CRIME FICTION

The oracle has spoken

2008-10-03T03:53:00.000-07:00

My universe has shifted on its axis... not spinning smoothly yet. I've heard back from The Editor, she who has a hotline to The Publisher... so far the signs from the oracle seem positive, but I'm not skilled in reading the signs and won't relax until the MS has definitely been given the green light. In the meantime, my internal universe is beginning to dust itself down and dare to entertain the hope that this time... this time... no, I can't even think it, let alone write the words.

What a marathon producing a book is! Or am I inordinately impatient? (Yes to both, I fear.)

I can only compare the experience to being young and in love, waiting for the phone to ring...

Serious question

2008-09-30T07:35:00.000-07:00

Why is so much of life spent waiting ?

Any tips for developing that quality of patience that seems to have passed me by?

I could elaborate, but I don't want to wait a moment longer for your replies.

What drives the narrative?

2008-09-14T03:48:00.000-07:00

A simple question: where to begin? I'll narrow it down. I'm thinking about plot and character. Which leads the writing?

In my own writing, I need a starting point which is generally an action - usually a body, in my case! That leads me to dart (or shamble?) off in different directions: the identity of the corpse, the killer, his/her motive and then the unravelling. How is the murderer discovered? The answers take some thought and planning in order to devise a coherent plot.

But - (always listen out for the "but" - one of the most significant words in the English language) - my characters take on a life of their own and pull my ideas in directions of their own. That can lead to mayhem. The characters don't care if the plot is too obvious or completely obscure, if it's logical or blatantly absurd. They just want to be fleshed out. This is where the whole narrative can degenerate into chaos.

On the other hand, to use a character to carry out an action that he or she would never do blows the whole illusion out of the water. So there's a constant tension between where the story needs to go, and what the characters would credibly do.

When I think about it, the whole thing sounds so complicated, I wonder why I ever embarked on this writing lark at all. Like so much in life. Do we overcomplicate the straightforward? That's a question for another post.

Is crime fiction more restricting than other types of fiction, in the sense that there has to be a crime which must be resolved?

Does character or plot drive our writing? How do fellow writers approach the task? Are readers more interested in what happens or who it is happening to? Or is this an impossible distinction to make? What do you think?

2008-09-07T03:12:00.000-07:00

I'm going through a crisis of confidence! I've never read other authors for ideas or resorted to scouring the newspapers for incidents. Without wishing to sound pretentious, I find life itself is inspiring enough. Places, chance encounters, unexpected twists in the weather, someone who doesn't answer the phone... I find anything can set off a 'what if' train of thought. For a while I was absorbed in writing. I've taken to reading avidly again and reading successful authors is a humbling experience. I'm at least as skilled as some I've read, but many authors write so well, and their plots are so damn clever, I feel my excitement at being published peeling away. I know my books will never be classed as timeless great literature (I'm not arrogant) but I do want to be really really good, at least. It's so hard to see beyond the veil of satisfaction at producing a story and tell if it's actually any good. Two questions.
1. I've asked this before but make no apology for repeating myself. I'll probably never stop asking this question. Is it possible to judge one's own work?
2. Is this all just about my ego?

2008-08-21T06:03:00.000-07:00

I'm told the reading public don't like "coincidences" in plots. Life isn't as critical. My hard drive gave up on the very day I'd promised to send my MS to the editor. Only Thomas Hardy could get away with such a dire coincidence. My obsessive backups (see previous posts) came into their own, and I think I've retained a tenuous hold on sanity. The MS has gone and a new hard drive has been installed. So I'm waiting to hear from the editor again.

Publication date is moving closer... My book has moved up the list on my publisher's website. Since sending the MS back to the editor, I've been busy distracting myself. When that fails, I check my emails half a dozen times a day (understatement).

A friend at work is in the early stages of a relationship. As she wonders volubly if he will phone, I'm wondering when my editor will contact me. Our situations are not dissimilar. It's frightening how our life experience is transformed by the actions of strangers - a job interview, a random act of violence, a publisher's decision. And the other side of the coin is how our own actions can affect others' lives.

