The Chocolate Book Challenge</a>, a neat little meme in which each blogger recommends three books in a chocolately kinda way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Personally, I don't regard chocolate to even <i>qualify</i> as chocolate unless it's astringent, midnight-black and bitter as Martin Amis in a really shitty mood. But that's not the issue right now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b><u>White Chocolate: <a href="http://www.chriswooding.com/the-books/retribution-falls/" target="_blank">Retribution Falls</a></u></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Lots of frothy laughs. Then after a while, maybe a bit cloying, maybe a bit insubstantial -</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> but <i>man</i>, you want some more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1QszTe3n2cvx_BlbhUSDeJCVPMJVfKMD_gvmOQ_-crdXrRef9FCBWbB9PRZE3p04lWmFGnOMKL1Hdw8OY8au1pwhsYgjirJjWWc3dEWNpaW3WfONsbCvjP2336-uwbIY9KdnPNwqeWU/s1600/retribution-falls-cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1QszTe3n2cvx_BlbhUSDeJCVPMJVfKMD_gvmOQ_-crdXrRef9FCBWbB9PRZE3p04lWmFGnOMKL1Hdw8OY8au1pwhsYgjirJjWWc3dEWNpaW3WfONsbCvjP2336-uwbIY9KdnPNwqeWU/s1600/retribution-falls-cover.jpg" height="320" width="209" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Imagine a knockabout sci-fi romp in which your protagonist is the twin brother of Han Solo. Then surround him with a quality crew of well-drawn, distinctive crazies; stick them in a battered ship called the Ketty Jay; send them out into the great blue-black yonder, and propel a gang of cops after them. Brilliant stuff. But if you're reading this on the bus, make sure no-one you know has taken the seat behind you. Strictly your </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">secret, right? Until you mention it on a blog.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b><u>Milk Chocolate: <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/books/2013/oct/17/goldfinch-donna-tartt-review" target="_blank">The Goldfinch</a></u></b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It's on everyone's list, sure. The whole world's doing it. But that don't mean it isn't <i>total</i> quality...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2F7QzgwN9r5B4I5bZVWtXd78OezVbfb0Lbiy2ApMu7pAhI7RPX7MMuwT2siyyM0ynQwcFu1QcmQJKV14H0fyyX75Pm6CvAun_I-vZ6Z_CeIe1rzSxLFlhrma33-C3DK-AaYR2Y8t8xCo/s1600/the_goldfinch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2F7QzgwN9r5B4I5bZVWtXd78OezVbfb0Lbiy2ApMu7pAhI7RPX7MMuwT2siyyM0ynQwcFu1QcmQJKV14H0fyyX75Pm6CvAun_I-vZ6Z_CeIe1rzSxLFlhrma33-C3DK-AaYR2Y8t8xCo/s1600/the_goldfinch.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br />I know a guy - let's call him Argyle for the purposes of this post - who has a problem with D.T. He, like me, is a massive fan of The Secret History. He, like me, thought that second one was just slightly rubbish. But the thing is, he's irked by those passages where she wears her education prominently on her sleeve. "Hey Donna," he says, acting out a conversation I'm pretty damn sure will never happen, "I've got Wikipedia too, you know." I'm here to tell you to ignore him, folks. The Goldfinch is very very good. </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b><u>Dark Chocolate: Joyland</u></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This is my stuff. Yeah, it's not to everyone's taste. Some may call it gloomy - <i>dismal</i> even. But it's distinctively dark and magnetic.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-VW5XT-dCcJjbJNAITb469hxQE3URU_pS_3425xkwDs4E7pjxzdxe4P4HQsiQQ38DCgZDidPzPmMmc3HkVaGSkdjw2T1haiKCAoLQ31l68_Je1iDippqbTNka8BH36TdGfR4F_dpnVxE/s1600/2511269.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-VW5XT-dCcJjbJNAITb469hxQE3URU_pS_3425xkwDs4E7pjxzdxe4P4HQsiQQ38DCgZDidPzPmMmc3HkVaGSkdjw2T1haiKCAoLQ31l68_Je1iDippqbTNka8BH36TdGfR4F_dpnVxE/s1600/2511269.jpeg" height="320" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I both love and hate amusement parks. Like clowns, they represent two things at once; a child-like joy at innocent idiocy -</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> an adult fear of something distorted, fake and ugly. Joyland enters this hinterland and tells a brilliant, haunting tale that won't go away. King is good at those chilling one-liners that represent the failure of language to cope with the supernatural. In 'IT', Pennywise says, "Everything down here floats." In Duma Key it's, "My father was a skin-diver," a killer line if ever there was one. In Joyland it's a character, choked by terror, who says, "It's the way she held up her hands!" The book is one of his best, and it's got a lovely pulp cover to boot.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Next, a brilliant writer for both children and adults; <a href="http://www.dansmithsbooks.com/" target="_blank">Dan Smith</a>. (You'll be hearing a lot about Dan in the coming months - some big titles on the way!) Looking forward to your answers, Dan!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-13970878771232232332014-05-30T08:00:00.000-07:002014-05-30T10:26:38.625-07:00Tagged! Seven things...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckL7W3fBQTyEu0uYpDYb2lPMOhtlnnkoq8-4vaakxPxyCWeg0HJSOyftrHuBtZgk4pS1eVfv58ng6pFEG01L_7Aqxjzbii8ZhcjNr7TgTtwKFIzzNksk9Mn7QtCdcTKFBlQ0V_Ao0DFw/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckL7W3fBQTyEu0uYpDYb2lPMOhtlnnkoq8-4vaakxPxyCWeg0HJSOyftrHuBtZgk4pS1eVfv58ng6pFEG01L_7Aqxjzbii8ZhcjNr7TgTtwKFIzzNksk9Mn7QtCdcTKFBlQ0V_Ao0DFw/s1600/download.jpg" height="257" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Much thanks due to the dauntingly interesting, multi-talented <a href="http://kerrydrewery.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Kerry Drewery</a> who kindly tagged me on the Very Inspiring Blogger Award tag. Kerry's YA novel <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/childrens-books-site/2012/sep/29/review-kerry-drewery-brighter-fear" target="_blank">A Brighter Fear</a> was shortlisted for the Leeds Book Award in the same category as, but a year before Poison Boy. Look out for <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/A-Dream-Lights-Kerry-Drewery/dp/0007446594" target="_blank">A Dream of Lights</a> too - Carnegie nominated no less!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Her brilliant Seven Things You Don't Know About Me can be found <a href="http://kerrydrewery.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. And here's mine...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">1. Fletcher Moss is a pseudonym. Yeah, you'd never have guessed, right? I named myself after a park. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2EHKO8MSc_aVxQ48-d838CZdmbps8zftWV2w2hg0oUCeph8W8GTOHut2ELdDJtxaIxiE-D3P4VWySzI8_z0BeJ9ec9fGNfCee7NzarjWZVtfwj0zNrk8Lm3jjNBALoe2kYB2NkgwG1A/s1600/Fletcher_moss_gates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2EHKO8MSc_aVxQ48-d838CZdmbps8zftWV2w2hg0oUCeph8W8GTOHut2ELdDJtxaIxiE-D3P4VWySzI8_z0BeJ9ec9fGNfCee7NzarjWZVtfwj0zNrk8Lm3jjNBALoe2kYB2NkgwG1A/s1600/Fletcher_moss_gates.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The park was named after a dude of some considerable local import. He wrote books too, though his titles don't inspire fevered excitement; not in me at least. Still, if you're interested, you could check out <a href="http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/like/261420659029?limghlpsr=true&hlpv=2&ops=true&viphx=1&hlpht=true&lpid=108" target="_blank">'Pilgrimages to Old Homes'.