The Loneliness of the Long Distance Writer

White space

2011-10-15T19:08:00.000+01:00

I haven't abandoned this blog or anything but for a while I will be blogging here more often. Please do join me there. Pull up a chair and I'll make you a cuppa....

Mouthy Poets

2011-02-20T21:53:00.000Z

I'm not sure if I mentioned on this blog that I started working at Nottingham University at the beginning of this academic year. It's certainly a job that's been keeping me busy but I've really been loving it. The more I get to know my students, the more of their work I read, the more amazed I am with what they are capable of.

Mouthy Poets being a case in point. Run by the hard working and talented performance poet cum student cum teacher cum just about everything else, Deborah Stevenson, this is a project to help young people find their voices. And it certainly has. Their first public performance last night was Say Sum Thin at the Nottingham Playhouse and featured Inua Ellams. I have to admit that it isn't very often I'd be up for a scheduled three hours of listening to poetry. But Deborah had brought some of the Mouthy Poets to perform for us at our end of year show so I knew just how good they were. The night went by in a flash and I enjoyed every minute of the performances.

The show ran outside poetry into music, rap, dance, news report mock ups, an open mic session, art exhibition, craft shop and performers from a competition battling it out in the final. Every performance was vibrant and full of life in a way that is rare for a literary-based event. My only disappointment was that there weren't more people from the established Nottingham literary scene to see these young people perform. The room was full but they deserved an even bigger and wider audience.

And it astounds me to think that this was all dreamt up, organised, run and beaten into shape by Deborah, a twenty year old undergraduate. She is twenty one next month. Who knows what she'll do then. I don't but I have a prediction. More great things.

Creativity versus Language

2011-01-13T17:07:00.000Z

I read a very interesting article in the New Scientist recently about creativity. It's a fascinating subject, and one of the things I'm asked most about at author events. 'Where do you get the ideas from?' There's no easy answer. The article I read didn't really answer that question but it did raise some other rather pertinent ones, especially for a novelist.

In essence, the findings of a study found that the nerve centres in the brain responsible for creativity appeared to compete with those for language processing. Brain damaged patients whose language centres were affected by their accidents or illnesses were shown to have become more creative and original. To quote the researcher:

"Shamay-Tsoory says that while creativity is likely generated in the right side of the brain it may be suppressed by language processing on the left."

In other words, there's an inverse relation between how well your brain processes language and how original you are likely to be. The implications of that for a novelist is a little bit frightening. As a writer, you want to both be able to process language well and to be original and creative.

I began to think about whether this was borne out in the books market as we see it today. Thinking about commercial versus literary fiction, does this research fit with what we see? The more I thought about, the more I decided there was some kind of inverse relationship. Take Dan Brown. Whilst he did borrow some ideas and facts from The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail in writing The DaVinci Code it was, in fact, a very original novel. As are most of his others, if you analyse them closely, even though he often gets many of his facts wrong or stretches them to the point of incredulity. Still, someone stealing antimatter from CERN is something I find truly original, even if it's entirely infeasible. Opinions about books and the standard of writing of many authors varies hugely, with people having quite diverse opinions on many. Not so Dan Brown. It is a truth universally accepted by readers everywhere that his writing sucks on many levels.

Take a successful literary author, though. John Banville is possibly a good example, previous Man Booker winner for his book The Sea. The kind of book that people buy and never read. Why? Is the writing good? Crafted to within an inch of its life. The story?

"Led back to Ballyless by a dream, Max Morden is both escaping from a recent loss and confronting a distant trauma in the coastal town where he spent a holiday in his youth. The Grace family appeared that long-ago summer as if from another world. Drawn to the Grace twins, Chloe and Myles, Max soon found himself entangled in their lives which were as seductive as they were unsettling. What ensued haunts him for the rest of his years and shapes everything that is to follow."

So a bit of past secrets, memories of youth, escaping recent loss, confronting trauma. Original? Well, it's all sounding a bit Ian McEwan meets Kazuo Ishiguro to me right now. Interesting? I can't say I'm desperate to read about these unsettling twins. And, speaking of unsettling twins, are these a common theme in fiction at all? Hmmm... let me see. Her Fearful Symmetry, The God of Small Things, The Shining, The Thirteenth Tale, Atonement, The Secret History, Alice in Wonderland, Cutting for Stone,... I could keep going for a day and a half if I had more energy.

In short, I think there's something in it. I've found myself recently getting very bored of literary fiction and, at the same time becoming more and more interested in the stories I read in more commercial books. The books I've loved the most over the years have been the ones that have bridged the middle ground. Joanne Harris's Chocolat is a good example, where I find the language lovely and enchanting and the story equally satisfying.

What does it mean for me as a novelist? Well, I always try to find the story first and worry about the language after, so perhaps that's not a bad way to work after all. If nothing else, I think this is a good argument in favour of the commercial novel being of equal merit to the literary one. The snobbery that divides the two and looks down on one of these forms seems a shame to me; it always has. Surely we want originality in our lives as much as we want beautiful language? I know I do.

The August when I accidentally saved a bunch of people

2010-09-11T12:04:00.001+01:00

Nine years ago today, I woke up in a Chicago hotel room, turned on the TV and saw a plane sticking out of a building I'd worked in, right there on the screen in front of me.

I don't want to give anyone the wrong impression. I don't consider myself a World Trade Center survivor or someone who was especially close to the disaster, but it did touch the edges of my life and scare me half to death. I had been there, in that building, working, on several occasions over the summer months in 2001. When I woke up on that September morning, it wasn't 'some skyscraper in America' I was looking at. It was a place I knew. The first plane had hit just a few floors above where I'd stood and admired the view and told a colleague 'I want your office' and that very space was being engulfed by fire as I watched, and tried to work out which tower it was that had been hit, pretty sure I already knew. I remember moving around the room quite randomly, panicking, trying to decide what I needed to do. I needed to get in touch with home, that was for sure. My family knew I'd been working in the World Trade Center that summer. I'd mentioned it specifically when talking to my sister about her fear of lifts. Even though I was in Chicago at the time, they also knew I travelled round a lot and that I didn't always keep them totally updated as to exactly where I was. I guess that, for all anyone knew, Chicago could have been next on the list. There certainly are a lot of tall buildings there if you were that way inclined. So I needed to get in touch with my family, and I needed to get in touch with the office and I needed to get there, actually, to physically be at my office (even though I had recently left my job) and be with the people in America I was closest to, my friends Tim and Rebekah.

My first challenge was contacting home. This was before the days when you could use your mobile phone anywhere in the world. In fact, back in 2001 you could pretty much use your phone anywhere in the world except America. Mine had worked when I'd gone to Africa for a fortnight but, aside from a ten minute interlude in New York where I caught the edge of a GPS signal, it was a useless piece of plastic everywhere in the states. I'd never got round to getting one of the brick-like American 'cell' phones that made me laugh. I was staying in a hotel room as I'd recently left my job and the apartment they'd supplied with it and the phone there was good only for local calls. When I tried to ring my mum, it wasn't having any of it. A payphone then. Hmm.. Well, anyone who's ever tried to use a payphone to ring internationally in America knows how that works out. It doesn't. There are no dollar coins and you just can't put enough quarters in. I walked around Lincoln Park and tried one after another, getting nowhere.

I did manage to ring Rebekah. The news wasn't good. Most of our colleagues were accounted for but there were two people nobody could reach. I remember telling her that they'd be found. I could almost hear her biting her lip down the phone line as she said 'I'm not sure they will.' Something inside me was insistent about it, though. I don't know looking back if it was some kind of foresight or just sheer bloody mindedness. Perhaps it was wishful thinking because both people were colleagues I'd liked and respected. I was adamant, though, despite their office being on 86th floor. They will be found.

I decided to make my way to our Evanston office where my friends were, and where I might be able to get inside and make a phonecall. For a moment I wondered if travelling anywhere was the right thing to do. The news anchors were very clear that everyone should stay in their homes. But I would be travelling away from the centre of Chicago so surely that made sense? It was before the London tube bombings so that the idea of something happening on a train or the El did not even cross my mind. I needed to contact home and find my friends. Of course, the office was in a tower block so that, when I got there, no one was allowed in anyway.

I had to get in touch with home. Would anyone think to check their email? It was worth a shot. I managed to find an internet cafe and send a message and prayed that someone would get it. The cafe had a huge TV and you can guess what the live pictures were that were coming through. It was there that I saw the towers fall, one after another. It felt like the world was ending.

Finally, I found my friends Tim and Rebekah and we were able to spend some time together and talk about what was going on. Someone had got hold of some weed and we smoked it in a public park. It seemed a valid reaction at the time. There had been a miracle. The two 'missing' colleagues had been located. Despite their 86th floor location, no one we knew had died. It sounds silly looking back but, at the time, it felt almost as if I had willed it to be true. I know I had believed it when I told Rebekah they'd be okay. Under the circumstances, I don't know where that belief had come from. It was an amazing story. Bill Trinkle was on his way to a client site that morning, where he arrived to cheering and applause. He was an early starter and someone everyone was sure would be in the building. Judy, the receptionist, was in the lobby on her way up to work as the plane hit and was able to get out quickly. The New York office manager had fortunately decided to take his holiday that week. There was no management around and morale at the company was pretty low at the time so that no one else had quite made it in to work yet that day. There'd been some really horrible political stuff going on and lots of redundancies. It hadn't been pleasant at the time but now, we were all glad of it.

And I'd had a part to play in all this too. My friend Tim pointed out that I'd probably (entirely unwittingly) saved a whole bunch of my colleagues. It all revolved around that political stuff. There'd been a new president of the company brought in by one of the shareholders. This was a German guy who'd had quite a high profile in the industry in one way and another. It had been this guy who had brought me over from London to help him sort out the business and make some difficult decisions. But things hadn't gone well. Shareholder support had turned against him and his position was in jeopardy. We had a conversation one warm evening in August. He was on his way back from a long meeting at the office, I was on my way back from the bar I'd been drinking at with my friends and we collided in an alleyway near our apartment block. He told me they were planning to move him aside; that they'd offered him a job managing the New York office. He was trying to decide whether to take it or not. I knew straight away what I thought about this. I told him he should resign. It was about pride, in the end, I said. He nodded his head and went away to think about it. The next day, he did resign. He told my friend Tim that the conversation he'd had with me had been a big factor in his decision - that he'd been seriously considering accepting the job but that as soon as he heard me say this, he knew I was right.

If my boss had taken the job in New York, everything would have been different. He had a European banking mentality. That meant early starts and long hours. He would have almost certainly have been in his office that morning. And it's a bit like Bagpuss. If the manager is awake, all the others make sure they get there and sing like the mice on the mice organ. I suspect that most of my New York colleagues would have been there too. I'm not claiming any credit for saving their lives. It was a lucky accident. It did make me think, though. How every action, every tiny thing we do has the potential to have a huge effect on the people we know and ones we don’t as well. I just said what I thought. I can't envisage ever saying anything different in that situation. But if I had, the world would be totally different now to what it was like then. I might even have ended up in New York that day myself.

I often wonder about those crazy times in the autumn of 2001. I wonder how much we knew, somewhere, deep inside us about what was about to happen. It’s one of the times in my life that makes me consider the boundaries between past and future, and how solid they really are. I'd been keeping a journal, not something I generally do, and my entries from the few days before are strange. They talk about restlessness and strange atmospheres, the feeling of bad things on their way. They talk about changing my life. I'd had a good friend Kevin from England visit me the week before. He left the day before the attacks. He spent the entire time in Chicago telling me how scary the skyscrapers were and refusing to go up any of them. I remember laughing and telling him he should see the view from the World Trade Center. And I think of another story too, a writer I know whose first novel came out the year before mine did with the same publisher. His was about terrorist attacks in London. Its date of release? The 7th July 2005.

My memories of the World Trade Center itself are so tied up in what happened to it next that it’s impossible to separate the two. There was a tight security system that meant you needed to show your passport and have your photo taken before you were allowed in as a visitor, a system that never could have foreseen or done a thing about the attack that finally happened. I can still picture the lobby and the coffee shops downstairs, the doors and windows and desks and chairs and papers that I wrote on and left there, all up on the 86th floor.

Most of all I remember the people I got the lifts with. The people who worked above the 70th floor and who got the express ‘elevator’ first, before having to find the right lift to take them onward depending where exactly they worked. The people who probably died that day. I especially remember the first time I visited the building, when I stood around looking confused about where to go next as I got out on the 70th floor and a really kind man noticed and helped me out. I always wonder what happened to him. I hope he survived but, in my heart, just as sure as I was that Bill and Judy would be found, I'm certain that he wasn't so lucky. And he was kind to me. Needlessly kind, with no agenda, except that he could see that someone was lost. It's too sad to think about.

I used to think that what happened that day changed my life but, when I look back now, I wonder if it did. I was already changing my life. I was writing loads and had been looking into MA courses with serious intent. It perhaps propelled me faster in that direction but whether it truly changed anything I did is another matter. I know I went back to London and thought about getting another job in banking, but never quite got round to it. I went back to teaching instead, and then to Nottingham, to do an MA in Writing but also to my family. And I wonder about that decision because I remember the feeling I got that day nine years ago, a sense of everyone going home. Everything closed in and everyone reached out for the people they loved, getting there anyway they could, car, bus, train, feet. It wasn't as easy as that for me with airspace closed but it's interesting that, in the end, I found my way home too. I think that probably is significant but it's so hard to tell.

It's taken me nine years to write about this. Looking back now, it's hard to separate the way it felt then from the hazy glow of nostalgia that settles over it now. I've seen Bill Trinkle since and some of the other people from the New York office. They seemed happy. Super relaxed. I suspect that it did change their lives. But it's hard to remember how it really was that day, those few weeks before. Every interaction seems filled with meaning, every decision as important as Hell. I knew Bill and Judy would be all right. My sister just had a feeling about checking her email because I might try to get in touch that way. I'd been so certain that my boss shouldn't go to New York that the moment I told him so felt almost supernatural. But is that how it was?

I don’t know. All I know is how sad it still makes me when I think of all those people in my lift.

New courses

2010-08-16T17:04:00.000+01:00

I am running two courses in the next couple of months for those who are interested in improving their writing.

The first is part of the Nottingham Writers' Studio series of workshops and focuses on planning and developing your novel - where you go once you've got an idea, in other words. It runs all day on 25th September at the Nottingham Contemporary. For further details, or to book a place contact Robin Vaughan-Williams on admin@nottinghamwritersstudio.co.uk

The second is for writers much further down the line, those with well developed or finished novels looking to find an agent or publisher. The idea is to help writers make that jump from writing well to getting their writing noticed. Ahead of the course, each participant is asked to send their proposal document comprising three chapters, a synopsis and covering letter. The course will focus on these proposals, looking at the work that each individual needs to do to get the attention of an agent, and so has an element of manuscript reading built in. It will look at the actual projects, what changes might improve them or make them more marketable but it will also examine the wording of the proposal, and synopsis, to help the writer sell his or her novel more effectively. If I feel that individual projects would be of interest to agents I know then I may make recommendations for the writers concerned. This course will take place on 14th and 15th of October at Antenna in Nottingham. For further details, or to book, see http://gettingyourworkoutthere.blogspot.com/ or contact me direct.

Films

2010-06-28T22:34:00.002+01:00

Well, I promised some links. Here's the first one. DONKEY, directed by Deborah Haywood, written and produced by my good self.

http://www.virginmediashorts.co.uk/films/entry/344741/donkey

Things you should know...

2010-06-27T23:45:00.001+01:00

Starfishing is out in the USA now via the good people at Scribner. You can buy your copy in all the usual places. It is a rather sumptuous looking book, as the attached picture I hope demonstrates.

I also have a new Facebook page. There already was a community site here , which is basically mostly wikipedia stuff at the moment. I've set up my official page here so do go along and join, or should I say 'like' using the official FB lingo. I suspect I'll update this page much more regularly than this blog, so it's a better way of keeping in touch with what's going on.

I've been making films too. Oh yeah, I am a film producer, baby. Only very short films, but films nonetheless, and one of them is from a script what I wrote. It's the first time I've seen my work come to life like this and it's very exciting. We're going to enter them for the Virgin Media Shorts competition and try to win some money towards making a feature. It was a real eye opening experience and I was left with total respect for the job directors do, especially my main lady the super talented Deborah Haywood. I'll write more about all this when I have time and energy and the films should be online soon, so I'll send some links.

I also have a short story in the current edition of The Battered Suitcase, which can be read online or downloaded to your Kindle. You can also order a POD copy, I believe, but check the website for more details.

Don't mention the World Cup...

RIP Alan Sillitoe, a writer who reached across the generations

2010-05-04T15:05:00.002+01:00

It won't come as much of a surprise to anyone who knows me at all that the death of Alan Sillitoe last week came as a real blow to me. I didn't know Alan well, but we had met a few times and he'd been an enduring support to my career all the way. More than that, his books and writing were part of what inspired me to write in the first place. I can't express what his letters, quotes and general support meant to me.

The first time I met Alan Sillitoe was when I was revising for my 'O' level English. Not in person, but on the page, that most famous passage of Arthur's journey down the stairs used as an extract in one of the past papers we were looking at. I was immediately taken with his writing, with the fact it was Nottingham, proper Nottingham, the place I knew, and with the vivid scenes he painted. I had read a lot of Lawrence before this but had never come across Sillitoe. And so something began, something deep inside me about writing (which was something I'd always wanted to do) and about Nottingham too. It would take twenty years to develop into my first novel The Killing Jar but I believe that this moment is where the book began.

I finally met the man himself those twenty years on. It was at a production of the theatre adaptation of Saturday Night and Sunday Morning at Lakeside Arts Centre. We walked out so that Chad could smoke and, of course, Alan was also smoking. I didn't say much to him - just hello - but the timing felt significant. Just the day before, I'd received my first proof copy of The Killing Jar from Chatto. I wished I had it with me. It was the only copy of the book I had but I would have handed it to Alan there and then without a quiver of indecision. As it was, I stood with my husband and tried not to stare. Then a journalist walked over and began talking to Alan about the Arctic Monkeys and their use of his words in the title of their debut album Whatever people say I am, that's what I'm not.

