Sunday 24 July 2016

Mark Billingham interviews Linwood Barclay at the Theakston Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival.


Mark Billingham introduced Linwood Barclay as one of the nicest guys you could ever hope to meet (and a man with a passion for trainsets). He was born in America, but moved to Canada with his parents at the age of four and has been living there ever since. He sets his books- about ordinary people caught up in extraordinary events- in America. There was some banter about Canadians being boring and Barclay, clearly used to this, made certain to get his jokes in first: `If they were set in Canada, after they’d killed you, they’d say, ``I’m so sorry!’’’ And then, `How do you get 20 Canadians out of your swimming pool?... Please get out of the pool!’

At 16 Barclay’s dad died and he found himself looking after his mum, his older brother, who has schizophrenia, and the lakeside resort cottages and trailer park his dad had invested in after his career went down the swanny. (He’d been a talented automobile illustrator for ads, until photographs came to be used instead.) For this reason Barclay had to go to uni within commuting distance, so he could continue to clean and fix the toilets and bury fish guts.

When he graduated, he thought he could write a bestseller (didn’t we all!). After he’d received lots of rejections, he decided to go into journalism, working initially for a local paper. He finally ended his 30 year newspaper career writing a humorous column for the Toronto Star.

As a teenager he’d discovered Ross Macdonald (the pen name of Kenneth Millar, the American-Canadian writer of fiction and a great favourite of my own mum’s; I grew up seeing her curled in a wing chair reading his thrillers, while crunching on Granny Smiths dipped in salt).

Barclay wrote to him c/o his publishers, saying he wanted to write about him for his dissertation and asking what had been written about him before. Macdonald got in contact and Barclay told him he’d written a book and asked whether Macdonald would critique it, which, amazingly, he did, and they remained in contact. Later Macdonald said he was going to be in Barclay’s home town and asked whether he would like to meet up. Barclay spent one of the best evenings of his life at the age of 21 having dinner and hanging out with Macdonald and his wife. He remembers him as a very generous man who wrote in one of his books: `For Linwood, who will some day, I hope, outrank me.’

Barclay wrote 4 comic thrillers, which, although published, didn’t do very well (`Sold 72 copies’ was his dry comment) because, as he said, humour undercuts suspense. Even now, he said, he has to reign himself in, although, as Mark Billingham- who was once a stand-up- pointed out, you do need humour in thrillers, but largely in the dialogue.


Barclay spoke of his wonderful agent (that would be nice!) who’d kept faith with him while he tried to come up with better ideas for thrillers. And then one day he woke up at 5am and had the idea for `No Time for Goodbye’- a stroppy 14 year old girl wakes up to find her whole family has disappeared overnight. Are they all dead or have they just abandoned her? When he phoned his agent, she said, `That’s it! So what happened to them?’ `How the hell should I know?’ he responded. `I haven’t written it yet!’

This was a life-changing book, the fastest selling Richard and Judy book ever. And then, he said, comes expectation. What next? His books have a shifting cast of characters, `regular’ people, like the ones he knows in real life: teachers, contractors, car salesmen. These people’s families are threatened and that’s why they can’t just run away from danger.

He wrote a novel a year for 7 years, then he pushed himself to write a trilogy and managed all three in 15 months. Now, he says, he can `sit on his butt’ for a bit, but I got the impression this was unlikely, since his first YA book (for 9-13 year olds, think Bourne Identity, but it’s a dog), out next year, is finished and he’s already had a good idea for a final book set in the fictional town of Promise Falls.

When he’s not writing or sneaking downstairs for coffee and an Oreo or admiring his basement trainsets, he reads favourite writers like Stephen King or Richard Russo. He tries to write a better book each time, has scribbled notes and maps at his desk, but no spread sheets or white boards. Mark Billingham interjected to say that the only thing written on his own white board was `Get Dressed!’

Barclay said his favourite book is probably `Trust your Eyes’, about a man who is obsessed with a fictional equivalent of Google Maps and spots a dead body. In 2012 it was the object of a film rights bidding war between Universal and Warner Bros, but then `It died- there’s Hollywood for you.’

At the close of the interview the talk turned inevitably to politics. Barclay said, `Trump is beyond fiction, beyond even science fiction.’ Why does he like/need to write every day? `At least in a fictional world there is justice.’

Friday 24 June 2016

Two Rejections, but the Best so far!

This week has seen both the agents who asked for the full MS reject it. I felt very disappointed and despondent at first, but now I've managed to see how very close I am, which increases the frustration, but also the determination to go that extra mile- or maybe it's only a kilometre by now.

The first said: `I'm afraid the news isn't as good as it could be, and HER SILENT THROAT isn't something for us.  I hope all this means is that we are the wrong advocates for it and that you are about to be snapped up by another.

At your level there is usually a happy ending and I do like hearing them, so will you let me know?

Good luck, and thank you so much for letting us read the whole thing and for your patience.

With all my good wishes'

I felt very childish at first- why isn't it something for you, why did you ask for the full MS- surely you could tell after the first three chapters? I was stamping my (not so little) foot! And then I thought, just focus on `At your level there is usually a happy ending'. When has anyone ever said anything quite so hopeful?

The second agent said: `Thank you for sending me your mss which I enjoyed reading. However I don't feel able to offer representation for the novel in its current form. It has a very strong idea and writing but the issue for me is how Mags' muteness is treated which doesn't ring true for me. Also while it jumps into the story well enough, there isn't a strong enough sense of setting or of character motivation to really make me invest emotionally in the protagonist and her story. However another agent may feel differently. If you do not find representation this time round and decide to do some more work on it, I would be very interested in seeing another draft.

All best wishes'

I don't quite understand what all the comments mean, particularly the one about the treatment of her mutism- is it how other people treat her or how I present her mutism  per se? There seems to be quite a lot to fix, but upon reading the comments for the third or thirteenth time, it's clear the door has definitely been left ajar. Now all that's left is the hard work. And I've never minded that.




