Tomorrow, on 5th March, which is designated as World Book Day 2015, Capability Scotland are launching their newest fundraising event, ‘The Great Scottish Book Off’, which will then run through the rest of March.
Paul Delaroche, Portrait of Son Joseph Carle
Family, friends, colleagues and neighbours are invited to get together and swap pre-read books. If there is a modest charge for admission, or a collection, the idea is to pass these funds to Capability, to further their work and projects in Scotland.
I am delighted that tomorrow morning, at 8.30, I am making a guest appearance on Radio Scotland, live from their Edinburgh Studio, to help publicise Capability’s campaign. I look forward to a friendly and candid interview. Later in the evening, at 18.30 – 19.30 I shall be giving a short talk and a reading from ‘Trapped’, as well as answering questions. If you can, please do come along to Blackwells, South Bridge, Edinburgh. It is going to be a great event.
My sincerest thanks to Capability for inviting me to be part of their event, and to Blackwells Bookstore, Edinburgh, for being so generous and accommodating.
Books, in one form or another, have been lent and borrowed for thousands of years. In the modern age, when kindles are all the rage, we cannot swap electronic devices so easily, when we wish to share our discoveries. ‘Real’ books remind us of the joy of sharing and engaging with others as we discover new reads. Books are made to be shared.
In the run-up to World Book Day on Thursday, 5th March, Capability Scotland are running the Great Scottish Book Off, inviting us all to dig out a few books we have read, and arrange a book swap event with our friends. The idea is to organise a get-together, charge a modest admission, and then pass any funds raised to Capability Scotland.
I am delighted to announce that on the evening of 5th March from 6.30 – 7.30 pm at Blackwells Bookstore, 53-62 South Bridge, Edinburgh, EH1 1YS. I will be giving a reading from Trappedand answering questions. Please join us if you can.
I am very grateful to Capability for inviting me to contribute to their fundraising campaign, and I am looking forward to a lively and friendly event.
“Narciso (Narcissus pseudonarcissus), Jardín Botánico, Múnich, Alemania 2012-04-21, DD 01” by Poco a poco – Own work.
It has never occurred to me before, in any way that I could explain, at any rate, that how we feel when we are reading a book, is different from the way we may feel about the same book, when we are reviewing it. I may be totally engrossed in a narrative, and yet, when I review a book, I might comment on the social context, the narrative flow, whether the characters are plausible and so on.
I asked my husband if this was legitimate. Would it be acceptable, for example, to be totally taken up with a story, and yet, on review, discount that feeling and focus on more general issues? He said that was entirely to be expected; and indeed, I suppose that is what it means to review a book. We read, then we stand back and take another look.
I have read several of the ‘Jack Reacher’ books, – I tend to blitz on one author at a time – and while I was reading them, I have found myself totally caught in them. That I began to see them as rather two dimensional and, as the series progresses, increasingly violent and morally debatable, are issue that at first did not really get a look in. I was more intrigued with Child’s use of language and short sentences….It was only after having read a solid handful and noticing the increasing violence and the oddly dubious moral distinctions, that I finally decided to stop reading them. Distaste came slowly, when I saw patterns emerging. Pick up a Reacher book, and I have to admire the hook on almost every page…..In a review, I would mention that they are compulsively readable, but would want to focus more on my reasons for refusing to read any more of them.
It works both ways, of course. I have read lots of chic lit, and know by now which authors are most likely to tick my boxes, but have to be careful not to make too many assumptions. Reflecting on how much I would have missed if I had simply hiccupped at the occasional grammar flub in my latest read before putting it away unread – ‘actually, this is really amusing and she has the flavour just right’ – reminds me that sometimes, persistence pays off.
Should we focus on how we feel when we are reading and enjoy getting carried away by the action? Or are we right to offer a more reflective opinion? Compulsion is what sells books, but are reviewers right to focus on other issues?
Henry Robert Morland – ‘Woman Reading by a Paper Bell Shade’
Will bookshelves one day be consigned to museums? Written out of our furnishing requirements as interesting curios from past times, and gazed at wonderingly by precocious five year olds, the way that children now peer at old telephones and record players? There is a section in the National Museum of Scotland devoted to lifestyle icons of recent history. I’m sure I have used some of these venerable machines. Perhaps, given my age, I should just climb in and join the exhibits….
Kindles are great. But will we all be using them, all the time, in ten years? Will there be any need for shelving for books, when my kindle offers several free dictionaries as part of the start-up incentive built in with every new purchase of an e-reader?
