2 Comments · Posted on June 9, 2016
So, I’m sitting here at silly o’clock in the morning and I have been doing emails (there is a mountain of them and, if you’re waiting for something from me – and I know many are – it won’t be long). To be fair, I’ve been doing them most of today – that and phone calls and arranging and rearranging meetings and getting June and July confused. And making sure I’m good to go for the first workshop for children I’m running at Darnall library on Friday. It proved instantly very popular (I’ve been very lucky with that of late) and sold out almost within a week I think (but I am told that, if you’re quick, there might possibly one more place up for grabs…).
And then, in the midst of it all, Google alerts gave me this. A story I may or may not have written from Freaks! read, wonderfully, by the great Asher Black a few years ago. Click here to listen. It made me happy.
There is more I could talk about and I will do soon. But I have, as always, things to do tomorrow and so I shall sign off and go to bed and at least try to be half sensible.
Leave a Comment · Posted on June 1, 2016
So I’ve not been on here, or online, all that much, mostly, because I’ve been being busy. Writing has happened and teaching has happened and all’s been good on that side of things.
A couple of weeks ago I went to a wedding and it was all the things weddings should be. A celebration and fun and filled with good people.
(This is a tired me after it – it took a good while to get there but it was definitely worth it.)
I helped out with the photography which meant that I was just on the outside of things and that suited me perfectly. It’s probably my favourite place.
And then it was my nephew’s birthday and that was good too. I bought him a lightsaber. We duelled. For over an hour and a half, and then I played football with my eldest niece and I held and made faces at my youngest niece who’s still a baby and it reminded me that, really, that’s what life’s about. It’s about sharing and it’s about joy. And lightsabers. Life should always be about lightsabers.
2 Comments · Posted on May 22, 2016
So, the panel at Bradford Literature Festival is done. And it was brilliant. (It is definitely a festival to look out for – the programme is wonderful and interesting and diverse, and it’s been organised superbly – DO check it out).
The delightful Leah Moore (who, aside from doing wonderful and good things with comics, is also doing other Very Interesting Things with Electricomics – DO have a look), Taran Matharu (NYT bestseller as of last week – huge congratulations), and me talked about new ways of writing, and how we started (and continue in the industry) and a whole manner of things I hope were interesting or helpful and it was good. A huge thank you, as ever, to those who came – it was a shame I didn’t get to have more of a chat after. I hope you were all able to take something useful away with you (and you can always drop me a line here, don’t forget). And thanks, too, to Ralph Dartford for his splendid, chairing duties.
It was fun. Meeting good people, talking to and sharing space with people who love stories and make stories and read stories has always been one of the things I love most about what I do.
And, today, I even dressed up.
And here’s us after.
I remembered, as I was on the train heading back, that the last time (I think) I was in Bradford was when I was, I think, about eighteen and on a course for work (back when I had a proper job). It was the first time I’d driven on a motorway, and it was in a left-hand drive VW Lupo. I remember my colleague being, err, a little shaky once we stopped. (Graham, I am still very sorry.)
Later, after trains and things, I went for a walk and it was really quite lovely. It was the kind of light you seem to get at this time of year, and not very often at that. See?
It’s been a bit of a weird and busy (as ever) few weeks for me. I have been writing again and that’s been good, or was good, until I managed to get an infection in my finger (cellulitis, I’ve had it before but, thanks to our brilliant NHS and their walk-in services I have medicine) which, kind of stopped me dead. Isn’t that always the way? But it’s better now and, once I’ve finished typing this I shall be picking up my pen again and making words and worlds and, hopefully, they will be good. Or good enough to be made better later. You never can tell…
1 Comment · Posted on May 20, 2016
First up, a quick reminder that I’ll be on this brilliant panel at the Bradford Literature Festival on Sunday at 2pm. I’d love to see you there – if you are coming, and fancy a quick cup of tea somewhere afterwards, do let me know. I am always happy to drink tea with nice people and I know that everyone reading this MUST be.
And, onto the order of the day…
It’s a pleasure to have the lovely Suz Korb here for a little while, revealing something very exciting. It’s definitely not anything I’ve had here before, and I can’t remember ever seeing something like this. Curious? You should be. Read on…
Leave a Comment · Posted on May 12, 2016
I have been working as a writer for many years now and over the past decade or so I’ve been lucky enough to work with many, many talented people. Collaborating with editors and publishers and writers and illustrators on books and stories, putting together charity anthologies, teaching, running workshops and groups. My longest commitment has been a writing group at the library in the town where I grew up – that’ll have been going for ten years very soon. And, from that group, lots of really interesting and really good stuff has been produced by some very lovely and very talented people.
