How many of us, when we have children, think that they will be what we make them? The terrifying feeling of responsibility that goes with a newborn prevents you at first from seeing that right from the moment they land, they are their own people. I was always slightly worried that if I had a boy, I would inevitably end up standing on the side of a football pitch, (I haven't) but I hadn't considered what things I would get to learn about as they grew up. It's like feeding on demand - I do activities on demand.
When people ask how my daughter came to be learning the bassoon - I find myself shrugging and saying, 'Well, I'm not really sure ...' The simple answer is, because it was offered and she wanted to. From the moment she handled one and heard it play, it was her instrument. So I dipped a cautious toe into the world of the Music Mom (Soccer Moms have nothing on some of them for drive and sharp elbowed determination) where saying you play nothing and know less is not an option.
Yesterday I found myself in Trafalgar Square at Maslenitsa - the Russian festival for the end of winter and the beginning of Lent. The Russian alphabet remains a beautiful and elegant mystery to me, but not to my son, who asked for Russian lessons several months ago and was greeted with smiles and encouragement when he tried out his new language on the stall-holders in Trafalgar Square.
Sure, I offer them my own interests - not always successfully, though my son has learned not to say that Joni Mitchell screeches - but I follow where they lead and I end up in some fascinating places.
Monday 27 February 2012
Monday 20 February 2012
Rewrites Again
So the email wasn't of acceptance. It was - another rewrite! 'Can you put back in some of what you took out?' I can but I'm struggling to do so within the word limit they want from me.
I'm touched that they are taking the trouble - much easier for a busy fiction ed. simply to reject and move down the pile - and I can rewrite and rework for ever. But will we ever get to a point where we're all happy?
Today's job is to go back and look at the rewrite (two) which I completed before half term got in the way and see if it's going to work. (I'm sure there are other writers who can work during school holidays - but I'm not one of them.)
Wish me luck.
I'm touched that they are taking the trouble - much easier for a busy fiction ed. simply to reject and move down the pile - and I can rewrite and rework for ever. But will we ever get to a point where we're all happy?
Today's job is to go back and look at the rewrite (two) which I completed before half term got in the way and see if it's going to work. (I'm sure there are other writers who can work during school holidays - but I'm not one of them.)
Wish me luck.
Thursday 9 February 2012
What Where When How
Over at An Awfully Big Blog Adventure today - http://awfullybigblogadventure.blogspot.com/ -
Sue Purkiss showed us pictures of her notebooks. They are beautiful things, with bright colours and designs. I wanted to stroke them!
My first thought was how dull I felt by comparison. Here on my desk are mine: plain black, Moleskin, the sort that wrap round with an elastic. The elastic is the most important part! I do occasionally put loose sheets in but clearly, as I posted over there, it is more my wild thoughts that need containing and controlling.
Now like most writers, I have a passionate relationship with stationery. Even now, working almost entirely on computer, I look at notebooks, yearn over the feel of a page, study the width of the lines, and the flexibility of the cover, never mind the design that prompted me to pick it up in the first place ... so there must be a reason I choose plain black.
I can only think it's because of the absolute simplicity of it. It says nothing which allows me to say anything. If I had a red leather cover or a woven silk Japanese design, it would set my mood before I even opened the pages.
All my ideas go into these plain black books. Yet my YA novel plans are in a vivid turquoise blue - slim, bendy and no band. I knew it was a departure but the colour overcame me and plannng this book felt like an adventure, a reckless attempt at something new rather than a steady noting of ideas for viable, sellable magazine fiction.
And of course I always used to write in ink. Until my constantly leaking ink pens let me down and I toured the supermarket one day with a blue nose. Black gel pens just about give me that same smooth flow across the page, but it's never quite as satisfying as ink.
How you write, where you write, with what, on what - it shouldn't matter so much but it clearly does.
Sue Purkiss showed us pictures of her notebooks. They are beautiful things, with bright colours and designs. I wanted to stroke them!
My first thought was how dull I felt by comparison. Here on my desk are mine: plain black, Moleskin, the sort that wrap round with an elastic. The elastic is the most important part! I do occasionally put loose sheets in but clearly, as I posted over there, it is more my wild thoughts that need containing and controlling.
Now like most writers, I have a passionate relationship with stationery. Even now, working almost entirely on computer, I look at notebooks, yearn over the feel of a page, study the width of the lines, and the flexibility of the cover, never mind the design that prompted me to pick it up in the first place ... so there must be a reason I choose plain black.
I can only think it's because of the absolute simplicity of it. It says nothing which allows me to say anything. If I had a red leather cover or a woven silk Japanese design, it would set my mood before I even opened the pages.
All my ideas go into these plain black books. Yet my YA novel plans are in a vivid turquoise blue - slim, bendy and no band. I knew it was a departure but the colour overcame me and plannng this book felt like an adventure, a reckless attempt at something new rather than a steady noting of ideas for viable, sellable magazine fiction.
And of course I always used to write in ink. Until my constantly leaking ink pens let me down and I toured the supermarket one day with a blue nose. Black gel pens just about give me that same smooth flow across the page, but it's never quite as satisfying as ink.
How you write, where you write, with what, on what - it shouldn't matter so much but it clearly does.
Wednesday 8 February 2012
Rewrites
How long should you give to a rewrite? In financial terms, as little as possible. Short stories never pay well and unless you can turn them over pretty fast, you're not going to get much out of it.
But when you get an email back from a fiction ed. saying, 'we love it but can you cut it, edit it, change the pace ...' - well, what's a perfectionist writer to do? You're halfway to a sale!
Two things - one, you are proving yourself to that editor, and getting yourself more work. Two, you are working on your craft and that's never wasted. Oh, and let's add three - when you're tired, it's easier to edit than to create from scratch!
So I always edit, no matter how long it takes. Finally sent off the rewrite yesterday and I thought it was notably better than my first go. My hero moved from the second page to make his initial appearance in paragraph three; and my emotional storyline was simplified.
My recent way of simplifying is to see the plot in scenes, as if it were a drama. You may have linking paragraphs, but if you try to squeeze too many scenes into a short story, it becomes confusing and bitty, too much of 'and then ... and then ...' So this story was reduced to three meetings between hero and heroine before the happy ending, even though the timeline covered several months and told us what happened for a year before.
Now to wait for the email of ... acceptance?
But when you get an email back from a fiction ed. saying, 'we love it but can you cut it, edit it, change the pace ...' - well, what's a perfectionist writer to do? You're halfway to a sale!
Two things - one, you are proving yourself to that editor, and getting yourself more work. Two, you are working on your craft and that's never wasted. Oh, and let's add three - when you're tired, it's easier to edit than to create from scratch!
So I always edit, no matter how long it takes. Finally sent off the rewrite yesterday and I thought it was notably better than my first go. My hero moved from the second page to make his initial appearance in paragraph three; and my emotional storyline was simplified.
My recent way of simplifying is to see the plot in scenes, as if it were a drama. You may have linking paragraphs, but if you try to squeeze too many scenes into a short story, it becomes confusing and bitty, too much of 'and then ... and then ...' So this story was reduced to three meetings between hero and heroine before the happy ending, even though the timeline covered several months and told us what happened for a year before.
Now to wait for the email of ... acceptance?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)