</a> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">2. I support <a href="http://www.htafc.com/" target="_blank">Huddersfield Town</a>. Oh well. The thing is - you don't chose your team - your team chooses you. I grew up there and when I was young I supported anyone but Town. But then I faced up to my responsibilities and embraced the mediocrity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">3. My brother writes for <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2012/jun/25/lloyd-cole-commotions-jennifer-she-said" target="_blank">The Guardian</a>. My cousin has a <a href="http://rampboy.com/" target="_blank">killer menswear blog</a>. They're both better writers than me by a mile.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">4. What's the best bourbon money can buy, I hear you ask? That'd be <a href="https://www.makersmark.com/" target="_blank">Maker's Mark</a>. You're welcome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">5. Every year since 1992 me and my brothers have dutifully listed our top five albums of the year. We're pretty damn geeky when it comes to lists. Looking back, I made some tragic decisions. Here's me drawing up my shortlist for 2004: </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGITEVatCPIoa8S0lWAup7IeGlZXNoLS13nrItA-Xl7ipiMgL04_Gzc5O8k-0svczpIRF0hjHBI5ov0mgQ4mkQTqKuSg9Vs5tWfQp8wBFi4YBWR2ofCsmWreXMjaDY29pQHrOd0JcnMs/s1600/Bo49AmYCQAEM7qp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGITEVatCPIoa8S0lWAup7IeGlZXNoLS13nrItA-Xl7ipiMgL04_Gzc5O8k-0svczpIRF0hjHBI5ov0mgQ4mkQTqKuSg9Vs5tWfQp8wBFi4YBWR2ofCsmWreXMjaDY29pQHrOd0JcnMs/s1600/Bo49AmYCQAEM7qp.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Beastie Boys? Good call. 'Egypt' by Youssou N'Dour? Well... it hasn't lingered long in the memory, put it that way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">6. Apparently I graduated from Manchester University in the same year as crime writer extraordinaire <a href="http://www.sophiehannah.com/" target="_blank">Sophie Hannah</a>. I've been the green-eyed monster ever since. An embarrassing admission but there you are; I'm not above a bit of envy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">7. I played in a five-a-side footy team for ten years. We were called the AFC Chieftains and we were terrible. Once, we got this great striker to play for us - he was whippet thin, lithe and strong and he was thumping in goals week after week. We got promoted. Then he got arrested and couldn't play while he was on remand. Our heaviest loss without him was 12-0. That was a tough night to get through. The following week, the ref suggested we try the veterans league. That's when I knew quittin' time was imminent. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Aaand that's your lot, folks. But don't despair; good times are just around the corner - I'm passing this one on to the amazing <a href="http://sarahnaughtonblog.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Sarah Naughton.</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Sarah is a Costa-shortlisted YA author who's first two novels have been critical smashes. Check out <a href="http://www.thebookbag.co.uk/reviews/index.php?title=The_Hanged_Man_Rises_by_Sarah_Naughton" target="_blank">The Hanged Man Rises</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Blood-List-Sarah-Naughton/dp/0857078666" target="_blank">The Blood List</a> - both brilliant.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Her blog is <a href="http://sarahnaughtonblog.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. And you can <a href="https://twitter.com/SarahJNaughton" target="_blank">follow her</a> on twitter too!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-39353756943409444402014-05-19T04:32:00.001-07:002014-05-19T04:33:04.955-07:00Radio Silence. Again.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">A cursory check of archives down on the right will tell you
that this happened before a couple of years back. It’s late Spring. The sun is hot and high; I can see the valley barbecues from my windowsill, see the blue pools in the squinting sun – and I hit crisis point.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">The thing is; I've got close to 30,000 words of re-writes to do and at some point I need to give my family a break from all this and go on holiday. <a href="http://www.the-bia.com/" target="_blank">'The Nightwardens'</a> needs to be delivered in July and there's a way to go yet.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">So rather than beat myself up for not finding the time to put the #pb52s up here, or write that post about <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/apr/04/into-the-woods-screenwriter-john-yorke-review" target="_blank">Into the Woods</a> I promised myself I would, or any of the other myriad little jobs I need to clear - I better just vanish for a bit.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Have yourselves a slow and easy summer... <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-78296788528470550072014-04-08T10:04:00.003-07:002014-04-08T10:04:25.797-07:00#firsttwentyminutes<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">...started a few nights back. I had a rare hour or two on my
own and a half bottle of wine. <a href="http://www.amctv.com/shows/the-walking-dead" target="_blank">The Walking Dead</a> – my go-to entertainment if it’s
late and I’m alone – is losing its appeal a bit. Season One started with a rush
of promise but Shane took the vibrancy and energy with him when he shuffled
offstage and The Governor’s no kind of replacement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">No, the early stages of this particular story were the best,
I’m thinking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">That’s where #firsttwentyminutes started – me thinking about
early stages of stories. Here’s the maths. An average movie’s, say, 120
minutes. The first twenty are roughly the 20% point. Time isn’t something I’ve
got very much of, so twenty’s the point where I’ll happily bail out if its not
killer. (Recent victims – Dragon Tattoo, re-make of Dragon Tattoo, Golden
Compass, Hobbit, Sherlock 2, new Star Trek 2, that thing about a boat in a
storm with Robert Redford.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Equally though, twenty’s the point where you know
you’re totally aligned with the world of the story, the motivation of the characters,
the direction of travel, the mood and theme – and you’re going to follow it all
the way to the end.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I thought to myself: if I watched the #firsttwentyminutes of
three films I really </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">like, I might learn something. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So I did… <i>and I did</i>. Here’s what happened:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>(i)</b> <b><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0289043/" target="_blank">28 Days Later</a><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">An iconic opening reminiscent of The Walking Dead. I’ve blogged about it
before <a href="http://sleepwellandfly.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/facing-brave-new-world-in-your.html" target="_blank">here</a> but what really struck me was this: the story-proper begins bang on
twenty minutes. To the second, I mean. It goes like this: we get the activists
raiding the animal-testing facility, the grotesque apes hammering at the glass
of their cages, the beasts released, the initial infection, the go-to-black,