Monday 13 June 2016

Encouragement from an Editor

As I wait to see whether either of the two agents who've asked for the full manuscript wants to take me on- agonisingly, one is away until June 20th and can't look at it until then- I was much cheered by receiving the nicest possible email from Katy Loftus of Penguin Random House. I ran into her at a First Monday Crime night and she'd said she loved the concept of my book and the fact that I was a therapist and therefore knew my stuff. She gave me her card and asked to `take a peek'. It's so rare for a busy editor to devote any time at all to looking at unsolicited material that I think she deserves a big shout-out! This is what she said:

`Hi Amanda
 
I have read all of this now (sorry for the delay)! I am really grateful to you for sharing it with me, and I think you’ve got a great concept and writing style. I can see a lot of potential.
 
I’m afraid I’ve decided that despite that I can’t take it on, but there’s honestly nothing that I didn’t like about it, so please don’t take my email as any form of criticism. It’s just that I am publishing a lot of thrillers over the next two years and I basically don’t have room for more when they’re all in a similar vein. I am really sorry.
 
I am really pleased that you’ve had two call-ins, and I hope that at least one of them bears fruit! Wishing you all the best of luck,
 
Katy x
 
Here's hoping!
 
 
 
 

Wednesday 8 June 2016

Harrogate Crime Writing Festival, Stephen King and Progress

Stephen King suggests that you should have an ideal reader, IR, in mind when you write. I use my husband, who can be even more impatient than me as a reader. As King says, is your IR going to feel `there's too much pointless talk' in this place or that, that you've `underexplained a certain situation' or overexplained it? I think I'm guilty of both. I know the plot so well, when a reader challenges something, I think: isn't it obvious? Well, no, it's not. As for overexplanation, I just have to imagine my husband wrinkling his nose and saying, `I get it, already!' The IR will also help you if you've forgotten to `resolve some important plot point'. (He cites Raymond Chandler who was once asked about the murdered chauffeur in The Big Sleep  and allegedly said, `Oh him. You know, I forgot all about him.')

An important way to increase the pace of your book is to be quite severe with cutting (`kill your darlings'). He says he got a note from an editor back in his senior year at High School, who said: `Not bad but PUFFY. You need to revise for length. Formula: 2nd draft=1st draft - 10%. Good luck.'

Thanks to a combination of studying Stephen King, attending talks and workshops and meeting up with fellow writers to discuss extracts of our manuscripts, I have just had two agents ask to see my full manuscript. I immediately felt the need to go through it one last time and delete all the adverbs, the over explanations and excessive descriptions and `stage directions'. I averaged 5 pages an hour so it took a while, but I finally managed to cut another 6,000 words (though not 10%, as the total is now 114,000).

As a reward for my progress so far, I'm taking myself off to the Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival in July with a great series of talks such as `Domestic Suspense- The Killer Behind the Front Door' and lots of my favourite crime writers like Val McDermid, Peter James and Mark Billingham. I've also signed up for the Creative Thursday workshops, including the scary 2 minute Dragon's Den style pitch!

Watch this space.



Friday 20 May 2016

Stephen King, Sartre, John Wordsworth, Danielle Zigner and Me




As I return to my thriller and implement all the changes I’ve realised are necessary over the past months, I am having a read of the final 100 pages of Stephen King’s wonderful book, `On Writing'. Here are this week’s gems:

He reminds us that every book worth reading is about `something’. Perhaps my weakness (or one of them) is that it isn’t sufficiently clear what my own something is or rather there have been too many somethings. He says that the job of the second draft is to make that something `even more clear’, which may  require lots of changes and revisions.
Writing about his own struggles with plot he adds: `If there is any one thing I love about writing more than the rest, it’s that sudden flash of insight when you see how everything connects. I have heard it called ``thinking above the curve’’ and it’s that; I’ve heard it called the ``over-logic’’ and it’s that too.’
I had this moment after my session with Danielle Zigner of LBA, when she wanted there to be a connection between the two `bad’ guys, otherwise it would be too much of a coincidence that they both appeared in the protagonist’s life at the same time. My initial instinct had been correct, because I’d made them half brothers in an earlier draft, but then they’d evolved away from one another and one had taken a more prominent role. I’ve now found a much better way to link them than through blood. And I felt a shiver of excitement when I understood how that would work and how much stronger the plot would be as a result.

King adds a word of warning that `starting with the questions and thematic concerns is a recipe for bad fiction’. Good fiction begins with the story and then progresses to the theme. I remember when I was studying Sartre at uni, a constant theme was whether he was a better philosopher than writer. Did his philosophy impact negatively on his writing in terms of having fully rounded characters, rather than ciphers?

King talks about how long you should let your manuscript rest after your first draft (or, I should add, when you think you’ve finally finished it). He advises at least six weeks. I received the same piece of invaluable advice from John Wordsworth of Zeno Agency after having a one to one with him at the York Festival of Writing last September. The two other agents I met showed undiluted enthusiasm for my writing and were pushing to see the whole manuscript as soon as possible, even suggested publishers who might love it as much as they did. They promised to get back to me as soon as possible after the Frankfurt book fair, pinged off immediate responses with kisses and followed me on Twitter! I then never heard from them again, even after a cautious `chase' in November. 
John said: `
But when you've taken it as far as you can - even if that means getting feedback from beta readers, or sticking it in a drawer for a month and rereading with fresh eyes - I'd love to see it. But don't rush it for my sake.'
I should have realised that he was the one genuine person of the three! Instead, I sent it to him far too soon.
King says that for him `the most glaring errors’ on this re-read after the 6 week `rest' are to do with character motivation and I certainly think that’s true of my own manuscript. Most of all he’s looking for what he meant, `because in the second draft I’ll want to add scenes and incidents that reinforce that meaning. I’ll also want to delete stuff that goes in other directions.’
Going back to what John Wordsworth also advised, King shows his manuscript- when it's gone through the second draft- to six or eight people whose opinion he respects. In baseball, he says, `tie goes to the runner; for novelists, it goes to the writer! If some people love your ending and others hate it, same deal- it’s a wash, and tie goes to the writer.’ And that's why writing groups and friends who love to read are invaluable.