And, as such, I’d like to point you in a few interesting directions after seeing this is this month’s issue of Writers’ News.
Jenny’s are really terrific books, and are definitely worth checking out. I think my favourite, and probably because it’s the most recent is Night Light (you can see the full list here).
And here she is talking about Why Didn’t They Listen?.
And Jenny’s aren’t the only ones I’d love to point you towards. We have Barbara Challenger’s brilliant account of working as a volunteer in Ghana, By God’s Grace.
1 Comment · Posted on May 10, 2016
I’ve been really lucky to have worked with the fine people at Sheffield Library Service a few times now, and I’ve been absolutely thrilled with the work we’ve produced. It’s been a lot of fun too. So I’m delighted to say that I am running a six week after school writing group (all the details below) at Darnall Library next month. We’ll be learning how to write good stories, from generating exciting ideas to turning them into brilliant stories which, at the end of the six weeks, we’ll turn intern actual. proper, book. Places are going very quickly so you’re probably better signing up sooner rather than later.
Do spread the word. Hope to see you there!
And you can book my contacting the library either by email firstname.lastname@example.org or by telephone 0114 2037429
Leave a Comment · Posted on May 5, 2016
I’m delighted to welcome the brilliant, and long time friend of the blog, Tim Atkinson along today to talk about his next book, the Unbound produced, The Glorious Dead. Here’s what Tim has to say about it…
“My book hit something of a milestone recently. It’s now 33% funded on Unbound – one third of the way to publication.
In case you’ve never heard of it, Unbound (the world’s first crowd funding publisher) basically allows authors to pitch their ideas direct to the public. Readers then decide what gets published.
The company was founded in 2010 by authors Dan Kieran, John Mitchinson and Justin Pollard. They realised that traditional publishing had become – for writers and readers alike – a stale and formulaic business-driven venture. ‘Put simply,’ they said, ‘there are lots of potentially great books we’re not getting the opportunity to read.’
My book – The Glorious Dead – is a book about the Great War. But it’s a war book with a difference – because the action only starts when the guns stop firing. There are no battles, no set-pieces, none of the clichéd characters (absurdly young subalterns, hoary old sweats) that might populate similar books, nor any of the Olde England Arcadia that comes through Blunden, Thomas and even Wilfred Owen.
As such, it is unlikely to appeal to the traditional devotee of Great War literature. Instead of guns, the soldiers now have picks and shovels. The narrative is almost inverted – from the creation of the iconic war cemeteries as the men clear the old battlefields and bury the bodies of fallen comrades, to the action of the killing fields as it appears in reminiscences and dreams. But there are secrets hidden on these Flanders fields – including one that is revealed only when a visitor from home comes searching… for the grave of one of the survivors!
I’ve supported Unbound for a long time as a reader and I was delighted to be accepted by them as an author. But I’d be lying if I said that crowd funding wasn’t bloody hard word. It’s a bumpy old ride, having to market a book before publication. But I’ve found the engagement with the reading public has been a real pleasure (largely – there have been a few exceptions). And – and here’s the real bonus – I’ve actually had conversations with people about my book that have changed what I’ve written. I’ve hardly had any conversations with anyone before about any of my books. And now I’m having them almost daily, and before the ink is dry, when I can do something about them. It’s wonderful.
There are drawbacks, as I’ve said. It takes a lot of time. But then, so does any publishing model these days. There also seems to be some confusion about what crowd funding books is about. My MS was assessed – twice – by Unbound before I was allowed to sully their Booker-nominated imprint. But to judge by the reactions of some people (including some ‘friends’!) you’d think what I’m doing is a cross between vanity publishing and pyramid selling.
Well, you can’t win ‘em all. Except with Unbound, that is. Because as a reader (and this is where I started) the real bonus of crowd funding books is the opportunity it gives you to be part of something, to help get a project off the ground and to have the chance to ‘talk’ to the author as s/he writes the book. As well as to make sure, of course, through your support and involvement that the book you really want to read gets written.”
1 Comment · Posted on April 27, 2016
A little heads up for those of you in the north (or those who fancy a trip up to the north)…
I’ll be appearing at Bradford Literary Festival on Sunday May 22nd, 2pm – 3:15 and I’m very excited about it. Not only because of the brilliant things I’ve heard about it, or because there’s genuinely brilliant line-up there, but also because the panel discussion feels important and interesting and fresh. And relevant too.
