Jobbing Writing

I talked at length about this yesterday with my students. It is perfectly possible to make a living as a writer, love writing and still end up hating your work. You may be spending your time writing one thing when you’d rather be writing something else.

However, even when we get the dream commission, we have to write to the market. And it is indeed rare that any book gets past a skilled editor completely intact, and you wouldn’t really want a less skilled editor. There’s always some more tinkering to do according to somebody else’s will.

I’m probably grumpy about this at the moment because I’m writing something which is a little tedious. It’s a non-fiction book, a resource for teachers, in fact, and has to be in very plain English – with some French thrown in, and has repetitive patterns. And it is about something I believe in passionately.

I’m just at that point a little over half way through, where you still feel as if you’ve got a lot left to do. Plus I fell over the other day – tripped over thin air in fact –and now have a really colourful eye and a few sore parts elsewhere, all of which takes the edge off life . Plus having to explain to everyone what happened is another pain.

Then the magic kicks in, despite everything. You become absorbed in the work. It comes out well. You don’t want to stop when it’s time to go and do something else. You do have the self-discipline to get down to the work despite yourself, but it helps knowing that it will always work.

That, I guess, is jobbing writing.

Excellence in Writing

I think that is my bottom line. I am here to become the best writer I can ever possibly be. Anything else I do is really a distraction. I don’t think, though, that means writing solidly all the time. I definitely slow down after two hours / 2,000 words. I’m not sure I could actually do more in any one day. Work smarter, not harder has to be the answer.

Just how exactly does one do that in writing? Is it perhaps a matter of studying techniques more? More reading? More reading about what other writer have done? I lap that up anyway, don’t I? Full time.

Maybe it’s a matter of more focus. Well, I’ve certainly decided to do that. I have a day job which recognises my time as a writer and actually pays me in part for just being me. I’m very privileged and I’ll never forget that. I suppose I’ve earned it, but it didn’t feel all that tough, but when I look back, I realise I’ve come a long way. But there’s always further to go.

I’m currently reading Michael Morpurgo’s Singing for Mrs Pettigrew. It’s a collection of short stories, interspersed with details about how he came to write the stories. It almost seems like a book for children’s writers rather than a book for children. But it is, nevertheless, a book of excellent writing. Something definitely to aspire to.

Writer's Research

All sorts of things contribute to a writer’s research. Take this morning for instance. I took my usual trip into Radcliffe to pay cheques into the bank. I also picked up my father’s prescription from the doctor’s and took it to the pharmacy to have it put up. It would take twenty minutes. Time, then, also for a wander around the market and a coffee and book a hairdresser’s appointment.

I went to the black and white café. It’s clean. It’s smart. They do the normal range of coffees, but a little cheaper that Starbucks or Costa. The waitress, Radcliffe friendly as usual, dropped my biscuit and got me another. She showed me to a bench seat which could have seated two, but not four and the view to the square was enchanting. The window framed it and its clock and bandstand complied with the golden segment.

“I like your decorations,” I said.

The Christmas tree, and the black and white ornaments hanging from it and the ceiling went well with the rest of the décor and the view outside.

“I had to fight to get that one,” said the waitress (manageress? owner?)

I won’t tell the rest of the story. That’s one to be developed later, but it will be a good read.

See, all sorts of things count as writerly research.

Arriving

It’s such a welcome, the ugly sixties building with a view to the Pennines. You see, it’s only ugly form the outside. Being inside looking out is fine. And the Costa outlet provides the smell of cooking breakfasts at 8.45 in the morning. It is truly an affirmation that I survived the journey, despite ice on the car and traffic on the road. Not only have I survived it, I’ve enjoyed it too. The beautiful houses, the winding river, the skyscape, forgrounded by the top heavy Hilton and Classic FM on the radio.
I literally bounce up the stairs. I love my work, even though it’s never done and even when a thing is finished, it has generally taken more time that I’d thought it would.
I know I will walk through the door, turn on my computer, log on, go to the mailroom and check my post whilst my settings are loading, then come back and check my email. Nothing is a threat, all is fun, and all leads to job satisfaction.
Much of my day will be spent in writing or talking to colleagues or students about writing and with a bit of luck, a wing and a prayer, I’ll get my daily quota of writing done. What could be better than that?

Becoming a Publisher

That’s it, then. I’ve bitten the bullet. I am officially a publisher. I’ve been so pleased with Making Changes that I’m going to go for several more anthologies. The call for submission has gone out to my “Making Changes” authors. Over the next few days, I shall be getting it out to as many places as I can think of. I’m planning two more Christmas ones, making a CD of the first anthology, two summer ones, two autumn ones and two non-seasonal ones. I’m really hoping I can get one of my authors to work full time. This would mean making a profit of over £33,000. But with one book we’re taking about £1,000 per month. If we make several books, are we just spreading ourselves too thinly? Or will one book sell another?

It’s work I’m really glad to do. There is something exciting about producing a book. I could do it forever.

I wonder whether we’ll ever get round to publishing full length novels?

Making Changes and the Creative Café

Yesterday was the first day of our “Advent Calendar of Short Stories” – Making Changes. I read part of it at the Angel Café, Salford. There was an audience of about fifteen, which felt all right. Half were from the university. Half were from the café culture. I sold a couple of books as well. There was a nice atmosphere in there. It really is the right sort of place to make into a creative café.

There is also something incredibly satisfying about reading the anthology the way it was meant to be handled. A story a day keeps the doctor away. I think that works.

Writing Ghost Stories

I’ve been asked to write some ghost stories. This was quite a joy, or so it seemed at first. I found myself sitting in a café in Radcliffe, writing about the ghosts of Ordsall Hall, Ordsall, Salford. It is said to be the most haunted house in Britain.
Anyway, there I was, writing about the ghost of one Margaret Radclyffe. It felt quite right. There must be a connection between her and the town where I now live.
I’ve five stories to write. I’ve completed three, all from the point of view of the ghost. Two are even first person. One is a child and one is a man looking for his dog. Even the dog has a ghost. I have done the child – that is close third person. The man and the dog will be one story – close third person. Then I must tell how the spirits of the hall supported a friend and made her seem transparent.
I believe I have told the stories well, but are they the truth and will the ghosts be angry if they are not?