Wednesday 11 May 2016

First Monday Crime Part Two

The remaining two panellists on Monday night were William Shaw and Jack Grimwood.

William Shaw has been described as a `gonzo journalist' who's spent time hanging out with neo Nazis and Scientologists. He also wrote a column for the Observer about the fascinating world of the Small Ads, which I remember being addicted to, especially the weird characters he came across, including a man who collected handcuffs.

He is the author of the much loved Breen and Tozer series, set in London in 1968-9, which he will return to. In the meantime, he's recently written `The Birdwatcher', a standalone novel, set in Dungeness (`The Clapham Junction for birds'). It concerns a police Sergeant, William South, who is a murderer himself and therefore doesn't wish to `detect', until a friend and fellow birdwatcher is murdered.

Shaw took the detective's back story from something he wrote years earlier about a 13 year old boy in Northern Ireland. The Troubles have brought a knowledge that life can be short and crimes often remain unsolved, which changes how you view the world. Shaw's own family originally came from there, but given the political situation, it was not a good time to visit while he was growing up, so a big part of his family in Northern Ireland have largely remained imagined. As a therapist I found it interesting that he denied the significance of naming his (murderous) protagonist William, citing it as a name that's been in his own family for generations...

It's very different setting a novel in a small place like Dungeness, rather than London, but he's been praised for his `superb description of a haunting, blighted landscape.' He's even annoyed readers because he didn't mention the Light Railway! When he started writing, he didn't know much about bird watching, but he was careful to check he had all his facts right with local birdwatchers and clearly admires and respects their wealth of knowledge. 

Jack Grimwood has previously written Sci Fi and Fantasy, but his debut thriller is `Moskva' with Major Tom Fox, set in the 80's with the Cold War starting to thaw. There is a serial killer on the loose and  the Ambassador's daughter goes missing. Grimwood claimed to not yet quite know who Tom Fox is. In a Sitcom people never learn and that's what makes it funny, whereas in crime fiction lots of changes are possible- people divorce, are bereaved, go bankrupt...

He began writing the book simply with the image in his head of a child in the snow standing in front of the Kremlin. Fox is often drunk- though practically teetotal by Moscow standards- and his best friend is a one legged helicopter pilot who's fought in Afghanistan.

He said he admired a place where people will queue round the block for a new book of poetry and also made a few jokes about the KGB: half are now running the country and the other half are running the Mafia. He was fascinated by the idea back in the Cold War that there were no criminals in the USSR as this was a degenerate Western concept.

When talking about research, he related a story about once writing to the SFPD, saying he was an English novelist and could he come and talk to them. He was invited for a Ride-along and even ended up with a complete set of an Officer's notes and reports for that day's crime, which included a person's credit card details. It's a good thing he only writes about crime!

The discussion ended with the fascinating question about who is the monster in a particular crime novel and who does the author think it is? There is a need to empathise with all the characters, good and bad, as heroes can be dull.

As I reached the Tube later, I read the thought for the day on the noticeboard, which seemed particularly apt: `Tough times don't last, but tough people do.'







Our lovely goodie bag

Tuesday 10 May 2016

Monday First Crime with Chris Fowler, Jack Grimwood, William Shaw & Sarah Hilary, Part 1

Last night I attended the second First Monday Crime night at City University. They were anticipating a larger turnout than last time, so we were in a bigger, lighter room. I followed the paper signs up the stairs, twisting and turning along various corridors- like a treasure hunt.

It was too muggy an evening to drink the proffered wine, when I reached the X-marks-the-spot, so I gulped down a massive tumbler of water and watched everyone arriving, with lots of kissing and waving. I felt less at ease than last time, as neither of the people either side of me spoke, except to get help with the WiFi.

The panel of 4 writers: Chris Fowler, Sarah Hilary, William Shaw and Jack Grimwood were introduced by the journalist, Jake Kerridge, who did an admirable job of interviewing them. The tone was quite different from last time. This was a serious discussion rather than the levity of last month's event. They all seemed to be seasoned panellists, confident and articulate.

I will cover the first two writers in this blog and the second two in my next, as it seems a lot of ground was covered!

Sarah Hilary's debut novel, `Someone Else's Skin', was a Richard and Judy Book Club bestseller and won the Theakston's Old Peculiar Crime Novel of the year 2015, an unusual and particularly admirable feat for a debut novelist. She's currently working on her 4th in the series featuring DI Marnie Rome. `Tastes Like Fear' has just come out- strange happenings around the urban wastelands by the river and disappearing, homeless girls.

Her DI is a compassionate figure with her own tragic past and her own demons. Sarah Hilary doesn't like the trope of the alcoholic, divorced cop who lives in a caravan- her DI forces herself to live in the real world. (Although Hilary does like the word `trope'). When you're writing a series, the character has to grow- she feels her DI is becoming stronger, yet softer. She said she's deliberately parsimonious in revealing details about the DI's childhood, so she doesn't later write herself into a corner.

She no longer lives in London, but fortunately came up to town and took a look at Battersea Power station, which she'd seen in her mind's eye as it used to be, `an urban cathedral', dominating the landscape. Now it's been `hobbled', closed off to the public and the rebuilt towers will become penthouse apartments (Sting has bought one!). She spoke eloquently about London being all layers, from these glass penthouses right down to the many Saxon finds, when developers start digging the foundations for a new building. London changes all the time, so she feels she has licence to change things and create a London partly from her own imagination.

She was inspired by the Gorilla Experiment (Google it, you'll be amazed!) which shows how much we miss about what goes on around us- and yet we have little idea that we're missing so much. I guess that's where the phrase, hidden in plain view, comes from.

The second writer, Chris Fowler, has written more than 40 books and has been described as an `unashamed anorak'. A Guardian reviewer once wrote that he would make a good serial killer. He was tanned and muscled, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist and definitely looked as if he could do some damage down a dark alley! He said: `Don't ever say to a writer, do you write Cosies?' I felt I'd be very unlikely to ask him anything contentious, at all, although last night he was very much the affable gentleman that I'm sure he is.

