The view from the Big House

My bedroom window at West Dean College

An account of what I found useful as a writer for young readers at the 5th Chichester Writing Festival

Our first session focused on the experience of having work translated from Book to Film- a not too uncommon experience for some children’s writers. The key point was that adaptation has to embody the spirit of the book – not seek to replicate it slavishly. I found during the MA that retelling my story through drama helped me focus on what was key to my story. This approach might help with summarising for a synopsis, or honing your pitch.

Interestingly for me, some common themes cropped up in both the New Novelists and Poetry sessions. There was a good deal of debate about social media and other ways of reaching your readership. As was pointed out by Greg Mosse in the Writing for Children panel, that’s a normal thing for them. My take is that engaging with buyers and readers ( who are not necessarily the same people) is fruitful for both parties. Performance poetry develops more passion when people respond – and our readers engage more fully with reading when they relate to the author just the same as any reading group. This is a far more encouraging way of looking at interaction than as a cynical marketing exercise.

You might not think that the crime writer Mark Billingham would be that relevant to a writer for young people – but his account of learning to trust his readers, to allow them to create much of the story in their own heads stayed with me. Good advice for any writer, and for us, it avoids that awful pitfall of patronising our readers. More of that later.

Saturday found two sessions on Fiction and Non-Fiction. In both cases, the balance between making it up and rearranging the facts to create a better narrative was a matter of much discussion. Finally, it’s down to the writer’s integrity and judgement. That is no different in our world – though perhaps the debate over ‘bad’ language brings it more into focus.

Certainly what publishers and agents want outlined in the seventh session, is pretty much the same regardless of age written for –  a typescript bursting with truth and a committed passionate author to go with it.

‘A good agent or publisher can help a writer to think big.’ Felicity Bryan

 

Having paid for it (as a true Yorkshire woman) I went to the Military History discussion. I knew from previous conferences that the session you least relish can provide surprising insights – and I am always scared I might miss something. Here what struck me was that despite the apparent need for technical accuracy, it was the human responses that meant most. Truth to the experience was essential – and that the senses conveyed this best.

Many writers for young people are Inspired by History. An amusing  point from this panel for me was made by Jason Goodwin  – he spoke of ‘smuggling information through the entertainment’. I think this is a good approach to avoid ‘infodumps’ in any genre.

Joanna Trollope spoke on Saturday evening to a packed Sussex Barn. She exhorted us to

trust to the power of the unconscious mind.

Her focus has always been on the human drama – and we all know if your reader doesn’t engage with the central character then nothing else matters. She was surprisingly hard on her younger self – saying she had lacked courage. I felt I must resolve to dig deeper.

Sunday’s after breakfast panel looked at New Publishing: I’d say writers for young people need to be aware of the changes and to utilise them as our readership will. Again it comes down to that interaction idea – and that there are new and developing ways now. (You might want to look at Alison Baverstock’s The Naked Author on this subject)

Last, but oh so definitely not least, we had Sally Kindberg, Bridget Strevens and David Whitley. One remarkable and emblematic feature for me was just how much more literally colourful we writers/illustrators for young people are. Francesca Simon picked up a similar yet deeper point: if you want creativity and passion, read children’s lit. She made it quite clear she felt that some adult authors were missing out by ignoring our wealth of approaches and subjects.

I so much admired how hard these panellists tried not to talk down to the people holding their books. They all wanted to provide the best possible, not some watered-down pallid version of adult writing or art.

Finally, the theme of all this for me was that there is no ‘Great Divide’ between writing  for young people and adults. It’s a  continuum in which many things apply across the whole range. Truth to the narrative, considered application of technique and engagement with your readership are the same regardless of the age catered for.

So I’d recommend this to any of my SCBWI colleagues – and anyone interested in any form of writing precisely because the focus is on writing as a craft. Professionalism is the same for all.

 I would expect the Sixth Chichester Writing Festival to be in September 2013 – it will be worth going.

 

 

 

Great Expectations…

This morning I’ve been writing lists and  laying out clothes in preparation for the 5th Chichester Writing Festival. I can feel a fizz of excitement inside and my inner eight year old is squealing and running around.

I get to meet proper writers and get taken seriously. The buzz has made my writing this week go really well – and I haven’t even crossed the marble entrance hall. What will I be like when I get there? I hope I don’t gabble too much. At least I’ve got some pennies to buy drinks – that always helps.

It will be good to meet up with West Dean College friends who are going. On the whole, I find the writing community very supportive – and perhaps children’s writers even more so. ( Name drop moment : Francesca Simon, David Whitley, Sally Kindberg &  Bridget Strevens) We all need time with others who understand our obsession.