So I'm back on the blog, not prevaricating, but as a distraction. The best way I know of doing that, is to dive into another world. So I should be working on book 2. It's well on the way. But first, I think I'll visit a few blogs...

How do other writers cope with the waiting when they've sent their MS off? Any helpful hints gratefully received. Reading them will help pass the time...

just a little drivel

2008-07-16T09:19:00.000-07:00

Is it really 3 weeks since I last wrote here? I can't believe how fast the time has flown. I've been working on the final final edits of Cut Short. I should have kept a copy of all the versions... no, on second thoughts, that might have been an environmental disaster. What a difference computers make! I still like to print out and correct on hard copy once in a while, but most of the work takes place on my trusty computer. Today, I stored all my documents on a CD for the first time, so I now have 3 memory sticks (plus 2 more in reserve) and a CD for back up. 21st century, here I come!
In between editing, I've been writing some short stories. It's very different to writing a whole novel. I might try my hand at a play script one day. So far, I've restricted my efforts largely to crime stories, because that's what I do, but I might try a different genre, just for the fun of it. Perhaps the pressure of having to produce for my publisher has made me appreciate writing for myself again. (But I'll let you know if I ever manage to get any of my short stories published...)

I fluctuate between feeling amazingly brilliant, and thinking that my writing is absolute rubbish. Is that a common ambivalence among writers? How do other people feel about their writing? Can you judge your own work?

Writing - art or craft? (as a pig in a poke I'm partial to old chestnuts)

2008-06-24T07:50:00.000-07:00

It seems like a long time since I first began scribbling. It was actually eighteen months ago, no time at all; not long even as a proportion of my life. I believe I've blogged before about how I started writing because I found myself with time on my hands when my children left home and I relinquished a position of responsibility at work, although not my job iself. So, in a moment of boredom, I picked up a pencil and discovered I can write. I wrote compulsively for a few months and actually thought it was easy. I still find writing easy; producing a book is another matter altogether. Back to the confession... where was I? (OK I'll stop prevaricating) I completed a 'story' and thought, "this is rather good." So, in the spirit of having nothing to lose, and without having shown a word I'd written to another soul (talk about fools rushing in!) I typed up my 'work' and sent my MS off to 3 publishers who specialise in crime fiction.

Within 2 weeks (I kid you not) I had a phone call from a publisher who was interested. She asked me to send her the rest of the book. This is where it all began to unravel. In my ignorance - may I call it naivete? - I'd submitted what I thought was a book in its entirety, all 25,000 words of it. Discovering that a real book is a minimum of 80,000 words, I (oh the embarrassment!) cobbled together four stories I'd written (remember I'd been scribbling compulsively for about 4 months by now, 2,000 words a day every day, over 1/4 million words now if not more) and submitted that as my 'book'. Sensing a cornucopia of plots, my publisher promptly signed me up for 3 books, and brought in a brilliant editor to sort me out. Said editor read my work and immediately commented that it read like a collection of stories cobbled together. I was busted!

My publisher (whom I adore not only because she spotted potential in my (very) raw talent and gave me an opportunity to develop as a writer, but also because she is a genuinely lovely woman) and my editor (who could hone in on a splinter in a forest) have allowed me time to sort my ramblings into a coherent narrative. So I feel it's only fair to come clean and admit that the delay in publication hasn't been entirely down to 'other people'. It was me all along!!! I can only add that the past year has been the most amazing experience for me. Most writers work for years before finding a publisher. I've done it the other way round, finding a publisher and an editor and subsequently putting in the work. I've been incredibly lucky to have benefited from their advice. I only hope the book sells after all this and that my publisher feels it was worth the punt, speaking as a pig in a poke.

All of which raises the question: can writing succeed as a creative outburst, or is it a craft requiring thoughtful planning and careful refining?

I've been well and truly tagged

2008-06-24T03:49:00.000-07:00

This is a new departure for me, as I've been 'tagged' which means I have to answer a series of questions - I think that's it. So here goes. It won't be very exciting as my life's about as ordinary as it gets. Perhaps that's why I spin off into "gripping psychological fiction"...