His series of detective fiction (maybe 15 or so and counting), feature `golden age detectives in a modern world'. Detectives Bryant and May, from the Peculiar Crimes Unit, are based on a unit his dad worked on in WW2. He's interested in `bumbling' characters who can screw up a lot, who don't have all the answers. But definitely not cosy.

He works a great deal from local police notebooks. Apparently, someone gave him all their notebooks upon retirement, dating from the Seventies to the present. What a treasure trove! She was a very forthright police officer, apparently, who wrote about liking the ammonia smell of the pigeon shit on the roof, when watching a crackhouse overnight, as it cleared her bronchitis.

His picture of the city is partly shaped by what he's read about London and he's a big fan of Marjory Allingham and also recommended `King Dido', by Alexander Baron.

He has his own website and writes daily blogs. I took this from his website, which is really helpful as a brief overview:

`Whats your advice for first time writers?

Fiction means you can make stuff up.
Dont be ashamed of embarrassing yourself.
Romances need a moral dilemma.
Remember its fiction, not biography.
Ask yourself what the hero wants.
Think the unthinkable.
When you think it cant go further, go further.
Characters need to grow, and not repeat themselves.
Choice is a dilemma between irreconcilable goods or the lesser of two evils.
You dont always need to explain why people do things.
Crisis moments are better when theyre completely static.
Leave room for characters to breathe.
You have to love your hero.
Dialogue is not conversation.
Its better to do than to describe.
Believe what you write.
You dont have to write from experience.
Make sure that something always remains unknowable.'


I walked out into the night after the evening and felt inspired to look up as I walked along, something we so rarely do in this beloved ever-changing city:

Friday 6 May 2016

Beat the Rejection Clinic with Agent, Danielle Zigner




I recently made the decision to invest £225 of my hard earned therapy money on a half hour `Beat the Rejection’ clinic through the Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook. There was a handful of agents who were offering these slots at the Bloomsbury offices in Bedford Square. I picked Danielle Zigner, a junior agent at LBA, as it mentioned in her profile that she was interested in psychological thrillers with a unique hook.

It was a warm day and I arrived early. I pictured myself sitting on one of the benches in the lush gardens of the square, but it was locked- for Residents and keyholders only. Instead, I walked around the Georgian square, with its beautifully preserved Grade 1 listed buildings, fantasising about a different life.

With 15 minutes to spare I was buzzed into Reception at the Bloomsbury offices and sat admiring the intricately moulded ceiling and the new Harry Potter editions on display. Silent young women with long legs and swinging hair moved swiftly through the doors at one end, while clusters of men in dark suits ushered each other along, talking in hushed tones, as if this were a library. I had a Visitor’s pass which would only clip on back to front. I was anonymised.

Danielle arrived, looking exactly like her profile picture, so I introduced myself and we chatted about the sun, Harry Potter- she’s a big fan- and her own nearby, rather more cramped offices in an old townhouse.

She was collected ahead of me and when I was fetched, I followed a young man down into a basement warren of corridors and tiny offices, moving- I surmised- into the adjoining buildings. I was asked not to push the table at which Danielle was sitting, as it had been found propped against the wall and was very unstable. A little how I was feeling. We both had several glasses of water, for which I was grateful- it was very stuffy in these nether regions. We were definitely in the servants’ quarters.

Danielle had prepared well and immediately handed me a revised submission letter. She said that the next day she had 200 submissions to get through and a letter of my length was not going to get read (it was just over one A4 double-spaced page), which meant my chapters might not even get considered. She added that there was no point in telling me why I’d picked her, as everyone said the same thing. All she wanted to know was the genre, the length, the pitch and any relevant courses (only selective ones) or publications. She said I should also mention that I’m a therapist because that gives me credibility. 

She didn’t like the fact that my book is 120,00 words and said I should cut it down to 100,000, which is quite substantial editing, but I wasn’t there to argue or defend myself.

She told me my synopsis was well written, but it posed a number of questions about the plot, particularly concerning the characters’ motivation. She asked good questions and made strong points about the links between characters, which made me feel she knew what she was talking about.

I agreed with most of her observations, although I struggled with her saying my protagonist, Rebecca, is too naïve and self-deprecating. I need to make her more likable. I like my protagonist and yes, she is naïve and self-deprecating, but she’s only 22 and can’t speak, which doesn’t do a whole lot for your self-confidence, I imagine.

Danielle said that psychological thrillers weren’t really her thing- or rather, she’s yet to find one she likes- she’s more into YA, science fiction and fantasy. However, she did say I should send it to her once I’ve made my revisions.

I can see I have a lot of work to do, but I still think it’s worth the effort. I owe it to Rebecca.

Friday 22 April 2016

London Writer's Club Live with Hattie Grunewald of Blake Friedmann



On Tuesday night I thought I'd try out The London Writers' Club live event at a fabulous space called The Cube on Commercial St (right next to Hawksmoor, so I was tempted to drop in for a Dutch-courage cocktail en route). I first came across The Cube, when a writing friend bought me a `retreat' Sunday as a birthday present, so I could go along and have a creative day without distractions- apart from fellow writers plugging in their laptops and clicking away demonically or chatting/bragging over the sandwich lunch and in the kitchenette, stocked with distracting biscuits.


There were about 20 people who turned up to listen to Hattie Grunewald from Blake Friedmann talk about the submissions process and the agency- a good mix of young and older men and women. I'd arrived early at the venue, so I popped into the Costa opposite and enjoyed a 100 per cent success rate spotting the earnest looking, casually dressed, middle-aged women on their own, waiting to head across the road. 


The London Writer's Club is run by Jacq Burns and Kirsty McLachlan. Jacq agents non-fiction and runs writing retreats and workshops and has written `Write A Bestseller`, a copy of which I received with my ticket. Kirsty is an agent at David Godwin Associates Ltd. (Disappointingly, their website isn't very user friendly and when I emailed them via their form to say I was unable to book a one day course they were offering- the button didn't work- I never heard back.)
 