So there will be more here on Monday – just what silly things I said and what intelligent things I heard. Now to pack and catch the bus.

I wonder – what do you like about festivals?

Copy – wrong?

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery – anon

It is very easy to echo a favourite writer. Like picking up a strong accent, you may well do it in unconscious admiration. Does that make your work fake? A blend of your most-read authors would not be plagiarism as such – but would it still be your work ?

Since we are a result of our life experiences – and a book properly read and interacted with is an experience – I would say this is inevitable. We write who we are – and we imitate.

But I’d suggest taking it one stage further. Do it deliberately.

Take an aspect  – the structure of a thriller, the rhyme scheme of a poem, one choice character – and play with it. Analyse how they did it and apply your new knowledge. You might draft a thriller set in a completely different world, compose a poem on another topic or send that character on a new voyage.

It worked for Constable – an avid copyist:  Shakespeare – a great ‘borrower’ of stories and writers such as Jean Rhys in ‘Wide Sargasso Sea’ & Susan Hill in ‘Mrs de Winter’. There are many more examples – indeed for most of art history learning from the Masters (please forgive the sexist term) was de rigeur.

You may wish to acknowledge the original  – to make the source obvious. I did so in my poem ‘Meanwhile, Mr Ferlinghetti’ because it was a reply – but it is not compulsory.

There is plenty of controversy in this area – arguments over intellectual property are complex and often heartfelt. I would say that it’s not the idea that matters – it is the execution: something I have learned from Greg Mosse on the West Dean MA. If I put in the spadework and create something new – well, then it’s my work.

I would love to know other people’s views on this – is it always wrong to copy?

Judge not…

…that ye be not judged. Matthew Chapter VII verse i King James Bible

First of all I recognise that I need to look beyond first appearances. It’s too easy to dismiss people with assumptions and not make the effort to tease out their story. I need to observe actively, with more empathy.

The same goes for portrayal. Even the minor characters can be more than just ciphers with a bit of effort. The tiny receptionist with her tightly plaited hair muttering ‘Work isn’t important, hey handsome?’ behind her boss’s back as he wanders off – she’s too good to waste.

I also need to dig deeper, to talk to people my mother warned me against. I will admit to a certain degree of cowardice on  this one – but I know what I aspire to:

But oh how I need to be aware of the voice that disapproves of people. A close relative of the Inner Critic, it needs shutting up. In my work, I must let the reader see what the characters do, hear what they say – and leave it at that. Let the reader decide – provide no commentary from my interior Hyacinth Bouquet or even the closet fashionista.

I don’t need to pass any remark on Bermuda shorts, coral rubber beach clogs and sports socks pulled up to the calf, do I?

Finally , although not all adjectives and adverbs are an evil – they are suspect. This is how the nasty little Imp of Prejudice airs its views. Before I have even realised, it has sneakily slipped a stereotype into my story. Not only is it patronising, it’s lazy.

I wonder what tips my fellow writers have for exorcising this particular demon?

‘Psst – wanna do something illegal?’

Truth told, Kathy Evans didn’t quite put it like that – but I did get the chance to go with her to the launch of Miriam Halahmy‘s ‘Illegal’ at Blackwell’s Bookshop, Portsmouth University . She mentioned it on Facebook and I blagged a lift – she is a delightful chauffeuse, I have to say (or I might have to go in the boot in future.)

As a writer, you don’t tend to get out a lot. It’s a solitary business – so a bit of human contact is good. Not only that but the outside world provides its own stimulus. Even a change of scenery can prompt better writing – and going anywhere near a place of learning – well…

There is more. I was glad to see Anita Loughrey and Amanda Lillywhite there – more SCBWI pals. Regular readers will know how much I value the fellowship that SCBWI offers. Not only do they understand the obsession you have, they share it too  – and encourage you in your lunacy. That’s some support network.

I hope Miriam felt suitably encouraged.

It isn’t just about the friendships, though. There is also a good chance of meeting agents and publishers at launches. You might build up other contacts such as publicists – and it does no harm to be seen.

However, it was when Miriam read the beginning of ‘Illegal’ that I found the most personal reason to be there. People from a fair old variety of decades and types stood and listened. They went  into that little world that Miriam had squashed inside the pages of her book. It wasn’t a world that I could make. It wasn’t marketed at the readers I write for – but the story still existed. And that’s what mattered to me – one day it could be me. People might want to enter my little worlds.

I need that hope to hang on to.

