Category Archives: Publication

The Writer is ‘In’

Well, you wouldn’t expect anything less messy for my work space, would you? And flowers, of course.

You can tell when I’m ‘writing’.  The kitchen floor’s immaculate (yes, really), there are freshly baked scones in the tin, I have washed the car (yes, really), weeded the borders, walked the dog, groomed the cats, spent an hour on Twitter, done four loads of washing, and ironed my way to the bottom of the basket (yes, really).

In other words, I’ve put off the dreaded deed until I’ve completed one hundred zillion important chores which simply HAVE to be done before I can park my bum on the chair in front of my computer, and get down the actual job of writing.

When I get there, open up a file, and begin to flex those creative muscles, I usually wonder, what it is that’s made me so hesitant to get going?

Because I actually enjoy the process of writing.  I do a lot of it, one way or another. I write articles, poems, short stories, flash fiction (and dare I own up to having three adult novels and one children’s book on the go?), and most nights I write in my journal. I also write weekly letters to my sister and mother, usually longhand with a fountain pen (on water-marked Basildon Bond writing paper – how anachronistic is that?).

Of course, it is the fear of failure that holds me back. Which is why I don’t do sky-diving or ski-jumping, I guess. Which is daft, really, I know. After all, it is not the actual writing that can fail me – it is the publication, or rather, failure to achieve publication, which spoils it all. Back to that strange need for third party validation, which I’ll never quite get over.

In the past, I have aimed at getting a hundred submissions out over 12 months. That was a tall order, and I haven’t quite managed it yet. But my logic is that the more material out there being considered for competitions, or by magazines, newspapers and publishers, the better my chance of success. So, on days when I get one or two rejections, news of a competition shortlisting or publication in a magazine, is all the more sweet.

I have taken some annual leave this week with the intention of putting nose to the writing grindstone. My daughter and I (we are Luri Cole writing a thriller together) are so close to the finish line, we just need a final push. No distractions from visitors, or the garden (it hasn’t stopped raining for days – perfect writing weather), we have the space, the time, the equipment all in place.

So, what am I doing writing a blog post? Oops!

The Plot Thickens

Luri Cole
One of us might need a haircut before we get too deep into this writing lark

Did I mention I’m writing a novel – a joint effort with my criminologist daughter? It’s a kind of grip-lit character-led thriller.

Standing in the supermarket queue, that’s the sort of thing to drop into a conversation beginning with Irish weather/Brexit/refugees/the price of petrol/Leo-at-the-helm (delete as appropriate). Or is it?

Since we went public with our plans to write a novel together – we’re ‘Luri Cole’ (a mix of Louise and Rhiannon), we seem to have ground to a halt. The more people we tell, the slower moving the project, or so it seems. Not sure why.

Originally, we thought we might write the book in chapters, each one finishing on a cliff hanger. I’d write the story into a corner and Rhiannon would write it out again, and then into another problem for me to solve. Like a game of consequences. Simples. Ha!

Instead, we plotted it quite carefully and drew up a set of characters we believe in. Now we’ve the story and the first 50,000 words. But.

And then today, while Rhiannon was slaving over a hot stove (which is another story which might turn into a rant about decent job opportunities for criminologists in mid-west Ireland, so I’ll keep it to myself), I took myself off to an editing workshop for writers.

Another workshop? Well, yes.

Trust me, there’s no end to the number of tips and insights you can get from meeting working authors. And I really enjoyed this one.

Elizabeth Reapy’s workshop was in the Linenhall, Castlebar, County Mayo. I recommend her novel ‘Red Dirt’, which some might find surprising given my stance on cursing and swearing. red dirt ‘Red Dirt’ is a cracking (very sweary!) story of young Irish ones in Australia. But in the same way that Donal Ryan and Kevin Barry churn out the hair-curling vernacular, the language is pivotal to the characters’ story and it races along in a way that made me want to keep turning the pages (or swiping, I read it as an e-book).

At the workshop, Elizabeth recommended we write down what we find difficult in our writing, and later suggested we might ask one of our characters to tackle a part of the story that isn’t working.

Ah, ha! There followed a light bulb moment, and I rushed home to pick up Luri Cole’s story where we’d last left off. We’ve already changed tense, points of view, and ditched a main character, but there was something else wrong, and it has only now occurred to me what that is and how we can fix it.