It strikes me that this is something Alan Sillitoe did really well, reaching across the generations. Nottingham had become a very different place since he wrote SNSM but there was something essential about the book, about being young, about kicking out against the system. Something important. Not only had it spoken to me but to the even younger Arctic Monkeys and, when I did a search on MySpace, it seemed to a whole raft of other young men and women. Brilliant Nottingham Culture mag Left Lion quoted him too, choosing his words for their own motto: All the rest is propaganda.

Since then I've met Alan a number of times. The day I got my Betty Trask, when I finally did get chance to give him a copy of my book, which I was thrilled that he asked me sign, and put my address in so he could write to me afterwards. Write to me he did. In fact, we sparked up quite a bit of a correspondence for the next three and a bit years. His kind words about my writing will stay with me for a long time and his letters will be something I cherish until the day I die. I feel an immense sense of privilege to be able to pull them out from the safe place I keep them and see Alan's own handwriting telling me to 'keep on keeping on'.

I had a dream a couple of days after he died. I was living in a really run down house, a right hovel, with peeling wallpaper and bare pipes that leaked, nasty carpet with ground in dirt and Alan Sillitoe was coming to visit me there. I felt embarrassed. He was this great writer, and used to a bit of luxury, and here was I offering him a cup of tea in my dingy place. Of course, he didn't seem to mind. Then we went outside. The garden was massive, acres and acres of green stretching for miles and miles. I pointed it out to him. I told him about my plans for the wonderful things I was going to build on that land.

Sometimes I think the subconscious is the most beautiful thing in the world.

On writing a novel... quickly...

2010-03-11T19:24:00.001Z

I have finished my departure novel.

At the risk of inciting sickness, jealousy or furious ire, I'm going to admit here that the bulk of the novel was written in a week and half. I edited it over the course of two days and then I sent it to my agent. We've now spoken about a couple of minor revisions and he's sending it out next week to editors.

I posted word counts as I went on Facebook and was told off by a friend for making it all sound too easy. In fact, this friend and I, we used to joke all the time about the adverts you saw in magazines like Writers' News that began with the headline 'Why not be a writer?' as if it was as easy as having the idea. We used to talk about one particular aspiring friend who was bashing out the words like nonsense and we suspected was looking round the room shouting 'Look no hands!' as she did it. And that's probably the way I looked when I was writing this novel.

The thing was, thanks to new and consuming work commitments, I had a short time horizon to get a draft out. It was that week or probably not at all. So I set myself a daily word count target of six thousand words that even I found ridiculous. Then the first day, I wrote them. And the second day, I wrote them. Three days in and my draft had doubled in size. The next day, I was halfway there. There was something incredibly refreshing about getting through the project so quickly. There were other advantages too; It was easy to keep the story in my head, to remember where I was and what the characters had done.

Don't get me wrong, the actual writing I did in that week and half was really the conclusion of lots of work I'd done on the project. I'd planned the book meticulously, thought about it at length, talked it out to my most trusted writing allies. I had read around, finding every similar novel I could get my hands on and reading it, revisiting others that I'd read years before but wanted to have more fresh in my mind. In the background, I had done all my homework so that when it came to writing the book, it flowed, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

So, no, it isn't that easy to write a novel. That said, the process made me think a little. As a touring writer, I hear the same things again and again when I go to meet readers. These vary from generic questions (Where do you get your ideas from? What are your writing habits? Do you use a computer or write it longhand with a pen?) to specific ones about my books (What happened to Jon? What was it Kerrie found in the outhouse?) to wistful statements about the art of writing. (I'd love to write a book, What a marvellous thing to have done, I've always wanted to write a book.)

It's the last of these that came to mind after I'd finished my draft of this novel. I've always wanted to write a book. I remember once mentioning to an acquaintance I bumped into on the tube 'I want to write' and his counter 'Who doesn't?' and he was so very right, I've worked out now.

So who does write? What makes the difference? I can only say what I say to anyone who comes out with this statement and their wistful far away eyes. Do it. It possibly sounds trite and simplistic, but I really believe that's all you need to do. Put one word in front of another, hold your breath and write until you get to the end. (By trial and error I have found that for me it's better to have some idea where I'm going before I start out. Although, I've also found that the only way to learn how to write a novel is to try it and fail a few times...)

An English teacher I worked with years and years ago, one of the crowd who'd gone into teaching because of Dead Poet's Society and been sorely disappointed in leaky, crumbling comps, he once told me that he thought I lived by the film's motto and did seize the day. I wasn't sure at the time; mostly I thought I lived day to day and didn't think too carefully about anything but, in hindsight, he might have had a point. I surprised myself in the last few weeks. I decided I was writing the novel quickly, and I wrote it. Quickly.

I hope that I don't come across as arrogant on this post or you think I'm showing off. That would mean I haven't got my point across very well at all. Really, I want to stress that, whilst it might not be easy, writing a novel is possible. It really does get done one word at a time.

Right. I want you all standing on your desks with a fist to your chest. Come on! Carpe Diem you lot!

Authors' Club First Novel Award Event

2010-02-24T13:56:00.000Z

The Authors' Club First Novel Award lastest shortlisted writers will be talking about their work at Waterstone's in Piccadilli later this month. I won this prize a couple of years ago and I have to say it's one of the nicest things that has happened to me since I got published in 2006. The event should be a good un so do get in touch with Waterstone's direct to book your tickets.

I'd like to see David Attenborough cover this one...

2010-02-21T19:30:00.000Z

I came across something quite bizarre in my most recent spate of research for the novel I am writing. I needed to find out more about poisonous mushrooms, and so I did a few searches on google to see what I could find.

Well, one of the searches on 'deadly poisonous' came up with Fly Agaric, which surprised me somewhat as I knew this mushroom was taken as an hallucinogenic and, as far as I was aware, people didn't tend to die from taking it. A little further investigation revealed the the poisons lost their potency, although none of their hallucinogenic properties, upon drying and treating in various ways.

I couldn't help but wonder how people found this out, and how they ever knew it might be safe to eat Fly Agaric, so I dug a little deeper. What I discovered was the most fascinating symbiosis of man and animal, both in search of the ultimate high.

It all started with reindeer junkies. Yep, it's official, reindeer love a bit of fly agaric. They will hunt it out and can sniff it from several kilometres away. In fact, the easiest way, apparently, to attract deer to an area is to put down some cut up Fly Agaric and they will come running. And jumping. Because one of the effects of these mushrooms on the deer is that they get very energetic, and jump around, much higher than they usually would.

Where do the people come in? Well, apparently, indigenous laplanders would watch the reindeer as they ate the mushrooms and pranced and danced, and they wanted some of it. They knew the mushrooms eaten raw could be poisonous so instead of eating them themselves, they fed them to the deer and drunk the deer's urine.

I'm still trying to picture the first time this happened. How could it possibly have gone? Well, mate, I think if we drink their wee we might get quite high. Okay, yes, let's give it a go. Hmmm... Not sure. But apparently that was what happened and the Lapps got high too.

The next bit is priceless. You know how Santa has a sleigh, right, and how it's pulled by flying reindeer? Well... It's thought that this entire picture came from hallucinating Laps, watching hallucinating reindeer jump really high and seeing them fly off into the night. I love that in and of itself but there's still more. The crafty deer didn't leave it at that, with the laps drinking their wee and having all the fun. Oh no. When their partners in crime urinated on the snow, the deer ate that, thus completing a very neat, trippy circle of high and making the most of the harvested mushrooms.

Sometimes you really couldn't make it up.

Long time no blog

2010-02-15T15:21:00.000Z

Well, it has been a while since I last blogged. In my defence, I have been ridiculously busy since Christmas. New job, two novels to write, readings to prepare. I did promise to keep you updated on the double book chase so here goes. Familiar Friend is lagging well behind at just 8850 words for the moment. This is mostly because I want to take my time with this book, make it as good as I can. I'm waiting until I have more time for it.

Departure Dan, though, has taken on a life of his own. I've been quite surprised how the story, planned chapter by chapter from day one, has decided it knows better than me where it should go. I always find there is a moment in writing a novel when everything begins to slot together, and make lots more sense than you thought it ever could, and I've found this moment feels closer on this first draft than it ever has at this stage with my previous books. I'm writing at a rate of knots right now, and have got about 15000 words down in the last few days. Altogether now, I have just under 40 000 words, about half way there.

My next event is at Beeston Library next Monday, 22nd February, where I will be reading from one of my favourite books of all time Sillitoe's Saturday Night and Sunday Morning. See the flyer below for more details.

Right, back to Desperate Dan. I mean Departure Dan... That book I'm writing anyway.

Happy Christmas and all that....

2009-12-24T22:55:00.000Z

A little note to wish all you lovely boggers out there a very Merry Christmas, as well as a happy and prosperous New Year. I hope to blog a little more regularly again soon. I promise to try.

I will be making no New Year resolutions because I don't believe in them. I do have a few wishes for the New Year, though.

1. For COD Modern Warfare 2 to be changed overnight so that the guns make tinkly music sounds instead of blast and the bombs explode to the sound of Karma Charmeleon.

2. For my husband's sideburns to grow even more bushy and look even more like baby hedgehogs.

3. For more people to say things like this about my books. (Thank you Debi. I know it's all heartfelt but it means a LOT to me that you took the time to say it.)

That's about it really. See you in 2010. (How are we supposed to say this date. Twenty ten - which sounds a bit like cricket - or two thousand and ten? Neither seems to trip off the tongue.)

Time to wrap things up now. In more ways than one.

Nicola x

Two novels...

2009-11-28T20:51:00.000Z

I'm in the middle of an interesting writing experiment, which is one of the reasons I haven't blogged for so long. I've been working on a new novel. In fact, I've been working on two new novels. One of them is recognisable territory for me. A certain city, a particular lifestyle. Maybe even a couple of familiar characters. The second one is a bit of a departure. I'm enjoying departing. It's always fun to try new things.

The newest thing of all is that I am writing them both at the same time. Having a go at each in turn depending on how I'm feeling at the time. I've planned them both, one in more detail than the other but, then, that's the departure and it's the kind of book that needs more structure. I've started writing both too. I'm expecting both to round off somewhere near the one hundred thousand word mark. To top it all, I've just started a new and intense job that is extremely worthwhile and, at the same time, very challenging. This is emotionally rewarding work and I am glad I'm doing it but, at the same time, it has wiped me out this last week and I was quite unwell by Friday.

So, that's the experiment. Can I in and out of two extremely different novels without either of them suffering at the same time holding down a real job in the real world? As far as the writing goes, so far, so good, but it's such early days that I'm not submerged in either yet, and not taken over by the characters and their stories. Maybe it will take longer for that to happen, a bit like the way a child growing up bilingual takes longer to learn to talk in either language. The thing about a child growing up bilingual, though, is that she will have a better command of language in principle in the end, when she learns to talk, and find learning new tongues much easier than the average person.

I watched with interest this November's National Novel Writing Month and nearly joined in but wisely changed my mind at the last moment. I did think it might be motivating to have something going on that tracks my progress, though, so I've decided to blog my word counts.

Let's call my new novels Familiar Fred and Departure Dan, for the sake of this exercise. Here are the scores on the doors.

Familiar Fred 7235
Departure Dan 2419

A domain mes amies. Or perhaps a few days after... If I ever have the energy to blog again, that is.

The Hockley Hustle

2009-10-19T20:26:00.001+01:00

Am appearing in the Left Lion spoken word event again, this time at the Hockley Hustle. This one's not free, but the tickets you buy gives you an armband for access to all the events, and it's for charity.

Murder, Madness and Fantasy....

Celebrating the last day of summer, LeftLion presents their darkest spoken word event yet. From 4pm – 8pm they’ll take you to the oddities of the Victorian freak show, down the cold clean corridors of the mental asylum, across time, space and galaxies and then back for one final fantasy you’ll never forget...

Final Fantasy
7.40 +: Al Needham (Todger Talk)

Speculative Fictions
6.50 – 7.30: Damien Walter (Guardian blogger) in conversation with Mark Charan Newton (Nights of Villjamur)
6.20 – 6.45: James Johnson (erth chronicles)

Madness and Murder
5.50 – 6.10: Nicola Monaghan (The Killing Jar, Starfishing)
5.10 – 5.50 Ann Featherstone (Walking in Pimlico) in conversation with Rod Maddocks (No Way to Say Goodbye)

Myth, Magic and Mayhem
4.40 – 5.00 Aly Stoneman and Milk
4.20 – 4.40 King Henry (England, my England)**
4.00 – 4.20 Joss Ink – (Leading a Horse to Water)

**Extreme content warning, imagine P G Wodehouse with turrets...

The Circus versus The Fair.

2009-10-04T22:57:00.000+01:00

'It's not fair!' I used to moan at my mum when I was a little girl, in that annoying, whiny voice kids use when they want something, the kind of voice that makes you want to give them anything they say if they'll just stop. 'It's not fair till October,' my mum used to say. That used to be true when I was little. And when October came and you went to the fair, made yersen sick with too much candy floss and mushy peas (an appetising mix) and then the waltzers, your head snapping back as they went too fast and you screamed to make them go faster. You came away wearing your Kiss me Quick hat feeling nauseous, worn out and completely satisified with your lot.

These days, though, I don't know. Me and the dear husband have a bit of a problem with the fair in October, the Goose Fair. I mean, it looks kinda pretty, from the road at night with all the lights on, and there are a few rides that look kinda impressive. I noticed this time round some contraption of flying swings that went way higher than any similar fairground attraction I've ever seen, as well as a log flume and a smallish rollercoaster, all really a mile away from the big wheel and Wall of Death that were the highlights of my teenage fairs.

The problem for me starts when you walk down Gregory Boulevard or any of the surrounding streets. There's a lack of atmosphere. There's a lack of, well, a lack of much sign that you're approaching the fair. The side shows and fortune tellers used to run all the way down the boulevard, and lots of the other surrounding streets, but they just don't anymore. Maybe these kinds of attraction just don't get the punters in anymore, but it doesn't feel like Goose Fair with so few of them.

It doesn't get better as you walk inside. For me, these days, there's just something missing from Goose Fair. A vital thing, like a heart or a soul. It feels dead inside, and smaller than it used to. That could be the difference in my relative size but I don't think it is. I've been there as a teenager and as an adult. I believe it genuinely is smaller than it used to be. And don't get me started on the prices, or the rip off stalls where you are guaranteed a prize, but it never turns out to be one of the massive, great stuffed Disney cuddlies on display... There's inflation, and then there's taking the piss.

This year, we went to the circus instead. That is, the Circus Extravaganza organised by Left Lion. This event was free. Yeah, you heard right. Free. It didn't cost a thing. To be honest, I couldn't really go to Goose Fair instead because I was signed up to read at the spoken word. But that's not the point.

I was really glad we went to the circus instead of Goose Fair. We hung around for the entire spoken word event. It was by far the best event of its type I've been involved in. I read with a lovely young lady, and a fabulous writer, Megan Taylor, and we had conferred beforehand so that we chose pieces with a certain synergy. I shared a new story, one that no one had read or workshopped. It was a dark story about childhood, and some of the daft things adults tell kids. It seemed to go down well. After this there was some fabulous poetry, including the beautiful Aly Stoneman, accompanied on guitar by her friend Milk. After this Al Needham interviewed Rebecca Dakin, author of The Girlfriend Experience. Somehow I knew Nottingham's Mr Sex would find the right questions to ask, and he didn't let us down. Rebecca came across as bubbly and very genuine, and we bought the book.

The event climaxed (a good word under the circumstances) with a reading by Al of extracts from his award winning blog Todger Talk. It were mint, as our Al would've said. It was all bloody funny, but the highlights for me were this little peach, and then this one, which was his closing shot, if you'll pardon my exact choice of words, under the circumstances. Brilliant. I can't wait for Al's book, which he bloody well better write or I'll send some of me mates from Broxta after him.

We left all this behind and went out looking for a good band. We were spoiled for choice, with stuff going on at all the pubs in the area. We were also lucky enough to catch Shop's dead celebrity reinactment of the Thriller Video. It's not every day you get to see Michael Jackson, Freddy Mercury, Kurt Cobain, Audrey Hepburn, Heath Ledger and Marilyn Monroe, amongst others, dancing together on the streets of Nottingham. You definitely wouldn't get it at the fair. It was class. (And they knew all the moves.)

Perhaps the best thing about the entire evening was the way it felt around Canning Circus. There was a real sense that there was something special going on. A proper atmosphere. You wouldn't get that at Goose Fair either.

Nice one Left Lion crew. You did real good.

The funniest thing I have EVER seen on TV

2009-10-03T00:55:00.000+01:00

I'm sure it will be no surprise to readers of this blog that I tuned in to Derren Brown tonight. I'm left, well, laughing all the way to my keyboard. Derren's deadpan 'Oh, one out.' The face of the man whose money's on the table, clearly utterly convinced that the ball's going to somehow jump over the divide in the roulette wheel yet, because Derren Brown wouldn't mess up on this scale. The production assistant, standing outside the trailer with a giant cheque at the ready for a hundred and eighty grand and the way he walks up, gingerly. 'Don't worry mate, we'll get your five grand back.' The silence as the series peters out could almost define dramatic anticlimax. It brought to mind the ending of The Blair Witch Project.

Of course they'll get his five grand back because they ain't gambled it away in the first place. Derren Brown ain't been nowhere near no casino tonight, not unless it was after the show in his own time. I know Casinos and I'm telling yous; that was a Channel Four studio 'somewhere in Europe', or a Casino they'd borrowed and closed for the evening.

For starters, it was too quiet and empty. There was no sound of other gamblers, of other roulette wheels, or cards being shoed or shuffled. Sure, it could have been a small casino but the problem with that is there was no evidence whatsoever, either visual or audio, of slot machines. They ain't not one casino in the world that don't got slot machines, girlfriend, and they make noise and flash lights all the time to try to hypnotise you and get your money (not unlike Derren Brown). There were no croupiers rushing past, or people serving drinks, and none of the small trolleys you get given as a punter to put your drinks on. You don't stand at a table with holding your wine glass while you play. You don't change your chips when you're putting them all on the same number. You don't walk around holding your sleeves up to stuff so the hidden camera can catch it. Well, not unless you fancy getting taken away and being beaten up in the basement.