then those phenomenal shots of Cillian Murphy wandering a silent and empty
London in his hospital pj’s. Twenty minutes clocks up, and he steps into a
church. His adventure begins.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>(ii) </b><b><a href="http://www.theguardian.com/film/2010/apr/15/the-ghost-review" target="_blank">The Ghost</a><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This was uncanny. Again: it’s to the damn second. There’s a lovely
opening scene on a ferry. An abandoned car is towed away after the ferry docks
at Vineyard Haven. The body of its driver is washed up on a nearby beach. Cut
to London: Ewan McGregor chats with his agent about a potentially exciting new
job – ghosting the ex-PM’s memoirs. He gets the gig, flies out to New York and
travels out to Martha’s Vineyard, the scene of the ferry-death. He steps out of
the back of a cab after a punishing 16-hour journey, ready to start his new
assignment. His adventure begins; twenty minutes, on the nose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>(iii)</b><b><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0286106/" target="_blank">Signs</a><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Three
in a row. In the first twenty, we get an introduction to an ex-priest living on
a farm surrounded by acres of deep corn fields. Strange stuff is happening and
his kids are attuned to it. Water tastes odd. The dog’s going bonkers. There’s
something out in the fields, and we soon learn it’s responsible for the
appearance of a massive crop-circle. The cops come to investigate. “Don’t call
me ‘Father’”, says Mel Gibson, a man with a tragic past. The following night there’s
another intruder on the farm – unidentified. Crop circles are turning up all over
the world, according to the TV news. Cops return. Refer to Mel Gibson’s
character by his first name. The adventure begins – twenty minutes exactly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Insert conclusion here, eh? The first thing I did once this all
came together was work out the equivalent for a YA novel of approximately
76,000 words. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It’s the 12,000 mark. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">If you want – <i>and I do, given my inability
to plot a book that actually works</i> – a rough rule of thumb, everything’s gotta
be sorted by 12,000; the protagonist, their motivation and flaws, the mood and
atmosphere, tone, world. It’s the place where ‘the adventure begins’. That’s
roughly the end of Chapter Six if you write in Fletcher-sized sections. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I’ve just re-read book 2, <b>The Nightwardens</b>, up to the end of
Chapter Six. The news is… mixed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Someone pass me the wine. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-15516055387983494072014-03-25T07:51:00.002-07:002014-03-25T07:55:17.869-07:00Lists and Prizes<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Gather round, gather round.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I had the enormous pleasure of attending the award ceremony
of the <a href="http://www.dudley.gov.uk/resident/libraries-archives/libraries/children-and-young-people/teen-book-award/" target="_blank">Dudley Teen Book Award</a> a few days ago. I met <a href="http://allykennen.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Ally Kennen</a>, shortlisted
for <a href="http://www.allykennen.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/new-book-midnight-pirates-is-out-today.html" target="_blank">Midnight Pirates</a>, and <a href="http://marie-louisejensen.co.uk/wordpress/" target="_blank">Marie-Lousie Jensen</a>, who’s novel <a href="http://marie-louisejensen.co.uk/wordpress/?page_id=50" target="_blank">Smuggler’s Kiss</a> had
made the shortlist as well. And I got to meet a nice big crowd of fantastic
young people who very graciously and politely listened to my blather and queued
up to get their copies of Poison Boy signed. It was a great occasion. Mostly
because I won! The Poison Boy pipped a whole bunch of brilliant books to the
post, and I’m delighted. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Thanks to everyone who organised the event and all the kids
who took part for making the day so special.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Coming up are a few more awards for which I’ve been lucky
enough to be shortlisted:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><a href="http://www.leedsbookawards.co.uk/2014/" target="_blank">The Leeds Book Award</a> has an amazing shortlist in three
categories and a killer website – where kids can vote for and review the shortlisted books. I'm getting trounced, but what the hell. The winner will be announced on
May 22<sup>nd</sup>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">On June 18<sup>th</sup>, <a href="https://learning.calderdale.gov.uk/cmbc/services/school-management/library/Lists/News/DispForm.aspx?ID=7" target="_blank">The Calderdale Children's Book of the Year</a> will be
announced, and the longlist is <em>waaay good</em>. PB's an outside bet at the best, I reckon.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><a href="http://www.staffordshire.gov.uk/leisure/librariesnew/whatsavailable/childrenteens/YTF/staffordshireyoungteenfictionbookaward.aspx" target="_blank">The Staffordshire Young Teen Fiction Award</a> is open for
voting now – you can vote up until the end of June. Go!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">And I’ve also been lucky enough to be shortlisted for the
North East Book Award. Details to follow on this one.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I know what you’re thinking. <em>‘Hey, Fletch – surely Poison
Boy on the </em><a href="http://www.branfordboaseaward.org.uk/BBA_Current/branfordboaseawa.html" target="_blank"><em>Branford Boase Longlist</em></a><em> was a mistake, right?’</em> Well, it’s certainly a
wonderful turn-up for the books. I get booted off when the longlist becomes
shortlist, so expect my name to be missing when the announcement is made in early
April.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Right. Back to work…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-34656102876447731002014-03-10T05:40:00.003-07:002014-03-10T05:47:12.632-07:00Reading in the Sun<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">When I was ten I went on holiday abroad for the first time.
And so I became acquainted with one of the greatest of life’s pleasures,
namely: reading in the sun next to a swimming pool. Ever since those Elysian
days, I’ve been trying, one way or another, to recapture the sheer
self-indulgent carefree joy of lying on my back on a towel, holding up a novel
until my arms ache, taking a dip to cool down, and starting all over again.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4uybjOnkeBU-9H6yUm-FqY6ho43yvFTPTUsVrJuaoe0mzufLNcytOkzVwVARD4N5Lio0aEkFCspYBJz7aAa5IfZElQ_AAOd1S_r7dlAZm55_MVvHzPnyR4YVmsUKANDfZKKRI4b-7mKU/s1600/108765645_reading_309547c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4uybjOnkeBU-9H6yUm-FqY6ho43yvFTPTUsVrJuaoe0mzufLNcytOkzVwVARD4N5Lio0aEkFCspYBJz7aAa5IfZElQ_AAOd1S_r7dlAZm55_MVvHzPnyR4YVmsUKANDfZKKRI4b-7mKU/s1600/108765645_reading_309547c.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">So when it was recently suggested to me that I could save
space by taking an e-reader on holiday this year instead, I shuddered. No
chance, pal. I want a suitcase full of battered books. That’s the whole point.
