I’m just back from Frankfurt Book Fair 2017, a phenomenal achievement of organisation and planning, in vast spaces, in huge halls with enormous corridors on several levels….
So why did I go? I’ve not been especially well and have had a very sore foot, so going to a place where I knew I will have to walk for miles – kilometres, these days, I suppose – would seem to be the maddest, almost a masochistic ambition. Though I honestly can’t give you many practical reasons why I would choose to, I knew I had to go. And as it turned out, I went simply to be there, to listen, and absorb a frantic, noisy and almost overwhelming experience.
I stayed for two nights in a modest hotel in the suburbs, and, deciding what to wear each day, went with my papers and hopes. Nothing came of them at this particular event, but I have listened and learned, and I can now navigate my way independently around Frankfurt, with the help of taxi drivers. It has been very interesting to watch true professionals networking; to observe a stick-thin agent enjoying a glass of wine for lunch…and to notice how hard it is to climb onto any kind of ladder by the usual routes.
I met two author friends at my hotel, a chance encounter which proved rewarding and wonderful. Xaviera Hollander wrote a book which I read as a youngster and which I remember fondly, even after decades; she and Brenda Love made me feel enormously welcome. Thank you so much for your company!
Noticing how much the book promotion industry works for itself – ‘no entry except strictly by appointment‘ – (of course it does, how naive of me to suppose otherwise) – it would be so easy to simply give up and go home and give up trying. Okay, so I know when continuing with something becomes the equivalent of flogging a dead donkey. But even though I’m tired, I’m only momentarily deflated by the realisation that, on this occasion, perhaps, my dreams are not what I thought they would be.
I’m not giving up.
All set for the London Book Fair 2018! Watch this space.
Let us assume that we have examined all our most pressing excuses for not writing and are finally prepared to face them down, ignore them, and get on.
We are prepared to hear, ‘Oh, I don’t see why you are wasting your time. Millions of books are published every year. What makes you think yours will have any chance?’ and blithely we can dismiss this and other discouragement because we are happy to undertake the pilgrimage. We have decided it is what we want to do, so that is that. Well done.
There is one more species of question to ask which only we can answer. Are we ready to write the story of our life? Is it interesting enough, thus far, to keep us busy and thinking and occupied for the next five years? Will it engage an average reader? Simply put, have we lived enough, done enough, do we have enough years under our belts or not?
This is not a trivial question. John Mortimer, whom I truly admire, lived a very long life, and wrote three main volumes of autobiography, because, I assume, stuff kept happening to him. Only problem now is, that if we hope to read all about him, it is best to read these volumes in sequence, though I suppose it is fine to read about his admission to the bar in one volume, and the problems encountered in being very old, in the next volume we retrieve, being read, haphazardly out of sequence.
And no-one wants to embark on a life-changing project feeling unsure about whether our work will be worth reading. If that kind of uncertainty is nipping our heels, the best thing to do is put aside the ambition – for now – and go and do some more interesting things. After a while, we can revisit our ambition and see how we feel about it. I have done that. The idea of writing has been with me for about thirty years. And I was lucky to spot a natural pause in my life that I could put to good use in starting to take writing seriously.
If the answer to questions such as these is, “Yes, I’ve certainly had an interesting life, and I laugh in the face of your skepticism!” then we are ready to write.
I may want to write my memoirs, but for some reason – maybe our curtains need washed, or maybe I need to have coffee with my friends – I constantly put it off. Which is interesting in itself, and worthy of a whole book alone. Why do we forever put off doing those things we really want to?
I’m forever making excuses not to write: I’m far too busy, I have to collect the kids in ten minutes, what do I know..? though I have found that as I get older, those excuses and many others like them – how dare they! – have abandoned me.
The kids grow up and make their own way, the busy jobs lose their appeal or are done by others – the jobs look after themselves, perhaps – so assuming I have finally run out of excuses, I am left with only question to stop me getting started, What do I know, anyway?