Then there's the size of the bet. Five grand on a single number? Casinos risk manage their exposure. You don't just walk over to a table and put that much cash on the nose of a 35 to 1 payout without the pit boss having a look see if he's happy. At least, you don't unless you're in Aspinall's or one of the other super exclusive casinos on Curzon Street. And the thing about those Casinos is that A. you have to be a multi-millionaire to join (although mebbe our Derren's been playing the lottery) and B. you have to get a personal invitation by someone who's already a member. And like even if Derren did all that, they're gonna let him join, four weeks after the TV schedule announces he's going to bring the place down? Yeah, right, whatever.

It almost goes without saying at this stage that Derren's explanation of how he did it was complete rubbish. Brown claimed tonight to be able to assess two different speeds going in opposite directions by tapping his feet to their different rhythms. Hello? Anyone here ever tried to rub their stomach and pat their head at the same time? Well this would be harder, you'd have to do it faster, then apply a load of complicated calculations and take into account rebounds and bounces on the wheel. And all that in the few seconds you've got between the croupier spinning the wheel and you putting your chips down. Derren's clever and quick. He ain't a computer. Add to this the fact that there's a camera in Derren's sleeve, he is tapping *both* of his feet but at slightly different rhythms and yet we don't see its picture (or our Derren for that matter) shake any more than it was doing before. He would also have looked mighty strange while he carried out this little trick. If you don't believe me stand up and try tapping both your feet. Hmmm...

So, if what I say is true and it's all a big set up, why on earth not just go all the way and get the number exactly right?

Well one big reason springs to mind right away. If he did that, he'd have had to give Ben that blooming great cheque. There's a second thing too. By getting the figure one out, he makes the trick more believable. People think he came so close to pulling it off, and assume that if he was cheating he'd have got it exactly right so that he must be telling the truth. Paul Daniel's even suggested Derren should get one of the lottery balls wrong, for this exact reason.

But it was well done and it was funny, I'll give him that. I suspect there will be some kind of link between The Events and Derren's next series, where he'll be scam busting. Starting with his own scams mebbe? Just a hunch.

I'm going to miss my Friday nights with Derren and the vampires. And the bastards, they killed Lafayette.

Circus Tricks.

2009-10-02T20:33:00.000+01:00

Am at the circus tomorrow. No elephants that I know of, just Left Lions. If you can make it over this way, should be a peng night. And it's free.

My event kicks off at the Hand on Heart at ten to five and other writers are reading there from four. I'll be reading new stuff and everything, as well as some old fave passages from that Killing Jar book what I wrote. There's comedy, music, all sorts all at pubs with easy reach of each other around the Canning Circus area, so you don't even have to walk very far.

Hope to see yer there.

While we're talking Left Lion, there's a lovely new Write Lion podcast too, featuring yours truly and a whole host of other Nottingham folk what like their pens. Check it out.

The allure of possibility versus the science of probability.

2009-09-22T01:48:00.000+01:00

What with all this Derren Brown stuff and that, I've been thinking a lot recently about the Lottery, about casinos, about the games of chance we play with our money and why we do it.

The Lottery is probably the most extreme example. The chances of winning the jackpot are remote and, in fact, a single line is not terribly likely to win any prize. 'It could be you' approximately one out of fourteen million times. An averagely healthy middle aged man has a higher chance of dying in the hour before the draw takes place than he does of winning the jackpot. Flush a pound coin down the loo and you have more chance of seeing it again than winning the lottery had you bought a ticket with it. You are almost as likely to find a winning lottery ticket on the floor as you are to win with one you've bought. Etc etc. So why do people play this game at all? And don't make me laugh and tell me it's for the 'good causes'.

I decided to take this a stage further and do a few sums.

Let's take what I'd say was a fairly average lottery scenario. I personally rarely put my hard earned cash into the hands of Camelot, but I know plenty of people who spend much more than the example that follows.

So, let's say Joe Blow plays Lotto twice weekly (after all, what if you didn't put your numbers on and they came up?) and buys 5 lines. He also puts 5 lines on Euromillions, and buys a couple of £2 scratchcards a week. So we're not talking an addict by any stretch, but just someone who thinks 'It bleddy well won't be me if I don't get a ticket.'

If you total that up, we've got £21.50 a week. That doesn't sound too bad, does it? It's not exactly breaking the bank...

Well, unless you think about the other stuff you could do with that cash. Total it up over the course of a year and it comes to £1118, which is actually quite a lot of money.

How much is Joe Blow likely to win?

Well, the chances per line of winning the Jackpot are 14 million to one, and five numbers plus the bonus one in about two million. Even getting four numbers is a one in over a thousand shot. The chance of winning a tenner is 1 in 57. On that basis, with his tenner a week, our Joe can expect (theoretically) to hit his three numbers and win a tenner 9.12 times a year, and his four numbers once every two years - coming to a grand total of about £123/year. He can expect to win the jackpot or any of the big prizes, well, quite a bit less than once in his entire life. He's spending £520 each year, so that means he's losing about 76% of the money he puts down. Sure, we can add the bigger prizes to the mix but they make very little difference, being so unlikely. So I reckon we can safely say Joe's going to lose about 75% of the money he spends on the lottery, over time. If this was a casino game, we'd say the house edge was 75%.

There would be slightly different numbers for Euromillions and for scratchcards, of course, but it's after one in the morning now and I ain't looking them up and working them out. I suspect the scratchcard figures will be significantly better, and the Euromillions ones, worse. Just a guess...

When you think about it, there are so many better ways to spend that £21.50 a week. You could keep a teenage girl
or store your car in a 'Insulated, Secure, Dehumidified controlled environment', have your own, year round pitch at a caravan site in Newquay. You could give it all to good causes, instead of the twenty odd percent passed over by Camelot.

You could even invest it. Sure, you don't get the heart stopping flurry of watching the draw with the ticket in your hand. However, putting it in a savings account, for example, would get you about 3% pa on your money, making you an extra approximately £16.60 a year (based on putting the money in every week and not making any withdrawals) and, of course, you get to keep the £1118 you've saved as well. And you could invest in stocks, shares or property and get a better return. Well, not based on recent form, of course. (Investments can go up as well as down, none of the information here constitutes investment advice just a few facts and figures yadda yadda...)

You would even be better off heading down the casino with this money. There are lots of casino games, if you know the correct strategy for playing them, with relatively low house edge. For example, if you play perfect strategy Blackjack (something you can learn and that is well documented on the interweb) over time, you should lose about 0.5% of your money. So you get to keep 99.5%. There are other slot and Casino games where the house edge is less than 5%. Considerably better than the lottery, when you look at that way. (Remember, equivalent to a house edge of about 75%!)

So, in short, you'd be better off saving up that £21.50 and taking the whole lot (plus your £16.60 interest) down the casino one night every year, and having a good ole time on the Blackjack table.

But, of course, it *could* be you. And we all know why people play, really. Life changing amounts of money is why. Like the Euromillions last week with a jackpot of £83 000 000. Hell, despite knowing everything I've just typed, I bought a couple of tickets. The prize money was too much to ignore, even though I knew just how unlikely it was that it would ever be mine.

And that's the weird thing about the lottery. Because, despite being rather reticent to give Camelot my hard earned cash over the years, I find myself in profit so far. I haven't entered more than about thirty times since that first draw in 1994 when I had my first lottery win.

Let me take you back in time.... imagine swiggly lines making the screen go all misty... and then you see me. it was November and the nights were closing in. There I was, slim and young and hopeful, just 23 and so soon out of a mathematics degree that I should have known better, sat on the sofa at my mum's house with my first ever lottery ticket (one line) in my hot little hands.

The first number came out. It was 30. It was on my ticket. The second number came out. It was on my ticket. The third number came out. It was on my ticket.... My heart was beginning to beat rather fast at this point.

By the time the draw had finished I'd found out I was one in a million.

Well, one of 1,073,695 people who'd won a tenner. Fancy that, and the first three numbers as well. I realised that no other lottery draw would ever match the excitement of that first one, well, unless of course the second half of the draw lived up to the promise of the first, and I so I've never watched a live draw since. Well, not until that evil bad man Derren Brown did his naughty prediction show.

Still, I did go on to have a lucky run. Over the course of the next several months, I only entered a (lucky) seven times. I lost three times and won a tenner three times. Then, as part of a family syndicate, I won about £50. I decided to quit while I was ahead.

I've bought only a few tickets a year since and won another tenner, and fifty something on the Euromillions, so I reckon I'm probably still slightly in profit. I also know two people who have won life changing amounts of cash. But then, I know a lot of people.

None of that changes a thing. I am an outlier and still insist, despite my experience, that there are much better ways to play with your hard earned cash.

But, of course, "It could be you."

Good luck with that one.

Destined for all this writing...

2009-09-19T21:57:00.002+01:00

As suggested by Tricki in some of the comments below, I've got some extracts from my work up on the net. Do take a look here if you're interested in reading more.

Did he stick you to your seat?

2009-09-18T23:48:00.005+01:00

For those who didn't have chance to watch it, here's what Derren Brown did on the telly tonight. But don't get too excited/worried about getting stuck to your chair if you watch it. He said right off that it wouldn't work ont tinterweb.

It didn't work for me.

I did watch the film. It made my vision go a bit milky but that's all. The music was a bit creepy but fneh. I don't believe for a second that one minute of a white flickery screen stuck anyone to their anything. What's the word I'm looking for? Misdirection.

There was no chance of me sticking to my chair. It was just never going to happen. I wasn't the 'best' at being 'talented enough at being susceptible'. Nor was I the right mix of 'creative' and 'special'. Oh, the power of suggestion.

All that said, I felt an almost overwhelming desire to ring in and say something stupid, as did my husband.

And I have to admit that I'm beginning more and more to feel that I have been manipulated somewhere along the way. I've never been a Derren Brown fan - not that I dislike him but I've never actively been very bothered about what he does - and yet, this last week, I've added him as a friend on Facebook and started following him on Twitter, as well as checking out relevant forums and blogs on the subject of Derren Brown.

There are some very interesting theories and thoughts in the comments on my previous posts and I thank all those that have taken the time to read my blog and comment. One of these theories is that 'The Events' is not about the actual events at all, but much more about us interacting with them, turning them into something bigger. One commenter points out that some of Derren's words in the first show were almost a 'call to arms' to us to join in and make these illusions into something bigger. From what I've experienced, that makes total sense.

So I wasn't stuck to my sofa today. But I was sat on it, watching. I take it all back. That's pretty impressive Derren and I must be cool, clever and talented enough to be susceptible after all. Go me!

A personal thank you to Derren Brown

2009-09-13T13:47:00.008+01:00

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Derren Brown for increasing the readership of my blog by, well, quite a lot. Actually, it's not really his doing, to be honest. I wrote a wish on a piece of paper and put it in my pocket. If anyone asks me, I'll say it was a trick...

I'd also like to point out to the new readers of this blog, who may or may not have spotted book launch photos on the right hand side from a few years ago, that I am thinner now.

And, while, I'm here, I'll just announce the next part of Derren's trick before it comes to light by itself. By showing a (bogus) method to the world on Friday suggesting that, if only we get together in groups of 24, do automatic writing and average out the numbers, we too can win the lottery (forgetting the small fact, of course, that he didn't) I'm guessing he may have set something in motion. I'm guessing that enough people will have seen and believed it, or think, what the hell that they'll actually get together in groups of 24 and give it go. There will probably be a significant number of these groups set themselves up and try to win using the wisdom of the crowd.

Of course, one of them will...

PS See this blog here for yet more evidence of misdirection by Derren Brown. Derren Brown fixed the lottery. Yeah, right. His second explanation was just as likely as his first one. ie absolute nonsense. Still, interesting that he showed the studio audience extra footage. I bet he didn't expect them to talk about that on blogs, facebook or to their families and friends, did he? Lmao.
PPS. My husband just won twenty quid on a scratchcard and gave it to me. Bless...

UPDATE: 15th September. Do a search on Facebook for "Derren Brown Lottery" and see the groups beginning to proliferate there along the lines of 'Let's predict the lottery Derren Brown stylie'.

Events of misdirection....

2009-09-11T23:21:00.003+01:00

Derren Brown. Manipulator. Misdirector. Liar? I won't say some of the other words I've seen friends and family use about him tonight. They're too rude.

What I will say is this. I think everyone's been focusing the last two days on 'how he did it' when, in fact, what we saw on Channel 4 on Wednesday was a simple illusion that Paul Daniels could have pulled off. Smoke and mirrors, camera trick, spilt screen, LED balls, time delay, who cares? However he did it, it was dead simple. As I said at the time on my Facebook status:

"Derren Brown lmao. He shows us his numbers *after* the BBC and everyone's amazed? That's not a prediction... Interested to see how he did it, except that the whole thing reeks of much simpler illusion than I thought it would be.... Paul Daniels could have pulled off that one."

Now, Brown always said his events would be events of misdirection. I think he's misdirected us entirely here. He's got the entire nation focused on a simple illusion, one that was, frankly, below him, when in fact his real trick was performed tonight. He convinced 24 people in the studio, and countless in homes around the country, that the way he did this was using 'deep maths' and 'the wisdom of the crowd'. He even showed us everything on video to 'prove' it.

For those who didn't see, Brown got a group of 24 people in a room together and got them to predict the lottery numbers. They were rubbish to begin with, getting just one right between them. He went through various iterations of the experiment. Taking the average of each number in the individual predictions - not much better. Then he got them to predict but stay in the room until after the draw so they couldn't profit from their predictions, removing greed from the equation. He sent them team building. He had them guess their numbers and averaged them again. Finally, he had them do automatic writing and, again, calculated the average of the numbers. It seemed the team got better and better. Some goes in, they even got 4 balls correct. Finally, they appeared to predict the numbers for last week's lottery. They were incredibly pleased with themselves and you could see it was genuine. It was almost convincing.

Appeared to predict. Almost convincing. As much as I'd love to believe 24 people in a room could work together and genuinely guess the National Lottery numbers, I'm afraid I can't. I don't have to think very hard to know this isn't true. It's all an illusion.

It was interesting, the way Mr Brown carried out that final prediction. The group did their automatic writing and wrote down their numbers again. This time, Brown calculated the averages. Without showing the group, he wrote them on the balls, sealed them in a tube and went on his way to the Channel Four studio. The rest is history. The group of 24 watched live and celebrated their victory. It was clear they believed.

But they hadn't seen those numbers on Derren's balls (oooer missis, sorry, couldn't help myself) until the show. Until after the actual lottery draw. Just like the rest of us. They had only seen the automatic writing they'd put on their own pieces of paper and would have had no clue what these would have averaged out at...

But how did they manage to get three numbers right, then four? We know this bit is genuine. We see their numbers being collated and averaged, right in front of us and them. On one occasion, a member of the group does the calculations and, on others, independent observers do. What happened with their previous predictions is still pretty unlikely, right? So why not believe they actually did produce the numbers Derren took into the Channel Four studios with him?

Well, yeah, it's quite unlikely they would improve over the weeks. Fairly unlikely they would ever predict four out of six numbers at the end of a number of weeks of trying. But not nearly as unlikely as guessing all six. (Reminder for those who can't remember - 14 million to 1!)

I suspect there were several groups being filmed like the one we saw tonight, going through the same kind of experiment. They did the team building, they did the automatic writing. Derren didn't know which would provide the right footage but he knew chances were that one of them would. The 24 people we saw today were the most successful of the groups and used to try to convince us that there was more to this illusion than we could possibly understand.

The real trick was to get us staring at the screen on Wednesday, finding clips on YouTube in the two days since, submitting to forums with all our theories and ideas. When the truth was, he never predicted a thing.

My favourite twitter through the whole event came from Derren himself.

"#derrenbrown is/was at the top of Twitter trends. This is very new to me. I'm not really dressed for it. Thank you, very kind. Xx" 5:57 PM Sep 10th TwitterFon

Really Mr Brown? So you can predict the Lottery numbers on live TV but not that you're going to be the biggest trend on Twitter the next day? Man, I could have told you that!

And the best Facebook update came from my mate Dex.

"Well I thought I'd give it a go. Did 10 minutes of automatic writing but all I could get was a stream of profanity and "Kill smug twat" over and over."

Derren Brown says that next week he will glue us to our sofas using hypnosis. Come on Derren, don't make me laugh. To be fair, you did that already this week. But never again....

How did he do it?

2009-09-10T11:07:00.003+01:00

If you don't know what I'm talking about then I can only assume that you A. have been gravely ill or asleep for more than 48 hours, B. took a trip to another solar system last night or C. are not from the UK and no one else is bothered. But that's okay, because you can watch the footage of Derren Brown 'predicting' the UK National Lottery numbers live on Channel Four here and catch yourself up.

Of course, the entire world wide web is buzzing this morning with theories and ideas about how he might have pulled this off. The one that seems to have convinced most people is this idea. It fits with what Derren said, that this illusion took a year of his time to set up. He only ever promised to get five numbers right so that massively cuts down the permutations of numbers he'd have to film, right? And it fits with the footage if you watch it carefully. Derren switches off the TV when he's written the numbers down, he pauses and stands still. There's even a gap in his speech at this moment.

There's just one problem with this theory. In the second, supposedly spliced on, pre-recorded TV clip, Derren would have to carry in his hand a card with the actual lottery numbers on it. He's supposedly just written them down from the TV a moment ago, so they have to be right. His prediction can be one number out, but the writing on the card can't be. This takes us right back to our 14 million little recordings, though, doesn't it?

Whatever the explanation is on Friday, it is even cleverer than that. And most of the nation will watch with bated breath to find out how he did it. I'm going to watch it, that's for sure. Hell, I may even miss True Blood for it.