Will house-builders have an even better excuse for building homes in miniature? (“Ye don’t need shelf space no more, love, so we can just put the standard king-size up against the wall here, like that”)
My guess is that we will always need books, and there may come a time when we are immensely grateful for the old back numbers that we now overlook, with their modest orange and white covers, and their restrained delvings into human suffering. As has been suggested in many post-apocalyptic narratives, we may need to tear out the pages to use for personal grooming or for fire-lighting; or, when the power runs out, we may actually start reading them again.
Our current technical infrastructure relies on power, generated mostly from non-renewable resources. Plastic, metal, wood, paper and water….all finite. ‘Real’ books have the potential to last for hundreds of years, and can pass through countless pairs of hands. Electronic media, in contrast, are ephemeral, here one day and deleted the next.
Today I am delighted to introduce Frances Kay, a writer and children’s playwright. I first met up with Frances (‘Fan’) on a lively on-line writers’ forum. Apparently, she agreed to read my own book after noticing that I had included the word “sossidges” in a comment to a mutual friend. We swapped reads, and since then, have kept in touch. Fan’s writing is very strong, eerily atmospheric and convincing, threaded through with sardonic wit and humour. Fan’s first book, MICKA was published in 2010 by Picador and won 100% positive reviews from The Guardian, The Times and the Financial Times, as well as being featured on BBC radio 4’s programme ‘A Good Read’. Her second novel, DOLLYWAGGLERS, has recently been published by Tenebris Books.
Welcome, Frances. Can you tell me a little about what inspired you to write the ‘Dollywagglers’?
A long time love of dystopian literature, ever since I read ‘1984’ when I was fifteen. Orwell was my idol – a principled, disillusioned man with a love of England and the English language. I was especially taken with Orwell ‘s uncompromising vision of a nightmare future when I learned that he was fatally ill with TB as he wrote it, and died soon after it was published.
I wanted to express my disappointment, my anger and my love for England in this story, which I could only do from an exile’s perspective (I was living in Ireland when I wrote it), and when I was diagnosed in 2012 with an inoperable tumour, I felt reckless and emboldened to write my truth, even if it is hard to read. Parts of it were hard to write.
Any tips for developing a writing habit? Do you write every day or do you prefer to write when you are in the mood?
For a person who makes their living from writing, I’m a very bad example! I either need a commissioning theatre company breathing down my neck, or I have to wake up at seven and feel the desperate urge to get to my computer. I write in bursts, in a trance state. Of course, editing and improving can be done less breathlessly!
You call DOLLYWAGGLERS a dystopia, filled with refreshing anger and dark, bitter humour. What attracts you to writing dark fiction?
We all have a shadow side that needs to come out and play. I write plays for children and young people, and they deserve hope and optimism, but when I write for adults, I can let loose my darker self – and she has a field day. I also enjoy reading this kind of fiction, if it is well written. I’m thinking now of books like Helen Dunmore’s ‘A Spell in Winter’ – she’s a terrific writer.
What was the publishing process like for you?
Two publishers so far, and they could not have been more different. Picador is an imprint of Macmillan, and being accepted by this huge concern with its glamorous reputation was such an honour, I was ready to say yes to anything. They have a publicity and sales machine, so the process of getting my book ready for publication involved me saying yes to a cover I didn’t like, that I felt did not reflect the story within. After MICKA was published, I felt rather neglected. The next book by Picador followed mine a week later, and it was Emma Donohue’s ‘Room’. The excitement around that book and the Booker shortlisting, reinforced my feeling of being suddenly orphaned. No one from my publishers came to the launch event I set up, and I had to suggest to Picador they enter my book for the McKitterick Prize [it was the runner up].
Tenebris Books is another kettle of fish entirely. DOLLYWAGGLERS is the first one of this new imprint of Grimbold Books to be published, and they went to huge efforts to help me launch it with a splash. They asked for my input with the cover, and Ken Dawson, their designer, transformed a photo I gave them of two seedy puppets on Southwold beach into a sleazy, brooding cover that exactly captures the spirit of the book – I love it. They also provided champagne for the launch in London, and Zoe Harris, my editor, flew over with her husband from Norway, and made a fabulous speech at our launch. All the production team was there. I felt so loved! Even more importantly, Zoe and Sammy [of Grimbold Books] love the book with a passion, and our editing was done painlessly and collaboratively. They even paid an advance – and that is a rare thing, these days. I hope they will publish my next book.
And your future plans?