Simple! You know the most anyone will ever know, about your own life. That qualifies you, above all others, to write about it. The next question or stumbling block is, I don’t like to presume….but, if you will pardon me for saying so, that is rather putting the cart before the horse.
When we start writing memoir, we do this primarily for ourselves. Note, we are not writing for anyone else. We are writing for ourselves alone. So, of course, we can presume to do that, since we are not imposing our views or our undertaking on anyone else – unless we are also assuming that the time we take away from our normal day to write, is presumptuous in itself, and we are keeping our fingers and toes crossed that no-one will object. But that is like saying that we should not paint, or dance or sing, in case the neighbours, our friends our family take umbrage. (We often do think this kind of thing, believing that what our neighbours, friends, etc think about what we are doing, is more important than our doing it; which is rather nonsense, and a little sad.)
However, if we can’t get beyond these kinds of objections – if they keep their grip on us and stop us getting started – perhaps the best conclusion to draw is that we are ten or twenty years too early to get started: As we get older, believe me, other people’s opinions matter, of course, but we get impatient. Eyes on the clock, one day it dawns on us that if we don’t do this now – immediately make a start right now – we may never do it.
So, in considering how to write memoir, it might be an idea to take a quick gander through all the automatic excuses we come up with, and test their strength against that of our resolve. Because we are going to need all the resolve we can muster, to undertake the writing of memoir.
To mark three years since the publication of his second detective novel, A Fistful of Seaweed, I caught up with author John Bayliss to find out about his latest writing projects.
I first met John on the HarperCollins’ writers’ on-line community Authonomy, where I achieved my first big break, securing a coveted first-place gold star and editorial review, thanks to the generosity and tireless support of John and hundreds of other readers and writers. Three years is a long time in a writer’s life…
John, you introduced us to detective Springer with your first novel, Five and a Half Tons, published in 2013 and followed by A Fistful of Seaweed published the following year. What writing projects do you have up your sleeve at the moment?
I have recently finished a brand new novel and I am wondering if I ought to seek out some trusty beta readers. This is the project that elbowed another of my other novels, Serpentine, out of the way, and I believe it does have something of the same flavour and similarly memorable characters. It’s called The Garden of Infinite Vistas and is set entirely within a very large garden. (When I say large, I mean huge.) In terms of genre, it could be classed as fantasy or magic realism, although it’s definitely not a conventional fantasy novel. It is rather long, too (120,000 words).
Do you plot closely, or do your characters guide you?
Bit of both. For the Springer novels (Five and a Half Tons and A Fistful of Seaweed) I literally made up the plot as I went along, which meant I had no more idea of what was about to happen than my hapless hero did. Then I had to do a lot of revision and re-writing to make sure that everything made (relative) sense at the end. There is a third unpublished Springer novel: my contract with my publisher was only for two novels.
In my current and future works-in-progress, I have decided to start by writing an outline of the plot first. I don’t expect to keep to it, because a story has a way of finding its own path irrespective of what you might have planned. Having an outline, however, does mean that I’ll always know where I’m aiming for, even if the story does take a few detours or shortcuts on the way. It’s a bit like a road map that I might take with me on a touring holiday: useful for navigating my way back to somewhere recognisable if I ever get lost, but it won’t stop me exploring a side road if it looks as though it might lead to somewhere interesting.
When I’m writing, lately, I find my characters coming to meet me in my dreams. Does that happen to you?
I often have weird dreams, but I don’t remember meeting any of my characters there. My dreams tend to be dominated by landscapes and unusual buildings, often large rambling houses with secret rooms. There are people in those dreams, but they have very little distinct identity of their own. Maybe they’re characters from novels I haven’t written yet who are planting ideas into my unconscious that will surface again once I get around to writing about them.
What motivates you to write?
I have been writing fiction for almost as long as I have been able to write. To write is a part of my personality, and I cannot conceive of a situation in which I did not write. If I don’t write anything for a day or two, I start to get itchy keyboard fingers.
