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.
Seeing a poster advertising a local writing group, I emailed and I suggested myself as a guest speaker. Last night, I had been wondering if I should pop over to an earlier meeting to suss out the territory, hoping to make sure I know where I’m going and what I might expect. Solely with a view to making sure I don’t end up flat on my face or in the wrong place, you see.
This morning, I suspected that my motives might be misconstrued by the regulars. Might they conclude that I am looking for kudos or searching for compliments? It is possible. The last thing I want to do is to get in their way or cause any embarrassment.
I’m no more of an exhibitionist than the next writer is. But somewhere along the way I have had to take on a bit of reinvention, adapt. Shy wallflower with artistic dreams transmogrifies into marketing, networking and sales novice with a few tips up her sleeve. It may help that I am old – well, oldish – and I’ve had a life. I have reached the age where these silly adverts “are you fifty plus and looking for a way to reassure your loved ones when you die?” will very soon apply to me, and I reflect, “Well, I may be approaching that particular doorway, and I may well have already passed through most of the usual doors one expects to, but, really, I haven’t lived much, yet. Can we put off the appointment with the funeral directors for a couple of decades, please? Making the most of it, I hope to keep going.
I hope I’m one of these souls who are euphemistically referred to as “late starters” and that, when Life does finally start, I have a body which is still fit enough to enjoy finishing what I’ve started. Getting all the ducks in the row at the same time is a bit touch and go. But I am determined to do my best and the omens are very good. So here we go.
This article will only be useful to self-employed workers resident outside the USA (called “non-resident aliens”) who may find themselves dealing with US business concerns and/or earning money from affairs in the USA.
Perhaps you are a writer living and working in the Scotland, England or France, and you have just had the spectacular news that your book is to be published in America, or that your sales base is set to expand to the States. Congratulations.
It might be an idea to think about the tax situation. Businesses in the United States are required to deduct 30% for tax automatically, from every cent they send to overseas authors, unless that author has already obtained an ITIN, an Individual Tax Identification Number. Through a process of registration with the IRS, an ITIN then allows an American business concern to send a UK resident the whole amount of their fees and gains without keeping back 30%. The author then accounts and pays tax as they would for their other (domestic) income. So obtaining an ITIN is a very good idea.
Sorry. This sounds like a tax seminar, which was not the idea.
To obtain an ITIN, first go to the IRS website and print off the most up-to-date application form, which is called a W-7 form and complete it. Before sending it anywhere, remember to sign and date it. With the W-7 form, also send certified copy ID and a letter from the US business confirming the basics of the deal.
Based in Edinburgh, I am fortunate. I took my passport to the American consulate here, based near Calton Hill. They provided me with a formal copy of my passport ID page, which copy included an embossed seal and a signature. On returning home, I immediately put my passport back in its safe place and resisted all suggestions, however tempting, to send it to Austin.
I sent the original certified copy to the London Embassy at: Internal Revenue Service, 24 Grosvenor Square, London, W1K 6AH, along with the completed and signed W-7 and an original letter from my publisher. I took several good copies of both supporting documents so that, if the post got lost, I would not have to go back to the US Embassy or ask my publisher for another letter. (What? You forgot to take a copy?)(How embarrassing).
In my covering letter to London, I wish I had asked them to send the ORIGINAL certified copy of my passport on to Austin, Texas. As it was, someone in the London office returned the original certified copy to me and forwarded a bad photocopy to Austin. Six weeks later I got a letter which meant, “We need to see the original certified passport ID” though it took me four hours of telephone calls to confirm that.
For these purposes, a US Consulate is treated as equivalent to a department of the US government, and is not merely an “acceptance agency”. Therefore, no further proof is required, provided Austin see the original certified copy passport.
It is worth mentioning that while an ITIN covers all earnings in the US for five years, each separate transaction with a different company (for example, receiving an advance of royalties with a publisher, negotiating audio fees or appearance fees with other entities) requires you to complete a separate W-8BEN form. We keep hold of our ITIN papers, but we have to send off W-8BEN forms for each instance, and often, the US business will ask to see an original, inked copy of the form, which can be downloaded from the IRS website, but which may take two weeks to arrive in the US. If your fees are slow in coming, check whether accounts payable is still waiting for an original W-8BEN form, and send it asap.
