On Judging and Good Stories

As I’ve mentioned here before, I’ve been judging the SlingInk Scribbling Slam. A six round writing competition where, after each round, I provide feedback on all the entries in the hope that my suggestions will help the writers become better.

And it’s been difficult. I don’t mind admitting that. For one, I know some of the entrants so, even though the entries are anonymous and I have (honestly!) no idea who’s written what, I’m worried that I’ll upset people who I know are nice and good. And that’s not mentioning the people I don’t know, who are, I’m sure, nice and good too.

It’s time consuming (I want to do the job well) and I’m not being paid for it. But, as I said, my aim is to help each and every entrant improve. And, I must say, from what I’ve seen so far, they have been doing (I’ve been really impressed).

Writing stories is hard. Writing good, or great, stories is really, really hard. I suppose that’s why, out of all the books we read, there are only a small number we’d say we loved. Which is kinda another point: this is only my opinion.

Anyway. I’ve been writing for a number of years with considerable success, and I’ve been teaching writing for a fair old while too. And I thought it might be helpful for me to share some tips (never let it be said that this blog’s all about me!) and to point out where, in my experience and humble opinion, people tend to go wrong.

So, here goes (and you can see a full list of extra tips here)…

Start your story in the right place. Sometimes you’ll only see where that is once you’ve written a first draft. Often (and I do this) we can write ourselves into the story. We start off, get settled, get familiar with our characters, and THEN begin. What you need to do is identify that point of ACTUAL beginning and start your story there. Don’t be afraid of cutting out bits.

Focus on a moment. I’ve seen this a lot. Someone has had a brilliant idea for a setting or world or character and have thought about it a lot. The temptation then, is to include everything. That, usually, is a mistake. A story, often, is the telling of a moment. One moment. One scene. One point of conflict. What you need to do is find one and concentrate on that. Often, it doesn’t matter what’s happened before that point, or what will happen after it.

Make Sure Something’s At Stake. Again, I’ve seen this a lot. Great characters and great setting but there’s nothing, or not enough, at stake for the characters. Make your characters work for their ending. Don’t make it easy for them. Make the reader worry, care, get excited.

Make The Ending As Good As What’s Come Before. No point in having a great build-up and no punchline.

Don’t Be Afraid To Take Risks. I admire people being brave in their story telling. And that could take the form of characters, stories, layout, or any number of things. But remember: a great concept (like a great idea) won’t always make a good story. The story needs to be as good as the idea or concept. And remember too, there’s NOTHING at all wrong with something just not working. That happens to me all the time. Try to learn from it and to move on to the next.

This might be the most important tip and the only one specific to me judging.

Write Your Story The Way You Want. Folks, these are your stories. You should write them how you want to. Please don’t write them in a way that you think will impress me. Be true to yourself, be true to your idea and be true to your story. Do your best for your story. Treat it like it’s your child, or something! Or perhaps, treat the story as though you’re sending it on a date – you’d want the date to like the person for who (s)he was, wouldn’t you?

And also

Relax. Don’t try too hard. Be natural.

And most of all

ENJOY IT! This is supposed to be fun! (And, I can tell you with certainty from my experience – if you’re enjoying what you’re writing it’ll most likely be good.)

A Winning Story

Today, I have:

Had my hair cut
and
finished judging round 3 of the SlingInk Scribbling Slam. And again, I’ve been very impressed with the standard.

Which leads me rather nicely onto this…

As with the 1st round, I’m delighted to post the winner of the 2nd round here. It’s a short, short story called Crescendo, it’s been written by Juliet Boyd and I think it’s rather fab.

Enjoy!