Which brings me to the actual subject of my post. Because I wasn't really talking about his trick with the numbers. Derren Brown is a master illusionist and I've seen him do stranger things. They always end up being viable, explanable illusions and, sometimes, he reveals his methods to us. Bringing us in on the secret makes us feels as clever as him, and we like him all the more. We don't feel cheated because his methods are so intelligent and novel, so that we can only admire him.

I think he pulled off a much bigger trick than predicting the lottery numbers last night. I'm the kind of person who doesn't buy in properly to popular culture. I've never watched Big Brother, for example, and couldn't give a toss what the current status is between Peter and Barbie (although, admittedly, I do know there is something going on there despite my total lack of interest...) But last night I was hooked. I was completely fascinated with how he was going to pull it off. Then I was completely obsessed by how he might have done it. I even dreamed about it.

He had us. All of us, completely hypnotised and transfixed. How did he do that?

This one I can have a go at explaining. For a start, he chose the lottery. How many people can honestly say they've never bought a lottery ticket or at least dreamed of winning it? It could be you. Probably the most successful marketing gimmick of the last two millennia. Yes, of course it could be you, but the actual chances that it will be are around 14 million to one per line of numbers, so it's not very likely. What always puts this in perspective for me is the plain old laws of probability that say the numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 are just as a likely to come out as any others. Last week's numbers are just as likely to be drawn again as the ones on your ticket. I remember back in the 80s some cynical comedian flushed a pound coin down the loo and said 'You're just as likely to see that back as win the lottery' and that's about right. (All of this, of course, ignores the fact there are other prizes to win, some of them well worth having, and these are much more likely to happen to you.)

The National Lottery (or Lotto, I suppose I should say) is something that has already captured our imaginations. We are already hypnotised by its power, the possibility that our lives could be completely transformed. Derren Brown was already compellingly famous but we would have tuned in to pretty well any old Joe Bloggs saying he could predict the lottery numbers and convincing Channel Four to give him a time slot to prove it.

And then this is the thing. Not only does Brown not predict the numbers in time for us to get rich (of course, that wouldn't be allowed, Channel Four have even banned him from buying himself a ticket pffftttt!) he doesn't 'predict' the numbers at all. He shows us a set of balls and reveals the correct numbers are indeed stuck to them after the lottery's been drawn. The whole thing felt a bit Paul Daniels, for me. 'I put the card you are going to choose in this box.' Basic Magic Circle stuff.

Is the world ablast with 'what a crock?' this morning, then? It turns out not. Wherever you look on the web there are hoards of people saying how brilliant Brown is. Most people talking about this agree he's a genius, and the best illusionist we've ever seen. There are others who seem to genuinely believe he has some kind of psychic power. Even the cynical ones who are saying 'prediction my ass' are convinced he's going to blow us away with his denouement in the show on Friday and are looking forward to finding out what he did.

And, by some remarkable coincidence, Brown's new TV series started last night. I wonder what the viewing figures were like for that? Tickets went on sale for his latest tour. I bet them there phone lines were quite busy. I don't want to but I have to say it - the man is a genius!

There's no doubt in my mind whatsoever that he has the nation well and truly hypnotised. Truth be told, I'm not really sure how he did that either. I'd kill to know.

Look into the eyes, in the eyes, not around the eyes, into the eyes, you're under. Buy my books. Buy my books. Buy my books....

Structure in movies and Inglourious Basterds.

2009-08-24T19:23:00.004+01:00

I went to see a brilliant movie this week, Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds (I hope I've spelled that suitably incorrectly...) I don't want to say too much about it for fear of spoilers but I will say that (no surprises) it was brutal, inappropriately funny and had a spectacular ending that left my jaw hanging for about three entire minutes (which is actually a long time to keep your mouth open like that...) The soundtrack (as ever) was amazing and I was particularly struck by a version of Fur Elise that meandered into Western-style classical guitar at each main chord. Brilliant. The acting was brilliant too. Best ever Brad Pitt (except for perhaps his performance in 12 Monkeys) and a particularly compelling performance by Christoph Waltz as Colonel Hans Landa. (Sorry for all the brackets. Not quite sure why...)

It also, like Pulp Fiction, had an unusual structure. Pulp Fiction is told through various 'stories', each having its own clear narrative structure like a mini film, but over lapping. Chronology is all over the place so that characters dead in one scene are suddenly back in another. You can only truly understand the opening when you've seen the end of the film. I adore this movie.

Basterds is also set in chapters, although the characters, rather than the action, overlap, and the action is shown more or less in the order that it happens. It's still an unorthodox way of writing a script, but it works really well for this story.

I've been working on The Killing Jar treatment for months, trying to turn it into one smooth, straight A to Z story like I was taught in screenwriting class, succeeding on some limited scale. Then I saw this and felt like I'd been struck by lightning. Immediately it was obvious. I'd already sketched out TKJ as three part TV, but also knew it was too extreme for British telly. But just because it's a film, it doesn't mean it can't have three parts, does it? Well, not according to the Tarantino school of script writing, and he's my man when it comes to the movies.

I've put it down in a skeletal way and it works. I think I hang onto much more of the spirit of the book this way and I genuinely believe this isn't just the author of the novel in me trying to hang onto too much. I just have to see if I can persuade the world this is a good idea. For me, three chapters really fits with the story The Killing Jar tells but also, its major themes. They could almost be the caterpillar, pupa and emerging insect of the story. Bang on.

I just hope the world can see that and doesn't think you have to be Tarantino to get away with it. Answers on a postcard please...

The Big Question

2009-08-01T19:26:00.002+01:00

I decided today that I'm going to blog about 'The Big Question'. No, I'm not about to go all Hitchhikers on you and talk about life, the universe and everything, and come up with a random two digit number as the surprisingly simple answer. In fact, it's almost the opposite. The question is much less ultimate, and the answer an entire novel, rather than anything as elegant as 42.

The Big Question I refer to is the one that all writers dread and all writers are asked, over and over again at events and readings. In terms of writers' talks, it really is the ultimate question, the one that everyone seems to want the answer to. Where do you get your ideas from?

There's a reason writers hate this question. It's the one question guaranteed to make a writer's face fall, and cause he or she to mumble something incoherent about life, the universe and everything, or claim an almost spiritual kind of inspiration guiding their hands over keyboard or dragging the pen along the page. The more sarcastic amongst these creatures may comment 'I buy them all from the ideas shop', and the more honest 'I really don't know.' The latter is about the truth of it and it's near impossible to describe the creative process in any quick, simple way.

But, now, I've come up with the perfect answer. Write about it! Create a character who is an artist of some kind, put her in a settling and write a novel. Spend the entire two hundred odd pages exploring the creative process, as well as moving the plot forward, setting scenes, adding complications and eventually resolving everything. When people ask refer them to said book. Not only does it mean one won't have to answer 'The Big Question', but also may result in further sales of said book. Win, win, win!

There's only one problem with that. One whole novel later and I'm not sure that it might not have been easier to say '27' and leave everyone to go away and work out what 'The Big Question' actually is, after all.

Empathy, I've decided, is important, and an ability to switch off and tune into the subconscious mind, hence the garbled explanations that seem to point to some weird, psychic automatic writing that even Yuri Gellar would find dubious. Mostly it comes from the actual writing itself. That sounds very chicken egg but it's true. The more I write, the more ideas I have. When I first sat down to write I had none; now I have folders and documents full of the things, sitting there peskily calling to me, telling me I'll never have time to write them all. Not that I'm really complaining. In a sense, ideas are like friendships. You can never really have too many of them, but if you try to focus on them all at once they will probably come to nothing.

If that doesn't help then, well, you're just gonna have to read the book.

Epidurals and Carol Ann Duffy

2009-07-12T20:24:00.005+01:00

Yes, these are not subjects that appear to be connected on first pass so please bear with me. After all, this is my second blog post in one day, and you gotta hand it to me for that.

Yesterday, I accidentally clicked something on my iGoogle home page and downloaded some gadgets to my desktop. It could have been a disaster but it turned out to be pretty cool. I now have a little clock, a slideshow of pictures randomly selected from my hard drive and a stream of news that I can personalise if I want to. I've not done that yet. I've left it random to see what comes up.

What came up today was a link to the Daily Mail (a paper that winds me up so much I would never usually read it) about a local (male) midwife and his opinions on epidurals. As I said when I posted this to Facebook and Twitter; only a man could come up with this one.

"maternity units should abandon routine pain relief" Hmm... As a blogging friend of mine so eloquantly put it, he 'should really have a go at shitting a bowling ball' and see if he feels the same way after that.

"Dr Walsh said the NHS was too quick to give in to requests for pain killing injections." Not the experience of anyone I've ever spoken to on this topic. In fact, certainly concerning epidurals, the opposite appears to be the case, the doctors and midwives working hard to be as discouraging as possible, right up to the point where they say 'Oh well, it's too late now. Might as well just get on with it now he/she will be here in a minute'. A friend of mine was even told 'you'll still have to push, you know' when she requested an epi, as if her unreasonable insistence on pain relief was all down to being a bit of a lazy cow who couldn't be bothered to try harder to get her baby out.

His final pearl of wisdom was that 'A large number of women want to avoid pain. More should be prepared to withstand it. Pain in labour is a purposeful, useful thing, which has a number of benefits, such as preparing a mother for the responsibility of nurturing a newborn baby.'

A large number of women want to avoid pain. No shit Sherlock. An aversion to pain is inbuilt in the human psyche. Jesus H C that's the entire point of pain, to be something we want to avoid! Human beings made a good decision, in general, to stand up and free our hands for other things and we've evolved well on that, the only problem is that it's meant childbirth for our species is painful and dangerous. Left completely to nature, a large number of women and children would die in the process of childbirth. I don't imagine for a second that this man believes intervention to ensure the safety of patients is a bad thing. Why does he feel that women should go through all the unnecessary pain? This kind of outdated thinking is what holds our society back from progress. It makes my flesh crawl to think that this man is involved with women at such a vulnerable time in their lives and I think it's no coincidence at all that most of the women I know have chosen to give birth at the other hospital in my city for their second baby onwards.

I also can't help wondering that, if we need this pain to prepare us, what is it that readies the male of our species for the responsibility of nurturing their children? Should we all give the men in our lives a nice big kick in the balls while they hold their new baby just to make sure they understand what nurturing their child is about? What a pile of steaming hogwash. Seriously. Does this sadist really believe the best start in life for a baby is to make sure their mother is totally stressed and in agony as he or she comes into the world to make sure they understand the implications of looking after their bundle of joy? On what scientific basis is he suggesting this to be the case?

Now, I'm not anti men. In fact, I rather like the creatures. However, on this one topic I really cannot be anything but Millie Tant and say that the first man to deliver a baby through his own vagina can also be the first to comment whether or not pain relief is necessary. Yes, there are risks associated with epidurals but, as my mum pointed out years ago, if men were the ones who gave birth there'd be pain relief developed by now that was much more effective and safe than what is currently available to women giving birth. They'd have damn well made sure of it.

It did remind me of a Carol Ann Duffy poem. It's from her collection The World's Wife, my favourite poetry book and one I was lucky enough to hear her read from on Friday. I was double favoured, as I booked the tickets on the spur of the moment and only found out on the night that it was her first official reading as Poet Laureate. I was thrilled. I've heard differing reviews of how well she reads and connects with an audience but on Friday she was fabulous.

Ms Duffy wrote a poem called 'from Mrs Tiresias'. For those who don't know the story of Mr Tiresias, he was a greek mortal who was transformed by the gods into a woman for seven years, as a punishment (!) for killing a pair of copulating snakes he'd been offended by. I think the idea is that he was disgusted by their copulation, rather than that one of them had called him a name, but really, none of that is so vital to my point. The thing you need to know is that he was a man and Hera, a goddess, turned him into woman. There were lots of laughs during Carol Ann's readings from The Worlds Wife, but this line, from 'from Mrs Tiresias' possibly was the loudest (longest) one.

Then he started his period (dramatic pause and knowing look into the audience by Ms Duffy)
One week in bed.
Two doctors in.
Three painkillers four times a day.

And later
a letter
to the powers-that-be
demanding full paid menstrual leave twelve weeks per
year.

Personally, I'm going to have a word with Hera myself. See if she can turn that trick for me just one more time. I have a target in mind. A certain member of the medical profession who works down the road from where I live. I'd like him, live on TV, legs in stirrups, shitting out said bowling ball to repeat the wise words from his latest report. Or admit that he was wrong. If he did the latter then, maybe then, I'd give him his epidural. Though I might make him beg first. That, after all, is what he is suggesting NHS doctors and midwives do to the women in their care.

Strange dreams

2009-07-12T12:40:00.003+01:00

I've had some very unusual and vivid dreams recently.

In the first, someone bought me a bag of 'bushtucker trials' for a present. Now, I don't watch that jungle celebrity show, but I am aware of the concept, clearly. I remember Germaine Greer on some morning breakfast show and her credibility slipping out the window behind her as she complained about cruelty to insects and the crowding of the poor things in the dessert dishes they used on this show. Maybe Germain has never seen a hive of bees or nest of ants, bless her bleeding heart. She makes some good points in this article, but it wasn't how she came across on the telly. Anyway... I digress.

In the dream, my bushtucker present was wrapped in a big, brown sack, made of that fine but itchy woven material I believe is called sackcloth or hessian, though that's not important. It claimed on the label that there was some for 'now' and some for 'later'. I opened the sack to have a peep inside. Immediately insects swarmed out; electric blue flying creatures that darted as they flew, like hornets or small dragonflies. They were followed by tiny birds, also bright blue. I was with someone in my dream, one of those undisclosed people you get in dreams who have no face and body, or even an identity, but are a presence, watching or doing something with you. We both balked at the idea that anyone might try to eat these creatures and laughed at the idea that whoever had bought me this present thought that I might. In the centre of the sack there were a load of maggots and caterpillars, wriggling against each other and looking full of life. I'm not at all surprised that I dreamed about insects and larvae. My fiction is full of them, and I have a complete fascination with their lifecycle that I wasn't fully aware of until I started writing and it all came out.

My second dream was about a friend. A real friend, not a faceless presence, but one I won't name here for reasons that will become obvious. In this dream, the friend was having an affair and me and a bunch of mutual acquaintances were standing outside his flat talking loudly about it. We hadn't even considered the consequences of this until a friend of his partner popped her head out of the window and asked us to explain. I was straight in there, covering for him. 'Oh it's all past tense. It's the affairs she already knows about.'

The bloke concerned isn't, as far as I am aware, having an affair. In fact, there were some in his past but he did fess up and he and partner patched their life back together. I'm fairly sure he's been good since. I have no idea why any of this came into my dreams.

I like dreams. I have vivid ones, and lucid dreams too sometimes. I can often control what happens next and often replay a dream I didn't like and change the ending. I used to do this with fiction, when I was younger. If I didn't like the way a story finished, I would sit back and close my eyes and imagine something else, rewrite it for myself to something more satisfactory. I guess this was an early sign of the path my life would take.

I am dreaming loads at the moment, and also getting down the words. I'm working on a rewrite, so it's not all new material, but on good days I'm managing to get through ten thousand words or more. I think the two things are connected but I have no idea which drives the process.

It reminds me of a question I'm asked a lot at author events, a famous one that all writers hate only because it's so hard to answer. 'Where do you get your ideas from?' For me, they come from the writing. That probably sounds strange as, if the ideas come from the writing, how do you do any writing to begin with? I don't have an answer to this question. It's all a bit chicken versus egg.

Word of Mouth 8th July

2009-07-07T16:12:00.003+01:00

If you are around Nottingham on 8th July (that's tomorrow) and free for the evening, then come along to the event below. Lots of the coolest Nottingham writers, like me, of course lol, and a free glass of wine with your ticket. What more could you want? Hope to see you there...

Word of Mouth – Wed 8^th July 2009, 7.15pm in The Len Maynard Suite, (upstairs) The Royal Centre, Nottingham.

Curated by Michael Eaton, Word of Mouth promises to be a very special event, with readers including: Jon McGregor, Nicola Monaghan, Mike Wilson, David Belbin and John Lucas, covering a variety of forms from Newspaper interviews (James Urquart’s Lobster Lunch with Kazuo Ishiguro) to Ann Featherstone’s extracts from the journals of a Nottinghamshire Edwardian Lad, besides poetry, short fiction and critique. Tickets from RCH Box Office: £4 NWS Members/£5 other includes glass of wine/soft drink.

Lowdham and space time

2009-07-06T10:47:00.003+01:00

The same thing seems to happen to me every time I arrive at Lowdham Book Festival. I walk into the main hall and find Ross (one of the organisers) and Jon McGregor chewing the cud near the main door, along with various people I've known over the years from the MA and the first punters of the day perusing the book stalls. I really love this about the Lowdham festival; that the writers and readers mix like this and there is none of this fake separation between the 'talent' and those who pay the wages. It feels very down to earth.

This year when I saw Jon, and Ross, and the people from various previous Trent MA intakes, I was struck down with a very strong sense of deja vu. My very first Lowdham came to mind, freshly published, a double act with Jon. His relaxed style and gentle sense of humour put me at ease completely and the day was a lot of fun. There's something about Lowdham that throws me back, though, further than that. Back to when I was a student.

The thing that's weird about that is that the Lowdham I'm thrown back to was one I didn't even go to. It was the day I started to write The Killing Jar. I was at the end of my first year on the MA course. It was a lovely summer Friday and a bunch of us met for a drink and ended up at a Warehouse party. I'd been thinking about the Broxtowe Estate for a while, about the sense of anarchy I felt being around there. I was staying with my sister at the time, just outside the estate the other side of Strelley Island, and my bus stop into town was the one I wrote about Kerrie Ann waiting at, more than once. I'd been watching from there; remembering what it was like on the estate and how it had felt to be part of back in the 70s and early 80s. I'd also done an writing exercise in class that had led me right back to the close I used to live on, and to the long hot summer of 76, ladybirds and butterflies. The warehouse party was the last piece of the puzzle.