Hattie herself was a delight. She talked a little about Blake Friedmann, a medium sized agency that prides itself in investing in the lifetime careers of its authors. Hattie herself has been assisting the formidable Carole Blake (`either the nicest of the tough agents or the toughest of the nice agents'), but is now accepting submissions in her own right. She likes women's fiction, crime fiction (but not the hardline male cop kind) and is particularly interested in psychological thrillers with strong female characters. She also mentioned that she likes young fiction. Someone asked what this meant and she explained that this was fiction that a 20 year old might pick up who generally didn't read a great deal- she therefore especially likes protagonists in their twenties. She extolled Kerry Hudson's `Thirst' in this category.


With submissions she explained that for her it's all about falling in love with the writer's voice. She puts all submissions into a submissions' folder which she then looks at on a Friday afternoon. She was refreshingly honest about the process. The first thing she looks at is the letter and if she doesn't like the `concept', she often doesn't get beyond that. She said it helps if you can show that you can take editorial feedback, so if you've had a book report done or have a detailed response from another agent, which has led you to make changes, then do mention it.


If she does like the concept, then she looks at the chapters next and usually judges them by the first couple of pages. It's only if she's been prompted to read the whole submission that she will look at the synopsis, just to see where it's going and if there's an interesting twist. I've not met a writer yet who liked their own synopsis, so it was a big relief to know it's not the first thing read. She did say she liked short, clear sentences in a synopsis and the Blake Friedmann guideline of 300 words was definitely too brief.


She said she makes a decision on the spot whether she wants to read any further and aims to respond within three weeks. Given the length of time most agents take to respond- if they deign to respond at all- this was certainly music to everyone's ears. She is happy to get involved in the editing process and said that sometimes a whole structural edit is also needed.
 

Lastly, don't submit in March, April, September or October because of London and Frankfurt, as agents are either busy preparing or recovering from the Fairs. Don't try and write to a trend, as these are always changing and of course there's a year's lag time between successful pitch and publication. The Buyer's Guide is a good magazine to look at, as it shows what's being published and how each book is described- hundreds of mini pitches to learn from!




Friday 15 April 2016

The Write Stuff at The London Book Fair




Yesterday I arrived for 'The Write Stuff' session at LBF16 with plenty of time to spare, which was fortunate, as the signs for Author HQ were misleading, telling me to go up the stairs, when the only stairs led down. I felt a bit like the white rabbit in 'Alice in Wonderland', darting along between the stalls, looking at my watch and muttering to myself.



I arrived at an area of pink wooden bench seats, padded with white plastic cushions (quite in keeping with `Alice in Wonderland') and managed to find myself a perch, before it became standing-room only (which, for nearly 2 hours wouldn’t have been great). The event was sponsored by Kindle Direct Publishing, which I found a little odd, since it was all about pitching to agents. Maybe we were all supposed to take away Despair from the event.



I sat next to a woman who’d written a book about dating. She said it was packed full of tips and handy hints, based on her own experience, but since she referred to her partner’s several children and, as a therapist, I’ve heard all about the perils and pitfalls of being a `step mum’, I wondered whether there might perhaps be better advice available elsewhere. She left halfway through.



The event was introduced as `The Voice’ meets `Dragon’s Den’. Six authors who’d been shortlisted from the hundred or more who’d sent in their synopses and `I should be picked because’ 500 words were going to get a chance to pitch for 3 minutes exactly (there was a harsh buzzer) to 3 agents who would then each have 3 minutes to respond. The agents had read 3 chapters from each of the selected books in advance.



The first person we were introduced to was Sanjeev, who won last year. He said he’d been apprehensive, but it had all been very `cordial’. He’d appreciated all the constructive criticism and it had been like `a dream come true’, as he’d come away with two offers of representation. His advice to the six contestants was `Proudly present your creation’ and `Don’t look at the audience!’



He said he could be lazy and he’d had the idea for the novel for 10 years, but it was only because he’d had knee surgery that he’d had the time and motivation to write the first chapters from his bed two months before the competition. His novel is called `The Insignificance of Good Intentions’ (which I decided was either brilliant or ridiculous), a first person account of a journalist in India, dealing with caste and politics, prison and romance. He referred to the agent he’d picked as Toby (better Google that one, I thought, how many Toby agents can there be? Toby Mundy? Toby Eady?) Sanjeev said he was in touch with Toby every couple of months and relied on him as an `industry insider’. He intends to finish the first draft by the end of July. Wow, I thought, does this guy have any idea how lucky he is? A dream come true indeed.