1. What was I doing 10 years ago?
Running a large department in a school with a team of eight teachers, and raising teenage daughters. A busy but enjoyable time of life. Ten years on, I look back and think, "How did I manage to do so much?" and "Why?" I couldn't do all that now. I watch younger, energetic colleagues running themselves into the ground and feel an overwhelming relief that I've stepped back to become a mere foot soldier. Although I have to admit, the only reason I'm sitting here answering these questions is because I'm off work with no voice (not conducive to teaching) while they're all busy working.

2. 5 things to do today
Unusual as I'm off sick. I must remember to take my antibiotics. Also my cough medicine and hay fever tablets. I'm going to be rubbish when I'm old with lots of pills to pop. And it won't be any good giving me those tablets with the days of the week on them, because I won'd know what day of the week it is. And all this from someone who hates all forms of medication and has a healthy distrust of doctors, having been brought up by one. Seriously, I think it's quite amazing what the medical practitioners achieve, the problem being that we all expect them to work miracles when they're just people doing their best within the confines of their limited knowledge.
What was the question?

3. What would I do if I was a billionaire?
I always have problems with questions like this. I can't think bigger than fixing the bit of damp on the ceiling, and the loose slat on the garden fence and a rack for the newspapers that always seem to lie around our house. Not exactly billionaire stuff? And then there are the hospital wards closing for lack of funds. I think I'd want to put enough by so that I'd never have to worry about paying the bills, and then quietly siphon the rest away into a worthy cause. I like to sleep at nights. And I wouldn't forget my children, of course.

4. 3 bad habits
talk too much, can't cook won't cook, hate shopping - are these habits? I'm not divulging anything personal!

5. snacks I enjoy
not got a sweet tooth apart from pastries (yum!), kettle chips, pretzels - those little salty ones.

6. Last 5 books I've read
Lynda La Plante, Simon Beckett, Jeffery Deaver, Ian Rankin, Val McDermid. This bears some relation to my last post... I've been doing some homework.

7. 5 jobs I've had
working in a burger bar, tomato picker, factory sticking metal components in something or other person, taking classified ads on a newspaper, and teacher.

8. 5 places I've lived
Ealing, Canterbury, Whitstable, Herne Bay, St Albans - all over 20 years ago.

That was surprisingly quite fun. I'm off to check my instructions as I believe I now have to 'tag' someone else.

confession time!

2008-06-22T13:51:00.001-07:00

I seem to have put the image in the centre of the page this time. Probably a Freudian slip in the hope that anyone dropping by won't get as far down the page as reading what I'm about to confess... but in fairness to my publisher, I think it's time I came clean. (deep breath) I've been ever so slightly economical with the truth. (Is that allowed, in someone who admits to writing fiction?) The truth is, (dare I go on?)... the reason for the delay in publication of Cut Short has not been entirely nothing to do with me. It's a long story... I'll tell you next time. (sounds of a yellow chicken dropping white feathers)

2008-05-21T09:47:00.000-07:00

Did I mention that CUT SHORT has reappeared on my publisher's website? Eagle eyed readers of my blog may notice a subtle change in the cover reflecting a change in Geraldine Steel's status. I wonder if other books change as much from conception to the finished article? And CUT SHORT is not done yet. The MS is still with the editor so there may be further tweaking before it is finally published. I'll be quite sad when it's all over, really. It will be the end of an era for me. On the plus side, I will (all being well) (fingers crossed) be a published author! What will I blog about then? I suppose I'll be climbing the next mountain... "sold another copy today!"

2008-05-18T14:23:00.000-07:00

I love my new room with my spacious new desk and absence of distraction so much that I've written another book since my last post. I'm in the process of self editing it and have even passed the MS on to my trusted readers (3 members of my family). Is that a good enough reason for not blogging for a while? One of the advantages of my new room is that my laptop has no internet access BUT the new cable is now in place and my desktop will shortly be moved up there. I wonder if I'll be as prolific once I can access my email and ... my BLOG! or will the temptation prove too great?