I’m no luddite guys, honest, but bear with me while I take three key images of
childhood holidays camping in France and expand on them a little by way of
explanation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><strong>Image one: melting paperbacks with black covers<o:p></o:p></strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhExc00ei5znbNBoKHqCbX-w00KKpfYmxYhOl5BPbkkFAKqGM8w6kAdzu2ddRRzrm-FV5o7Dtp12SQoOD3wi9u4GOBTLe-pKzitBuv_tOBuIbagnKsLdrBFfD4X5E6U6ClYfWKLveQo5w/s1600/stephenkingnightshift+uk+pb+1983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhExc00ei5znbNBoKHqCbX-w00KKpfYmxYhOl5BPbkkFAKqGM8w6kAdzu2ddRRzrm-FV5o7Dtp12SQoOD3wi9u4GOBTLe-pKzitBuv_tOBuIbagnKsLdrBFfD4X5E6U6ClYfWKLveQo5w/s1600/stephenkingnightshift+uk+pb+1983.jpg" height="320" width="202" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">You’ve never done this? C’mon. It’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">formative</i>. You’re reading a novel with a black cover – usually
<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/books/2012/jul/17/rereading-stephen-king-night-shift" target="_blank">Stephen King</a> or <a href="http://jamesherbert.com/" target="_blank">James Herbert</a> I seem to recall, though my <em>Fellowship of the
Ring</em> was also black – and you splay it open face down on the dashboard of your
parents’ car. Park the car – a green Capri – in full sun for three hours or so;
go and play table tennis with your brothers or something; then return to find
the binding-glue has completely evaporated in the baking heat and your book has
become a cracked and melting spine inside which are clotted sections of pages
still stuck together like little mini novels, usually no longer than eighty or
a hundred pages each. You can shuffle them about and read the book in the wrong
order. It’s ace.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><strong>Image two: sand between the pages<o:p></o:p></strong></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">…which empties out into your sleeping bag as you dip back
into a book you’d been reading on the beach earlier that day. The scene is
this: it’s late, but still light. You’ve got a torch with a knackered battery,
and you’re reading. It doesn’t matter what time it is. It doesn’t matter what’s
happening tomorrow. You’ve no mobile phone or internet connection – you won’t
have for another twenty years – and you’ve haven’t seen a telly for close to
two weeks. You’re utterly calm, centred and carefree; so much so you happily
recline in the sand rather than brush it all out. That night, you sleep like a
log.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><strong>Image three: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>swollen
and bloated books<o:p></o:p></strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Choose an appropriately epic summer read – the key here is
to make sure it’s already a whopper. Then leave it near a source of water and
engage in the kind of vigorous play which usually frightens other kids away
from the pool. Return to your reading spot to find your novel, sopping wet, has
warped and inflated into something close to twice its size. Dry it in the sun
and the pages get stuck with a pleasing ripple, never sitting flat again. The
spine arches into an inverted U shape. When you get it back home, it won’t fit
the slot you withdrew it from; it looks like you’re trying to put <a href="http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0039573/" target="_blank">Lennie Small</a>
in your bookcase.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Seems strange writing this now, it being early March and all, but <em>praise be</em> the sun’s been out for two days now. I know there’s rain
on the way. There always is. But here’s hoping we get a hot one this summer - a long, drowsy and endless sequence of books by the pool.
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Oh, and e-readers? </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Get lost.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-49481096895893486492014-03-03T05:53:00.001-08:002014-03-03T06:01:18.940-08:00Myazaki and Me<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This blog post was first published at the tremendous YA Yeah Yeah blog - the link to which is <a href="http://www.yayeahyeah.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. It is reproduced in full. Enjoy...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghB3GZSXfqeEn9hIouMGLBlPgvMQZfYOR9dAdviJdYAKkcZfBVitZf3oXE4Xkv6J_eydlwsIraUQHbLo2VfZ9XUWNeZQoHw_Bjz6KtfAYTr4yWfbyHy3vOik7JN1pmkC5Va0CMcr1G9Ic/s1600/untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghB3GZSXfqeEn9hIouMGLBlPgvMQZfYOR9dAdviJdYAKkcZfBVitZf3oXE4Xkv6J_eydlwsIraUQHbLo2VfZ9XUWNeZQoHw_Bjz6KtfAYTr4yWfbyHy3vOik7JN1pmkC5Va0CMcr1G9Ic/s1600/untitled.png" height="235" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">My fixation with age started in my twenties. I’m not talking
about wrinkles, bags or greying hair here; my obsession was different. I was
gloomily fascinated with how old writers were when they got their first novel
published. I’d heard somewhere that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donna_Tartt" target="_blank">Donna Tartt</a> had begun <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/books/2013/oct/18/donna-tartt-secret-history-modern-classic" target="_blank">The Secret History</a>
when she was nineteen, and that great swathes of it were the unedited first
draft of a teenage writer. Shelley wrote Frankenstein when she too was nineteen.
<a href="https://www.randomhouse.com/kvpa/eastonellis/#/home" target="_blank">Brett Easton Ellis</a>, I hear you ask? 21.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">There were others, too, and the knowledge of it was eating
me from the inside out. Every time a debut novel came out I’d find myself in a
bookshop somewhere checking the author’s bio, and working out their age. Twenty
four, twenty eight, thirty one – these kind of ages seem to figure highly as I
stood in bookshops over the next decade anxiously doing the maths. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Time, I knew, was slipping away. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">My problem? I couldn’t find any long-term traction for an
idea. I’d spend a year on a doomed piece of misplotted detective fiction, and
then my eye would be caught by something new; I’d declare myself on a mission
to write kooky travel fiction, strap a thrift-store tent to the back of a bicycle,
and be abandoning the whole sorry endeavour before sundown. Everything I read
became the missing link. For three years in my early thirties I was mainlining <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.theguardian.com/books/2000/jul/15/biography" target="_blank">A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius</a></i>
and trying to turn myself in to Dave Eggers having decided I was never going to
be Iris Murdoch. Then it was Julian Barnes; Martin Amis, Ian MacEwan. I
couldn’t ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">be true to myself’</i> because
I had no idea who I was. I couldn’t ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">write
what I know’</i> because all I knew was trying to be other writers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Then everything changed. I read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.philip-reeve.com/mortalengines.html" target="_blank">Mortal Engines</a> </i>by Philip Reeve (Reeve? 35, in case you were
wondering.) <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Damn</i>, I thought.<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> I used to love stories like this.</i> Then,
after a moment; <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I still love stories like
this</i>. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Really love them</i>. The YA
bug bit me and I was away – I was off – I had a direction and a drive and a
belief in what I was doing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I was 42 when <a href="http://doublecluck.com/book/The+Poison+Boy" target="_blank">The Poison Boy</a> came out; very much the
back-end of the distribution curve, I reckon. But since that day I’ve gathered
around me a gang of noteworthy guys and gals who also came (fashionably!) late
to the party. Ian Fleming was 42 as well; Raymond Chandler 51. George Eliot
belongs in this crew, as does (ahem) the Marquis de Sade.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">For Christmas this year, I got a tremendous little gift - a
book of critical essays that told the story of the Japanese animation giant
Studio Ghibli and its creative director the magnificent <a href="http://blogs.wsj.com/speakeasy/2014/02/25/watch-a-clip-from-hayao-miyazakis-the-wind-rises-english-version/" target="_blank">Mr Hayao Miyazaki</a>. I’ve
long been a borderline obsessive fan of his. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Kiki’s Delivery Service, Spirited Away, Howl’s Moving Castle, Ponyo</i>;
these are all, I reckon, timeless works of magic. And wouldn’t you know it?