CRESCENDO
Written by Juliet Boyd

She hates the sound of violins.
I knew that before we started going out. She wasn’t the romantic type. The most I ever heard was a few plucked heart strings, never a full-blown melody. Complete opposites.
I had hoped that my feelings would be masked by the plink plonk of the raindrops, but even as the rain gets heavier and the cymbals begin to crash, I can hear the notes oozing out. She turns towards me, her eyes narrowed, her head tilted. A low note surrounds her. I know that tone. Lurking, just waiting for its moment to explode. I start to whistle. I never whistle.
I’ve been practising for this one night for weeks. Breathing techniques. Relaxation techniques. A bit of vigorous exercise. I even went to a seminar to learn how to suppress my inner tuning. Nothing worked.
So here we are.
The restaurant is packed. Full of couples. Discordant as a whole, but individually beautiful in their harmonies. For once she says nothing as we sit. I look into her eyes and my heart begins to bow.  Slowly at first. But something is wrong. No, not wrong, right. I can hear a second string intertwining with mine. She smiles. Our tune rises out of nowhere and blocks out all other sound. Its strength binds us.
And I get down on one knee.

Thank You, Oz

I’d not seen Return to Oz in a long, long time before last night when I found it was on the telly. I watched it. I loved it and something very much clicked.


It was the ideas behind the story and the characters. Odd characters, strange characters, but characters that felt very real. Tiktok, the mechanical man, who needed different parts of him winding up in order to work, and who was the one man army of Oz. Jack Pumpkinhead – made from a jack-o-lantern and branches and who just wants to know who is mother is. The evil witch who changes her head(s). The being brought to life by fixing furniture, palm leaves and a moose’s head together and sprinkling magic powder on it. The lunch pail tree. The coming back to a familiar place and finding everything different.


Bloody brilliant.

I remember being taken to the cinema to see it when I was little, and I remember being enchanted and terrified at the same time (those wheelers were PROPER scary).


But yes. The characters. The story. The imagination. The way the different was almost normal.

You know? I think something stuck.


(And here’s the trailer. Not the best, but it’ll do.)

Junk

So, yesterday I tidied my office. I went through files and folders and cupboards and shelves and GOT ORGANISED.

And I was surprised at what I found. Old drafts of stories. Old drafts (and drafts, and drafts) of books I’d written before deciding they were rubbish. My work for a (pretty crummy) distance learning writing course I did years ago. Enough highlighters to last me a lifetime. Old notebooks.Birthday cards and Christmas cards from people I don’t speak to any more – they’re the things that reminded me how much things have changed in the years that I’ve been writing/trying to write. Eight years. Who’d have thought that!


Anyway. So with the files and cupboards done yesterday, today it was time for me to tackle my desk drawers. To say their organisation had been neglected would be an understatement. But I don’t really keep much in them aside from a bit of stationery and a few odds and ends. OR SO I THOUGHT! (I also thought the drawer was pretty small. Hmm. How wrong one can be.)

This is what came out of it.

Christ on a bike indeed.

So, what was that stuff?

Well, more highlighters. An array of staplers. The camcorder battery I’d been looking for for months. Tape. Stuff. More stuff. Pens. Pencils crayons. Lighter fluid. Even more stuff.

The largest paper-clip I think I’ve seen. (Pictured next to my watch for scale. I don’t do things by halves, you know.)

And this. Which was very much not expected.

(For those younger readers here, it’s called ‘a cassette‘. And it’s an audio book about a chap called He-Man.) Like I said, it’s funny how things change. This used to be cool. And modern. And I used to be young.

We Won’t Be Pursuing Further Work With You

I’ve been having an almighty clear-out of my office today and happened upon this gem. It was for a script I’d sent the BBC many years ago. And yes, the very final and very definite ‘We won’t be pursuing further work with you’ did, most certainly, sting at the time.
I can smile about it now (actually it’s probably my favourite rejection). I just thought I’d share. It’s important to understand that rejections happen.

It Is Seldom Simple

Well. It’s been quite the few days.