I hope that is helpful. I apologise that this sounds a bit dry and formal. I am not a lawyer any more, but if anyone would like clarification, please just ask, and I will do my best to help.
Are memoirists selfish? Occasionally, after reading “Trapped: My Life With Cerebral Palsy” a reader may comment with a wistful sigh, that they don’t get to discover much about the other members of my family. Do they gaze quizzically into the middle distance and suppose they are dealing with a narcissist? Self-obsessed at least….the reflection may leave them wondering…
Memoirists don’t even have to claim to be accurate, for goodness’ sake! They can just bring a whole pile of memories to the table, and, so long as they are “what I experienced” they are allowed their own creative licence. No poring over volumes in the dusty halls of academe, no flights to far-flung Istanbul to track down long-lost relatives whom you recognise vaguely, but can scarcely speak to, as they stand before you patting your hand and remembering the way it used to be, before your grandmother left home….
There are indeed many other telling stories wrapped in with a memoir, waiting to be told. But the subject of a memoir has to wade into the past gently, finding a way through which leaves the bulk of other people’s recollections untouched, while benefiting from them enough to provide context, depth and explanations. I have no right to tell the story of anyone else’s life, and so I must leave other people’s life strands almost entire and alone, respecting the privacy of their memories, trials and tribulations and not using or abusing them to gain extra attention.
Deciding what to write about, and what to omit, has become, for me at least, an exercise in honest self-control; and if I aim for that, I will probably not go too far wrong. That is what I have always tried to do, at any rate, so that if anyone has an objection, I can at least be clear that I was doing my best to recount my story in my own way, with no other objective than to finally tell my truth. Not a bad aspiration, actually, for a day’s work.
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.
How proprietorial are we about what we have written? For me, the most fun part of writing is the first bit, when ideas are running away from me, down the page, sometimes so fast that my fingers slip off the keyboard while my thoughts are pushing ahead to catch up. The excitement of chasing down an idea and capturing it to the page is really the best part of the writer’s day. Having these ideas, and the words to work them into something, is what art and craft are all about. That first draft, the energetic outline, may be fleshed out very quickly. But we cannot leave it like that, can we? Having a good first working draft is one thing. But surely, the most difficult part of creativity – and a part of writing which I actually enjoy very much – is the discipline of re-reading, discarding and re-writing, sometimes agonising for hours or days over one sentence or turn of phrase. Every artist has pieces of their creativity littering their lives, the piles of which would very quickly become unmanageable without some sweeps of culling and clearing. I find that it is the process of tidying, of reinvention and re-writing that most taxes a writer’s courage. How often should we re-write, and what should we throw away? Anything that we know in our heart of hearts will not appeal as much to our readers as it does to us, will probably be heading to the recycle bin. Writing is not only about retrieving beautiful passages of prose and poetry from our souls. It also encompasses the benign destruction of our favourite passages, to allow the light to penetrate. But like a rosebush that is pruned hard to the ground and blossoms easily and wildly the following year, if we have faith in what we are writing and some patience to brew the final result carefully, that first taste of a good finished piece is surely worth the wait.
What a strange week it has been. Emotions all over the place, and feeling like a ship tossed on the high seas. The peaks and troughs of having a real job to go to; the agonies of intimacies and private sorrows spoken calmly into a microphone; the kindness of the engineer with his humour and support, his business-like attitude keeping us both on track. At the same time, very generous and lovely reviews for “Trapped” on Amazon UK and Amazon US are posted, which make me feel very emotional gratitude, for different reasons. For added spice there is also have the occasional disappointment from people I don’t even know, who cut off contact with me, for daring to critique their work.
Sorry, folks, but I have kinda got used to critiquing literary works, as politely as I know how, and am rather surprised, these days, to having my comments taken quite so seriously. Whatever I offer is only my opinion, and I am quite happy for people to disagree with me, without feeling the need to go for the full excision. Can we not agree to disagree and remain friendly? Not always, apparently. In the same batch of emails, comforting and lovely news far outweighs the dubious, so after a few careful deletions, I think we can all get on with our lives. It has been a very strange week.
In the mixter-maxter, I feel a lot of thankfulness, too, lately. I am so pleased and thankful to anyone who posts helpful comments, adds lovely reviews and sends supportive love. It means the world to me. Check out these lovely reviews, and add your own.