When his first feature-length movie was released, he was 38. His second came
out when he was 44.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">So whatever your age or circumstances – I reckon there’s
pretty much no such thing as too late in this game. Here’s to making up for
lost time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-9171034973168553522014-02-24T08:58:00.000-08:002014-02-24T09:02:20.127-08:00Blog Chain: The Night Wardens<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I was recently tagged by the wonderful <a href="http://www.tonyballantyne.com/" target="_blank">Tony Ballantyne</a> in this blog-chain-meme-thing that's going around. There's four questions, and I get to answer them, then pass them on!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">You can read Tony's lovely take on it all <a href="http://www.tonyballantyne.com/blog-chain-all-the-things-you-are/" target="_blank">here</a>. And the best bit is I get to tag someone else, my pal <a href="http://sarahnaughtonblog.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Sarah Naughton</a>, Costa shortlisted YA novelist don'tchaknow - details at the end.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><strong>What am I working on?</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">Well - it's not a sequel to <a href="http://doublecluck.com/book/The+Poison+Boy" target="_blank">Poison Boy</a>. I would have <em>loved</em> to have written more about the Highlions gang, but someone needs to <em>publish it</em>, right? So </span><span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">I absorbed the blow, took it like a man etc etc, and cooked up something else. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">I'm <em>sooo</em> glad I did. I'm dead excited about <em><strong>The Night Wardens</strong></em>, a contemporary superdark sci-fi thriller set in Manchester around about tomorrow night. </span><span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">There are urban explorers, missing children, insomniac kids, a secret government project, a shoestring crew of maverick scientists, and a couple of sinister devices known as Kepler Valves. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">Now all I have to do is persuade someone to give it a home...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><strong>How does it differ from others in its genre?</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">It loves its genre, this one. I've been channelling the soundtrack to <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1650062/" target="_blank">Super 8</a> for over six months while I write - another story that loves its genre.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><strong>Why do I write what I do?</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">I guess it's just what sticks. I don't think I could ever write a book about - I dunno, I'm making this up - the developing relationship between a father and a son on a family holiday in Devon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">Unless there was something lurking down in that cave on the beach...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">I guess that's me. I'm a beastie-in-the-caves sort of guy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><strong>How does my writing process work?</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I wrote about this in a post called Little Pockets, which you can find <a href="http://sleepwellandfly.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/little-pockets_26.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">I have notebooks and I gather up loads of ideas from newspaper stories, items on TV, documentaries, and of course reading other people's brilliant books. Then I find the ones that are going to work. Some lie dormant for ages. Others seem to creep up the pecking order by gathering bits of other ideas and strengthening. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">When they start to look good, I begin trying to build them. They fall down a thousand times of course. Eventually, they stand up, wobbling drunkenly - propped up by all manner of crazy interventions on my part.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Now on to you, Sarah! Sarah wrote</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Hanged-Rises-Sarah-Naughton/dp/085707864X" target="_blank">The Hanged Man Rises</a> (Simon and Schuster), a Victorian supernatural thriller for teenagers, and her second book, <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=the%20blood%20list" target="_blank">The Blood List</a>, set in rural England during the witch-trials, came out a couple of weeks back. Check out her <a href="http://sarahnaughtonblog.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">blog</a> for her answers! </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-56408823826377141382014-02-18T08:53:00.003-08:002014-02-18T23:55:23.631-08:00Lessons from The Green Mile<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">How much do you guys spend on pricey tomes called variations of <i>how-to-write-a-killer-novel</i>? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I've flung a fair few quid in that direction over the years, with varying success. Worth my hard-earned was this:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.harpercollins.com/browseinside/index.aspx?isbn13=9780061357954" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ7vjVz1fwmvQGxP2lzvpi-G25G48-hiJ9jiqWAr4XB4KgSABC7C7eSB9f3lrNx9Rnn_tsx1svRdqSg8BT7E9mIBfHU87JFvpRSya0Oo8VFnv_dK0ZhLKnz2fKb3PFz1Nn7214EOaDpjs/s1600/how-not-to-write-a-novel1.jpg" height="320" width="205" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And more recently, this - which I'm getting on with very well indeed:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Writing-21st-Century-Fiction-Storytelling/dp/1599634007" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUkkABwaGdadCN2jXQcOcERftrks_lWaVZiwE2XLiMepDen-p5oPHKxFpHsUTN4bJg23qNfHO0U1JslldrVJ88xTE4jWVC1ocAbmBP0wQ1l27XHwDxLDcWxWhVJOkHiE6BJdc8SQKN8I/s1600/14523534.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">(And there's another one - Jerome Stern's <i>Making Shapely Fiction</i>, which I blogged about <a href="http://sleepwellandfly.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/chaos-and-shape.html" target="_blank">here</a>.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">But you can get far better advice in other places. Rather than seek out the latest handbook advertising an <i>instant-novel:just-add-water-and-stir</i>, I've taken to scouring introductions and forewords by generous writers who don't mind demystifying the process. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.stephenking.co.uk/site/Home.php5" target="_blank">Stephen King</a> does this brilliantly, to my mind. Recently I picked up a new edition of <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Green_Mile_(novel)" target="_blank">The Green Mile</a></i> because of its additional introduction and, wouldn't you know it - there was more in those four pages than I've seen in whole <i>chapters</i> of meandering guff from some less helpful creative writing tutors. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Grab it, kids. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Alternatively, clock my filleted version below -</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> for me being the sharing type (my mum often makes reference to my 'nice nature' - awww) I thought I'd share the three that worked best for me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My advice? Do them. All three, all the time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>1. Plan obsessively (at night). </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">SK: <i>"I go through cycles of insomnia...so I try to keep a story handy for those nights when sleep won't come. Each night I start over from the beginning, getting a little further before I drop off."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>2. Dismantle, rebuild. Dismantle, rebuild. Abandon, return. Dismantle, rebuild.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">SK: <i>"It was a good idea, but the story wouldn't work for me. I tried it a hundred different ways... Then, about a year and a half later, the story recurred to me, only this time with a different slant."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>3. Then, as soon as you possibly can, get going.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">SK: <i>"...I thought research might kill the fragile sense of wonder I'd found in my story - some part of me knew from the first that what I wanted was not reality but myth." </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It has the virtue of simplicity, I think you'll agree. So save your pennies, people, and rather than reading about learning by doing, just</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> learn by doing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.wisdomgroup.com/blog/10000-hours-of-practice/" target="_blank">10,000 hours</a>, a million words and all that stuff. Off we go!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-37555259632079360422014-01-26T02:17:00.000-08:002014-01-26T02:17:16.564-08:00Little Pockets<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This post first appeared in full on the smashin' <a href="http://authorallsorts.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Author Allsorts</a> site. Go and see what you're missing!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Writing as someone with a full time job and a young family,
I can sympathise with anyone engaged in the often fruitless battle for time, solitude
and laptop access. Having been on the front line of that particular conflict
for some years now, I humbly offer up some suggestions for how it can be
achieved. It’s a two-step programme, people. Not complicated!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large; text-indent: -18pt;">Streamline.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">All of us have a tendency towards multiple interests. Be it
origami, fell-running, electronica or shopping; crochet, croquet, cricket or
cards – most folk are fitting in a fair amount. I’ve decided not to. I’m a
one-hobby guy; an obsessive. I went to my last footy match just over three
years ago; played in my last one two years ago (the shame of my miserable
performance still haunts me by the way); I’ve never seen <i>Breaking Bad</i> or <i>The Sopranos</i>
or <i>The Wire</i> or <i>Prison Break</i> or <i>Lost</i> or <i>Mad Men</i>. Or <i>Eastenders</i> or <i>Corrie</i> or <i>Strictly</i> or <i>X Factor</i>, ever. I do watch a bit of telly – but I’ve become really
picky, and whatever I sit down with has to be feeding my thinking somehow or
it’s not worth it. I sold my guitar. I’ve cancelled subscriptions, ditched the
newspapers and magazines and stopped buying cookery books. I game at a glacial
pace in little twenty-minute sections; <i>The
Last of Us</i> will take me a year or so to complete given current progress. I
skip the gym and the cinema.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Instead, I write. And read, of course. To some, this might
sound like some draconian nightmare but I love it; I gets me four hours a week
undisturbed and for me that means 2000 words or more. Which means a first draft
in three-quarters of a year. Sometimes when I’ve got some time ahead of me,
that little devil on my shoulder might say, <i>“To
hell with it - let’s watch The Walking Dead!”</i> but I never do because –
here’s the thing – I’d rather be writing. Sad, but true.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>One drawback</b>: I
have <i>next to</i> <i>no idea</i> what anyone is talking about in the staffroom at work. Or
in the canteen. Or student common room, café or bus queue. Or anywhere really –
it seems to be all about telly. Still, a relatively small price to pay. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large; text-indent: -18pt;">Prepare.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Here’s a true story from last week. There’s this scene in
Book 2 – forgive me while I outline it: five characters stand in a circle
around a dead body in an open-plan space on the first floor of a warehouse
building. A minister of her majesty’s government is riding the lift, and is about
to enter the room. Furious chaos will ensue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I was tapping away when I thought – <i>wouldn’t Mr Government Man have some ministers with him</i>? So I
stopped and thought and decided <i>no he
wouldn’t</i> and carried on. Then as the lift doors opened I thought – <i>wouldn’t the terrified protagonist hide</i>?