Other news is that CUT SHORT has reappeared on my publisher's website with a new publication date of March 2009. By this time next year, all being well, I will (finally) be a published author! I know I shouldn't be feeling this excited after such a protracted wait - and I have been in this position before - but I'm really excited. Let's hope it all goes ahead this time.

Although the book is still a way off, you can read about the book, by googling CUT SHORT Leigh Russell and clicking on No Exit Press Stock List and finding it there.

2008-04-22T03:20:00.000-07:00

I am very excited because my new desk has arrived. I ordered it from a catalogue and somehow got the measurements wrong - it's HUGE! I'm really pleased that it's larger than I expected. I'll have room to spread out. I can't wait to finish sorting everything out so I can get settled. (I'm resolutely ignoring the little voice in my head saying I'm procrastinating...)

Is location important? If I was really inspired, I'd be able to write anywhere. When I first discovered my passion for writing, I scribbled whenever and wherever. Now, after a year of incessant and obsessive creativity, I've slowed down to take stock. Will my new desk herald the start of a new burst of creativity? I plan to be very disciplined...

Today's question is linked to the last post about the need for silence or bustle - how important is it where you are when you write?

2008-04-17T15:49:00.000-07:00

I wonder if other writers prefer silence or background bustle when they write? I used to think I needed absolute silence to concentrate but I find I often put the radio on when I'm writing. I can even write in front of the television (shocking admission!) Music distracts me, but people talking on the radio seems to help me to think. I have also enjoyed bursts of creativity sitting in Starbucks. Isaac Asimov wrote that he found the buzz of a busy venue (like an airport) energising. I think I'm the same sometimes. At other times I prefer quiet.

I have been writing at home in a small room in the middle of the house. I like the fact that it's small but hate being in the centre of the house. My study is, effectively, a corridor that people walk through as it is a short cut from the front door to the kitchen. This is where I am going to make a confession...

One of the reasons I enjoy writing is because it sometimes gives me a feeling that I have some control over something in my life. The decisions I make about my writing may not be completely 'free'. I often reject an idea I would love to keep because it does not work. My characters frequently run away with my words and seem to write their own stories. But it is between me and the words on the page. No one else can dictate to me (until the MS reaches the editor, of course! But I'm still enough of a novice to find even the idea of having an editor incredibly exciting.)

I was going on to say that it annoys me when people walk through my 'space' when I'm writing because I am such a control freak. But that's not it.

To create an imaginary world, like all writers I lose myself in that other place, the world that springs from my imagination. And it's vexing to be distracted from that other, imaginary, place.

So... I'm moving upstairs to an empty bedroom. Not only that, I've bought a NEW DESK! It should be delivered soon. All that remains will be to arrange for my computer to move upstairs with internet access (will that require cables? I've no idea.)

I'm looking forward to having a private space of my own, where I won't be disturbed. I wonder if I'll feel lonely and fret for the irritating interruptions I now grumble about? I have a sneaking suspicion I'll be continually trotting down the stairs to seek out distractions... or blogging. Or will I be incredibly self disciplined and focus on my writing...

What if...

2008-04-01T12:11:00.000-07:00

When I first started writing, I painstakingly wrote in neat long hand. I would only use pencil so I could make corrections without spoiling the appearance of my writing. When I was satisfied, I typed it up. I always kept a hard copy of everything I wrote, just in case my computer failed.

Gradually as my confidence in my writing grew, I became less dependent on my rituals. Now I find I can "create" in long hand or on the keyboard with equal facility. I prefer the keyboard as my typing is faster (and neater) than my handwriting. Despite the increased speed, I still tend to produce about 2,000 words in a day. More than that seems to exhaust my brain!

I no longer feel compelled to print out everything I write. This has probably saved a small forest. It has also saved on print cartridges, not to mention the time I (still) spend shredding discarded versions of my MS.

There is still one ritual... I weaned myself off the hard copies by using a memory stick. One day someone warned me that these are not 100% reliable. My work is now saved on not one, not two, not three, but four memory sticks. Neurotic or logical? If one m/stick could fail, why not the second? The odds must be the same each time... Are four enough? I know it's bonkers, but what if I used only one memory stick and it failed just as my computer died on me? After all, without my "What if" imagination, would I be writing crime fiction in the first place?