The next morning, almost everyone from the course was heading to Lowdham for the book festival. I had crashed at one of my Uni mate's houses, and was considering going with them, but I had a strong urge to write that morning and I couldn't ignore it. I left St Ann's and went into town, found the nearest Starbucks, sat down and wrote the first scene of The Killing Jar. Kerrie Ann's voice came to me strong and clear, like possession. In hindsight, I am very glad to have missed that Lowdham and, at the same time, it has given that festival final Saturday a special place in my heart.

Being back there on Saturday and seeing Jon and Ross by the door, walking around town, nipping into The Ship for a quick drink, it brought to mind so many times I'd had in that village. Getting drunk last year with Clare Littleford and her partner after launching the Okinawa Dragon (really quite appropriate for that book, I'd say) and her book, The Quarry, and doing very bad impressions of Goldie Looking Chain. Launches for both The Killing Jar and Starfishing, kindly hosted by Jane at the Bookcase. Good times.

The whole thing made me think about spacetime. It made me wonder; can a place and time be so connected in your mind they almost become the same thing? Because I can't help walking into Lowdham and feeling like I'm walking into various previous chapters of my life, and one of my first novel. It's strange.

It reminded me of a phrase, one I've used a few times in my current work in progress, which has a good deal of action in Pere Lachaise cemetery. 'Someone walked over my grave.' It's a phrase I really like because, for me, it gives a sense of a fourth dimension somehow more fluid and malliable than we usually see it, a dimension that can be traversed in both directions, like the others we know. I love the idea it gives of a future that's connected to now, just like you can draw a line from that bus stop at Broxtowe all the way to Lowdham.

I'm digressing more than slightly so I'll get back to the point. I spent the day at Lowdham wandering between tents and book stalls then, it felt, randomly standing up in one talking about my work and reading from it. It was the kind of day when I can't help but love my job, surrounded by writers and readers and love for books. The quality of the readings and speakers was absolutely excellent. There were several things I was considering missing my own reading to attend. (Don't worry, Ross, I never would have done that...)

I was particularly impressed with a new publisher that has launched in Nottingham. They're called Pewter Rose Press, and have been set up by a previous graduate of the Trent MA. They've produced two books so far, short story collections, beautiful books and, what I've read of them so far, beauiful stories. (Watch this space for a review soon...) I actually published Robbie Dewa, one of the writers, many moons ago when I was editing Pulp Net. I really like her writing so it was very pleasing to see her first short story collection in print.

If you're interested in writing and you haven't been to Lowdham yet, you must. Expecially that final Saturday, when it's free. The only good excuse for not going is if you just have to, really need to, are possessed to and can't ignore the call to write the first couple of pages of your first published book.

Book of numbers

2009-07-02T11:00:00.003+01:00

The last week has been a bit of a blast from the past, with return visits to Perry Barr for a NAW student showcase, and to Foyle's in London for the launch of their anthology 'Book of Numbers' , as well as a visit to Lowdham Book Festival, which somehow always reminds me of my own days as a writing student, perhaps because there's always such a strong Trent MA presence there.

More about Lowdham later but, for now, I want to talk about the National Academy of Writing. Last year, the anthology was done quickly, to be produced in time for the showcase in June, and as a result I ended up editing myself but that was never the idea. It was always intended that the students should run with this project, as part of their professional development and to give them editorial experience. I'm pleased to say that, this year, this is exactly what happened.

A small team Nick LeMesurier, Roger Noble and Geoff Mills were the main core, with help from Rena Brannan and Eveline Williams. I had the slightly surreal experience of being edited by one of my students. In the end, this wasn't that strange, because I've always workshopped my own writing with students I've taught and am used to the two way feedback. Some people have called me brave for presenting my work to a class of twenty odd people for comment but my opinion was that it was always a perk of the job. How often do you get the chance to get that much informed reader feedback in one go?

The editorial process was definitely good for me, and for the story, and I'm very pleased with the final version that appears in the book. The student team worked hard and were very professional, and they've produced a lovely book. Normally, I'd review it here, except that doesn't really seem appropriate given that one of the stories is mine. I will recommend it, though. I read it cover to cover yesterday and it is full of goodness.

Book of Numbers is the nth anthology I've had a story in (see what I did there?) but the first for which I wrote the story specially instead of just falling back on the folder I have of stuff I've written in the past. I was inspired to do so, because I found the theme very compelling. It may even have inspired my next novel. This made me think, about themes. We had one for our student anthology and I do think they work well when you are asking for submissions. As part of an audience at Lowdham the other day, in a session on short stories, I was asked what I think about themes. So there you go. You have the answer, Anne. I think it possibly makes more of a difference as a writer, rather than a reader and so for an anthology like this a well chosen theme may lead to improved standard of submissions. (More about Pewter Rose later, a very exciting new local publisher.)

It's so lovely seeing something you've worked on come to fruition. It wasn't always easy, working in Birmingham. The journey was hellish, the university kept changing things and I was pulling up a course and an ethos from thin air, based just on what I thought it should look like, although with lots and lots of help from colleagues, I might add. One of the biggest part of my vision was that the students should take control of a large part of the activities, particularly showcases and publications. This wasn't easy to put in place at all. There was resistance from some of the student body, used to more didactic teaching and controlling tutor influences in their pasts, who felt insecure and wanted more staff input. But, in the end, there were enough individuals ready to run with it and it worked and now it's just the normal run of things at the academy.

This year's showcase, just like many previously, was run by Rena Brannan. As ever, she did a fabulous, professional job. I was very glad to see her effort recognised with one of the course prizes this year. The showcase was perfect in that it was an embodiment of the course, with students reading a selection their own work, and actors performing some of the plays written on the Scripting and Staging module. It was a very special night.

I am very proud of what I achieved in Birmingham but prouder still of what the students have done. It was always their course, and I tried to give it to them.

Kapow!

2009-06-12T10:40:00.003+01:00

I went last night to the launch of Kapow! the latest anthology produced by students at Nottingham Trent University. It was in the usual venue, Sillitoe Room at Waterstone's on Bridlesmiths Gate. I've heard so much over the years about Waterstone's not supporting local writers but that is miles from the experience I've had with them in Nottingham. I've always found them very accomodating and extremely helpful. I think last night was particularly hard for them; apparently nine of their staff had been made redundant that day, but they were as welcoming and helpful as ever.

It was a very pleasant evening with some posh horse dewberries, free wine and short, well presented readings. All the things a book launch should be and a good time all round.

My only real disappointment was when I spoke to one of the new writers about his experience of being in print for the first time, and how cool that must be. I mentioned I remembered being there myself, in a similar anthology, not that long ago. I was shocked by the bitter and cynical response I got, a short diatribe on the evils of the publishing industry and how it's hardly worth being a writer at all, the money you can't make from it. I countered this, talking about my experiences working with my publisher and agent, and in the end I stood there sounding like the naive first timer still with stars in her eyes.

This is a line of argument I'm used to hearing, of course, from writers further down the line. It's a really common theme, so common I'm almost bored of it. It came up on a forum I'm a member of recently and I ended up writing such a long post on it that I decided I really ought to blog about it.

I'm going to make a statement. It's controversial and may upset a lot of people, but I also think it's true. There is nothing less attractive than a bitter midlist author.

I know this because on my MA course I had pretty much two years of visits from this kind of writer. Nearly every speaker who came could be fitted into this category, with one or two notable and brilliant exceptions. In a way, it was a good thing. It certainly gave us a realistic view of what 'being a writer' really meant. At the same time, it was about as inspiring as a brick in the face, and six months after the course finished there was only one person left writing.

Maybe because of this education, or perhaps just because I'm generally quite a positive 'can do' kind of person (possibly a little bit sickeningly so) I've always managed to stay feeling pretty good and positive about my writing career. Don't get me wrong; I've had my moments of feeling down, frustrated or confused, but I've made an effort not to let these feelings get to me and I can genuinely say my attitude to being a professional writer has stayed positive.

This is the way I put it on my forum post.

"Although when you look at what Melissa Nathan was earning in the early days it's hardly a good salary or hourly rate. But it really depends on how you look at your writing career as to how you see that. Personally, I don't think you can or should expect a good salary from writing at the beginning. It's not a 'job' per se with an employer and that kind of security. In fact, it's a self-employed business.

If you set up in business selling widgets of some kind, or as a driving instructor (which my sister did and I can tell you is *much* worse) or with a new restaurant and so on, you wouldn't expect to make much money the first few years and you'd probably find yourself doing all the hours god sent to push your business forward. You'd see those years as 'investment' periods. You probably wouldn't take a salary at all from your business for a good while. You certainly wouldn't have a team arranging your product, PR and publicity. Sure, ultimately, you could see it as that these people take a big cut of your profit from the final product too but, then again, without them it would be hard to produce a viable product or get taken seriously at all, because they have the reputation to add legitimacy to what you're doing."

That's the way I see it anyway and it's helped me ward off the bitterness thus far.

Review: The Mother Garden and The Mercy Papers by Robin Romm

2009-05-31T17:48:00.003+01:00

These two touching and moving books were yet again gifts from my US editor, to whom I am forever grateful. She works on wonderful books and has excellent taste but, of course, I would say that.

I'm sure you would too if you read these books. The first, The Mother Garden, is a book of short stories with a definite theme. In every story there is a mother and, in each of them, this mother is either dead or dying. The book is a smorgasboard of oxygen tanks and chemotherapy, of lives lived on but with an inevitably massive hole. Most of the stories are firmly planted in the soil of realism, except perhaps 'The Mother Garden' of the title. This slightly surreal piece contains many different mothers brought together and planted in an attempt to fill the hole left by the main character's lost mum.

The entire collection is touching and compelling. I often find short story collections tricky, enough of the stories leaving me cold to make finishing an entire book difficult, but this was definitely an exception. I was compelled to pick it up and continue until I had finished them all. Since, I've found I wanted to buy it for friends, one of the biggest compliments I could give a book, passing it on to people I care about.

It's no surprise then, that reading Romm's bio, you find pretty quickly that she did lose her mother in the recent past. The Mercy Papers is her record of that experience. It's a sad book, so very sad, but it's also incredibly honest, at turns angry, aware and vibrant. It's beautifully written in that clear concise style that seems to be such a mainstay of American publishing. Crafted. Although the subject matter is sad, and it could be depressing, I didn't feel depressed afterwards so much as full of compassion for those who have, are and will go through such things. All of us, then.

I hate to use a cliche but I feel I have to here, about these books, and that is that they are two sides of the same coin. This is an overused turn of phrase, but it does describe perfectly what I felt on reading these two pieces of writing so sod it. Romm documents what I think must be her most life changing experience so far in a memoir, then fiction. In doing so she gives the most complete picture I could ever imagine and that's as much as a writer can ever do. I am full of admiration.

I wrote a story once on this topic which I couldn't help but think of when I read Romm's books. In fact, it was my first pubished piece of fiction. I don't think for a moment it stands up to what Robin Romm has achieved. They say write what you know, and I didn't know this at all, though I could imagine it and have, as we all do, in bad dreams and moments of worry. I can imagine it whole lot better now thanks to Robin Romm's insightful and moving account.

I can't recommend these books highly enough.

Synecdoche, New York

2009-05-26T10:54:00.004+01:00

"Millions of people, none of them is an extra. They're all leads in their own story."

I've been trying to blog about this film for days and have variously deleted everything I previously wrote, started from a different angle and realised again that it won't be enough. In the end, I decided this would tell people more about the film, and the dilemmas of its main character Caden Cotard than I ever could. Some people have compared the movie to a mobius strip , but I'd say it was more of a torus, self referential, spinning in on itself, everything the same and yet everything different. A rather abstract way to talk about a movie, I know, but then it's a rather abstract movie.

I thought it was brilliant. Like I did with Mulholland Drive, I know I will buy Synecdoche on DVD and that I will watch it many times, as many times as it takes for me to be able to watch and enjoy the scenes without trying to piece them together. My lovely hubby felt very differently, and I quote 'It was stupid.' The reviews I've read online seem to flick between these two standpoints, some of them expressing both opinions at the same time. Again, that tells you more about the film than I ever could.

Go see it. It's brilliant. It's a little bit stupid too.

Realism in films

2009-05-08T14:45:00.003+01:00

I've been thinking a lot about film recently, and watching lots of new films as well as old faves. This is partly because I'm working on the adaptation of The Killing Jar, partly because I finally have the time to focus on film and TV, but a good deal to with a course I'm teaching in Nottingham: Writing a short film. I sometimes feel a bit of a fraud teaching this. I've not got any short films out there. I have written them, though, but inertia and practical issues have meant I've never tried to go further than the writing. I was so focused on being a novelist for so long, especially when I first discovered screenplay, on my MA course. But, to be honest, it does quite suit my style. Very structured, very visual. I enjoy the challenge of having to break my story down and work it out in pictures.

One of the films I've revisited recently is Swordfish. I think this is an interesting movie, not necessarily that great, but definitely one that I find worth studying. The opening is pretty special and probably holds more promise than the movie as a whole plays out. We've got John Travolta talking for several minutes, delivering the well written lines of dialogue the way only he can. He's talking about Hollywood and its lack of realism. He's suggesting ways that seige situations could be more realistically done, with no mercy on the part of the hostage takers and lots of bloodshed. People are sitting around drinking coffee, commenting on what he says. Then bam: span out and we are actually in a seige situation. Travolta follows up his words, well, I won't say how because some readers might not have seen the film. But he does follow up.

It almost feels like the film writer is setting his premise with Travolta's speech. 'This is going to be a realistic Hollywood film'. Of course, as the film continues, it's really not at all, just as stylised as anything you've seen. There's the longest and most unrealistic car chase I've ever seen. And the computer displays are much more visual than any hacker's screen would ever be. Perhaps it's impossible to be realistic in film, no matter how you set out to be. Maybe that's the point. A couple of views and I'm still not sure.

So I thought to myself, what would happen to some Hollywood storylines if the writer did try to inject some of that realism Travolta talks about?

Starting with Swordfish. Well, I reckon it would have taken the Hacker several hours if not days to get into the department of defense computer. He would have drunk coffee while hacking, not wine, but if he had drunk wine then he would have spilled it on the keyboard, turned the thing upside down to try to empty it out, then started typing again only to find the spacebar didn't work and several other keys had to be bashed quite hard, over and over, to get the letter on the screen, at which point they would stick and the computer send out a mad beep as it filled with bbbbbbbbbbbbs.

Fight Club would be a really short film. Jack would go out and get himself beat up once, then realise that it hurt, and he didn't like it, wasn't very good at it, and retreat to his finely Ikead apartment with his tail between his legs.

Pulp Fiction, I don't even know where to start, except that Uma Thurman would have died, John Travolta got shot by the big boss, and Bruce Willis would have won the fight and taken the money.

I'm going away to think of a few more examples and will post them when I do.

Writer's block

2009-04-11T14:08:00.002+01:00

"Maya was stuck. That’s how she liked to think of it; stuck, like when you come up against a particularly difficult maths problem at school. She refused to use the word blocked because that sounded too serious. It sounded like something that could happen to an artery, or to your windpipe. It sounded like something that could kill you."

A short snippet from my work in progress, about a pop star on the run. It's interesting to be able to write about the creative process but remove myself from the equation a little. I'm finding out lots about what I really think. Bizarrely, quite soon after writing this, I got a little stuck myself. A few bumps in the plot became difficult to negotiate. I find train journeys useful for this, or cafes, a change of scene can make all the difference.

Sometimes, not thinking about the problem for a while is the best answer. Your subconscious keeps working then, without interference, and it's a clever beast. It's my excuse, anyway, for long walks and staring out of the window.

Writer's block is an important part of the process, I've always found, unless it lasts too long and stalls you completely. I'm fortunate that's never happened to me. But I do perhaps wonder if thinking about a blockage can be self-fulfilling and lead to more serious problems. I'm wondering if some alternative terminology might be useful. Intellectual regrouping. Subconscious planning. Or just being a bit stuck. I think Maya's right; it's a healthier way to think about it.

All publicity?

2009-03-30T10:46:00.003+01:00

This year, I was asked to be on the judging panel of the Authors' Club First Novel Award. The way the award works is that all members of the Authors' Club are encouraged to read the entered books and to write reports on them, and then everything is compiled and compared by the committee, who work out a shortlist and pass it on to the adjudicator, this year Philip Hensher. The entire event climaxes with a lovely dinner, and presentation of the prize by the final judge, and this happened last Monday. Chad and I went along - it was only polite and the food is always so good. It was the best night out I've had in ages, Mr Hensher was a scream, and the evening ended with Chad, myself and a couple of other miscreants in the Groucho club. I'm not sure what I was expecting the Groucho to be like, except that this wasn't it. I guess I had pictures in my head of people dressed in bright jackets and dancing on the tables. It was classy, instead, and yet relaxed, with young, arty members. I can totally see why it was seen as a breath of fresh air compared to other London Clubs.

One of the highlights of the night for me (apart from having such a laugh with cool people) was meeting the Independent on Sunday's current literary editor. I have to admit, I quite enjoyed the blanche in her cheeks when she was introduced, having run, just the day before, by far the worse review I have ever received. I won't link to it here. I'm not giving the writer of said review any publicity at all, so if you want to see it, you can find it yourself. I'm not even going to comment about the review; people can read my books and make their own minds up and I don't expect everyone to like them. In fact, I quite deliberately write fiction that provokes, and think it's a bit of a victory that there are people who can't quite deal with the worlds I create.

What I will say is the same as I said on the night, to the literary editor sat two places away at dinner. No matter what a review says, I'd rather it existed than not. I believe every mention of your name, of the book, is of vital importance. Maybe I wouldn't feel the same if there weren't plenty of good reviews out there to balance the bad, but I do know this; when the Chatto edition of Starfishing came out, it didn't pick up many reviews at all, and it was completely dispiriting. There's nothing worse than a book being more or less ignored, so I'm pleased that it's getting so much more attention this time around. I'm also pleased that most of that attention is positive, but the odd bad review, even a real stinker like the I on S printed, is still worth having.