Recently, I was at Listowel Writers’ Week, at another excellent workshop, this time with short story writer Danielle McLaughlin. And over several days, I got to listen to some successful new(ish) authors talking about their novels – and I found the whole thing very inspirational.

lying in wait   my nameis leon  himselfMy favourites were Liz Nugent (‘Lying in Wait’), Kit de Waal (‘My Name is Leon’) and Jess Kidd (‘Himself’). All come highly recommended by me (as well as by just about everyone else).

 

If Luri Cole’s forthcoming novel can be anywhere near as entertaining as these, I think we might be onto a winner.

Time to superglue bums to seats in front of the laptop and finish the damn thing!

 

In Praise Of. Punctuation!!!

wtf-1I’ve never been much taken with ‘experimental’ fiction, not least because all that stream-of-consciousness malarkey often eschews the rules of good grammar and punctuation.

It’s not that I don’t want to be challenged by what I’m reading (although sometimes I just want to read something that’s easy on the brain, in soothing, warm bath style), but frankly, reading some so-called experimental writing is just plain hard work.

And not worth the effort.

Sticking my head above the parapet here, but I’ve never got on with ‘Ulysses’ (or much else by James Joyce come to that). Gasp! Did I really own up to such heresy?

Of course there’s plenty more out there in the Ulysses mould. Endless tomes challenging the reader with stories that are inside out, back to front,  no beginning, middle or end, from multi or singular points of view (in the same sentence) and the like. Long pages of confusing metaphors, allusions, and vague references that could mean anything (and probably do).

But it’s the one long sentence trend that’s got me just lately. What’s. That. All. About? I mean, just what is wrong with proper punctuation?

eats-shoots-leavesI don’t know why punctuation matters so much to me, but it does. And I probably don’t always get it right, although I try. One of my most-thumbed reference books (beside my Roget’s Thesaurus) is ‘Eats, Shoots and Leaves’ by Lynne Truss, enjoyable for me because I totally get it.

It’s not that I find poor grammar and punctuation unforgivable, just irritating when it’s from people who should know better. A whole novel in one sentence? Really? OK – but why?

I have a friend who is dyslexic and when she writes her annual Christmas letter to me, I don’t bat an eye-lid at the phonetic spelling and sprinkling of inappropriate apostrophes. I usually understand what she’s trying to say and I’m pleased to hear her news.

But if her efforts were to appear in print I’d be miffed. Not just because she’d beaten me to it (ha!), but because the pedant in me wants published material to follow certain rules of grammar and punctuation. And I fizz and grumble when it doesn’t.

And while I realise that not all experimental fiction is ungrammatical, why should novels written in one long, long sentence be held in such high esteem? I just don’t get it.

Of course, when I get around to reading Mike McCormack’s ‘Solar Bones’ (which so many people are raving about) I’ll probably change my mind. I might even have a bash at one terribly long sentence myself, instead of trying to put together so many of my usually short ones.

Meanwhile. Let’s eat Grandma! Or: Let’s eat, Grandma! Or even: lets eat grandma because nothing else here makes sense…

Or you could try reading January’s story in the Hennessy New Irish Writing section of the Irish Times – one long sentence by Manus Boyle Tobin: The Drizzle on the Windscreen. I’m not sure how to say this, but I grudgingly admit that it works. And I rather like it!

Stockings, and the Filling Thereof…

cat-tales-anthologyIf you know someone who likes cats and short stories (always a good combo in my opinion) this anthology might be a good Christmas stocking filler. A paperback with illustrations and 21 stories (including one of mine, ‘Waifs and Strays’), the proceeds go to two charities – Cats Protection and the Against Malaria Foundation. ‘Cat Tales; An Anthology of Short Stories’ is available at Amazon:  Cat Tales

Or there’s ‘The 2016 Exeter Story Prize Collection: 21 New Stories’ which also includes a short, short story of mine, ‘Fitting In’ (which has nothing to do with cats!). These are stories and flash fiction from this year’s CreativeWritingMatters competitions, available on Amazon: 2016 Exeter Story Prize Collection

BTW – I’m not in it for the money on this occasion; I receive nothing from the sale of these books (I even had to PAY (gasp!) for my own copies). It’s all about me trying to raise my writing profile. Although I did get paid £50 for coming second in the Exeter Flash Fiction Competition with ‘Fitting In’  🙂

 

 

Poking the Bad Tooth Side of Writing – Trying to Make Money

words-irelandWhat do you call a group of writers squashed into a hot room in County Leitrim’s Ballinamore Library on a Saturday afternoon?