It is not true that I spend longer saving my work than writing it.

update

2008-03-30T09:20:00.001-07:00

It's been a while since I last wrote on this blog. I've been busy writing. My publisher has postponed the publication of my first book, CUT SHORT. We missed the 2008 Spring date. I have since learned that such delays are common in this business. My publisher did not want to bring the book out over the Summer as this would clash with festivals in which they are interested, after which everything is focused on Christmas. So we've rescheduled, as the Americans say, until early 2009.

I now understand why producing a book is likened to producing a child. After the fun of the creative process, it's a long, long wait...

I'm more excited about the book itself than the publication. When I was waiting to hear about the deal with my publisher, a friend said to me the nightmare would be that in the end no one would publish my writing. But that's not it. For me the nightmare would be that I stopped writing. It has been an amazing thrill to find a publisher, but that's not what this is about for me. It's all about the writing. I love it.

CUT SHORT is listed on Amazon as due out next month. On my publisher's website it's March 2009. Like Hamlet, I don't know when it will be, but I know it will happen. And whenever it is, I'm ready! In the meantime, I'm writing.

2007-12-08T03:16:00.001-08:00

My MS has gone back to the editor... and it's gone from my head. Over. Done with. History.

As soon as it left my hands, I paid two (only slightly overdue) bills, sorted out my phone, checked my post (tax disc due up shortly on my car) and bought a completely impractical pair of purple boots... I feel like a zombie returned to life!

I wonder if all writers have another project in mind when they finish a MS? What must Tolstoy have felt like when he put the final full stop to War and Peace if I feel so strange after finishing my little scribbles?

How do other writers cope with reaching the end of a book? Is it a cause for celebration or a sense of loss?

Of course, it's not quite done. There are still the next lot of edits to deal with, but I'm not thinking about that now... (although there is a little voice in my head asking whether I won't be disappointed if there isn't any more work to do on the MS. Can it really be finished? Is that it?)

Thank goodness I'm writing a series. Yes, I've already started rewriting the next book...

2007-12-05T10:21:00.000-08:00

People commonly compare writing a book to giving birth. I never really understood the parallel, until now... After complications with my first pregnancy, I was told my second wouldn't be allowed to go beyond term. On my due date, I packed my overnight bag and dutifully went into hospital where the consultant decided everything was fine and we should let nature take its course. I picked up my bag and went home to wait.

Over the next two weeks, I received phone calls from almost everyone I knew:

"Hello, you're home!"
"Yes."
"What did you have?" and "How's the baby?"
"Er... I haven't had it yet... I'm still waiting."

Now that I've told everyone I know that my first book will be published in April, (as it appears on Amazon), my publisher has postponed publication until the summer. Apparently this happens all the time: delays with the designer, the editor, clashes with other publications, and goodness knows what else besides.

Coincidentally, the current publication date is... my second child's birthday!

2007-11-29T15:43:00.000-08:00

I blogged a lot recently about my experience of being edited. Having fought my way through this temporary but necessary obsession, I've decided to move on to another topic. I suspect you're growing bored of reading about my editor's cuts. If you want to hear, more, please let me know and I'll oblige (or find another excuse to delay revealing the extent of my ignominy.)

Now that my MS is all but complete (I daren't say complete yet, after my earlier debacle, before I hear the editor's judgement) and I've not been thinking about it to the exclusion of all else, I find my plot and characters popping into my head at random times.

Ideas seem to appear in my head when it's impossible to write them down. Today, for example, I had several flashes of inspiration ("Sounds great!" you might think) at these times: in the shower, driving my car, walking from one building to another in a cold drizzle, and sitting in a meeting (obviously). (Not so great now.) I also usually have crucial ideas just as I'm going to bed, exhausted by the double life I've been leading (working all day, then writing from 6pm till 1 or 2am).

My question is this: Do some writers have ideas while sitting sensibly in front of paper or screen, a pot of fresh coffee to hand, and no distractions? Is it possible to be sensibly creative? Does creativity require a certain amount of chaos from which to spring, or am I just trying to justify my scatty approach to writing?