We were then introduced to the three agents: Ella Kahn, from DKW, who’s just won the LBF Trailblazer Award; Sheila Crowley from Curtis Brown, who likes stories that make her cry and Tim Bates from PFD, who covers cookery, celebrity memoirs and commercial fiction. (I looked him up on the way home and Pollinger aren’t accepting any unsolicited submissions right now, plus he’s not on Twitter- so what, perhaps).
First up was Karen, whose hand understandably shook as she held the microphone. She’d written a YA thriller, `Off The Rails’, about murder, arson and stealing a kiss, dealing with a myriad of topics, including self-harm and cyber-bullying.
Tim liked the different layers, but only represents one YA author. He found it slightly breathless and told her to make the writing more elegant. Ella, who does do YA, agreed, but liked the strong characterisation. She felt that the pitch should have had more focus on what actually happens. Sheila loved the premise, but suggested making the opening calmer and deciding what would make the reader `jump in’ and relate to the characters. She recommended her ex assistant, Rebecca Ritchie, who is `brilliant’ at YA.
Next came Tony, who has written ‘The Blog of Samuel Pepys’. Pepys finds himself stuck in 2016 and spends his time getting into hilarious scrapes, such as cruising churches for pick up opportunities. Tony felt this would be very popular as a gift book.
Ella said this was not a genre for her, although she enjoyed the concept. She wondered, (as did I) why Pepys found himself in 2016 and why his wife was coping better. Sheila felt humour was difficult to sell and to publish. Tim found it `huge fun’, but felt it needed a `narrative context’.
Susannah had written a `creative biography’ of Maude West who ran a detective agency in the Twenties and Thirties and was a Queen of PR, creating a false persona for herself- in reality she was the illegitimate daughter of a servant girl and had 6 kids.
Tim said it was a brilliant idea for a book, but felt it needed to be a more sober work. Ella was interested and intrigued, but was confused as to whether it was a novelisation or a biography. Sheila is a big fan of detectives, but felt it wasn’t for her.
Dave decided to do his pitch as a screen presentation, which crashed a few times (much to my secret delight). He was a pilot who has written `Infiltration’, a cold war aviation thriller.
Sheila said she wasn’t the right agent, as this was a man’s world. Ella felt the pitch was impressive, but she would be wary of taking on a previously self-published author and she knew nothing about planes. Tim wondered why he wanted to move to traditional publishing and  suggested it was too detailed and could be cut by a third. Ouch!
Nathalie has written `Not my Soldier’ about collateral damage far from the front line. She herself has worked in conflict zones, seemed eloquent, engaging and humble. Even before the agents responded, I felt she was the best so far.
Ella loved her prose and wanted to read more, Sheila said, `You’re amazing’. She said she `got the tickle at the back of her neck’, when she read it, which happened once every three years, at most. This turned me a little green. (She read an early draft of my psychological thriller and said it was too intellectual for her and recommended a fellow agent, who loved my writing and the protagonist, but wasn’t convinced by the plot. No tickle for me). Tim said Nathalie was a very strong writer, but he found the smaller chapters a bit `arch’.
Finally John pitched his novel, `The Dreaming Mechanicals’, which is the story of a videographer who answers an ad and films the final tour of the eponymous mechanicals. Tim said he wrote beautifully but wasn’t sure what the book was about or what the market might be. Ella liked the writing and his sense of humour, but wondered again where it might `sit’. Sheila liked the narrative voice, but again found it hard to position commercially.
Needless to say, Nathalie won and picked Sheila to represent her. She got a bottle of champagne, a framed certificate and her photograph with everyone, including the now 80 something year old bookseller whom she’d first worked for aged 13. She was obviously a precocious child, as she’d told him he wasn’t to close down till she had her own book in the window. Not long to go now then.
 







Tuesday 5 April 2016

First Monday Crime- Last Night

Last night I made my way- nervously- to the inaugural meeting of First Monday Crime, a new monthly crime fiction night at City University, the brainchild of David Headley and Harry Illinworth of Goldsboro Books, Katherine Armstrong of Little Brown and Bill Ryan, Lecturer on the City University Crime Thriller MA course. The idea is for these meetings to be a mix between a social event and a festival-style panel of writers, with everyone piling off to the pub afterwards, in this case, The Peasant (I'm reaching for a joke here, but it evades me).

I felt like I was back at uni as I located the correct entrance, then made my way along drab corridors to the lecture hall and wondered where to sit- near the front, but not the front row- and looked around for any familiar faces. I stared longingly at a box of tiny fairy cakes, before reminding myself that I was greedy and too clumsy to be allowed to eat in public and eschewing a cup of wine for the same reason (both included in the amazing £5 entry ticket). There was also a calico goodie bag including a proof of Jane Corry's `My Husband's Wife', due out in August. I started reading it on the tube going home and was instantly gripped.

The panel was chaired- with the lightest of touches- by Barry Forshaw, who has written a number of guides, including `Brit Noir' and `Nordic Noir'. There were four writers: Leye Adenle, a Nigerian debut novelist writing about a British journalist and a `Pam Grier-esque Blaxploitation heroine' (who shares traits with the writer's sister) who get involved in Lagos' seamy underbelly, when a woman's mutilated body is dumped near a club; Elly Griffiths (half Italian, half Welsh, but still can't sing), an established writer with several series under her belt, promoting `The Woman in Blue', featuring Dr Ruth Galloway, a forensic archaeologist (the writer's husband is an archaelogist); Amanda Jennings, whose haunting psychological thriller, In Her Wake, is her third crime novel. She was very amusing about her second, `The Judas Scar', which she views as a troublesome middle child and feels extremely protective of, as it didn't do as well as the others. The final panellist was Mary Paulson-Ellis with her debut novel, `The Other Mrs Walker' who talked with delightful insight about her writing and the search for identity as a theme in life, as in fiction.

What did I learn? Firstly, that I'm a coward, as I didn't go to the pub afterwards.

Before the event I spoke to the charming Katy Loftus, now Commissioning Editor at Viking, whom I first met when she gave a talk at the Curtis Brown Creative course. I admired my other neighbour's teal nail polish and caught up with Claire McGowan who also lectures on the Crime Thriller MA and spoke compellingly at the York Writing Festival last year.

I was exhausted- that's my excuse. My Christmas-present-from-the-husband Fit Bit is part of the reason, as I'd already clocked up 13,000 steps by then and longed for home. Also, for the first time ever I had 108 active minutes. I think it tracks your heart rate, so it shows how truly anxious I was, as I didn't even go to the gym yesterday!

Leye Adenle doesn't own a desk, but feels the need to tidy up all his papers before he can sit down to write. Us therapists call that `displacement activity'. He suggested we all give up writing and just buy his book. Elly Griffiths' editor tells her to cut the adverbs and stop anthropomorphising the cat;  Mary Paulson-Ellis advised us to ignore the advice of other writers and just write what felt right and believe in oneself; and never show your manuscript to family. Amanda Jennings said to power on through to the end on a first draft, before you start editing little bits or you never get anywhere. She's been known to change the sex of the protagonist halfway through, but even that doesn't stop her forging on. Also, she once tried to write romance, but killed off the protagonist after 8 pages. So- stick to one genre, I guess, although several of them seemed to have zombie apocalypse novels just waiting to burst out.

Next time I'll leave my Fit Bit at home and definitely go on to the pub, although I've no idea how they fitted everyone in...