I've been thinking a lot about that adage all publicity is good publicity. PT Barnum apparently said 'I don't care what they say about me, just make sure they spell my name right!' and I like that attitude, and it works for me as a writer. But I'm not sure we can totally follow these rules in these days of celebrity obsession.

Take poor old Lily Allen. Hounded at home, followed around, chased by cars. Does it sound familiar? I'm sure that we were all left in shock about ten years ago by a woman who was hunted and chased by the press to such an extent it was contributory to her death, in a certain tunnel in Paris. Thank god, then, that the powers that be have made a sensible move and given Lily a court order to keep the dogs from her door. Sure, she courts publicity for her work, who doesn't? And she writes good music and lives a certain lifestyle, so lots of people are interested in her. I don't think this is a fair reason to hound the girl the way the press have been doing. There has to be a limit.

And talking of that limit can only lead us to the current Princess of our Hearts, Jade Goody, and her reality TV life. I'm not sure what there is left to say about the poor woman, except that I hope there was a pre-nup and that her babies see every penny of the money squeezed out with her dying breaths. Of course, that's after OK! take their cut, and Max Clifford of course, and all the rest. Magic.

For me, the whole Jade Goody nightmare was summed up by an anonymous and provocative local artist, all over Nottingham and also here. Quality.

It is her boys I feel for. No matter how much it's providing your inheritance, losing your mum must be bad enough. To see her illness plastered all over the papers and TV and not be able to turn away from it must be too much to bear. I just hope they are left alone now to deal with their grief.

RIP Jade. Well, if you want to, though I can't help wondering if we should send a photographer down there with you babe.

Some book reviews...

2009-03-19T14:37:00.009Z

How Not to Write a Novel by Howard Mittelmark and Sandra Newman
The List by Tara Ison

I received How Not to Write a Novel direct from the publisher and the title put me off to begin with; I prefer to be told 'how to' do something, in general, than deal with negativity, but the book came with a note of recommendation from somebody I know and respect, and so I decided to read it. I have to say, I was very pleasantly surprised, and I laughed a lot.

The book's structured around the various aspects of novel writing, plot, character, style etc and full of amusing examples of how to get your work rejected. It's astute, sardonic and generally very witty. Sure, it has a slightly superior tone in places, but I think it mostly avoids that, and whispers in the reader's ear 'are you sure you're not doing this?' I'm sure that if everyone who thought about sending submissions to editors or agents read this book, they could save themselves a lot of time and postage money, and improve the quality of what gets called the 'slush pile'.

I didn't agree with everything the book said and I certainly haven't always followed all its rules. For example, it said that writing about a break up was certain to get your book rejected and, in a sense, both my novels have featured one. I've just read a really great book that takes a break up as it's central subject (see below) and do think that bad relationships are too good a source of material to avoid. But I saw plenty that made sense in this book - and it's definitely one I would have recommended to my students, when I had them.

Overall, this was an enjoyable read, and filled with useful information presented in a more compelling way than the usual dry tone of the 'how to get published' or 'how to write a novel' books I've read. Recommended.

The List by Tara Ison is another book I was lucky enough to get for free - one of the biggest perks of being a published writer. This one was sent by Alexis, my US editor. She does think of me when she sees books I might like and I always enjoy them so thanks Alexis! It's taken me a wee while to get around to this one because I've had so much else I've felt I needed to read over the past year or so. It took me a good while to get to this one, but I am glad I finally did.

It's beautifully written, really elegant prose and Ison uses some complex ideas and unusual metaphors to bring the language alive. It has a small cast of characters, but they are incredible vividly drawn.

The story is almost exclusively about a break up, which apparently breaks the rules, but perhaps this book gets away with it because it's so well done. It's very, very compelling, car crash stylie, so that you know what's coming a lot of the time and don't want to see but you can't look away. You get the feeling these two people could be perfect for each other, if they were prepared to let each other go their own way. Isabel, the obsessive career surgeon, has found the perfect contented house husband if she'd just lighten up and realise that not everyone has to 'contribute' in the way she feels the need to. Al could work a little harder at explaining himself, at making sure Isabel understands why he's so contented with life, but also communicating the way he really feels about her. But then, I'm not even sure he knows he isn't. Men, innit?

The story pulls you along at quite a pace, getting darker by the page, just my kind of fiction. It's one of the best I've read for ages. The only slight negative for me was the ending. I really thought she had it just right and that I had reached the end, but there were pages left. There's not much I can say without spoilers, except that the last chapter significantly lightened the ending, and not in a way I could believe or level with. I would have left this final bit out. But, then, that's me. I'm dark, as I keep reminding my husband.

Highly recommended.

More reviews to come soon, including Ian McEwan's Atonement. Sure, I know I'm late to the party on this one, but the only other McEwan I've managed to finish was Enduring Love, and I'm pleased to find that there are other books he's written that live up to the hype. So far, I'm really hooked, and for the first time really I'm very, very impressed.

I am sick of writing letters of complaint....

2009-03-16T14:35:00.004Z

I am a writer and I love writing, but I should be using my skills on other, better things. It seems to me that, these days, in this country, every man and his horse is trying to extract money from you in less than reputable ways. It's not always dishonesty, although often it is, but sometimes it's just plain, blind incompetence.

Today I wrote again to the collections department of British Gas, who keep sending me ridiculous bills for the property I used to live in. The meter readings on their gas bill bear no relation to reality, and they claim we used nearly £500 worth of electricity over five weeks in the summer last year. They've promised over and over to put our account on hold and investigate it, but never seem to quite manage. And yet the nice man who came to my door (in the rain, I seem to remember) promised me they would be cheaper. Huh!

Then there are people like Vehicle Control Services. These people keep sending me letters alleging that I parked somewhere I shouldn't have and insisting I owe them £140. The latest is a rather threatening jobby where they say they plan to visit, and imply they're coming in my house. No they bleddy well aren't. Let's see them try. (I may be small but I'm feisty, and my husband's bigger!)

But the one that has riled me the most is the lovely people at not Goodenough Guest House. It seems that business is so bad for the bed and breakfast trade in Wimbledon that they have to steal money from their potential guests.

To cut the story short, I rang up and booked a room there when I was due down in London for medical treatment. Details of the treatment changed, and I rang to cancel 5 days in advance of my proposed stay. I was actually hoping to rebook with them, at different times, but I was told point blank I couldn't change my arrangement. The woman on the phone was incredibly rude, first to me, then to my husband. I had only booked 7 days in advance but I couldn't phone to change anything two days later? She wouldn't listen to a word we said though. At the time of booking, she asked for my credit card number. She was very clear; this number was for security purposes in the event of a no show, but no payment or deposit would be taken. However, because of my cancellation she said I owed her a fee and randomly took £150 from my credit card account. She pointed me to her website and, even though I'd booked over the phone and never seen her website in my life, she told me it was up to me to avail myself of her booking conditions. At no point when I was booking did she mention this!

After getting nowhere with her on the phone, I tried to email. Her replies were terse, unpleasant and full of shit. She even threatened to call the police and accused me and hubby of harrassing her. 'Bring it on!' I replied. Surprisingly, I haven't heard from them. She will be hearing though, from the court, because, unlike Vehicle Control Services and their associated collections companies, I do not just threaten people with court action.

I'm so sick of the way corporations and business try to push around individuals and, from everything I've read, it's clear the law still doesn't go far enough to protect us from being parted from our money for goods or services we haven't received. But I'm gonna fight every damn one of them.

'Bring it on!' she says again.

Onwards and, well, onwards...

2009-03-01T09:38:00.007Z

My biggest news for a long time is that I am, with some regret, leaving the National Academy of Writing.

It has been a ball, it has been hard work and it has been nearly three years of my life, three of perhaps the hardest, all told, with certain personal circumstances. And now it is over. As of today.

It's time, I know that. The commute to Birmingham was a bitch, I can't stress enough how I hated it. I worked hard to get to know the writing and publishing community there but I always felt like a bit of an imposter in their midst and family life in Nottingham meant I couldn't get to nearly as many book launches and events as I would have liked. I also wanted to focus back on my writing, as it wasn't drifting as such, but it had ramped down pacewise by some level. So, yes, it was time and I will miss it very much. I will certainly miss my colleagues at Birmingham City, as well as members of the NAW board, who were the ultimate support network and never let me down. I will miss Birmingham, which is so much nicer than you think, and all the good folks there who took me into their hearts and helped me do what I was trying to do. I'd like to say a huge thank you to all of those people here. You know who you are.

The best thing about it has been the students. At times the worst thing about it has been the students too, but I won't dwell on that. (Or elaborate. No!)

Mostly I want to celebrate who they are and what they have achieved. I'm really proud of them. They're good writers because we chose them carefully, and each had to spend a week on our campus in Birmingham to prove themselves before they were allowed to proceed with the course. That's a big deal; giving up your life for a week to study on course that might not have you in the end. That's commitment and commitment, in the end, is what turns someone who can write into someone who can get published.

I truly believe the student body at the academy is unique. They are self-starting, managing and initiating their own projects, full of ideas to make the course experience better and enrich their own learning. They read, and consider fiction written by other people deeply, as well as their own. They work hard. They have all, without exception, come on leaps and bounds since they started the course (even those who do not know it yet).

Below I've detailed everything they've done so you can see for yourselves. I think their achievements are exceptional. I'm inspired by their energy and motivation and expect big things of academy students in the coming years. I'm looking forward to reading reviews of their books in the Guardian and Independent and telling everyone that I taught them.

So far, my teaching career has produced just one star, Bradley McIntosh of S Club Seven fame. As I taught him maths, I cannot claim to have contributed nearly as much as the Brit school, where he went after I knew him. But I did give him his first commendation (or accommodation, as he called it at the time) and I always smiled when he danced into the classroom.

I like to think of my writing students in a similar way. The success is theirs; entirely down to blood, sweat and tears. But I always smiled when they danced into the classroom.

Nicola

PS You can buy a copy of their brilliant and very professionally produced anthology Finding a Voice here. Thanks to Imprimata for all their efforts and help with this.

NAW Student Achievements – as of March 2009

Tina Freeth

Published short story in Birmingham words pamphlet ‘Perfectly Formed’

Published short story in anthology ‘Original Skin’

Winner of SCRIPT Games playwrighting competition - one of five plays (ten minutes in length) chosen for to be performed at the B'ham Museum and Art Gallery directed by ex-BBC producer Kate Chapman (22 Nov 2008).

'Growing up on lard' published in The Map of Me - Decibel Penguin anthology (Nov 2008).

Contracted as writer by Franklin Watts Publishing for two titles in a newly created series (The Crew) for reluctant readers. The title of Tina's first book will be - 'Day of the Dog'.

'Aston Manna' (15 minute film) shortlisted for Screen West Midlands/UK Film Council funding for DIGISHORTS project.

Storytelling leader at Herefordshire Council's DESTINATION CHINA - Easter festival 2009

Short film script 'Lychees and Bingo Ball's' (an adaptation from own short story) has been chosen along with four others by the BBC Writers' Room who ran a competition BBC Bites in March 2008, looking for stories by or about the British Chinese community. The Writersroom are now looking for partnership funding to produce all five short films.

Featured on BBC Video Nation

Baljinder Gill

Completed 2 feature length scripts - "Walls Between Us" and "Don't Miss It - Live Suicide Tonight!" and also a short script - "Divine Intervention" which has made it through the first cut of the British Short Script Competition. There were 1500 entries and they've made the first cut to just over 400.

Federay Holmes

Federay has had a story published in literary magazine ‘Bad Idea’
Made third round of the Verity Bargate Award for play "Pull to Standing"
Audio play produced by the BBC which can be found here

Richard Howse

Made the top 20 in the Screenwriters’ Festival 2007 Fever Pitch competition and had his script sent to channel 4 for consideration.

Three issues of ‘Writing Tips’ broadcast in Litopia podcast to over 4500 listeners.

Completed work for Scholastic Children's Books on an ARG (Artificial Reality Game) for MG Harris's Joshua Files book series. Richard adapted the story from an original idea by MG Harris and co-authored the content of the game with her, which involves: blogs, interactive websites, video diaries, scripted dialogue, and a live event at the game's climax on the 27th March.

Fiona Joseph

Longlisted (last 25) in the Happenstance International Short Story Competition (Feb 2008)

Bobbie Darbyshire

Bobbie has now left the course, but will be publishing her first novel 'Truth Games' with Cinnamon Press this summer. She has also had another novel 'The Real McCoy' serialised, and short stories published and performed.

Robert Ronsson

Robert won the Button Bridge Books short story competition.

Published short story in Birmingham words pamphlet ‘Perfectly Formed’

Published ‘Olympic Mind Games’, a young adult novel, which made the heady heights of Amazon top 500 after a very well managed marketing campaign.

Shortlisted for Impress First Novel Award, run by Impress book and University of Exeter’s Centre for Creative Writing for his novel ‘The Spaniard’s Wife’. This was also longlisted (25) in the Jane Wenham-Jones 'wannabe a writer?' competition.

Presented the awards at the Worcestershire Teen Book Awards 2007 ceremony at Droitwich Library on April 24, 2007.

Sold 7000 copies of 'Olympic Mind Games' to a financial services company in America called Mutual of Omaha. Mutual of Omaha sponsors the 'Break-out! Swim Clinics' which tour the USA finding and coaching new swimming talent and they are giving each participant in the program a copy of my book. Has now sold more than 9000 copies of OMG in the UK and USA.

'The Speed Trap' won a Writers' News competition and it will be published in the May 2009 edition of the magazine. (Robert has also been shortlisted for this prize three times previously.)

Rachel Pickering

Rachel has had first person articles published in the Guardian and Sunday Telegraph. As part of "Open Mouth Productions" she wrote, directed and performed show "Love, Honour and Obey" (four character monologues) in Hebden Bridge – it was a sell out and very well received.

Geoff Mills

Short poem ‘The Film’ published in issue 19 of Aesthetica
Wrote a series of introductions for 501 Great Writers - A Comprehensive Guide to the Giants of Literature.

Elizabeth Nichols

Finished her first novel 'Little Time Bomb'

Rena Brannan

Rena’s play ‘Baby's Wedding’, about a Korean mother who is in competition with her best friend to see who can marry their respective daughters off first, was shortlisted for the Yellow Voices play writing competition, run by the Yellow Earth Theatre. Shortlisted playwrights had the chance to meet the directors of the Birmingham Rep, the Young Vic and the Soho Theatre.

Rena also deserves a special mention for her participation in NAW projects. She has been part of teams in a number of projects, and co-ordinated two showcase events and various workshops. She's done an excellent job on everything she's been involved with.

Gabby Bulmer

Gabby has finished her children’s novel ‘Elemental Heroes’ and is now seeking representation for her book.

Sophie Ward

Publication of article in the Times
Commission and reading of story at the Vice Chancellor’s installation December 2007.

Other publications have included My Orphean Underworld in Sesame, Meat, which won first prize in the BCU Free Word competition, and Private Lives, a regular column for Crave magazine.

Sophie's latest short story has been published by New Fairy Tales
Sophie blogs here, and about books here.

Anna May Mangan

Article in the Sunday Times October 28th 2007 ‘Proud to be a Pushy Mother’
Has now published two features in the Mail on Sunday You magazine, one in Saga, came second in the Prima short story competition in November issue and placed second in the international Sean O'Faolain Prize.

Eveline Williams

Had an audio piece broadcast on Resonance FM

Tamsin Walker

Completed 2nd draft of novel and is now looking for representation.
Completed 2 feature film scripts - received interest from UK funder and director for one, German director and producers for another.
Commissioned by Bertelsmann to write and record a series of 39 stories for children, plus a series of scripts for animation

James Kennedy

After a stint finding his feet at many open mic and spoken word events, James jointly founded Wrote Under Publishing, a non profit co-operative in Birmingham. He edited magazines and promoted gigs, and in 2007 he was one of the ‘three’ in Wrote Under’s first publication, ‘The Underground Three: Three Go Mainstream’, a collection of poetry and prose. James’s performances have included experimental music and acting as well as poetry, and he has performed at many arts venues, including the opening of Eastside Projects gallery.

Kathleen Dixon Donnelly

Kathleen is a Senior Lecturer in public relations, in the Birmingham City Business School, and has received a RoLEX grant from the university's Center for the Enhancement of Teaching & Learning [CETL] to develop an interdisciplinary course in public relations with the School of Media. This will expand the teaching of writing to students studying business degrees.

Finding a Voice

The following students were published in our annual anthology, Finding a Voice:
Bobbie Darbyshire, Robert Ronsson, Lucy Fussell, Fiona Joseph, Bruce Johns, Rachel Pickering, Eveline Williams, Gabby Bulmer, Sophie Ward, Ryan Davis, Rena Brannan, Tina Freeth, Gemma McErlean, Kathleen Dixon Donnelly, Nick LeMesurier, Elizabeth Nichols.

Showcases

The following students took part in our June show:
Sophie Ward, Robert Ronsson, Edmund Bealby-Wright, Mike Morrison, Bobbie Darbyshire, Bruce Johns, Tina Freeth, Geoff Mills, Richard Howse, Rena Brannan.

Our prizewinners were: Bobbie Darbyshire (Fiction), Sophie Ward (Screenwriting), Tina Freeth (Enterprise) and Robert Ronsson (Professional Development).

The following students took part in our showcase at Birmingham Book Festival:
Federay Holmes, Bruce Johns, Tina Freeth, Rob Ronsson, Edmund Bealby-Wright, Carol Burns, Roger Noble, Fiona Joseph, Dave Ewer, Geoff Mills, Nick Le Mesurier, Bobbie Darbyshire, Sophie Ward, Rena Brannan

The following students took part in our showcase as part of the December course day:
Fiona Joseph, Rob Ronson, Geoff Mills, Federay Holmes, Mike Morrison, Roger Noble, Sophie Ward

The state of the union

2009-03-01T09:25:00.003Z

It has a been a long time since I blogged here, or anywhere for that matter. I have all kinds of excuses lined up about life taking over and work being busy and finding that I needed all my writing time for, well, writing novels. But the truth is, I got a little bored.