2007-11-23T13:27:00.000-08:00

I cracked on, and I'm on top of the edits. Why did I ever glibly say, "Writing's easy"? Thank you, those of you who've experienced the process, for not laughing at my naivety. (Not in my hearing, anyway.)

I am really enjoying blogging again. I've received so many supportive comments from my blogbuddies. It has really made a difference and kept my spirits up. (I know I should say 'kept me sane' but...) Seriously, we hear so much about all the evils in the world, it's comforting to know the world is full of goodhearted people being kind.

I've been edited and I have to say that, painful as it sounds, I loved the experience. I've been on an amazing journey of discovery, learning to control my creative talent. I'm not skilled yet, but I'm on my way. I won't reveal how many of my 80,000 words I cut, but my title, Cut Short, took on a rather ironic significance . I'm not sure I can admit where I went off the rails. Perhaps it was inevitable, as I've churned out 6 books in a year, without much thought. "Can it really be this easy?" I thought. Guess what: it isn't.

Yes, I've been edited, and I loved every minute of it. I've had the cut, and been initiated: I am now a writer. Of course, I've said that before, and I'll have to wait and see what my brilliant editor says to the revised MS...

2007-11-15T16:54:00.000-08:00

"I never want to see anyone, and I never want to go anywhere or do anything. I just want to write." (P.G.Wodehouse)

I'll return to my blog next week but for a few days I have to focus on Cut Short. There are revisions in the pipeline. The eagle-eyed among you may notice a change from the cover design here and the final cover on the book, behind which lies a story in itself.

In short, I've received THE dreaded letter from my editor, and I have to do some WORK on my MS. Enough of all this writing for fun, it's time to sort my MS out. I promise to blog all about it when I recover from my insane writing fest... if I recover. It's a ... sorry, no time to think of a word ... got to crack on or crack up (or both).

2007-11-14T13:07:00.000-08:00

There I was, feeling - well, clever - because my book is on Amazon, when my computer silently announced it was configuring and shut itself down. I waited, outwardly calm, for what seemed a long time. At last a little white arrow appeared, hovering in the centre of the darkness, like the finger of God: Let there be icons.... I waited. No icons, but a little flag appeared. I waited for other shapes to emerge from the blue haze on my screen. My computer sent me another message. Tablets of stone? Configuring updates. "Fine," I thought, "configure all you like. I'm not worried." I was aware of my fingers, tapping wildly on the desk top. (That's the top of a desk, to me.)

I sat, staring at the ocean blue of a screen teeming with life, whirring invisibly beneath its surface, until a tiny revolving circle appeared; a spinning planet had emerged.

I was late for work but couldn't tear myself away until my screen was restored. So I sat suspended, a fly in amber from a vanished universe, clinging to a world I will never understand. I was thrilled when my computer made a small beep. Something was happening within its hidden depths. I glanced at the green light for reassurance and it gave me hope.

Is this the equivalent of some religious mystery, I wondered, this unholy trinity of hard drive, mother board and screen that reveals its meanings to us? Its high priests are technicians who can fix malfunctions (which happen when I've done something wrong)? I'm an enforced devotee, at heart a heretic.

I thought I really would be late for work, when a familiar icon appeared. Click. My screen was back. A small box appeared, ghostlike in the corner of the screen. Click here to see the solutions found for your computer. I didn't want to know, didn't dare click any more keys, but I heard myself murmur, "Thank you."

E.M. Forster set a story in a future where mankind has become entirely dependent on technology. People's limbs have withered through lack of use and they can barely move. There is no need; machines do everything for them.

The story is called 'The Machine Stops'.

2007-11-09T16:05:00.000-08:00

A little voice has been clamouring in my head since I signed the publisher's contract, telling me this is all a dream. That voice has now been silenced. Cut Short by Leigh Russell has appeared on Amazon.

2007-11-08T02:39:00.001-08:00

Remembering my original claim that I was going to share something of my experience as a new writer on this blog, I thought I should say something about that, as well as asking questions about life, society, writing - and important matters like how to use italics in a blog!