It’s a trick question. Everyone knows there’s no collective noun to describe a gathering of writers tripping over each others’ egos as they describe their life and times as scribes.

But a few words sprang to mind as I drove home through the beautiful Leitrim countryside (Google Maps was right – Ballinamore is exactly one hour away).

Just in case you’re wondering where this is going, let me say from the start that all the words I thought of are positive: inspiring, entertaining, interesting, intriguing, thought-provoking.

I was not sure what to expect when I signed up for the first Words Ireland Writers’ Series. If I’d have known it was going to be so interesting – and relevant – I would have rounded up a few more of my local writer friends, but as it was I flew solo, not really expecting anything of worth to happen so far away from Dublin. Wrong!

Words Ireland turns out to be ‘a group of seven national literature resource organisations who work collaboratively to provide co-ordinated professional development and services to the literature sector’ (phew!). The Irish Writer’s Centre and the Stinging Fly are in there, of course.

On Saturday October 22nd 2016, local writers Michael Harding, Brian Leyden, Gerry Boland and Monica Corish were lined up for the first of a series of question and answer sessions, this one in Leitrim. I’m familiar with their work so I was keen to hear their views on what drives them to write, how they became writers and how they find (and keep) an audience. They didn’t disappoint.

Most writers are keen to hear how others do it – and make money from their work. But the panel were at pains to point out that hardly anyone can make a living from just the writing part of writing these days. It seems you have to agree to writing commercial children’s books when you’d rather be writing poetry, or have a partner with a ‘proper’ job bringing in a regular income, or rely on sometimes meagre bursaries and grants, or run creative writing classes…

The thorny issue of self-publishing was raised, and as expected created the start of a debate for and against (I’m still on the fence on that one. For me, third party validation in the form of a mainstream publisher is my goal. That is, until such time I admit defeat and head for Lulu.)

We heard about the MA route to publication (which I’ve considered myself recently). And we scratched the surface of the need for writers’ work to be better valued (what other profession gives away so much of its hard work for free? Which is what I’m doing right now, in a way.)

Then there was mention of the intriguing Creative Frame professional development network in County Leitrim which was lauded for its encouragement of the arts not just in Leitrim, but in its neighbouring counties as well (music to my Roscommon ears).

There was an impressive number of writers in the room who clearly take themselves seriously – highlighting the need for more regional networking opportunities like this (move over Dublin!).

As a result, I’ve now booked my ticket to the Allingham Festival in Ballyshannon, County Donegal, on November 5th. I’m looking forward to an Afric McGlinchey Poetry Workshop, and Irish Fiction Laurate Anne Enright in conversation with Sinéad Gleeson.

But I’m especially looking forward to another session with Bernadette Greenan of the Irish Writer’s Centre as she brings together more writers and poets from across the north west for a talk on professional development (she was the one who held the Saturday session in Ballinamore together so admirably). Wild Atlantic Writers is a free event on November 5th as part of the Allingham Festival

Meanwhile, you can read an interesting article about Words Ireland and writing for money, published in Friday’s Irish Times  here.

Sex is good but have you ever been shortlisted in a writing competition?

squirrelI have been spending a lot of time recently wondering why on earth I write. Of course, it’s rejections that bring on that ‘what’s it all for?’ mood.

I seem to have had a good few negatives explode in my in-box recently, like badly placed mines ready to tear off my writing limbs. They are somehow counterbalanced by an unequal number of positives of course, which is what keeps me going.

I carry on because, as I’ve said before, ‘Sex is good but have you ever been shortlisted in a writing competition?’ (I need to get a fridge magnet made). That thrill of knowing my story or poem stood out as proficient and entertaining, that someone besides family and friends thought my work was good – well that’s what it’s all about.

Ultimately of course I write for myself, for my own amusement and to escape into a world where I have total control, where I can be anyone, anything I want to be. It’s almost a compulsion, my need to write (I’ve been doing it since I was old enough to hold a pen). But it still matters to me that other people enjoy my writing too.

Yet writing is like many aspects of the human experience – one size does NOT fit all. Music, painting, sculpture, dance, garden design, fashion, politics, food, drink – life would be very dull if we all liked the same things.