How do you find time to write?
I was made redundant from my full time job a couple of years ago and decided that my finances were robust enough for me to take early retirement. So basically I have as much time as I need. (I don’t seem to get much more writing done, however…)
And when do you write best?
I can be thinking about writing at any time of the day or night, irrespective of what else I might be doing. Daydreaming about the characters or the situation in the current work-in-progress can be an excellent way of coming up with plot twists and interesting character quirks.
When I write the best is probably the first half of the day. There’s usually a point around four o’clock in the afternoon when my brain says: “That’s enough! I can’t do any more” and that’s when I stop.
A word about your future plans?
I need to decide what to do with The Garden of Infinite Vistas. The choice is either find an agent, find a publisher directly without an agent, or self-publish. I’m not sure at present which is the best course.
My current work in progress is a science fiction novel set on a spaceship, a story that addresses some important questions about the future of humanity. I also have a science fiction short story accepted for an anthology of stories being published by Grimbold Books—I haven’t been told when that’s due to be published, but hopefully it won’t be long. I also have plenty of ideas for more stories, including an idea for a very large ‘epic’ story that will unfold over several volumes, so I’m expecting to be busy for some time to come.
I’m very glad to know you have so many projects coming to fruition. Thanks so much for our interview, and the very best of luck with all your creative endeavours.
I guess it is easy, being alone at home, to feel lonely.
Even so, most us us know, there is no guarantee that, even with a houseful of people, we won’t feel lonely; which is not a good feeling.
Miranda, The Tempest, by John W Waterhouse
I love sitting peacefully listening to silence. And when I sit quietly, that is when answers come and I feel less alone. It is part of a greater realisation that I am actually never alone. If I can only remember, on the days I feel hassled, to listen out for that awareness. Hard to put into writing, but true, even so.
How many of us say we are lonely? Yet, do we make enough good quality time to rest peacefully? Even when doing something relatively calming, like reading a book or listening to music, we fret about all the things we should be doing.
The long school holidays were an interesting time for me. Seldom alone, I decided to abandon all ideas of working, and in doing so, the stress melted away – so I really enjoyed the time off, though as time passed, I felt myself yearning for opportunities just to be alone. Even an hour was rare. There have been plenty of challenges, but staying with them made them easier to resolve easily.
I need a connection with silence, which, however it works, seems to offer lots of answers far more easily than if I decide I have to push and shove. How lovely when we can find answers by doing ‘nothing’ and discern a way forward; when we discover that all the things we create while resting are valuable and on point.
Why should work be a stress, or rest, a snatched, hurried interlude? That doesn’t seem to be a good way to live.
Okay, so perhaps three weeks ago, I completed what I thought was the ‘second full edit’ of my first novel, Lisa Somerville, and set it aside with a great sigh.
Then something rather strange happened. Quite apart from editing, I really itched to write again. And I discovered that I write best in silence. I have been listening and writing in the silence and what I have discovered quite surprises me. Perhaps you can recognise some of this.
I love, love, love!! to write. I really do enjoy giving voice to my characters, and in silence I can do this enthusiastically and with real joy.
Each character in every story has her or his own life and motivations. They each need to fully inhabit their own space. That’s to say, Susan, Sheila and Richard deserve to fully inhabit one novel; and Lisa, Simon and Chrissie to inhabit another. I humbly apologise for my failure to appreciate this sooner and beg their collective humble pardons for this oversight.
I now have to rewrite Lisa Somerville again, because when I read it afresh, I am itching to make changes and bring it to life in new ways. But before I can do that, I need a clean, clear outline for the second book of the series, Susan Scott. Because what happens in book 2 affects what happens in book 1, I must avoid repeating scenes where the lives of the characters intersect.
By writing the second book before I complete the first, I am hoping to clinch that illusive requirement, internal consistency. (I used to complain about writing backwards, but honestly, I’d rather know this has to be done, than wait around wondering why my writing is stalled.)