I write murder stories that seem to develop in one of two ways. I don't start at the beginning of a story and work chronologically (or any sort of logically) through to the end but begin by writing the exciting, dramatic scenes first. They're the most fun! Then I go back and fill in everything else, like plot and characters.

I may start writing with a murder scene. This raises questions. Who was the victim? Why was this person killed? Who was the killer? The story spins off from there.

Alternatively, I might begin with a discovery. A body is found. Who found it? Who was the victim? Why were they killed? Who was the killer? And I'm away.

It becomes a question of problem solving, like a kind of jigsaw to fit characters, motivation and opportunity together into a plausible story. I love the challenge of solving the difficulties this raises and am in the middle of one right now. A body has been found in an unlikely place. How did it get there? who is it? why? - I'm stumped for a plausible plot line, and having enormous fun trying to work out something good.

I love the idea that I need never ever be bored again, for the rest of my life, because there's always some problem to resolve.

So if you see someone with a faraway, slightly deranged look in their eyes, muttering to themselves, it could be me, working out how the body got there..... Best not say hello, it might be someone else who is demented, talking to themselves and gazing wildly round not seeing what's in front of them, lost in another world altogether.

I'd hate to have to do this to a deadline! Oh, and it beats doing crosswords. I was never any good at them anyway.

2007-11-07T02:34:00.000-08:00

I foolishly undertook to write a new post every Wednesday so here goes.

Casting about for an idea, paradoxically gives me an idea, because I've been wondering l about this very subject lately: where do ideas come from? I mean the ideas that spark creative endeavour. Did Shakespeare have any problem, with his licence to use existing plots? We insist on originality in art. Encouraged by a tireless media assault to aspire to size zero figures, perfect teeth, etc. why should we yearn to be clones outwardly yet insist on originality in art? Is art the last refuge of the individual in our society?

I'll focus on characters. My publisher advised me to keep reading, for ideas, but I find my inspiration in life. No offence to the human race intended, but I can't sit long in any cafe, stand in a station, or walk along the street, before I realise that the peculiar characters I create as a writer, my odd little works of fiction, are no stranger than many real people. Life is bursting with possibilities.

Sometimes a character just pops into my head or develops on the page in front of me without intention on my part. I suppose I've had the idea unconsciously working iself out for a while, but it seems to just appear from nowhere, ready formed.

So my question this week is this: where do ideas come from? I wonder where other people find theirs .

2007-10-31T09:57:00.000-07:00

to bloggers who've asked -
Cut Short will be available in the USA and Canada

Before I launch on today's topic, I'd like to thank all bloggers who contributed to the discussion arising from my last post.

This week's post is about my experience as a new writer.

My book is going to be published - how can I be reluctant for it to be seen? Until yesterday, the only two people who had read my work were my publisher and editor, apart from my accounts of dead bodies which I read to a retired doctor to check that my flights of fancy were plausible. Yesterday I went to a seminar offering tips to authors on how to give a reading, where we were invited to read a short extract of our work aloud. My reading is fluent and I have faith in my writing. Why did I feel so nervous in front of an audience whom I knew, rationally, to be sympathetic?

This led me to wonder: does everyone expect to be judged, or is it just me? Is it human nature, or do we live in a society that is becoming increasingly judgemental? Pupils at my school assume they're in trouble if a teacher wants to see them, staff summoned by the headmaster expect problems.

So my question is: have we developed a culture of complaint not appreciation? How often do we grumble when things fail to go our way? We resent having to queue, we grow impatient with slow service, we feel aggrieved when machines break down. We expect everything to work efficiently, and are angry when it doesn't. But are we happy when things work normally? Do we thank people when they do a satisfactory job? Or do we expect it? That's their job after all. I was once so happy with an IT technician for fixing some slight problem on my computer that I emailed him and and he told me that in twenty years of doing his job, I was the second person to thank him. That shocked me. I don't claim to be any better than other people - if I'm honest, I'm generally more impatient and curt than most. I just wonder whether, in a general way, the lack of support we show to strangers is changing our expectation of how they will treat us and we're spinning into a downward spiral of mutual distrust and social unease.

Or am I just feeling paranoid that no one will like my book?