Monday 21 March 2016

Description, Dialogue and Development



As the time fast approaches for me to devote my working day to writing rather than `theraping’- a great leap into the financial unknown- I am trying to digest Stephen King’s wise words, or internalise them, in therapy-speak, so that he becomes my inner guide, helping me as I begin to craft that bestseller.



This week I’m looking at what he has to say about description, dialogue and character development.



Description is what draws the reader in to participate in the story. `It’s not just a question of how to, you see; it’s also a question of how much to. Reading will help you answer how much, and only reams of writing will help you with the how. You can learn only by doing.’ It’s a matter of balance, he suggests, with thin description leaving the reader `feeling bewildered and nearsighted’, while overdescription `buries’ the reader in details and images and hinders the forward momentum. I know that one of my great faults as a writer is a tendency to use too many adjectives, similes etc and it serves as a useful reminder to `kill all your darlings’.



King’s main point is that description `begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.’ Which is why whenever I see a film that’s been made from a book I’ve loved, I’m always disappointed by how the hero or heroine is portrayed, as I’d imagined them totally differently.



In summary, good description `usually consists of a few well-chosen details that will stand for everything else.’ The way he does this is fascinating: he takes time to call up `an image of the place’ (or person), drawing from my memory and filling my mind’s eye, an eye whose vision grows sharper the more it is used.’ Almost like a writerly trance. I’ve found I can do this in the middle of the night most easily or when swimming.



He goes on to discuss the use of similes. When they work, `a simile delights us in much the same way as meeting an old friend in a crowd of strangers does’. When it doesn’t work, then the results are funny and- to use a favourite word of mine- discombobulating. The example King uses is `He sat stolidly beside the corpse, waiting for the medical examiner as patiently as a man waiting for a turkey sandwich.’ He contrasts this with a favourite simile from Raymond Chandler: `I lit a cigarette that tasted like a plumber’s handkerchief.’



Dialogue is crucial in defining character. He cites HP Lovecraft as a terrible dialogue writer, `it’s stilted and lifeless, brimming with country cornpone (`some place whar things ain’t as they is here’). King refers to dialogue as a skill best learned by those able to listen to others, so I hope my soon to be erstwhile profession will have helped with that- I’ve spent thousands of hours listening to people’s life stories from all around the world. I’ve often fantasized about having a map and putting in a pin for every new client- I believe I’ve covered most European and Asian countries and quite a few Latin American ones. That said, I don’t have a musical bone in my body, so accents, dialect and cadence are something I know I will really have to work at.



King contrasts examples of poor dialogue with the skill of Elmore Leonard, in whose books conversations are lively exchanges that tell us a great deal about the characters. For King the best stories are always character driven. Annie Wilkes, the nurse in Misery, is frightening particularly because we get to see the world through her eyes and she’s not purely evil or mad, she also feels pity. `If you do your job, your characters will come to life and start doing stuff on their own.’ They need above all to grow and change, as the story unfolds and the reader accompanies them on their individual journey.



King declares that his characters are determined purely by the story he has to tell, `by the fossil, the found object, in other words.’ Which takes us back to Michelangelo and the block of marble, as mentioned in my previous blog.


Tuesday 15 March 2016

Part Two on Stephen King and the Writing Programme

The programme King advocates is 4 to 6 hours a day of reading and writing. Apparently, Anthony Trollope had a day job as a clerk in the Post Office (and our red mail boxes were his invention). He wrote for two and a half hours every morning before work.  If he was in mid-sentence at the end of the allotted period, he would leave the sentence unfinished until the next morning. I'm not sure I could ever reach such heights/depths of rigidity, but I suppose the principle is to create a routine and stick to it.

King himself writes every morning and admits that for him not working is `the real work'.  `When I'm writing, it's all the playground.'  I'm really looking forward to starting to play- the past few years certainly feel like there was too much drudgery and a marked absence of fun. He believes that the first draft of a book should take no more than 3 months to write. He likes to manage 2,000 words a day, but allows that beginners can start with only 1,000 a day and take off one day a week- but no more or you lose momentum.

It's important to shut the door, wherever you are writing and avoid all distractions- phones, the internet etc. He writes to hard-rock, but personally, I need absolute silence and can get easily distracted, even by a loudly ticking clock. No problem locking away my phone, however. It rarely seems to bring good news.

In terms of genre King says you should begin by writing what you love to read, which makes perfect sense. I've always distrusted people who feel they could write a Mills and Boon novel cynically, to make money. People often tell you to write what you know, but his advice is sounder: `Write what you like, then imbue it with life and make it unique by blending in your own personal knowledge of life, friendship, relationships, sex and work.'

He states that novels consist of 3 parts: `narration, which moves the story from point A to point B and finally to point Z; description, which creates a sensory reality for the reader; and dialogue, which brings characters to life through their speech.'

It's here that he has a perhaps radical point to make, that stories `pretty much make themselves'. He feels that plot is `the good writer's last resort and the dullard's first choice.' He goes on to say, `I want to put a group of characters in some sort of predicament and then watch them try to work themselves free.' He's not just the novel's creator, but its first reader. When he writes down the first few pages of an idea, a situation, he describes it as having `located the fossil; the rest, I knew, would consist of careful excavation.'

This chimes with my (somewhat vague) memory of Michelangelo's approach to creating a sculpture- that the sculpture was already imprisoned within the block of marble and it was the sculptor's job to carefully `reveal' it , chiselling away with his tools.

`A strong enough situation renders the whole question of plot moot, which is fine with me. The most interesting situations can usually be expressed as a `What-if question.'

So here's one I've got: what if I give it my all and fail?


Monday 14 March 2016

Beginning your- successful- Writing Life, Thanks to Stephen King

I've decided to cut down drastically on my therapy practice and devote myself (almost) whole-heartedly to what I enjoy most in the world, namely writing. To this end I am preparing myself by digesting the second half of Stephen King's excellent book `On Writing' and what better way of doing this than summarising/ annotating it in my blog!