Here’s the blurb (all the info can be found here):
“Writing will always be writing, but the act of finding, consuming and enjoying the written word is evolving rapidly. New writers are finding innovative ways to get their words in front of an audience, sometimes taking a totally new path, and sometimes combining new techniques with more established publishing models.
Exploring the new ways of writing are panellists Leah Moore, comic writer and project manager of experimental digital publisher Electricomics; flash fiction exponent and poet Nik Perring; author and online writing pioneer Taran Matharu; and founder of groundbreaking comics publisher PositiveNegatives, Benjamin Dix. Journalist and comics lover David Barnett chairs.”
Tickets are, of course limited, so booking ahead would probably be a good idea. Hope to see some of you there. (And if you are going, let me know – there might be time for a chat and a cuppa afterwards.)
Leave a Comment · Posted on April 23, 2016
So, it’s 2 am and I’m up with a book and I’ve not blogged in a while so here we are. I have opened a beer and there is a Japanese film playing on the TV in the background (not because I am or want to look cultured – it was on after Rudetube, which I caught the end of). Basically, I am just done for the day. I’ve been out to do things and I’ve spoken to people on the phone and I’ve written – and that’s been a lovely change because I’d not been writing too much recently because I’ve been so busy doing other writing stuff (teaching, editing, running my course). Two stories in two days makes me feel happy and more like an actual writer again and, at the moment, I’m not too bothered if neither of them turns out to be any good. Things are moving in my brain and that’s enough for me.
Especially after last week, when I missed a trip to Berlin because I had flu. I’m not sure I’d had that before and I can tell you now, I’d rather not have it again. One thing it did do though, was make me stop for a few days. I’ve not done that in years.
And, what else? Well, as well as all the teaching and workshops and editing and flu-ing and sleeping, there’s been reading. The lovely people at And Other Stories sent me Joanna Walsh’s Vertigo, and I’m glad they did because I’ve been dipping into that (it’s tonight’s book) and it’s excellent.
I also read My Name Is Lucy Barton and that was pretty spectacular too – a real gem from the woman who brought us Olive Kitteridge.
On Wednesday I was with a young writers’ group I co-run and as part of the session I read them some Aimee Bender* and Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vonnegut. And, when I think that that was the first time they’d heard those stories from those people it made me fiercely proud – not just to live in a world where that kind of wonderful literature exists and we have access to it (even in the US Vonnegut gets banned in places!) but also that stories like them are still desperately relevant. Often I take that for granted. And, often, I take for granted how lucky I am to be able to work with people of all ages and to teach because it’s a hell of a lot of fun and I get to get excited about things that excite me and I get to see those things excite other people. And affect them. And get them thinking.
So there you go. That’s all from me, for now. But while I’m away, feeling smug about it all, you can watch this – a brilliant adaption of Harrison Bergeron (which even features the brilliant hostess from Airplane – it Shirley does). Watch it, and be amazed. And then please seek out the story, because the story’s even better. (I’m only saying seek it out because this is the only link I can find and the font’s bloody awful and it’s 2 in the morning and I have books to read, and some Samurai has just been stabbed on the telly and he doesn’t look too happy about it.)
*What You Left In The Ditch
Leave a Comment · Posted on April 9, 2016
I’ve been meaning to do this for ages. Post something on here about David Bowie, once the (star)dust had settled after his passing. And, I guess, now I’m here doing it there doesn’t seem that there’s too much to say that’s not already been said, much better, and by much cleverer and successful people, than me.
What I will say is: thanks. I know, absolutely – without question – that without him I would not be doing what I’m doing now were it not for him. And that’s not because I’m a Bowie superfan, because I’m not. I love his music and I love what he did. But the reason I’m sitting here, able to do this, able to have an audience, to publish the kind of books and stories I publish, (picture books for grown ups about a relationship told through people’s favourite words and trees, anyone!) and to have those magazine and publishers who publish them, owes so, so much to him. He opened doors. He showed people in the mainstream what was possible. In fact, I’d go as far to say that he showed that anything is possible if you try and if you have vision and conviction. And that different is good. That different can be better – exciting. And also that it’s okay to try and to fuck up. There haven’t been too many of those around and we are lucky when they find us.
When I was at the end of writing Not So Perfect I was listening to Bowie a lot and, as a result, the last story in the book is my retelling (if you can call it that) of Five Years and it’s one I’m still, more than five years on, really proud of.