Thank you, Miriam and Kathy.

All that is gold does not glitter

This week I thoroughly enjoyed this blog post by Meg Rossoff  and the reply from Kathryn Evans here. Both wrote fascinating and well-constructed accounts of their intriguing lives. I feel honoured to have such brilliant people among my friends and acquaintances – and I know very many of you reading this could come up with equally extraordinary autobiographies.(Please do – I’d love to read them.)

But I also felt very humble. I haven’t done anything half so interesting – I’ve had a rather dull little life. How can I possibly account myself a writer in amongst these wondrous folk?

Well, I do have that essential quality for a writer – imagination.

My CV may not include the distillation of noxious herbs and their application to vile old women ( you’ll be glad to read), I may not be qualified to mount the most spectacular fireworks display in a ruined priory – nor am I actually able to shape-shift and explore the depths of the North Sea – but I can dream these things up.

And I am something of a pirate – I raid books and magazines and TV programmes and films and other people’s conversations. I sneak off with the shiny bits and clothe myself in their finery. I can nab a bit of someone else’s life and try it on for size: the more magnificent, the better.

Sometimes I even dress that way.

So my friends, if you are like me, a bit commonplace, it’s fine. The source of your writing may not be obvious.

Even a little grey pigeon can be a peacock on the inside.

 

Look up from what you’re reading!

It’s World Book Day on Thursday March 1st .

Now if you’re reading this you are probably a writer, obviously a reader (snortle) and you understand the importance of books in education. * If you’re a teacher, I have some extra ideas for you.

You probably know I care a lot about libraries – and I’ve found an organisation that helps two thousand of them. It also helps over two million people have access to books in sub-Saharan Africa. The press often writes these countries off as basket cases but they are full of people who want to better themselves just the same as you and I do.

So I’m keen to promote the work of Book Aid International. The website has lots of ideas for fundraising – I rather thought I’d do a bit of a bake for the forthcoming Chi-SCBWI night at my house. My friends won’t mind a bit of scoffing and they may be kind enough to cough up.

As they say, Books Change Lives.

For those of you that work in schools, Book Aid are running two competitions:

You could win  £100 of National Book Tokens for your school. The closing date is 2 April 2012 

1. Dress up competition for pre-school and primary schools

Simply email a photograph of your handmade crafty book character costumes, along with a brief explanation of how it was made and the materials you used.

2. Poetry competition for secondary schools

Write a poem on the theme of ‘change’ and email your entries to Book Aid International. Remember quality is more important than quantity!

I know that I am very lucky – I can read pretty much anything I like. I’d like to share a little bit of that good fortune with other people in this way – how about you?

 

 

What if…

Recently, there was a brief moment when it appeared my mortal span might be somewhat shorter than expected. As you might anticipate, it tended to concentrate the mind wonderfully. Now it turned out to be a ‘false alarm with good intent’ as the RNLI put it – and I shall no doubt trouble this world for a good long while yet – but it did make me think.

Speculation is an author’s business: we love to think what if?

So what changes would I make?

You may have read The Top Five Regrets of the Dying – which seemed like a good place to start. Being true to myself holds good, but not working so hard? I think if anything I want to give more to my writing now. Expressing feelings –  I am exploring them through  my work. It’s hard to express something you’ve only got a vague idea of. The last two – keeping in touch with friends and allowing myself to be happy – these seem less related to my writing – and yet… Certainly my SCBWI pals are a wonderful help in every direction, and enjoying my writing on its own terms is crucial.

So not much change there, then.

The one that got me, the big scary thing was TIME.

But at my back I always hear
Time’s winged chariot hurrying near

(Andrew Marvell, To His Coy Mistress)

How to deal with that paralysing sense of urgency? Motivation.

I was unable to attend Bekki Hill’s Motivation Masterclass – but I was grateful to read Liz de Jager’s post about it, and also Julie Day’s account. The questions that Bekki asked are challenging – but essential.

For my part, I desire honesty. I want to convey the truth of my imagination. And if that means it may not be obviously commercial, then as long as my wonderful family keep supporting me, so be it.

I want to fail better. I yearn to create something big, even if flawed. I need to stop dabbling about in the shallows, stop staring at the tiny details out of fear. If I only look for nudibranchs, I’ll never lift my head up. I won’t hear the dolphin chittering at the tiger shark and then chase it off.

Whatever my circumstances, I want to make the best of them. Can’t sleep? Read – and create a commentary on the strengths in the work, and how they inform my writing. In a waiting room? Observe , listen, make sense of what occurs. How could I adapt and use that? Look for the insight in every moment.