So I stopped and thought. Then I made a broom cupboard appear and shoved him in
it. Then I thought – <i>can he see what’s going
on</i>? So I re-position him a bit and carry on. <i>Can he hear what they’re saying</i>? So I stop and think it through,
and start writing a half-heard conversation, but it’s not clear enough. Then I
think: <i>Government Dude <u>would</u> have
ministers with him. Researchers and interns doing his every bidding</i>. So I
reverse a bit and put them back in… and then I stop. An hour’s been wasted on
this. It’s not working.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">If you’ve only got four hours a week my friends, you’d
better make them count. Nothing’s worse than making a poor fist of your Sunday
session and thinking, <i>Ah well, I’ll fix
it next Thursday night</i>. So prepare. Think your scene through over and over
again before you fall asleep at night. Check the positions of your actors, the
props, the dialogue, the outcomes. Other writers have time to let characters,
relationships and themes organically grow – but I haven’t and chances are
neither have you. Hothouse your scenes for days beforehand and then write in
intense bursts. You’ll never waste time </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">staring at a blinking cursor again…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>One drawback</b>: J
will sometimes say to me, <i>“Where are
you?”</i> and I’ll come out of some reverie and realise I’ve fallen silent
halfway through a conversation. I’ve accidentally travelled to another world
and left her behind. Oops. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I won’t lie – I sometimes wish things were different. Log
into Twitter and you’d be forgiven for thinking the world is full of people
with <i>so much time on their hands</i>.
It’s like glimpsing the secret garden. One day I hope to be there too. But I
know it’s not going to be any time soon – maybe ever. In the meantime, this is
what most of us have – little pockets of opportunity in otherwise frenetic
days. Do whatever it takes to grab ‘em.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-78468548486318759492013-12-12T04:50:00.003-08:002015-08-02T00:08:07.730-07:00Fear of the Future... a postscript.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Chris Wooding is mighty keen to emphasise the lack of zombie-action
in his cracking teen siege-thriller <a href="http://www.chriswooding.com/the-books/silver/" target="_blank">‘Silver’</a>. <em>Silver</em> is, in Wooding’s words, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“28 Days Later meets Assualt on Precinct
Thirteen”</i>; and having outlined the book he then finishes with an ironic – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“And they’re not zombies, OK?”</i> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Whatever you say, Chris. What interests me is that Silver tells a story about transformation –
and fear of transformation. Victims transform and infect other victims, who in
turn transform. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">A common reading of
<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0077402/" target="_blank">Romero’s Dawn of the Dead</a> – undead hordes shamble mindlessly around a shopping
mall – is that it satirises western capitalist obsession with unthinking
consumption. <em>Silver</em> instead has its young victims infected by a super-intelligent
nanobot virus which transforms these poor unfortunates differently – turning them
into machines.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">If you’re going to critically analyse various sub-genres and
styles of zombie fiction, the important thing is – I think, anyway – to look at
<em>what the victim loses when they succumb</em> – and <em>what the survivors keep when they
don’t</em>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Look at it that way, and <em>Silver</em> – come to that, plenty of
other recent zombie flicks and stories – criticises a world in which individuality
and freedom of expression are being daily eroded and people are instead
becoming a homogenised mass of identical desires, obsessions and neuroses; machines
programmed to live according to the values and ideals espoused by talent shows,
soap operas, music videos and endless celebrity junkets. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">And as a critique of
the British education system, Wooding’s excellent novel is pretty damn fierce as well.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">So in terms of future-fears, something I rambled on about
<a href="http://sleepwellandfly.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/fear-of-future.html" target="_blank">below</a>, <em>Silver</em> lines up a significant queue of concerns and explores them
through an impressive, engaging story. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In the end, I s’pose all of us are frightened of changing into something
we despise. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And that’s why we love zombie stories – they remind us not to.</span> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-28651043834261244162013-11-18T01:46:00.002-08:002013-11-18T02:52:33.899-08:00Fear of the Future<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6dDqkp1PYZskmcoYc0hGjexGrS93X20KpwM9OnqPAwkEV9EzniVuXWQaAGYoLAtfRP2w47LpJraSZh8LIudi3VXfltYAOnE5vB_eKeeMxeQVvlzrVrcvMYUkWLPsF8AGWBkmgefDuXk/s1600/Walking+dead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6dDqkp1PYZskmcoYc0hGjexGrS93X20KpwM9OnqPAwkEV9EzniVuXWQaAGYoLAtfRP2w47LpJraSZh8LIudi3VXfltYAOnE5vB_eKeeMxeQVvlzrVrcvMYUkWLPsF8AGWBkmgefDuXk/s320/Walking+dead.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">t all started with a question. Might have been me, might
have been a pal – for the purposes of this post let’s call him Argyle; but
someone said something like, <em>“How come you can ironically discuss the vampire
tradition in vamp movies…”</em> – we must have been talking about <a href="http://buffy.wikia.com/wiki/Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer_and_Angel" target="_blank">Buffy</a> – “…<em>but you
can’t do the same in Zombie flicks?”</em> I know. That's just the sort of conversations we have. But it's true, right? When a victim washes up on
the banks of a fictional river with two holes puncturing their neck, one character
is going to say ‘vampire’ pretty soon. In the fictional otherworld, people know
about vampires. But when a group of shambling animated corpses rock up in the
same neighbourhood, they get called “geeks” “walkers” “sickos” “infected”.