But first I want to point you in Amazon’s direction, because you can buy Not So Perfect from them for £5.99. 20% off’s not bad at all, in my book.
***
So, what else has been going on?
Well, one moment I’m called an expert, the next, the fab Jenn Ashworth calls me sage. I know. The world’s gone mad.
She was actually talk about her interview with me – and that reminds me, if you pop over to it you can be in with a chance of winning a personalised copy of Not So Perfect.
***
What else? Well, the weekend before last my parents’ dogs escaped. The one with already bad legs (and, we subsequently discovered, a pretty much permanently dislocated hip) was frightened when someone poured water over him and bolted over a cattle grid, thus further damaging said bad legs. So over the past ten days or so I, being the thoroughly (and sage! and expert! pah!) chap that I am have found myself bathing paws, administering medicine and comforting a distraught dog (in the middle of the night). Which is funny really as they’ve spent most of the time prior to being injured barking and generally getting on my nerves. And I prefer cats.
(But, as you can see from the photo, I’ve not done too bad a job of nursing them back to health.)
***
Today I emailed the results of the second round of SlingInk’s Scribbling Slam to the powers that be there. Another terrific bunch of stories – seriously. I’m just sorry that it took me longer than expected. But paid work ended up getting in the way and there’s not all that much I can do about that. Ho hum.
***
And, speaking of work…
I had a terrific time at Heswall library last Friday, doing a Talking : Books event with Caroline Smailes and Jon Mayhew. A big thanks to all who came and to those who asked good questions and to those who listened – and to the librarians who made us most welcome. (And a message to the librarian who was with me when I opened my bag – I SERIOUSLY have NO idea why I’d packed loo roll. I really wasn’t that nervous.)
***
And lastly, but certainly not leastly, I want to wish my sister and her new husband all the very best. They’re married now. I hope they liked the poem I wrote them as their wedding gift. And if they didn’t – well, it’s the thought that counts! 
Seriously – I wish you both all the happiness you deserve.
***
So there you have it. It has been an eventful old time. Tomorrow, with luck, I write.

What Makes an Expert?

I have a question for you. And it is this: What Makes Someone An Expert in Something?

The reason I ask is because, a couple of days ago, someone called me an expert on the short story. It was a strange thing to hear. Flattering, of course, but it has got me thinking, mostly, because I don’t think I am.

I mean, I know how to write short stories (I think), I know how to judge them and I know how to teach others to get better at writing them. But does that make me an expert? I’m not so sure. Competent, yes. Good, probably. In love with writing and reading them, and sharing them, without doubt. Experienced, yup.

Pretty much everything I’ve learned about writing has been achieved through reading, through trial and error and, to a lesser extent, through online work-shopping. It’s all been done on my own and it’s been hard work and pretty much completely unstructured.

I’ve never been to a workshop (except from when running them!), I’ve never used a literary consultancy (despite running one), I don’t have a degree in literature or creative writing – let alone an MA.

Does that mean I’m not qualified? Or less qualified? When you work in the arts – what does make you qualified?

I suspect part of this could be my natural shyness coming out. You know, it’s only recently I’ve been comfortable calling myself an ‘author’ (despite my first book being released over four years ago).

Whatever it is, I do think it’s a very interesting question.

So, folks, over to you. What do you think makes an expert?

***

In other news…

I thoroughly enjoyed the event I did with Caroline Smailes and Jon Mayhew at Heswall Library on Friday. Thanks to all who came and who asked such interesting questions. I’m just sorry I was a little late and that the event went on far longer than planned AND that we didn’t get to answer everyone’s questions. We tried!

In Conversation With Me

A little while ago the I answered some questions the brilliant Jenn Ashworth put to me. We talked about writing and about my books. We talked about music. We talked about writers’ block. I gave some tips on blogging. It was fun.

And you can see the results at The Lancashire Writing Hub by clicking here.

I do hope you enjoy.

(You can see me interviewing Jenn, last year, here.)

Me and Me and Others

I’m rather pleased to point you in this direction. The direction of top writer Tom Vowler’s blog, where today you can see him interviewing me. (I interviewed him here. Us short story writers are nice like that.)

***

And I’m very much looking forward to 2.30 on Friday when, along with super Caroline Smailes and Jon Mayhew, I’ll be at Wirral Bookfest, in Heswall, Talking: Books.

Anyone coming along?