This final point may sound bleak, yet it is oddly liberating:

finally, I’m on my own

It’s my responsibility to nurture myself. I am very appreciative of every kind and supportive remark I’ve had. I’m so glad of all the help I’ve been given. But it’s down to me to find the time and space for this writer to grow – no one else.

What do you think?

The most democratic of spaces…

The Library Book is published today – and I have taken the words of one of its contributors to headline my post this week. Kate Mosse, a local Chichester resident, is a frequent and eloquent advocate on behalf of libraries. She speaks up for libraries everywhere, even though West Sussex is relatively healthy on that front.

She is in good company.

Big names such as Stephen Fry, and tireless long-term campaigners like Alan Gibbons, are asking all of us to do something for our local libraries on Saturday 4th February : National Libraries Day.

My contribution will be a little unusual. Instead of taking books out, I shall bringing books in. ‘The Local Rag’ ( yes, Castle Printers‘ news round up really is called that) ran a story on the library wanting books. The Witterings Library was overwhelmed – which shows the level of local support. Since the original influx, they have asked for paperbacks under two years old and hardbacks under four. I will do what I can to provide.

You might like to check what your local library wants – or in some wonderful cases –  is giving on Saturday. Show them you care.

Join a wonderfully diverse band of supporters : The Bookseller, The WI,  and Unison.

Please sign this e-petition ( if you haven’t had chance yet ) by  FEBRUARY 5TH

Buy the Library Book from Waterstones or Amazon or even better from Hive and delivered free to your local bookshop.

Take books in – or out – of your local library.

Do something so that people will have the chances you had in the future.

Keeping it real

One of the better aspects of insomnia is the chance to listen to Radio 4 on the i-player. This week I have been particularly enjoying the Pilgrim series of radio dramas by Sebastian Baczkiewicz. He places English legends in the present day, where the Greyfolk intervene in our Hotblood world in unsettling ways.

It is notable that the contemporary setting makes the eerieness of the traditional tales all the more believable – a kind of corroborative evidence. As a younger reader, I loved much of the work of Alan Garner and Susan Cooper for that sense of it could be happening right here, right now. I still delight in the Narnia Effect of slipping into other worlds, the intersection of the parallel such as Philip Pullman uses. I believe we all like to think we could be the one who notices such things.

What if all the myths and folktales of these islands were true? And what if they were not only true but present now in our world? All the spirits, existing, as they have always existed, in the gaps between tower blocks, in the shadows under bridges, in the corner of our vision…
(from the Pilgrim programme information)

Some writers take another approach: ‘it could have happened’. I think of Pat Walsh and Katherine Langrish with their beautifully depicted historical worlds which also have magic at their core. Some go for an alternative history: Joan Aiken springs to mind and for adults, Susanna Clarke’s ‘Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell’. Here in particular, the sheer detail and interweaving of stories gives an internal validity which I find engaging.

But for sheer consistency of a created world, J. R. R. Tolkien takes every laurel wreath going.

I am almost certain that he once said he wanted to bring back fear into the leafy lanes of England at twilight, to create a truly English legendarium (1). He clearly didn’t intend something twee and Disneyfied: I think he would approve of Pilgim’s dark fantasy tone.

 

(In fairness to Disney, I have never forgotten Sleeping Beauty’s  Evil Queen, or the demon in Fantasia -and I think this is due to the confidence with which they are portrayed – true to their legendary European roots.)

It is the conviction that matters. Read this:

Of all the tales told on these islands, few are as strange as that of William Palmer. Cursed, apparently, on the road to Canterbury in the spring of 1185 for denying the presence of the Other World by the King of the Greyfolk  or Faerie himself, and compelled to walk from that day to this between the worlds of magic and man.

Which word sticks out like highlighter on an illuminated manuscript? ‘Apparently.’

For a split second, we step out of the writer’s world and look at it, not gaze round inside with wonder and terror.

Don’t do it.

I am not arguing for the po-faced rigidity of the worst of High Fantasy. A light touch such as in the ‘The Phantom Tollbooth’  or any of the Discworld novels does not distract from the internal consistency of their creations. You go there with the writer as your rather cheery guide.

Indeed, the best writers take the reader by the hand and go side-by-side with them into the terrors and delights of their own universe: think of David Almond. All writers can achieve this credibility – no matter which filter on the spectrum of realistic to speculative fiction they use. The ‘trick’ is to truly be there yourself.

 

(1) If you can locate the quotation, I would be inordinately grateful to know.