No-one says, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jeez. This is like something
out of a <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001681/" target="_blank">Romero movie</a>!”</i> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">In the fictional otherworld, nobody knows about
zombies.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">That strikes me as pretty weird. You write a ghost story,
for example – your characters are going to know what they’re dealing with. They’re
going to be sceptical, but they’re going to know what a ghost <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i>, at least. If an army of dragons
terrorise a city – a B Movie scenario, I know, but bear with me – its shocked
inhabitants aren’t going to argue about how to describe these unfamiliar winged
lizards <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">But Zombies? No. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">How come? It took us a while to unravel this one. I’m not
pretending our answer’s anything revolutionary. Probably been said a thousand times
before by people quicker and cleverer than me and Argyle. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">This is what we did. Imagine splitting the various non-human
threats faced in fiction into two groups – ‘fear of the past’ and ‘fear of the
future’. Vampires and ghosts have their roots in ancient Eastern European
fairytale, and they are physical – or semi-physical at least – representations of
the past. Dragons too, maybe, with their similarities to dinosaurs. If it comes
from the past, there’s an assumption that your fictional characters will have
absorbed all that knowledge and awareness about them. Zombies, though, are
about fear of the future. They are what we will become if we don’t watch out;
brain-dead morons hooked on consumerism. And since zombies stand for our future
fears, human characters in zombie fiction must have never conceived of such
horrors before. Part of the drama is them struggling to cope with something so
unfamiliar. It’s inconceivable that one character might say to another; <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Let’s find a prison! We’ll be safe there –
like in Season Three of <a href="http://www.amctv.com/shows/the-walking-dead" target="_blank">The Walking Dead</a>!”</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">So – does our simple system of binary opposites work?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Not really. Where do Martians fit? Aliens? Or time travel?
All ‘fear of the future’ threats, surely. And yet if a fictional somebody invents
a gateway to the future, we’re going to have to call it a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">time machine</i>, whether we want to or not, since in the fictional
otherworld everyone’s read H.G.Wells and watched Dr Who.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Looks like Argyle and me are going to be arguing this one
out for months and years to come.</span> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-43859945340342404472013-11-04T11:51:00.002-08:002013-11-04T11:51:29.065-08:00Homage to NaNoWriMo<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As a kid I was an avid computer gamer and spent many a rainy
afternoon playing a dodgy Spectrum version of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hobbit_(1982_video_game)" target="_blank">The Hobbit</a>; a game whose
frame-rate was so slow you could pass getting on for twenty minutes watching a child-like
line drawing of The Shire compose itself before you could begin to interact. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0-Jwkar1gCRf3GtgthDSOIpivmKwanw65Df8wPV_LJYpHsxYtSs1oaGue9vtWBrzcil52OYTMNeCSdNsRDwTeq5FfXEgNEpHEwwvZI_VTzX2CZeO45E78J32Y43-aLAEesoxaC8MLFw/s1600/the-hobbit.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0-Jwkar1gCRf3GtgthDSOIpivmKwanw65Df8wPV_LJYpHsxYtSs1oaGue9vtWBrzcil52OYTMNeCSdNsRDwTeq5FfXEgNEpHEwwvZI_VTzX2CZeO45E78J32Y43-aLAEesoxaC8MLFw/s320/the-hobbit.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">But
I was absorbed. I was borderline obsessed. And my obsession manifested itself
in a burning desire to programme computer games.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So I set about mastering BASIC, a just-add-water-and-stir
programming language beloved of myopic schoolboys like me, and I made my first
game, a BMX-based adventure. The experience was soul-sapping. I never did it
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">There’s a huge disconnect between producer and consumer in
gaming. They make ‘em, we play ‘em - and we get what we’re given. The same goes
for movies and music. Why? Because these are art forms that need the mastery of
an entirely new language; one that could take years to acquire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Not so with fiction, though. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">If we read a book we love, and we’re lucky enough to have
received a decent education, we can pick up a pen and start writing… and a
story emerges immediately. An hour or so in, you could be re-reading your
opening scene and planning what happens next. Fan fiction is massive because
people get a kick out of doing just that. <a href="http://nanowrimo.org/" target="_blank">NaNoWriMo</a> fans the same flames.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So if you’re hammering away on a laptop somewhere this month
– great. Enjoy yourself. I’ll be rooting for you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Any art form which develops a way of closing the gap between
producer and consumer has a very healthy future, I reckon.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-70267901541672809852013-09-27T07:17:00.002-07:002013-09-27T07:17:39.591-07:00The Stranger in the Room<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">...a post that intially appeared on the magical <a href="http://authorallsorts.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Author Allsorts</a> website, and reproduced here for your reading pleasure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I once dedicated a lot of time – more than was sensible or
healthy for a grown man – building an imaginary city called Highlions. I
visited it almost every night for years, walking up and down its streets,
constructing it as I went; dropping a great island into the middle of a river
here, putting up a theatre there, adding a district up by the church, clearing
sections, repopulating them, adding wells and squares, stitching in lawns and
gardens and a street of fountains. In the end, I knew it really well. I could
tell which neighbourhood I was in by the sound of the river or the quality of
the street slang.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Then I learnt something. It’s one thing building the world –
it’s quite another introducing it to a reader. With this big sandbox of tricks
at the ready, the temptation is to throw your traveller right into the middle
of it; start with a riot of sights, sounds, smells; open chapter one on the
busiest street during a coronation, for example - parades, crowds, sweat and bustle – a
firework display of bold and brilliant world building. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Here’s the thing. I couldn’t get it to work. It was too much
crazy in far too big a helping; overwhelming for anyone who read it. They’d
say, “What’s this?” or “Why’s this happening? What does this word mean? Who’s
this guy?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So I started scaling back. Maybe not the parade, I thought.
Let’s start with market day. It still sucked. Oooh Kay. Maybe a quiet street… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Eventually I ended up with a room. And then it suddenly
started making sense. One boy wakes in a room with no recollection of how he
got there. Now I could build slowly. Corridor, balcony, roof, cellar, each
contributing to our growing sense of the world in which the action operates. In
the finished version of the book, the first hustle-and-bustle street scene takes
place in Chapter Six. The scene I once tried opening with is now Chapter Thirty
One.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It was long after I’d gone through this torturous process
that I saw others had tried and failed where I had. <a href="http://www.chriswooding.com/" target="_blank">Chris Wooding</a>, discussing
the troubles he endured whilst writing his novel <a href="http://www.chriswooding.com/the-books/the-fade/" target="_blank">The Fade</a>, comments; <i>“<span style="color: #111111;">I only cracked
it when I rewrote it so Orna starts the book in prison. That way, I got to show
the reader a tiny space in the world, and gradually expand it through
flashback.”</span></i><span style="color: #111111;"> As soon as I saw Wooding – a
damn fine writer – confess to having to start small, I was suddenly struck by
what I’ve called here the ‘stranger in the room’ device. I swear I’d never
noticed it before, rookie idiot that I am. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #111111;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And as is often the way with
these things, once you see it once, it’s suddenly everywhere: if you’re a
gamer, the room in question is often a prison cell – three epic fantasy games
from <a href="http://www.elderscrolls.com/" target="_blank">The Elder Scrolls</a> series, Morrowind, Oblivion and Skyrim, all open with
imprisoned characters before gradually introducing a new and unfamiliar world.