My life expectancy, though uncertain, is, I am assured, at least ten years. If I can publish another three novels, I will feel completely fulfilled. I want to leave something my children and grandchildren can read when they are older; I’ll still be a presence in their lives. I’m working on a sequel to DOLLYWAGGLERS; I felt there was a lot more story to explore. And I’m still writing plays for young people. Plenty more ideas in my head!
Thanks for inviting me on your blog, Fran. I’ll be happy to have you as a guest on mine, as I love your book ‘Trapped’, which has a wonderfully poignant, evocative cover.
Thank you too, Frances. It has been such a pleasure to host you today. I hope all your publishing dreams come true.
I am a reader, so I’m always asking, to buy or not to buy books? Unfortunately, the supply of lovely books is limitless, unlike my current bank balance, (though I live in hope!) I read books all the time, everywhere. It is part of what I do for work, and in my precious leisure time. I find as I get older, that my eyes – or rather, my left eye – gets tired more easily; and I crave the comfort of a good soft seat, so reading a PDF file at the home computer screen is not ideal. In any case, I associate that posture with being ‘at work’ so that reading begins to lose its comfortable aspect, and occasionally feels like a chore. The last thing I need is another job to do.
It was a dream last week that finally persuaded me to buy a kindle. Despite my reservations – and the fact that e-books have no second hand value….I had a snapshot dream of waiting to turn right, in my car, but having to wait for a gap in the traffic, as other cars drove seamlessly past, getting on with their lives.
Cars are my body-life metaphor. So there I was, waiting to turn right and head for home, while other cars sped past. ….Okay, so, maybe it is time to join the e-crowd and get connected. No longer excluded from books only available electronically, now able to join in with e-book promotions and discussions on-line about the latest group read, I can fetch down all these books I have been meaning to peruse from the internet and join the discussion. That in itself is good enough cause to celebrate.
If you had said, “Stephen King” in my hearing last week, I would probably have turned away with a hint of distaste, perhaps thinking, “I have enough contemporary horror in my life already, thanks very much”. Which just shows how wrong you can be. Facebook is great too, a wonderful social network of friends and buddies who offer moral support and good ideas. It allows sharing, too, like this wonderful link, for instance:-
One of my writer friends happened to mention that King has also written a book about writing. After reading that article, and the chapters posted on Amazon, I bought “On Writing” and am reading it with pleasure. Which is what Stephen King did for me.
King’s top 20 rules answer my current state perfectly: reminding me that writing a first draft is primarily for our own benefit, primarily for fun, and deserves some good quiet time away from distractions. It is when doing cuts, revisals and edits that the opinions of other people may enter the process, not when we are in the midst of our first creative enthusiasm. Hurray! Thank you, Stephen. Now I can let my enthusiasm run away with me, and just see where we can go with it. That kind of fun energy is such fun to have around.
My resolution and cheerfulness held well today, and we managed to finish all the audio recording of “Trapped” by four fifteen this afternoon. Hooray! On Monday, we do pickups, and edits, and that is about the end of this project, about which I have been preoccupied since January. Publication of book – tick! Narration of audio – tick! There is lots of new space in my head for doing some work, for writing, for resting and for getting in touch with friends.
Claire Montreuil, 1945
It is strange to reflect that the engineer, whom I will probably never meet again after close of business on Monday, knows so much about me, and I know only his name, that he drives a dark, diesel engine car, and lives in town. I have his business card in my pocket with his phone-number on it, and that is all.
I have had various names, each one marking a distinct period of years in my life. I am glad to have arrived at Fran Macilvey, and here I hope to stay. I am still getting used to it, though, and often forget that anyone who has read ‘Trapped’ will not need the usual context or explanations, even if I have only just met them. I would be interested to hear what other people feel about the experience of writing memoir, of sharing the highs and lows. Do you brush off the inequality in the information exchange, or does it leave you feeling unbalanced?
It is simply thrilling, having a writing career which seems set to unfold in gentle ripples around me. It seems quite astonishing that I, of all people, should be able to say, with truth as well as conviction, “I am a writer” and be able to point to some evidence of success in that line.
Ahead of publication in less than three weeks, I feel so happy, very excited, more than a little scared and plagued with self-doubt: The changeable moods that flood through me are disorientating, yet I rediscover every day the power of relaxing and letting go. I may as well relax, wait and see what happens after “Trapped” is published. In some ways, the hard bits have already been done, since writing my magnum opus has been rather like having an operation on my heart without the benefit of anaesthetic. I have to trust that it will all work out well.