Looking back at my blog, now, I think I understand why. I started this site as a place to post news and perhaps muse randomly about writing, which I still think is fair enough but reading back my posts I feel they lacked a certain depth of thought. Mostly, they rambled on about what I'd been doing, a little like an online diary, which I suppose a blog is, except that I'm not sure how much of myself, as a writer or otherwise, I was really giving people here. It almost feels like lipservice.

So, now I'm back and I've been thinking and I might handle things here a little differently from before. I guess we'll just have to wait and see...

I'm also planning to resurrect Frankie over at Starfish Soup. I've discovered recently that she does have something to say, after all. I think it could be fun. Watch out for new posts there very soonly. I have also decided I will make up words if I want to. I like it.

Niki x

Can't blog now, more heroes to meet...

2008-07-28T19:27:00.003+01:00

I've not been a good blogger of late, I know that and I'm sorry. The thing is, I'm just not spending much time at all online at the moment. I'm reading loads, and writing plenty, but none of that writing has turned out to happen online (until today). My third novel is coming along and I'm also working on a script for The Killing Jar, which looks like it's found a producer, so all that's keeping me busy, busy, busy, as well as quite shiny and excited.

I've also had some fun this summer meeting my heroes. They are all heroes I've met before, but that doesn't take the shine off for me, they're still heroes. Chuck Palahnuik (one of said heroes) says in something I read once that you shouldn't meet your heroes, that they're bound to let you down by farting or belching. Well, I haven't heard any evidence of the above and, as I don't have much of a sense of smell, I wouldn't notice otherwise. So far, I've lucked out.

Of course, one of the biggest events of the year has been the 80th birthday of Alan Sillitoe, which has been celebrated in style. For the latest tribute, catch the next issue of Left Lion. They done 'im proud.

Most recently, I interviewed Irvine Welsh at the Broadway Cinema, where I used to work. I was quite nervous; I heard somewhere that he could be quite prickly in the wrong hands. Nothing could have been further from the truth. He was friendly, chatty and asked me about my books on more than one occasion! (Not during the actual interview - that would have been just wrong lol). I'd say you couldn't meet a nicer man. An editor at Random House once suggested to me that they felt the nastiness of someone's fiction had almost an inverse relationship with the personality of the writer. ie Nice guys write grim. So far I'm finding this adds up.

If you want proof of this, I'm interviewing Chuck Palahniuk soon. He's about the nicest guy who writes the grimmest stories. He comes so close to defining cult fiction, that's what his fans call themselves. If you fancy checking this out for yourself, it's 6pm, at the Broadway, Broad Street in Nottingham on Thursday 14th August. See you there. Don't fart!

N

Lowdham Book Festival - this Saturday

2008-06-26T12:29:00.002+01:00

I'm at Lowdham Book Festival this Saturday, 1pm, in the Fiction Marquee, launching my new crime express book The Okinawa Dragon with Clare Littleford, who has also published one called The Quarry. Be nice to see you there.

And don't forget about Irvine Welsh at the Broadway. If you have any ideas for things I should ask him, post em here.

Nicola

Finding a voice and Irvine Welsh

2008-06-20T17:40:00.002+01:00

I'd just like to point you here, in the direction of the anthology from my new students. They've worked very hard and I'm really impressed with what they've achieved. I definitely recommend it. Make sure you buy from the 'new and used' available part, so that you go direct to the publishers and don't need to pay a sourcing fee...

Also, I'm interviewing Irvine Welsh at the Broadway Cinema in Nottingham on 10th July. To book tickets and for more information see their website. http://www.broadway.org.uk/

Alan Sillitoe reviews to come soon :)

Toodle pip xx

Missing May

2008-06-14T16:03:00.003+01:00

This May, I've been too busy living to blog. Too busy living to write very much even, though I've had lots and lots of inspiration recently and I am working on a script and a couple of stories, as well as what I hope will become novel number 3. I'm hoping to tie up some loose ends in the next week or so then get into some serious writing...

Meanwhile, Alan Sillitoe was made a Freeman of the City of Nottingham in celebration of his 80th birthday. Apparently, this does not mean he can walk into Squares or Yates's and demand a free pint, but that he has the right to herd sheep or cattle freely through the city without charge. I think he should do it. Just for the craic.

As a celebration of Alan's new status, as well as his 80th birthday back in March, I am re-reading his book of short stories The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner, the title story of which inspired the name of this blog. I'm going to review each story as I go and post those reviews here.

TTFN...

The Verb

2008-04-04T16:20:00.003+01:00

Catch me tonight on Radio 3's The Verb, together with other writers Aravind Adiga, Ardashir Vakil, Sinead Morrissey and Willy Vlautin, who also happens to be lead singer of Richmond Fontaine. It's a great show, with some insights on the portrayal of India in fiction, and on the relationship between music and words. If you're too cool for school and out on Friday night, you can listen again for up to seven days after the broadcast.

Nicola

Spaced...

2008-03-26T05:15:00.005Z

There's a lot going on right now. Like Frankie, I am in Seattle, a business trip of my husband's that I've come along to help with. Meanwhile, I was on the radio today without even being in the country. How clever is that? You can listen again here as long as you get there in the next six days.

Someone pointed out to me last week that all the events going on should be up here and he was quite right, although I have been rather too busy doing them to have time for that blogging thing, you see. Anyway, here goes nothing...

I have a very interesting piece going out on Radio 3, the show called the Verb on Friday 4th April at 21.45. When I was commissioned on this piece, the producer suggested I may want to do something dramatic, or experiment with sound, so I set myself the challenge of writing a piece to be read with a piece of music. I'd already had a bit of a go at this, with the opening prologue to Starfishing, but I'd done that quite loosely because it was for print publication rather than recording, so didn't need to be an exact science. I chose a longer piece of music this time, seven whole minutes. It was the most challenging piece of writing I've undertaken in a while and took a whole day's work, with lots of reading aloud to check the timings. Finishing it was extremely satisfying and exciting.

Thursday 3rd April I'm at the Bookcase in Lowdham for my Notts launch of Starfishing. Frankie is coming along, and will be writing about it afterwards. She's having fun with this postmodern side she's discovered in herself and has no intention of crawling back into her book anytime soon.

Saturday 12th, I'm hanging out at the New Street branch of Waterstone's in Birmingham to chat to customers and sign some books from 11am till 3pm. Thursday 17th, 7:30pm, I'm talking and signing at Waterstone's Nottingham. Nottingham Central Library are having me on Monday 21st April at 2pm. 26th April is my appearance at the Cuirt festival in Galway, 5pm.

I also have a piece in this month's Left Lion and next month's Marie Claire so watch out for those.

I'm off to give in to my jetlag.

Nicola x

Happy Saturday...

2008-03-22T23:03:00.007Z

STOP PRESS - PICTURES FROM LAUNCH PARTY IN SPECIAL SLIDESHOW HERE------->>

(aren't I clever? Lol)

Starfishing is officially launched into the big, wide sea and it's slightly scary and very exciting, like most voyages out in the big waves of the book industry. I had my party on Wednesday in the City, at an old haunt, Browns on Old Jewry. I used to attend said establishment on a regular basis when I worked for Trading Technologies, as our office was around the corner on the Poultry. It was odd to be back there in that it didn't feel strange at all. It felt like coming home. It was the best kind of party. Just the right amount of alcohol, and friends from all the different times in my life. One from sixth form (my husband Chad), a couple from University, some from my time in the City, others who studied on the MA with me, and yet more who are more recent acquisitions, as well as quite a few people I'd never met before. It all made for a very pleasant evening and a good number of books sold, even though many of the people who came had already bought a copy ahead of the event. I'm now looking forward to pushing the book out into Nottingham waters via The Bookcase in Lowdham.

For the first time in a long while, I've been inspired to get out some canvas and a paintbrush. Part of this is to paint a rather special piece for a friend of mine, an 'in' joke of a picture, you could say. It was something I said I'd do in a less than sane moment but now I really want to. I'm also painting a Peppa Pig for my niece. Perhaps a less ambitious project but it's her birthday and I wanted to give her something a little bit different. Peppa Pig and her friends look easy to draw, but once I got started I began to realise why these little characters are so appealing. They're not that easy to get right - an exercise in the art of perfect proportion. I haven't drawn anything for years and this was a good way to get back into it.

I feel at a bit of a crossroads creatively. I'm not about to give up writing and try to sell my Peppa Pigs, but I do have all sorts of ideas running off on their own without my permission! I want to write a script for The Killing Jar, then I think that Starfishing would be easier, and make a great movie. I'd love to start my next novel; except I don't feel quite ready. There are so many ideas washing round and round my poor little head it's like a spin cycle in there and I feel slightly sick. Also, for the first time in a long while, I can feel my hair on the back of my neck. Yes, indeed, for those of you who thought I still looked like this, I've grown it all back, as you will see from my launch pics.

Maybe I will just stop and chill for a little while, and enjoy the parties.

Pictures from the launch toot sweet I promise... See the slideshow over here ---->

Nicola xx

Alan looking dapper at 80...

2008-03-12T21:37:00.005Z

I went to the Broadway Cinema for the Alan Sillitoe 80th birthday event last Thursday. It was 6th March, exactly halfway between Alan's birthday and mine. (Another Nottingham writer, Jon McGregor, is also a Pisces. Isn't that odd? I don't really believe in that stuff so it sometimes confuses me when I notice things like this.) It was also World Book Day and the release date for Starfishing.

It was the perfect way to celebrate, to listen to the great man of Nottingham literature talk about his life and writing. He was looking dapper, in a leather waistcoat and smart jacket and trousers. He had grown a beard, which took me by surprise and meant I almost didn't recognise him as he walked on stage. He was looking well too, with a spring in his step and a wave to the audience. The interviewer set him off asking how he got into writing and Alan didn't really need any help or questions after that. And it struck me again how brilliant it was that he still spoke proper Nottinnum.

And he had a lot to say. He reiterated the views he expressed to me at the Betty Trask Awards on the place of the editor, although he was somewhat more careful about how he expressed his thoughts on that in front of the large, fairly typically polite Broadway audience.

He talked us through the making of the movies, Saturday Night and Sunday morning and The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner, as well as describing his time in Majorca (with a j) after being pentioned off and aspects of his friendship with Robert Graves, who pointed him in the right direction when he told him to have another look at his stories about Nottingham. He discussed the censors back in the 1960s, and how he'd hated compromise. I get the impression that compromising, when it comes to his art, is something Mr Sillitoe is quite unprepared for. He was explicit about the imagery of Loneliness, how it's really about his experiences as a novelist and the borstal represents the censors. Although this wasn't exactly news to me (HELLO? My blog title?) it was still interesting to hear a writer talk so openly about his imagery. Most are guarded and somewhat mysterious about these things.

A friend of mine was reading Saturday Night and Sunday Morning recently, in preparation for this talk, and I borrowed it from her to have a peek at some of my favourite quotes. It struck me again just how perfect it is as a book. Just how simple, how well written, how there's not a spare word. It's amazing to think that he wrote this and insisted on it being published as it was, without being edited. It's clear to me from this piece of work that he is quite right; he does not need an editor. Being a lesser mortal, I think I do.

We were lucky enough to catch Alan down the bar afterwards, and Chad asked if he could take a photo of us together, which he was allowed to do. Look how I smile! I cannot help it. I am still starstruck by this man, whose words I answered questions on when I did 'O' level English. As Chad put it, he is a living legend.

I also got the chance to meet Alan's son at last, someone I've been in touch with by email and MySpace and so on for a while but never met in the flesh. Like his father, he is a gentleman of the first order.

Chuck Palahnuik (another of my heroes) says you shouldn't meet your heroes. I've ignored him too many times to count now and I beg to differ. Sometimes they are even better than you dare to hope. Sometimes, they are living legends and they'll pose for a picture with you.

Happy Birthday to us!

Nicola x

Starfish Soup

2008-03-05T00:09:00.002Z

Well, it's been a long road, but we're here at last. Starfishing is out this week. I've been down the shops and seen it on the shelves. It's up and listed as 'in stock' on Amazon. It's officially the end of the process, at least, as far as Random House and the UK are concerned. Now I just have to look at my American editing :)

And to go with the new book, I have a new blog. Do go check it out http://starfishsoup.blogspot.com , where you'll find Frankie escaped from the book! I'm going to be blogging there regularly, so subscribe to the feed or something. It's gonna be tasteh soup, I promise.

I saw something amazing on Friday night. The police in Nottingham City Centre arrested a bunch of drunken losers dressed as superheroes. We had to hang around to listen to the radio action; you couldn't have written this. I've found Superman, but Mr Incredible's still on the loose. Batman wouldn't talk, but we nicked him, and suddenly he started coughing. He's given us the identity of the Incredible Hulk. I bet they had fun all night. Police are looking for a GREEN man... You wouldn't like him when he's angry.

LOL. Only in Nottinnum...

Crazy, mad, exciting times

2008-02-21T00:02:00.002Z

I'm not talking about when I first met my husband, which this title could describe just as easily, but about the last few weeks.

I think people split quite neatly, sometimes. Those who like marmite, those who don't. Those, like me, who make lists, and those, like my husband, who don't. Actually, the hubby does have a 'to do' list on his iGoogle page. It has two items on it. 'Make a million pounds' and 'Sort out photos on computer'. I love this difference in scale. Personally, I am a total sad list making person, and my lists have recently exploded, what with articles and press and events, a new blogging project and all the other things associated with the release of Starfishing. But it's also partly because I keep setting myself extra things to do. It's like I can't sit still.

The National Academy of Writing has been interesting recently. We've had a good number of masterclasses but, possibly the climax, was when our president, Melvyn Bragg, received an honorary doctorate from Birmingham City University and put some time aside to speak to our students afterwards. It was a small, intimate session, and Lord Bragg had a definite message about the editorial process, and the need for some real, honest voices to help you grow and improve as a writer. I'm hoping it hit home. Our students are doing well, with lots of publication and competition credits, but there's always room for one person to say 'find someone you can trust who will be honest with you.'

Sometimes it seems like it's the most crazy, mad, exciting times that bring out the writing in me and now is no exception. Despite it being the most crazy, mad time to do it, I have also started my next big project. And that's exciting.

A little advert...

2008-02-06T14:03:00.000Z

My new novel, Starfishing, is out very soon indeed, the beginning of next month, and is available on pre-order now. If it's the same as The Killing Jar, it will be out and in the shops, as well as being sent out from online places, very soon indeed. Read more about it here or order it here, here or here!

Happy New Year

2008-01-24T00:56:00.000Z

So it's 2008. I can't quite believe it, really. I remember looking ahead at my life as a child, and thinking how I'd be soooo old in the year 2000, twenty-eight! I could hardly imagine it. And here we are, eight years into a new millennium.

More surprising still, the publication date for Starfishing is almost here. Being involved in publishing means you end up living ahead of yourself somewhat. I've been working towards March 2008 for nearly two years now. When I first heard the date, like y2k, it seemed a long way in the distance. I soon got used to it. And now it has crept up on me, unannounced.

I've been very busy with all the usual stuff since the year set out, so nothing has changed so far. I don't feel too much older. It was my niece's birthday today. She told me 'I don't feel eight yet. I still feel seven!' I know what she means.(She was a millennium baby, in case you're struggling with the maths.)

I saw my agent a few days ago. He came to speak to my students at NAW, which was jolly decent of him. We managed to get twenty minutes or so in to talk about what I might write next and it was quite an inspiring conversation. I have all sorts of ideas floating around my head now, and a few fastened down tight inside my notebook too. No! I'm not going to tell you here. You will have to wait and see.

And I need to overhaul my website. My current one is a good example of something that looks pretty, but has been designed with totally no regard for scaleability. And I should know betterer, with my background in software design! This is going to be a big job, and needs to be done soon, to accommodate all the changes for Starfishing. Oh the joys of self-employment!

Still, I got my PLR statement and the library service are going to pay me some money because people have been borrowing my book. Like a special kind of new year bonus.

Happy 2008 y'all!

Masterclasses and Creative Networks

2007-12-13T20:06:00.000Z

I'm not sure what has happened to this week. It's either been eaten by a large cat, or it's been very busy indeed...

Yesterday I had tutorials with my NAW fiction crew, plus a lot of masterclasses. In the same day, we had Ben Mason, a literary agent who is also our external examiner, talking about his job and the marketplace, Jim Crace and Mary Tapissier (a publisher) working with students on their narrative ideas and pitching skills, and Catherine O'Flynn talking about her experiences as a new writer and working with Tindal Street Press. It felt good. This is exactly the kind of learning experience we set out to provide for our students at the National Academy of Writing.

Today was Nottingham, and the latest Nottingham Creative Network conference. I was due to speak as part of the morning session, about my experiences getting my work out there and marketing myself. I had some hard acts to follow. Jake Shaw from Fire Factory gave a very motivating talk about being a creative person, how to negotiate with the 'big boys' and how not to undersell yourself. This was followed by Michael Pinchbeck on following the 'wildtrack'. I can't say I understood everything he was talking about (it was a bit too much like contemporary artspeak for me) but he gave the audience sweets, which was a nice touch. I wished I had thought to bring along chocolates or something to upstage him, but I had to go on with Powerpoint slides, which don't really cut it compared to sugary snacks :)

The afternoon dragged a little, and we did finish late, but overall it was a great day. As ever, the best part was meeting fellow creatives who are getting their work out there, and networking. It's a great project in that regard and I came home with a number of business cards. Which reminds me... I must print some!

I was coming home through St Pancras last Friday and found the international station moved there. I remember I used to commute via Waterloo every day. And every day came the naughty thought as I walked past the International terminal 'Don't go to work, go to Paris!' I never did listened. But last week, waiting for my train home, I thought 'I'll just go and find out what the prices are like these days.' Cue ten minutes later me standing with first class tickets in my hot little hands for a trip just after Christmas. I did want to keep it a surprise for my hubby - it's his birthday around this time of year too. But in the end I was just too excited and phoned him straight away.

Happy Christmas to us! Lol.

Nicola x

Proof is in the proof copy!