My big red writing hoodie is actually a fleece. I had a fleece I used to wear when I started writing Trapped, because I used to get emotional, and cold, and shivery. Perhaps it had something to do with beginning work on the first draft in the depths of January, when the light was improving, but the ground was still icy and hard. I got accustomed to wearing this garment like a security blanket, every time I was writing at my computer.
Over time, I must have written out so much sorrow, grief pouring onto the page like thick treacle: coming to terms with all the rubbish that I have tolerated, the negative emotions, expectations and ideas that have clouded my lens over the years, and have spoiled my life correspondingly. I was probably in mourning, too, for all the time I wasted being unhappy. Unhappy about being unhappy….what a waste of time.
Last week, I zipped up this jacket crossly, thinking to burrow down for safety and feel insulated from my latest bout of existential uncertainty. Perhaps all writers have them, and they are a pain. But, feeling strangely dislocated, I found myself simply getting crosser, more angry over nothing. “Unusual” I was reflecting, “How odd, I don’t understand this…why am I behaving like a total idiot?” It was like being both Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.
An answer landed in my lap. My jacket, which had held me securely through a great many traumas, was suffering from ptsd for clothes. Perhaps it had absorbed all that anger, sorrow and incredulity, which I was then dishing out. Either it was full of bad memories and emotions, clogged up with negative feelings; or else the association of that jacket with unhappiness was very strong. Either way, my fleece had to go. I had to throw it out, which I did immediately. I felt much better afterwards!
Arthur Rackham – Little Red Riding Hood
In my wardrobe there may be other clothes I should release, because wearing them makes me unhappy. It is not simply that they are old fashioned, tired or frumpy, but also that they may carry vibes that I would rather not hang on to. Which may be the best reason to spring-clean my wardrobe that I have ever come across.
Now the outer waterproof, for which the fleece was the lining, is my only coat. Perhaps I should think of purchasing another: Blue, maybe, with a zip and useful pockets for house keys and hankies. And lots of cheerful memories to store in its fibres.
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?
Just when I reach one of my lowest ebbs, there come two pictures of daffodils posted on Facebook by a lovely friend. I gaze at these and determine that what I most need is not courage or resignation, but discipline. And so decided, I don my scarf and coat and go outside for all of ten minutes in search of elusive daffodils nearby. It is windy and cold, a blast of spring air. As I gaze up into the sullen, darkening sky which mirrors my mood so neatly, I realise, This is not about me. I must not be selfish.
In writing my book, “Trapped: My Life With Cerebral Palsy” and now in narrating it for the audio book, I have at last accepted fully that, regardless of how humiliated I may feel, there is more at stake here, than my privacy or my sense of personal dignity. Other people are working hard for me, it is true, and many of them do so for little tangible reward. But the picture is bigger than this. I can read, and write, and I have a wonderful life. I have freedom to move and the space to express my preferences. I know that, most days, I do not do enough with that freedom, but at least I can move away from here. I have always known that, in life, it is having options that matters most.
There are millions of people in the world who suffer in silence, who endure cruelty, exclusion and neglect, and who have no-one to speak for them: millions of children who are misdiagnosed, misunderstood, pigeonholed, forgotten and overlooked: millions of adults who can do nothing about the places they find themselves in. As I write in my book,
“How many others with issues like mine are languishing in the shadows of institutional ignorance because their families listen politely to advice which owes more to prejudice and speculation than to hard facts or compassion? If it wasn’t for my mother’s decision so often to disagree, to go it alone, I would be in a “home,” possibly dead, having led only a teeny little bit of a life. No one would have known anything about me, or uncovered the thoughts lurking behind my eyes. The smallness of my life would have remained a hidden loss, overlooked, as the lives of so many disabled adults are overlooked.”
If my book can strike a blow for freedom of conscience, self-expression, human dignity and compassion, then the small terrors I have to endure are well worth the price. God will give me the strength to do as I must. And, with that faith, together we can all join and create miracles. I do so hope you agree.
June 18, 2014
Frances Kay
Fran Macilvey change, choices, Frances Kay, publication, reading, review, stories, truth, work, writer, writing Books I Have Reviewed, Interviews With Authors 9 Comments
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.
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