True, some things are generally well liked and popular – think Elvis and the Beatles, think JK Rowling and Stephen King, think Monet and Picasso, think Jamie Oliver and Delia Smith, think Coco Chanel and Stella McCartney, think chocolate and colcanon.

OK, such a list could go on for ever, but you get the idea? And culture in all its guises is subjective, so I shouldn’t get hung up about someone not liking my writing. My work should appeal to someone, but not necessarily everyone. Should I mind? Probably not, but I do…

So in order to prove to myself and other people that I CAN write, I put myself through the competition mangle time and time again. Last year I’d planned to get to one hundred submissions (which included competition entries, bursary applications, magazine contributions et al). I ran out of steam after no 74, although by then I’d garnered a few wins, with some published stories to add to my portfolio. Plus, the coffers were not unduly strained (I more than broke even, although I’m not booking the round-the-world cruise just yet).

I hit the ground running in January 2016 and promised myself again to try for a century. We’re not quite half way through the year and I’ve just fired my 51st submission off, ever hopeful of a ‘congratulations’ reply.

Meanwhile, one thing that has perked me up no end was looking through my records and discovering that some of my successes had been failures in a previous incarnation. Each one got dusted off and rewritten, then sent out again, including one story that was rejected by a very good writer (the lovely one I met in a bookshop in Cork last week!), which went on to get published in an anthology with a highly commended tag.  Which just goes to show…

And the picture? Er, squirrels?  Yes, well first off, I really miss them here in Ireland. They don’t live anywhere near me (nor do hedgehogs or rabbits, although we do have foxes, hares, badgers and polecats). This one lives in Swansea (Dylan Thomas country – see, there is a writing connection here). And this fella likes stale Cheerios, although some of his fellow tree rats don’t…

QED, eh?

 

Writers on Other Planets

book haulHere’s a nice story: Once upon a time there was this wannabe short story writer who was wandering around Waterstones in Cork when she found herself introduced to the lovely author of the book of short stories she was about to buy…

Yes, that was me in Cork.

I know, it’s a long (very long) way from County Roscommon, but I have to say, I LOVE Cork and wasn’t going to miss the chance of a visit when I was invited to the launch of the anthology of stories from the From the Well Short Story Competition.

So, up with the lark and many miles later I got to meet the writer who judged the competition, Billy O’Callaghan, whose stories I have much admired from afar. He did not disappoint and was kind enough to chat to me for a few minutes with some helpful tips on entering writing competitions. He is very encouraging to new writers and is now in place as Cork’s Writer in Residence.

I was thrilled to have my story in the anthology ‘Bunker and Other Short Stories’,  published by Cork County Library and Arts Service, particularly since it got a special mention in Billy’s introduction to the book.

Fast forward 24 hours and I’m still in Cork, soaking up the buzz of the city.

I mean, tuneful buskers, street artists, vegetarian cafes, bookshops, sunshine, friendly people with that fabulous (almost Welsh) accent, what is there not to like?

I still had some of my book token winnings to spend from the Irish Writers Centre Competition I won a few months ago, so I wandered into Waterstones. I intended buying Billy O’Callaghan’s book of stories ‘The Things We Lose, The Things We Leave Behind’ which I’ve already read from the library, but I wanted my own copy. Same with Sara Baume’s stunning novel ‘Spill Simmer Falter Wither’.

Then I spotted Danielle McGlaughlin’s ‘Dinosaurs On Other Planets’ which I snatched up too. I have enjoyed many of Danielle’s short stories and have been looking forward to getting my hands on her new collection. All three authors are local to Cork.

So imagine my delight when the Waterstones man pointed out a blonde customer quietly browsing the books a few feet away and called her over to meet me.

Danielle McGlaughlin kindly signed my copy of her book and stayed to chat about writing groups and competitions and such, telling me what a vibrant literary scene there is in the city.  Well, I think that’s what we talked about. I was totally star struck – she probably wondered how such a jibbering eejit could put any words together to make sense, but she was very kind and went away promising to look out for my story in the From The Well anthology. And it turns out she’s had past success in that competition, too.

This week, I was still high on the news that I was one of the final ten in the Exeter Short Story Competition, but I crashed back down to earth with three separate rejections on the same day just before I headed for Cork.

I’m still not sure what to make of all this competitive creative writing, but I understand that being shortlisted and winning competitions offers some sort of third party validation as to my writing ability…

But what a pity I live such a long way from Cork!