2007-12-10T22:19:00.000Z

At last, I have proofs of Starfishing; something that looks like a book that gets sent out to reviewers, as well as to other authors to try to get cover quotes. This is the point where it starts to feel real - that it is a book and is going to be out there soon. The first sales have gone through on Amazon too - I checked the other day and the book has a sales rank now :)

It's hard to read your own book and see anything but the process you've been through. You know it so well at this stage. I do wonder if there ever comes a time when you can read your own book as a reader, in any true sense. I'm not sure; I've had that kind of experience with a few short stories that I didn't read for years but, then I probably never knew any of those as well as I did my novels.

I am reading Starfishing, though. Making what I can of it. And I'm pleased with what I've done. It wasn't an easy book to write. Second novel syndrome hit at various stages and for various reasons. But I got over that, I finished it, and I am very happy with the result. Here's everything crossed that the reviewers are too.

Someone said something very nice to me today about my other book that's coming out next year; The Okinawa Dragon. Five Leaves press are publishing this as part of their Crime Express imprint. I've just sent my latest draft off to the publisher and am waiting on his comments. I have to say this was fun to write. 15 000 words, an unusual length, and to have the opportunity to write something like this to be published as a book is unique and very satifying. Long live small local publishers.

And long live the bigger ones that put my longer novels out there, help me make them read so well, make them look so good, publicise them but, most of all, make them look like a book. I don't think I'll ever get bored with seeing my name on the spine :)

Nicola x

Possibly the last Killing Jar event?

2007-11-24T20:58:00.000Z

One thing that has taken me by surprise about being a published writer is how much I've enjoyed the 'being on stage' bit. I didn't think I was a 'being on stage' kinda gell, but it just shows how wrong you can be.

Admittedly, the first couple of shots I had at it, the adrenaline was aflow; my heart still beats fast as I wait for an event to start and prepare myself for a reading. I wouldn't be natural if I didn't feel something at these times. But the shock is that I actually enjoy all of it. Turns out I'm a bit of a show off. This hasn't come as such a surprise to my friends and family - just me lol.

I was at Lowdham today, with crime gents (and prize winners) Chris Ewan and Allan Guthrie. I've read Chris's book, which was very entertaining and original, and I bought two of Allan's today and can't wait to get into them. He's one of the few people I've met along the way who are writing from the same point of view as me; the bad guys. I was into what he said about this, how the psychology of these people interested him more and how he was influenced by noir fiction and movies.

The last two events I've been at have been low key. Intimate, if you like, but it's all exposure and it all builds your profile, of that I am sure. My reading has improved immeasurably since my first time. I finally know how Kerrie's voice should sound out loud and I get into character. Which is a shame really; very soon it will be a different book I'm reading from. Frankie (my main character in Starfishing) has a very different voice, much more similar in tone to my own when I'm not trying to be Nottin-um.

I was struck a little by a strange kind of sadness today. The feeling that I'd been pimping around town with this book just about forever. The understanding that I was heading towards the end of that. I'm excited about the new novel, of course I am. A lot of writers compare putting out novels to giving birth, though I'm not sure it's quite that painful or important. Still, using that image, what's happening to me now is my kid leaving home. She's only two ffs!!! How will she look after hersen?

Time to focus on the new baby, next year, I guess. Or two of them. Or even three... We'll just have to wait and find out.

Nicola x

Blog silence

2007-11-23T20:20:00.001Z

Apologies for the lack of posting recently. I've had a lot on personally, have been redrafting the Okinawa Dragon, and been working really hard at The National Academy of Writing.

In the words of Arnie, I'll be back.

(Soon)

Nicola

Shots

2007-10-23T20:43:00.001+01:00

Those of you who read my fiction blog may have noticed that I somewhat lost interest a while ago now. I really tried hard to get back into it, but the 60x60x60 soap I'd set up for myself just wasn't doing it for me. It got so bad that, together with novel finishing, it contributed to me avoiding all of my blogs, and the blogging groups I was a member of too. I just didn't know what to do - I felt somehow that I had failed by not finishing the piece and wanted to bury my head in the sand and forget the blog had ever existed.

Then I came to my senses. The whole point of Shots had been to have some fun with my writing, get playful, and I'd got lost with that aim. So I found the 'delete' button and used the damn thing. I can't say what a relief it was.

The blog is still there, as are the short pieces I posted before the soap thing came along and spoilt it all. And now I feel like I can go back there and start posting again. Yay!

Huge thanks to the people who've been supporting me and encouraging what I was trying to do on Shots. You've been bloody ace and I love you all.

Nicola

Catch up

2007-10-20T20:01:00.000+01:00

It has been a busy, busy, busy time for me the last few months. I'm gonna do this Reduced Shakespeare Company stylie to catch up.

NAW. 12 new students. Ace. Fiction module starts soon and is gonna keep me busy. External examiner (who is an agent) gave us a good report and we have all sorts of meetings coming.

Went to New York. Met my editor Alexis for the first time (gorgeous she is) Molly my publicist and Nan Graham and other Scribner types and their New York friends, including Alexis's boyfriend Postell, a very cool and funny guy who is an actor and musician. New York was fabulous, the way it always is. Caught up with my old friend Bekah and her new husband Patrick. Went over the bridge to Brooklyn for a reading at the Candy Store (great venue) and to eat Pizza with Laurie Collyer, scriptwriter of the stunning movie Sherry Baby and the (eventually to be I am determined) stunning movie The Killing Jar, and maybe even Starfishing. Watch this space...

Went to Waverton. It was, like, the polar opposite of New York. Award was presented at the golf club, which had been turned into a tribute to the book by organisers Wendy and Gwen. The two ladies and their husbands, the Peters, did us proud with a great night of food, as well as entertainment provided by yours truly :) I stood up and mumbled on about my book for twenty minutes or so and people seemed to like it. The consensus was that The Killing Jar did wonders to win out in Waverton, as there really are residents who will give you a mark of zero for using a four letter word. They can't have voted for me! They certainly wouldn't vote for Starfishing lol. All I can say is well done Waverton for enjoying being outside your comfort zone for the near on three hundred pages of my book. It does you credit.

Birmingham Book Festival madness ensues. I do all night workshops driving around the West Midlands. Yawn. (Not boring but TIRED). Bad cold does not help. Off to Brum again today to perform and record my Radio 4 story. It went down well and made one lady cry. Yay! (Does that sound cruel and heartless lol)

Went to Nottingham Creative Business Awards dinner. Ate great food and enjoyed clapping and cheering as we bigged up our special arty types for what they've been up to of late. Writers Studio did not win. Member of the studio Michael Pinchbeck did, for his play The White Album, which I have not seen but have heard great things about.

Meanwhile have received typset pages for Starfishing and am reading them, as well as putting finishing touches to the Crime Express story The Okinawa Dragon.

Novel number three? I can hear it whispering to me from down the road...

A thousand words a day...

2007-09-15T23:35:00.000+01:00

It's just a good number...

A friend of mine who had been struggling to finish a novel for a while, and had started and stalled with several projects, suddenly overcame the block simply by setting herself this target; a thousand words a day.

I'm going to sound sickening, I'm sure, when I say I've never really had writers' block. I've always managed to write what I've needed to without setting myself targets. I've been able to go when it flowed and do enough to make up for those days when I'm only fit for editing. But talking to my friend made me wonder if perhaps I should try this thousand word target and see how it felt, for research if nothing else.

And, I have to say, it works. A thousand words. It's only about three pages, A4, double spaced. It's not that intimidating. Type for a bit, type for a bit more. Add a word, repeat times a thousand. A couple of scenes. About a third of a chapter. When you're rolling, you can knock it out in ten minutes.

A thousand words a day and you have a full length novel or, at least, a draft of one in a few months. That's pretty darn good.

So there you go. You got writers' block? Dr Monaghan prescribes a thousand words a day. Unless it's something viral, that should do the trick :)

I hope to post from NYC. See you there.

Nicola

Boo!

2007-09-14T20:11:00.000+01:00

Remember me? Thought I'd disappeared forever? Nah, just finishing things. Finishing Starfishing (which I'll need to finish again when the copy editor has finished writing questions on it) and finishing The Okinawa Dragon. Ha! You didn't even know I'd started that one, did you. A very short novella/long short story packaged as a book and published by a local publisher. I will get some information about this one up on my website soon soon.

But first I go to New York City. I've not been for four years and I can hardly believe it's been that long, but it really has. I'm looking forward to meeting my US publishers, and my Killing Jar scriptwriter and catching up with my good friend Bekah, and meeting her husband (she's meeting mine for the first time too!) And I can't wait to touch the ground in Manhattan again. I just love the place. Yay!

I may even have time to post blogs from there :)

Soon soon everybody.

N xxx

Harrogate Crime and Dina's chain letter...

2007-07-18T13:35:00.001+01:00

I'm very excited because I'm doing an event on Friday, and I haven't done anything like this in a while. I do enjoy them. Which came as a surprise to me.

Heads up, then, I'm at the Harrogate Old Peculiar Crime Writing Festival. A bit of a mouthful but it promises to be a corker. There's a party Thursday night, where I get to meet all the other writers and remember their names to drop when I come back :) Then I do my thing Friday at midday. The event's called New Blood, and I'll be sharing the stage with several other debut writers. To paraphrase, well, more accurately cut and paste from the brochure:

A quartet of exceptionally talented authors will introduce you to their very different first novels. Nick Stone’s Mr Clarinet is a noir tour-de-force set in Haiti, Tom Cain’s The Accident Man features action hero Daniel Carver, Caro Ramsay’s atmospheric and emotionally intelligent thriller, Absolution, is set in Glasgow, and Nicola Monaghan won a Betty Trask award for her darkly moving, twisty debut, The Killing Jar. Joanna Hines, novelist and paperback crime reviewer for the Guardian, chairs.

Joanna Hines in fact is the person responsible for the lovely review I had in the Guardian a few months ago so A It will be nice to know she genuinely did like my book and B I will be able to thank her in person, which I'm looking forward to.

Well, if you fancy a jolly out to North Yorkshire you know where I'll be. Full details and tickets available here.

Meanwhile this wonderful blogger has taken up the baton with Dina's book. Yay!

Nicola

Dina Rabinovitch

2007-07-16T20:10:00.000+01:00

I've become involved in a piece of blogging chain mail. I don't usually do chain mail, but this one is different. Your head won't fall off if you don't join in and you won't get lots of gold and chocolate or your biggest wish come true within 7 hours if you do. But it might just pass an important message on.

The point is breast cancer, and Dina Rabinovitch, a long term sufferer of the disease. Long term sufferer is an important idea, because such a thing, with breast cancer, did not exist until recently. Advances in treatment and drugs have changed this. Dina lives on the cutting edge of cancer treatment. She blogs about it here.

Dina's book is beautifully written and full of information. It made me cry, it made me realise how lucky I was and it made me check for lumps again. Thanks Dina.

I now need someone to continue the chain. The deal is, I send you the book, you blog it and ask for someone to send it on to, and continue the chain. Each blogger writes their details in the front. The first person to comment on this post asking for the book will get it. You can blame this minx for starting the chain. Thank you Minx.

Pass it on....

The Left Lion mystery

2007-07-10T23:40:00.000+01:00

The left lion in Nottingham's slab square is an institution. Everyone who grows up here has countless nights out that start there. Why the left lion? Nobody knows. Years ago, I'm told by older friends, it just used to be 'the lions' but it's evolved. How do you tell which one's the left lion? It's on the left hand side when you are facing the building, not standing outside looking out. There is even a (rather good) cultural magazine named after this most famous meeting place. And yet, although everyone claims to meet there, the place is rarely packed with people. How does that work? It's all a bit platform nine and three quarters if you ask me.

Today, though, there were hundreds of people there. The event was a meeting of minds or, at least, a photocall, for all of the creatives in Nottingham. And they came. And they all tried to stand at the front, which was quite funny to watch. Especially the girl in the hat who was just determined not to be moved backwards no matter what. You go girl! Lol.

All my creative friends have been banging on recently about how cool it is to work in Nottingham right now, and how there's a buzz, and how it truly is becoming a creative hub. I knew this. But to see it today in flesh and blood in the market square, it was quite something.

What's more, I met Troubled Diva, whose blog I've been reading for a while. And what a very nice man he is too. We talked blogging and people we knew in common, while drinking wine in the sunny mezz bar at the Broadway, and he had his caricature drawn. I love being a writer :) He was off to see Armistead Maupin afterwards, together with most of the Nottingham literazzi, but I didn't have tickets.

Talking of talking about blogging, I must point you in the direction of a new website I've been involved with which has just gone live; Bookarazzi. It's been put together by a support/networking group I was invited to join a while ago. It's a diverse group of writers who all have blogs and who all have book deals. That's probably as far as the similarities go. There are memoirists, chick lit writers, literary types, artists,... Actually, there is another couple of things they all have in common and that's talent and energy and ideas. Oh, that was three things. In fact, this is in danger of becoming a 'what have the Romans ever done for us' comment so I'll stop here. Visit the site. It is good there.

The Waverton Good Read

2007-07-07T19:13:00.000+01:00

I received an email this afternoon telling me I've won the Waverton Good Read. I'm very pleased and excited. I've been invited to a dinner and presentation in October.

The really cool thing about this prize is that it's voted for by readers in Waverton. Part of the aim of the whole scheme is to get people reading. I'm really proud to have won this on the basis of readers' opinions.

I'm now looking forward to finding my way to Waverton Village and meeting some of the readers in person.

Nicola

Starfishing, across the universe...

2007-07-06T15:45:00.001+01:00

So, the news from the coalface is that my editor is more or less happy with my latest draft. Perhaps some polishing, and she has a few questions, but no major work. Yay! The second novel is almost out of the way :)

I said it was all over bar the shouting. Perhaps this is where the shouting begins.

The image here is work in progress for the jacket. It's all moving along nice and fast now. I wasn't sure about this at first, but it's growing on me.

I went to see Irvine Welsh at Bookslam in West London last night. He was class as ever. Funny and entertaining and he 'did the voices'. Chad always wants me to 'do the voices'. There aren't many to do from The Killing Jar that are far away from the narrator's Nottingham voice, so coming from Nottingham myself I can pull it off. The Essex and American accents in Starfishing are going to provide me with a bit more of a challenge methinks. Help!

Happy Friday.

Nicola

Event in Harrogate on 20th July

2007-07-01T22:54:00.000+01:00

Just for a bit of advance warning, I'll be at the Harrogate Crime Writing Festival on 20th July. I'm well up for an event; haven't done one for ages. For more info and ticket details go to their website.

I'm also going to go to next week's bookslam. Irvine Welsh is performing. Should be class. DJs and all sorts of other stuff happening too.

Now I'm going to think about what to do about Shots and watch some Six Feet Under.

All over but the shouting...

2007-06-18T19:42:00.000+01:00

I finished Starfishing today. Well, I say I finished Starfishing, and that is not really true. I finished my latest draft of Starfishing. My editor and then the Chatto copy editor have yet to get their sticky hands on it, so there will be more work to do, no doubt. In fact, even painting it this way is slightly misleading. I've just printed it out and will be reading it one more time tonight and making more changes before I email it to Poppy tomorrow.

Will this madness never end?

And the strangest thing of all happened a couple of days ago. The book appeared on Amazon, available for pre-order. A book available for pre order that isn't even finished yet? What a weird world we live in.

I am looking forward to having a normal life again, to keeping more normal hours, to being able to socialise with friends and watch DVDs with my husband.

The Authors' Club Best First Novel Award

2007-06-14T12:23:00.000+01:00

I promised pictures from this ages ago, but it's taken a while for me to get my act together on this. So, here they are now. I didn't get a picture of the apple crumble, unfortunately. Damn, that was good :)

Nicola

Andrew O'Hagan announces and presents the prize!

Me speeching. You can't see here just how much my hand was shaking...

I point out to everyone how much my hand is shaking...

Group photo! Me, Andrew, the sponsor and the agent

Impromtu book signing...

Chatting with Poppy and India

The gorgeous Ms Orr

Kit Whitfield

Blogger rules

2007-06-09T18:26:00.000+01:00

So, I've moved my news page over to Blogger. This is for two main reasons. I was going to use MySpace, but they once deleted my whole account and, once bitten and all that. The second is that blogger rocks. It just does. Without wanting to be too disgustingly sycophantic, it's so easy to set up an account and post, and make it look pretty and professional. So here I am.

My second novel is going to be finished by the end of next week. I promised my editor this and, at the time, I did wonder if I was being a little ambitious. I'd had a workshop on the first thirty thousand words last weekend and there were so many points for discussion that I thought my head might explode. I wasn't quite sure how I could revise the novel and make it work.

But this morning, in the bath, I had absolute and divine inspiration. It came from nowhere as I read Come Closer by Sara Gran. I don't think it had anything to do with the book, though it's a great book. Still, it came, and I jumped out of the bath, all wet and inspired and rather archimedian, if that's a word, and wrote it all down. And now I know this book is going be all right.

If you haven't read Come Closer then do. It's the best book I've read for ages and ages. Thanks Maria for the recommendation.

Now I just have to write a story for the Bridport Prize - I've bought a postal order so I have to enter. That and write the long short story for Five Leaves Press. It's going to be called The Okinawa Dragon. I am most excited about being in a series with John Harvey and Stephen Booth, that has gotta be good.

Events this week: Tuesday 12th is very busy. At 3:30pm you'll find me in Waterstone's on New Street in Birmingham, for a NAW masterclass on the art of suspense led by Ken Follett. Then I'm off down to the Canal, to interview Mick Scully about his new book of gritty stories Little Moscow. Another recommend, great tight writing exploring the Brum underworld. Scary stuff, but my kind of thing. If you're anywhere near Birmingham and fancy coming along see the Tindal Street Press website for details. Next month, I'm doing my thing at the the Harrogate Old Peculiar Crime Writing Festival, so advanced warning on that. In fact, the above mentioned brilliant Nottingham crime writers will be fighting for a prize there too. How cool is that?

Right, moff to write them words, innit?

Nicola