Though I enjoy writing, and write better with a sense of urgency, there is no especial hurry. I can enjoy writing in my own time. But while I have the enthusiasm, I must write. No dawdling please. Keep going slow and steady.
It’s all about timing. Instead of worrying that I have to do a thing by next week, I’m beginning to notice that all things happen in perfect timing, and that there is no reason in the world of what we do, to make our doing of anything any more painful, stressful or worrisome than it already is. If we are not enjoying what we are doing, why are we doing it? What might seem like a hard knock, or a tall order, simply becomes fun again.
To answer the question, Is it better to do a thing badly or not at all? I take refuge with something I say a lot these days.
It depends.
We need both motivation and caution, bravery and guile. A tag team of two players works well if one has the courage, another focuses on detail.
As I get older and bolder, personally I tend to the view that it is better to do a thing than sit and think about it, or wish I had done it. I hate regrets. I hate saying, ‘If only I’d had the courage to get on with that ….’ and knowing I could have done something to help life turn out differently.
I would rather have a go at something, perhaps starting small until I gain the confidence to attempt something bigger. There is only one way we learn, after all, and that is by making mistakes; by realising that mistakes are only stepping stones, questions to answers we haven’t found yet.
Who would object to us getting a thing wrong? Authors and writers are not in the habit of creative catastrophe, are we? We’re unlikely to burst the dam, to send someone to their death or to motivate someone to evil… That being so, we really have to decide to go ahead one day, to live without having all our ducks in a row, before we know the answers, before we can be sure.
Unlike in real time, where we build a path, then walk along it, in creative attempts, our path – our luck, our outcomes – are the result of a decision, a choice we make, to do something; at which point, the path comes to meet us as we walk along it. There are no guarantees with that process, except that there is a lot we can learn.
When we work from home, it is vital not only that we work hard – everyone does that – but that we keep our focus on the tasks we are hoping or needing to achieve. Maybe I can illustrate this by taking a look at how I used to work.
“Ho hum, it was nice to see so-and-so, and great to chat. Oh, dear, I’m awfully late, and I’ve SUCH a lot to do before hubby gets home. Better get a move on….”
“Better see what we need in the way of shopping – I can always pop into the supermarket on my way home, I drive past it…”
“I always give daughter a lift, it doesn’t take long, and anyway, I’m awfully bored doing this today. Don’t feel like it.”
Okay, so we all do this sort of thing. But I had also developed the habit of chatting amiably to all and sundry, and actually, they neither wanted nor expected it. Partly that comes from an ancient habit of being ingratiating, but also it comes from not valuing my time well, and from not actually realising that THIS is what I want to do, and by golly, I’m going to do it.
The most successful people in the world are those who get things done… because there are so many ways in which we can be distracted, pulled off course and inveigled into doing things that leave us feeling rather niggled and confused – classic signs that we should not be doing them.
Working for oneself, it really is essential to stay focussed on what we want. That is easier to do when we accept that people will bask in our certitude. They will be relieved to see us actually doing what we want, and being happier as a result.
And, it’s easy to know if I am on target – if it’s all to the good, I feel livelier, happier, and stuff happens much more easily.
The Federation is a collective of enthusiasts of the written and spoken word and welcomes writers of any complexion into its ranks: poets, writers of prose and short stories, bards and lovers of the spoken word. To quote from their header:
The Federation of Writers (Scotland) is an organisation dedicated to making the written and spoken word available to the public of Scotland, with respect for diversity and recognition of additional support needs.
The Federation is run by volunteers and membership is free. It is very easy to join the FWS by visiting the website, which is a mine of useful information and contacts. A monthly newsletter offers a comprehensive round-up of events happening around Scotland and includes a very useful digest of submissions being sought and upcoming competitions.
Each month I look forward to catching the latest news.
