Blogging in the Wind

I've been in a bit of a funk lately.  It feels like nothing is moving forward but rather life is stagnating. No-one can afford to do much, business is quiet. I write and write but feel like I'm not getting very far. It's become abundantly clear to me that I'm not cut out to be a stay at home mum.  It feels like something has to give but I'm not sure what. 

I met an acquaintance on the train this morning. A completely random meeting, I'm not usually on that train and missed the one before by a nano-second so it feels like fate. I don't know her fabulously well, although we've been more than nodding neighbours for around three years.  Our conversation covered a lot of ground over the twenty minute journey and she helped me to realise how blessed I am. I thought I'd write it down for my own reference so I can refer back in my darker days.

Here we go:

I have my own business. It allows me to spend a tiny bit of time with the children in the morning and more importantly leave early so I'm home in time for bed/book routine.  Work has been quiet lately but I enjoy my job, I always have and know how lucky I am to be one of the few people who can truly claim that,

I work near a park where I go running during my lunch hour three times a week. London Zoo is on my route so I see Giraffes and Camels a couple of times a week. Also Herons, Ducks and Canada Geese. The gardens are beautiful and today they were rehearsing a musical for the summer open air theatre programme and strains of Chorus floated through the air. The park is full of happy tourists, students, families and lovers. It's a privilege to spend time there.

I have two beautiful children and a fantastic husband. He's not much domestically but is my tower, my strength, my better half. I would be lost without him and I am a better person with him.

I started writing last September. Since then I have been long listed for two writing competitions, received six publisher rejections for my children's story and am about 43k words through my first adult novel.  Being a writer might be a pipe dream, but at least I'm working to make it happen.

The nice thing about Blogging is it's a bit like therapy. You get to talk, follow your own stream of consciousness and articulate things that are going on in your head.

I've got to sign off now. I should be focusing on my business and trying to drum up some new clients. It might be a bit late for a New Year's resolution but my New Week resolution is to be positive, grateful and try harder.

Wishing you all a good week.

Submitting a Manuscript

I've just received my first rejection letter from a literary agent. It's liberating. Rejection isn't as bad as one might expect. Admittedly it was a very nice letter saying that as a small agency they take on very few of the many writers who approach them each year and, having reviewed my work, feel they are unable to effectively represent me.

Now that is a gentle fob off and it's clearly a standard response but they didn't laugh at me. Some young intern didn't shoot off a cynical, sarcastic missive suggesting I don't give up the day job just yet. For that I thank them.

The downside to this is having followed all the advice from my adult education class, as well as other blogs, I only submitted my manuscript to one agent.  I waited 9 weeks for their response.  Combining this timeframe with  JK Rowling rejection statistics of 18 rejections before finding a publisher it would take me 162 weeks to find an interested party. That is 3.12 years.

I'm not the most patient person in the world but surely that would truly test the commitment and self belief of any author.

The good news is I've since googled 'multiple submissions.' The general rule of thumb is that it is acceptable to make multiple submissions to agents so long as if and when someone does indicate an interest in your work you let the others know.

So go on, get your work out there, give it a go. I truly wish you the best of luck and really hope that soon we have some good news stories to share. 

Run Rage

Get out my clucking way

You can see I’m on a run

Not just strolling in the park

Chasing ducks for fun

As you walk eight abreast

Blocking the entire path

I buzz behind you angrily

While you chat and laugh

It really is quite wonderful

You’re having a lovely time

But one hour is all I have

For this lunch of mine

So when you see a runner

Weaving through the crowd

Please remember to share the path

And do this poem proud

The Perils of Scriptwriting

Our last assignment of term was to write a script in 100 words or less.  The brief was very straightforward, we read a script. There was a lot of dialogue, as you would expect, punctuated by stage directions in italics. We did a class exercise about a wedding and a big secret and off we went. Simples.

Or maybe not. I was really happy with my output and looking forward to the last day of term. We took it in turns to cast our plays and hear them acted out by our peers. It was great. Then it was my turn. I cast the teacher to read the stage directions. The prolific stage directions. At once I sensed a problem. She looked at the script and wrinkled her nose. Turned the first page. Exhaled. Sat back.

Everyone looked at her expectantly. 'I think I won't read the stage directions in this. See how we get on.'
'OK.' I agreed. Inwardly knowing it would never work, there was a lot that went unspoken in my script. The actors bravely did a read through. The class was silent. It made absolutely no sense.

'Perhaps we should try it with the stage directions?' The leading lady suggested.
'Hmmm.' Our teacher wrinkled her nose and sat back folding her arms.
'Yes, I think it would make far more sense.' Agreed the leading man.
'It's almost prose.' Argued our learned leader.
'It's very well imagined. I think it would bring it to life.' Pressed the supporting actress.

Thus pushed the teacher capitulated and a second read through went much better.
The gradual realisation dawned on me. I hadn't written a play at all. I'd managed to come up with a half play/half short story hybrid. Lazy. Caught out.

Of course if I'd visited the website that we'd been told to look at before doing our homework I might not have made this mistake. Or maybe not. 100wordplays.com.http://100wordplays.com/

An Honourable Mention

 

So my first short story submission to a competition received an 'Honourable Mention'. March 2012 - Multi-story.co.uk six hundred word flash fiction competition judged by Lucy Floyd. It's hardly a book deal but it's a start.

Building your Profile as a Credible Author

We were talking in class the other day about how one goes about building a profile within the publishing industry. There are so many aspiring writers out there it might not be enough just to write a great story. J K Rowling was famously rejected by twelve publishing houses before finally getting the greenlight.

New Authors can fall at the first hurdle with their CV and Cover Letter. It's all very well having a strong synopsis and compelling offer, the problem is who are we to be offering our manuscripts to agents? What credentials do we have to that give us the right to intrude on these busy professionals?

Entering competitions and submitting contributions to receptive press are a good starting point. Google 'story or poetry competition' and hundreds of results will be returned. They usually require a small entry fee, often which goes towards a charitable cause or sustaining a small independent publisher. Competitions can be local or global. Some carry more stature than others.

Pick ones that feel right for you. Submit your work and most importantly keep the faith. Rejection is all part of the process and as my husband always says, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

If you really need somewhere to start check out this competition which has been put together to raise awareness for palliative care charity Dying Matters. Closing date is 31st March 2012.

Good Luck!

Life Writing

It was an emotional class last week. Our homework had been to write the first 600 words of our own memoir. It was a real challenge. My own life story would read like a soap opera, with twists, turns and ridiculous decisions illuminating my history like cheap tinsel and gaudy baubles on a secondhand christmas tree.  This was clearly not a direction I wanted to take in writing class where I like to portray myself as a sophisticated, slightly mysterious woman of the world.  I'm afraid I cheated. No 600 word intro leading on to bigger things. Instead I drafted a 40 line poem about my children who really are the closest thing I have to a redeeming feature.

My class mates were far braver. I feel privileged that they chose not to cheat and instead answered the teacher's brief. The work read out loud was powerful and simple. Every writer stripped themselves bare, revealing things that you wouldn't usually show to people you barely know.. It was raw and emotional. Focusing. A reminder that outside your own little world there are other people living, feeling, crying, laughing.

Life writing. I have never given it proper consideration. From now on I will.