I draw immense strength from King's encouraging words: `it is possible, with lots of hard work, dedication, and timely help, to make a good writer out of a merely competent one'. I've never been afraid of hard work and I've had sufficient confirmation from agents and teachers that I am- at least- a competent one.

The two main things you need to do to progress from one state to the other, according to King, is to read a lot and write a lot. He calls himself a `slow reader', but still manages to get through seventy or eighty books a year. I know I've grown lazy in the past few years- too exhausted by troubled and troublesome kids and my busy practice- and want nothing more at the end of the day than to suck on `the glass teat', but this is going to change. The one thing I haven't done is to stop buying books, so I reckon I have at least a year or two's worth of reading gathering dust in teetering piles.

King suggests teaching yourself to read `in small sips' as well as in `long swallows' and this I already do, taking a book on the tube or bus or train, to waiting rooms and the toilet, although I draw the line at his suggested use of `long and boring checkout lines' to absorb a few pages. I do, however, remember reading in numerous parks and playgrounds and soft play areas, when my kids were little. He also suggests reading on the treadmill, which I've never tried, rather than listening to music or watching TV.

He says you can learn a lot of what not to do by reading bad books, citing Valley of The Dolls, Flowers in the Attic and The Bridges of Madison County as examples. Interestingly, all three have been made into films, the last a very successful one, so I would argue that the stories themselves must be good ones.

He says that being `swept away' by a book is the result of a combination of `a great story and great writing'. He believes that you cannot hope to `sweep someone away by the force of your writing until it has been done to you.' Very much the same principle applies to therapy- you cannot hope to take a client to a depth of understanding of their own psyche until you have plumbed those depths in yourself with your own therapist. Which is why I had six years of therapy and have acquired a degree of self knowledge. Which helps me not to kid myself about my chances of success.

Part Two tomorrow.
Charlotte Bronte at her desk





Monday 7 March 2016

My Anorexic Daughter and the Red Buoy

Last week my 17 year old daughter, having at last been discharged from an eating disorder clinic, suddenly decided she `wasn't allowed' to eat or drink anything. She's sitting her A levels this year and is very keen to go to uni in the autumn. Her clever, ambitious brain was telling her she needed to go into college every day and keep doing her homework and practice papers. Meanwhile, the anorexic voices had begun to shout louder and louder that she didn't deserve to eat.

She sent me a series of texts:  `I can't have anything to eat or
                                                 drink.  xxxx'
                                                `The thoughts are too strong. xxxx'
                                                `It's all just too hard. xxxx'

I've tried all the `You can do it, try harder, I believe in you' speeches. I'm a therapist, I know how to word encouragement and support, but I understood that that wasn't going to do it. Even as I write this, I know it sounds `corny', but I felt the only tool left to me was the strength of our love for each other.

One of the things we both love best in the world is swimming in the sea and because we are people who like goals and pushing ourselves, we always swim out to a buoy in the distance. I got her to visualise this, using all the senses, the water warmed by the sun, but with sudden cooler currents, the taste of salt on our lips and drying on our cheeks, the flash of white limbs below the surface, brushing against ribbed seaweed, the sound of distant shrieks and laughter from the beach.

Once she could imagine that, I introduced a bottle of still lemonade (her favourite, when she's able to drink) that we were passing back and forth to each other as we swam, so we had the energy to reach the red buoy in the distance. I told her we were a team, supporting each other or both of us would fail. We were determined to succeed, so we needed the energy the lemonade would give us. I believed that together we could get to the red buoy. Girl power (or aged mother and girl power!)

She agreed to see if she could drink something, when she got back from college. She got home, drank a big glass of water and ate an apple. Later, she had a full dinner, including her favourite crumble and custard.

I'm not saying that's it, she'll never struggle again, but now, at least, she knows she can win over the voices and doesn't need to go back on the tube. She's not alone in her battle. She gave me a Mother's Day card yesterday in which she said: `You are the strongest mum ever and I'm lucky to have you. You have never given up on me, even when I've felt like giving up on myself. I would do anything for you and I love seeing you happy.'

And that means the world to me.




Tuesday 1 March 2016

Guest Blog by my Husband, due to being ILL!


I love my wife.  I struggle to think of many things which would impede that seriously or for long.

There are habits of hers however, which I find - curious.  Buying wrought iron furniture and carrying it large distances, because it's a bargain (so is a life without a broken back); folding over slices of pizza while eating them, or buying tins of weird things and adding them to ready made pizza (just eat it, properly).

And trying to get published.  For several years, this has been an ambition of my wife. But that's probably an understatement characteristic of my former profession: it's one of the most important things in her life, the yardstick by which she measures her success.  She wants her name on the cover.  It's important.

Now, I understand writing and the joy which arises from that process.  I love that she loves it.  I'm happy she enjoys it. But I dispute profoundly the significance of publication.

Is it really co-incidental that those famous for football or for their ability to remove their clothes and subsequent popularity with footballers, or for their former careers robbing banks or presenting TV programmes, also turn out to be capable of churning out publishable tomes?  

No.  Of course not.  It's published because someone - first the agent, then the publisher - believes (for whatever reason) that enough people will buy it to make them money.  Their `I absolutely love this', `I really have a special feeling about this' are code for that.  

Sometimes, of course, the reason they see the £ signs is literary merit; the correct judgement that this is a great book, that people will love. Sometimes the reasons are sheer nonsense; written for daft reasons, for daft people... and promoted by.... profit-maximising rational economic agents, flouncing around burnishing self-importance, their own un-published books and their English degrees.

So, why on earth - what possible reason - could there be - to pin your happiness on the whimsy of this deeply irritating group?

I don't know.  It baffles me.  I find it hard to articulate quite how little I care about these people or about what they love or don't love.  

It means nothing. They mean nothing - of any importance to me.  They are worth nothing to me.  But of course, my contempt means and is worth even less.  

Because of course, I'd buy into the nonsense bag and baggage, and simper along with the best, as soon as I saw my wife's name on the cover.