So does <a href="http://www.dishonored.com/" target="_blank">Dishonored</a>. <a href="http://www.emmapass.com/" target="_blank">Emma Pass</a> does it beautifully in her wonderful dystopian
debut Acid, and <a href="http://jamesdashner.com/" target="_blank">James Dashner</a>, not to be outdone in the claustrophobia stakes,
opens The Maze Runner in a lift. Atwood does it in The Handmaid’s Tale;
Treasure Island does it; The Hobbit does it; The Count of Monte Cristo does it
twice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Makes me wonder how I never
noticed, really.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #111111;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #111111;">So l</span>et’s imagine you’re a
writer wanting to set a novel in a thrilling and original fantasy world. Not
one that reshuffles a pack a familiar tropes; one that astonishes and delights
with its freshness. One that lives and breathes and when struck with a tuning
fork rings clear and true.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Go for it, brave writer. </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">But start off with a stranger in a room, OK?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-27825275141336258462013-09-19T03:38:00.000-07:002013-09-19T03:38:19.927-07:00Deep Sea Diving
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">Writing intensively for an hour or two is, on the surface of
it, a little bit like suspending life. Your body temperature drops; your pulse
slows. Peripheral concerns and worries rise up and away as you drop deeper. You
don’t eat or drink. Communication with the outside world shuts down. Breathing
changes. And writing with headphones on, as I do, is like a kind of additional
sensory deprivation; you can’t hear the TV, the movement of people in the
house, the kids in the street, the distant ice-cream van.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">Coming back out of that intensive period of concentration is
like surfacing again and dragging in a great ragged breath of air. It’s weirdly
disorientating to realise that life has moved on; things have happened. I remember
once as a kid, waking up and coming down the stairs at nine or ten at night and
being shocked to see my parents still up, talking and watching TV<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">. What – life goes on while I sleep?
Incredible! </i>All these years later, I still feel something close to that as
I swim up to the land of the living after a couple of hours in the writing
deeps.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">Then there’s the challenge of shaking off one world and
re-entering another. Rise too fast between them and you get the bends – you’re blood’s
full of bubbles and you find you’ve brought up a whole host of stuff with you
to the surface – it’s clinging to your wetsuit and struggling to breathe and
the change in pressure makes it apt to explode. It can take an hour or more for
the brain to realign and everything to seem normal again. Even then, you might
still find a wriggling bit of fantasy lurking at the bottom of a drawer or in
the pocket of your jacket.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hilary Mantel confesses to worrying over this. <em>“Is writing a
way of living,”</em> she asks, <em>“or not living?”</em> Is hour after hour of deep-sea diving
a way of embracing life, or ultimately just a retreat from it? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">I don’t know. But rather than fret about the state, let’s
look at the process: wherever we go when we write, we spend our time there
trying to bring other things to life. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">Swapping a bit of ours for theirs, maybe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04318090693703842724noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8636942215099453082.post-4580296624925891932013-08-17T09:17:00.000-07:002013-08-17T09:17:16.218-07:00Anything that Throws Life at You<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.kerismith.com/" target="_blank">Keri Smith</a> is doing pretty well for herself at the moment.
You can’t go into a high-street bookshop without being tempted by <a href="http://www.kerismith.com/shop" target="_blank"><i>Wreck this Journal</i></a>
or its wiser and more costly cousin, <i><a href="http://www.kerismith.com/shop" target="_blank">How to be an Explorer of the World</a></i>. I’m a
sucker for her work. I love it and I’m far from the only one; her appeal is
broad indeed. At school recently, I found myself chatting with three year nine
girls who were all meticulously following the brilliant and bonkers
instructions in one of Smith’s books and comparing the results. If you’re not
familiar with her stuff, she’ll fire you up with something like this:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Then suggest you get out of the house and do something like
this:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAP60iUvFU8Ii997bpUXDG4j4wdySaKE1Q5mjorK4no6xz5w1-AR3aRkWBsJ3Ho0h99JE27fNEZk2g3JZJn0bNcpL_I8WM5l5gpXvJbNC0IgdwisIXmZd-AMzEYFOT5zStddhz4dUBOFY/s1600/BR4XKlDCQAAnHVx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAP60iUvFU8Ii997bpUXDG4j4wdySaKE1Q5mjorK4no6xz5w1-AR3aRkWBsJ3Ho0h99JE27fNEZk2g3JZJn0bNcpL_I8WM5l5gpXvJbNC0IgdwisIXmZd-AMzEYFOT5zStddhz4dUBOFY/s320/BR4XKlDCQAAnHVx.jpg" width="222" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In a version of that spirit, I was riding my bike down
Chorlton Ees waiting for something interesting to happen and I reached an iron
bridge spanning the Mersey across which trams from Sale and Altrincham rumble their
way up into town. It happened that as I pulled up at the bridge for a rest, a
tram came hurtling past in a rush of air and noise, and I could watch it
through the chain link fencing only a few feet from me. The fencing there has
been detached from its rivets, probably by some kids looking for a thrill, so that
you can slip through onto the bridge and the tracks. There are two running
parallel to each other with a knee-high iron spine, maybe a couple of feet wide,
acting as a wall separating them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I watched a couple more trams rush past,
trying to figure out whether it would be possible to lie on your back on that
divide, eyes tight shut, and feel the trams careering past only inches from
your face. The howl of noise and the smell of diesel and axle-grease; all of that
would really be something. The kind of kid with the guts to do it; interesting
too. Someone forced to do it against their will – even more compelling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In a previous post <a href="http://sleepwellandfly.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/two-books-about-ideas.html" target="_blank">here</a>, I discussed a couple of books
exploring the source of good ideas. I’m not ashamed to say that there were
times, just after <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17237541-the-poison-boy" target="_blank">Poison Boy</a>, when I wondered if I’d ever get a decent idea
again. The anatomy of the birth and gestation of an idea is a constant
source of wonder for me. How the hell does my mind work? Will it ever work
again? And if so, <i>when</i>? The short answer is, erm...dunno. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">But that half an hour I spent with my face pressed against
the mesh of the fence watching trams is the beginning of something that’s worth
storing away; of that I’m sure. Perhaps it’ll have enough of a magnetic pull to
tug other thoughts into its sphere of influence and its gravity will grow.
Maybe it’ll become something more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">On the way home, I passed an advert for washing powder at a
bus stop, that claimed it could deal with “anything that life throws at you”,
and I misread it as “anything that throws life at you.” In a weird way, that’s
what Keri Smith’s work is about. Putting yourself in a situation where you get
a little bit of life thrown at you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Maybe, if you do that often enough, something will stick.</span></div>
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