The audio script for ‘Trapped’ is also more or less sorted, ready for reading, ready for whenever I am told the studio is ready for me. If I had a retentive kind of mind, I would have the text word-perfect by now, and could recite it without the script at all. The words and the sentiments, the voices, are as familiar to me as vanilla ice-cream; so of course I want to read it. But it is so very intimate, in parts, so very private, that I occasionally feel as if the whole world will witness my humiliation and my pain. Reading a paper book is usually a private affair, but if I am also speaking aloud, I feel as if I am handing myself and all my intimate secrets over on very public plate. Does that feel humiliating? Yes, occasionally, and I don’t know why.
I am aware that ‘exposure’ and ‘humiliation’ narratives are only one side of the coin, the other side perhaps etched with ‘candour’, ‘bravery’ or ‘sharing’. Nevertheless, from a place of relative calm, I observe a bewildering array of emotions, spilled like pins from a sewing box, which threaten to pierce my peace of mind at every hand and turn. Sometimes, caught unaware, it feels as if an unknown person is standing outside the room flicking the light switch on and off, on and off, just for fun. Should I get bereavement counselling for my poor old life?
What most readers may notice goes beyond the shame. Perhaps, reading aloud now will help me to have another period of coming to terms. I intend to give a reading to be proud of.
Darcy sat gazing out of the window, marvelling at the frosted snowflakes gently blowing out of the sky. Outside, the world was wrapped in a fresh mantle of clean, cold snow. Ensconced in the warmth of the café, gently cradling a piping hot mocha, she could dream of Jamie, savouring the taste of her double chocolate, almond and cranberry muffin with frosted pink rose scented glaze…..
I have read a lot of chic lit – that brand of rather uniquely sexist literature that fascionistas decry because they say it only appeals to the lazy instincts of womankind. Woman meets man, loses man, finds him again; or woman loses man, finds herself, finds a better man; we are prone to scoffing at such easy, soft options for reading, as if by not reading Proust, or the latest discoveries unearthed within the pages of ‘Archaeology Now’, we are letting down the side, betraying the freedoms for which our older sisters and mothers fought so hard.
But what if the lot of women is already hard? What if the first thing woman does when she rises at seven, is to put away the laundry, open the curtains and make the beds? What if, when she reaches the kitchen and is within hailing distance of her breakfast, the first thing she sees is the pile of unwashed dishes in the sink? There is not much room there, for escapism, and precious little to look forward to, unless, of course, she is that delightful fiction of mankind, the woman who enjoys cleaning and clearing, and finds daily menus a delightful challenge. Sometimes, I would like to feel like that, but mostly, I fail miserably.
There are times when our daily worries and preoccupations become a bit heavy, like a bit of homemade wholemeal (try saying that in a hurry) bread that stubbornly refuses to rise. There are times when futility stands her ground and mocks. And there are times when sheer loneliness can become a bit overpowering. Held down by such feelings, chic lit, gentle escapism, and happy fluffy dreams are a vital escape, allowing the mind to lift, and then find solutions, strength and new resolve. If Alice in her cupcake shop can tell the CEO of a large multi-national corporation that she is not interested in promotion, then I can find the steely resolve I need, too, to withstand long periods of soul destroying silence, failures in communication and the demands that everyone makes on my time.
And if I am thinking nice thoughts about cuddly people, there is just a chance that, in that gentle breathing space, creative solutions will have a chance to find me. Yes, I deserve to be creative, to dream and to have fun. If the best place for that is between the pages of a too-big book, then so be it.
March 4, 2015
Capability Scotland – The Great Scottish Book Off
Fran Macilvey books, Capability Scotland, interviews, Memoir, reading, The Great Scottish Book Off 'Trapped: My Life with Cerebral Palsy', Fran Macilvey 4 Comments
Capability Scotland – The Great Scottish Book Off
Tomorrow, on 5th March, which is designated as World Book Day 2015, Capability Scotland are launching their newest fundraising event, ‘The Great Scottish Book Off’, which will then run through the rest of March.
Family, friends, colleagues and neighbours are invited to get together and swap pre-read books. If there is a modest charge for admission, or a collection, the idea is to pass these funds to Capability, to further their work and projects in Scotland.
I am delighted that tomorrow morning, at 8.30, I am making a guest appearance on Radio Scotland, live from their Edinburgh Studio, to help publicise Capability’s campaign. I look forward to a friendly and candid interview. Later in the evening, at 18.30 – 19.30 I shall be giving a short talk and a reading from ‘Trapped’, as well as answering questions. If you can, please do come along to Blackwells, South Bridge, Edinburgh. It is going to be a great event.
My sincerest thanks to Capability for inviting me to be part of their event, and to Blackwells Bookstore, Edinburgh, for being so generous and accommodating.
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