Anne Clarke generously gives her time to organising the monthly newsletter and sending it to our IN boxes. However, I first met her in person, when, at the invitation of the Events Convenor of the FWS, Rose Ann Fraser Ritchie (who also facilitates our writing group, Thistle Scribblers), she came to the Thistle Foundation’s Edinburgh Headquarters , to share some of her poetry with us and to hear about the writing that Thistle Scribblers enjoy each week.
I was so inspired by hearing Anne read her own poetry. No-one needs special or particular qualifications to express themselves, and poetry, that sublime form which can say so much with a few words, hints at the complexities of life in ways that few other mediums for self expression can match.
Thanks so much to Anne Clarke for featuring me this month, and for all the encouragement I have been offered by the Thistle Foundation and the Thistle Scribblers.
We all have these key moments, when we have to do what it is staring us in the face, or go stir crazy.
Like the time I decided, ‘Right, I have to write my memoir. I have to do this, or I’ll die. And, it might kill me in the process – from embarrassment, anxiety, exhaustion, sadness – but God dammit, I’d rather die trying, than die of boredom and depression and regret. If writing this – and going through hell – is what it takes, then fine! I’ll take that chance.
Life always gives us challenges. And the longer we ignore them, block them out, dodge them or make excuses, the harder will be the next tests we face. Similar challenges form a pattern that may be very familiar, and will tend to revisit and repeat, until we get the message that, yes, we do have to deal with this head on. The longer we prevaricate, the greater the challenge grows, just to test our resolve. We have to take our courage in both hands and clamber aboard. The longer we leave it….
But such challenges are offered for a reason: perhaps to allow us to recognise and rework a defeatist pattern, to teach self worth; even, sometimes, to resolve issues have haunted us forever, such as a pattern of failure or settling for painful compromises, never allowing our true colours to shine bright.
In my next non-fiction book, Making Miracles, which is set for release in 2018, I share my dream diary, in the writing and re-reading of which, I recognised repeating patterns that have persisted over lifetimes. These I had to take on board if I wanted to make progress in this life. Luckily, I did, in the nick of time.
So let’s follow our dreams, people! The world needs folks with courage and faith to do what they know they have to. Let’s live like today is our best day.
October 13, 2017
Frankfurt Bookfair 2017
Fran Macilvey Fran Macilvey, Path To Publication 2 Comments
Frankfurt Bookfair 2017
I’m just back from Frankfurt Book Fair 2017, a phenomenal achievement of organisation and planning, in vast spaces, in huge halls with enormous corridors on several levels….
So why did I go? I’ve not been especially well and have had a very sore foot, so going to a place where I knew I will have to walk for miles – kilometres, these days, I suppose – would seem to be the maddest, almost a masochistic ambition. Though I honestly can’t give you many practical reasons why I would choose to, I knew I had to go. And as it turned out, I went simply to be there, to listen, and absorb a frantic, noisy and almost overwhelming experience.
I stayed for two nights in a modest hotel in the suburbs, and, deciding what to wear each day, went with my papers and hopes. Nothing came of them at this particular event, but I have listened and learned, and I can now navigate my way independently around Frankfurt, with the help of taxi drivers. It has been very interesting to watch true professionals networking; to observe a stick-thin agent enjoying a glass of wine for lunch…and to notice how hard it is to climb onto any kind of ladder by the usual routes.
I met two author friends at my hotel, a chance encounter which proved rewarding and wonderful. Xaviera Hollander wrote a book which I read as a youngster and which I remember fondly, even after decades; she and Brenda Love made me feel enormously welcome. Thank you so much for your company!
Noticing how much the book promotion industry works for itself – ‘no entry except strictly by appointment‘ – (of course it does, how naive of me to suppose otherwise) – it would be so easy to simply give up and go home and give up trying. Okay, so I know when continuing with something becomes the equivalent of flogging a dead donkey. But even though I’m tired, I’m only momentarily deflated by the realisation that, on this occasion, perhaps, my dreams are not what I thought they would be.
I’m not giving up.
All set for the London Book Fair 2018! Watch this space.
Please share: