Mad Hatter or really a writer?

I think I must be a very fickle woman. I flit about between writing and making and while I might concentrate on one at a time, I can’t quite commit fully for ever: when I’m writing, I think I can live without making and vice verse, but eventually I realize I need the other one in my life too. And I dump the one I’m doing for the other. For a bit. ‘Til next time. Fickle, see?

I dumped writing back in February. I flirted a bit with jewellery but my talents didn’t lie with metal; too small (bananas for hands) and too tough (I was a bit scared of the material’s needs (fire!)

As a maker (I have never been very comfortable with the word sculptor. I think perhaps my interest in craft - as opposed to fine art – makes me more comfortable with the notion of being a maker. Though when I did my fine art degree, craft was considered by some, the poor cousin) Anyway, as a maker, I’ve always been materials led but it can’t be any old material. It needs to be right.

As well as being fickle, I’m a courses ‘whore.’ I do LOVE to learn. And after several summers taking Arvon courses (writing) this summer I chose millinery. Long term readers will know that I’ve dabbled in making headwear, though god knows after this summer, I’m a bit embarrassed about them. Still, there’s a learning curve to everything, eh?

Here then, modelled by Daughter, are the two pieces I made during an AWESOME three day workshop with the enormously talented Bridget Bailey, of Bailey Tomlin. See, I’m never writing again; it’s making (hats) all the way from now on…

Wednesday's Windows

Good morning. I am post Pilates class today so am feeling pretty chipper (and clearly from circa 1960...)

Today's window is dedicated to all the writers and readers in my life. It's from Jaspal. I first spotted it in Emporium, my local mall; but then, from a taxi, I saw the whole front window at Terminal 21 decorated bookishly. Sadly some of the pictures were a bit reflection heavy and it was beginning to spit I didn't hang around for a drenching in the afternoon downpour.

What's not to love? My favourite trick, playing with scale, makes another appearance and it's in celebration of books and writing. Brilliant.

Jaspal Emporium

Jaspal Terminal 21

Jaspal Terminal 21 close up

On Tea (mine) and Tenacity (Liz's)

Yesterday I did a guest post over at Liz Fenwick’s blog. I was talking about tea; actually I was talking about life in a foreign country but channelling the tea theme. (And do go and look at my sister’s beautiful teapot, which has a starring role in the post.)

Liz and I met online as early Novel Racers. I think I’m going to make her blush but have a huge admiration crush on Liz. She was already taking her writing seriously when she joined the novel race but she has shown such tenacity through those years of learning the craft, that… well, I just really admire her. I know a teensy tiny bit how difficult writing a novel is and I hadn’t even got to the rejection stage!

So this month, Orion is publishing Liz’s first novel, The Cornish House. I cannot wait to read it.

Liz was always a great support to me when I was writing and I am enormously grateful for that. It leads me to thinking about my own experience and of my recent giving up status. Have I given up? Have I stopped just for a bit? My good friend, P – of the ‘total strangers for Christmas’ episode…. (Gasp! I don’t think I’ve ever recounted that story on this blog. There’s a post for this week, then.) Anyway, P asked me yesterday on skype about my writing and how I feel about not doing it. I’m still very happy with the decision. I often have ‘mmm, that would make a good story’ thoughts and I think regularly about the non-fiction book, which I think has real potential if someone else hasn’t already written it by the time I get my act together. In fact, I’m pretty sure I will write fiction again but right now I’m happy because I'm still creating: I've returned to my art roots for the time being. More on that another time.

Sunday confession

Back in January I made the decision to stop writing. I gave up; retired. It was a relief. Writing (or failing to get my novel what I wanted it to be) had begun to make me really unhappy.

I thought about why I’d begun writing a novel in the first place. It was something I’d always wanted to do but like so many people, I only talked and thought about doing it. Then one day, I stumbled across a blog that invited anyone writing a novel to join a race for support and camaraderie. It wasn’t easy but it made me happier than unhappy.

I have a not-so-secret confession which people rarely believe - I don’t have any burning desire to publish. I wanted to write the best book I could just for the sake of it. There’s something about the process of writing (and making art or craft, come to that) that does it for me. And having to turn my creation out for anyone’s scrutiny (publication or exhibition) brings me out in hives.

And so I did write a novel: 107,000 words of story, a beginning, a middle and an end. Most people spend their lives saying they want to and never do it. I did it and I should be proud of that.

Over the five years that I’ve been writing I’ve had breaks from it; periods of laziness or frustration and even though I’ve longed to give up, I haven’t been able to stop; not completely anyway. There has always been something inside that I identified as a need to write. However miserable it made me I had to continue to do it.

Two months ago, for the first time in four or five years, I felt as though I had a choice. I don’t know what had changed, except perhaps that the unhappiness outweighed the pleasure and I felt as though I’d been released from something and that I could stop writing. It was liberating. There was some grief too but mostly there was relief.

I began to attend jewellery-making classes instead. I feel that making uses a totally different part of my brain from writing (although maybe it doesn’t or shouldn’t) but when I draw or make I go to a place where nothing intrudes. I struggled to find that place in writing… I’m going to come back and tell you about the jewellery course tomorrow but here’s the funny thing:

I have begun to think about my next writing project.

RAKE WEIRD TEAM

I've failed at the 'being a better blogger' already, right?

What have I been up to?

I have been writing. I've done 10,000 odd words of novel and 1,500 odd of non fiction book. 

I've had some migraines; raced about Bangkok looking for pink computer covers for Daughter (it had to be pink; HOW many malls? I found it at Fortune.) I've tried to have a life too. I've attended book club and a coffee morning so that I remember how to socialise and today I've been back to Wood Street with my friend K. She needed some furniture and I needed wanted some letters. Daughter and I wasted quite some time making anagrams with my new letters.

Now if you'll excuse me I've 500 words left to do today.

Here are my wooden letters:

Voices in my head

I had a bad writing day yesterday; like in the old days. Voices in my head telling me it was all crap, asking why I was wasting my time. It would never be any good... And when I read back what I'd written, why, sure enough, the voice was right.

I buckled for a bit. It was a bad morning. Then I realised I just had to tell it (the voice, my editor, the devilish creature, whatever the hell it is) to bugger right off. My goal isn't to write a perfect manuscript but to get the story in the right order.

Husband took me to a newish Japanese canteen a few doors away where I inadvertently ate wheat noodles (I thought udon were rice noodles...)

Then I got a tuk tuk to Starbucks in soi 49. It was lovely and cool in there and I settled into a sofa to try and write.

It was tough, I won't lie. I people watched; checked out Twitter and Facebook and I wasted at least ten minutes taking these photographs of the plant shadows on the blind.

But I wrote until I was 25 words short of today's aim, 4000 words. No matter how hard I tried those 25 words wouldn't come.

I will try and make up for it today.

Hello? *Waves*

I'm sorry I've been AWOL.

What have I been up to? I've been to the UK and eaten quite a lot of cake - most of it wheat free but not all of it. Sorry body. It was my Dad's 82nd birthday and Daughter and Sister made him a 'light chocolate cake' from Harry Eastwood's Red Velvet Chocolate Heartache book. It was quite simply the best cake I've ever eaten.

My sister taught me to make tzatziki and I cooked quite a lot; most out of character.

I raced like a maniac around the countryside seeing people and doing things but people drove and trained around England to come and see us too. Thank you people. Several things got cancelled and we weren't able to reschedule and other things didn't get arranged in the first place. I'm so sorry to people I didn't manage to see.

We got back to Bangkok just in time for Sister in Law and her family to arrive. They had a week in the city and then we all set off for a week by the sea - Koh Samed. I'll skim over the fact that I had what I think might have been flu while there. At least I could look at the sea while I felt crap.

And then the kids went back to school and it felt like we'd never been away.

I feel very 'start of a new term' though. We've started planning for our Melbourne Cup hats - I am feeling very excited about these. And I've bought myself a food processor (both Husband and I bought food processors to the relationship. We both had them as students and bits had broken off so that nothing fitted together in the end. They were judged too falling apart to make the trip to Thailand. Both were twenty years old which I reckon was pretty bloody marvellous and is why this week I bought a new Kenwood.) I've continued to cook quite a lot - tzatziki, hummus, leek and potato soup, guacamole. I'm failing to buy sweet potatoes in Bangkok at the moment so I can make Leon's sweet potato falafel. Leon says it must be the ones that are orange inside. Somewhere else it said there are Japanese sweet potato and the internet said that what Americans call yams, often aren't. Or something. So I keep going to gaze at sweet potato shaped things in greengrocers, wondering if they're the right thing to buy.

And I'm writing. I've had five days of storming writing or rewriting to be accurate. I appear to have worked out what needs doing with the novel and I feel a bit floaty about it.

I'm beginning to think the fairies might have dropped in and exchanged me for a slightly better model.

A short story competition at Five Stop Story

Please welcome my guest Ruth Heald who gave a talk at the recent Bangkok Literary Festival about her project ‘Five Stop Story.’

Welcome to my blog Ruth. Five Stop Story is an intriguing title; what’s it about?

A “five stop story” is a story you can read in five stops on the tube in London, or in about 10 minutes.

I started the Five Stop Story project to discover and publish short stories that can easily fit into modern lives. As people get busier and busier they find it harder and harder to find the time to read. At the same time, they now have the technology to read on the move. They no longer have to lug a book around in the hope that they will find somewhere to read it. They can read on a mobile phone, an ipad or a Kindle.

So people have less time, but they can now read anywhere. This means that they can fill their spare moments with fiction. They can read on the tube to work, or while they are waiting to meet someone for coffee. The ideal medium for these spare moments is the short story; fiction that will fill the time, but you won’t have to abandon half way through.

Five Stop Story aims to fill these spare moments with stories by new writers. We are running regular competitions to discover these writers and the competition prize includes publication on the website and our forthcoming mobile application. The mobile application will enable people to read stories by up and coming writers on the move. 

The Five Stop Story website launched in November 2010 and the first competition ran in January 2011. Five Stop Story is supported by the Arts Council and will be launching its mobile application in September this year.

The theme of the current competition is travel and we are looking for stories of 1,500 to 2,500 words. As well as publication on the website and mobile application, the overall winner will receive a copy of the book A Moral Murder & Other Tales from the Blue Hills by Sangeetha Shinde Tee. 

To find out more and read the stories by previous winners please visit our website. 

Thanks for the guest post Ruth and the very best of luck with the competition.

The deadline for short story entries is Sunday 26th June. Ruth's blog can be found here and you can follow her on Twitter @FiveStopStory.

On stupidity and being married to Jason Bourne

If I feel as though I’ve spent the last month packing, unpacking and repacking my suitcase it’s because I have.

I tried to be all relaxed during my travels, leaving my lap top in Bangkok and only taking my ipad but I wasn’t cool at all – just too stupid to understand how to get the most out of it. If I ever had a period where I kept up with technology (and my family say I did – for about three months back in 2008) it’s gone now; I’m trailing behind all over again.

I spent ten days in England (in five different venues) one week in Bangkok and then a week in Laos (Vientianne and Luang Prabang) for Thai – and Laos – New Year. I was so glad to get back to Bangkok on Saturday evening even if it meant more unpacking. At least this time the suitcase can go away until July.

This last month has been a rollercoaster of emotions too. I gave up writing and started again. Three good friends – those that I’d turn to in a personal crisis – are leaving Bangkok in the next few weeks and months. Husband took Daughter to the airport for a long anticipated trip to see her BF in Australia. On checking-in they were told she couldn’t fly because she had no visa. (She’s British; who knew she’d need a visa?) Husband went to an internet café and managed to get her cleared and she flew but it gave me three long days of palpitations for not checking in the first place… I mean she’s British… Commonwealth countries? No? We’ve had a horrible situation with a charlatan company with VERY DODGY practices that gave me the heebie jeebies for a week. I handed the problem over to Husband while I ran around in small circles weeping and squealing. I'm excellent in a crisis.

But the good news? Well, we thought this weekend was Easter so we spent yesterday eating chocolate. I think we can do that all over again next weekend, right? And Husband is a hero; firstly because of solving AustraliaVisaGate and secondly for saving us $$$ by his calm negotiations with Charlatan Company. He IS Jason Bourne… Oh give the man a break; it’s his birthday today. He IS Jason Bourne.

See you tomorrow.

Running away

With the need to look critically at my novel my demon critic is back sitting on my shoulder; and he's... well criticising. I have written numerous blog posts during this last fortnight and deleted them all. B*stard.

The problem is that I can't entirely silence him. I need him and his constructive critique to help me make my book better but he's a devilish little thing and sometimes he just creeps in and criticises everything - he must be a bit dim because he can't tell the difference between constructive and destructive.

So let's start slowly, with some pictures.  We went away for three days to Hua Hin this half term week. I had a look on the internet for things to do and found Hua Hin Hills Vineyard forty kilometres away. I had heard a vague rumour that Thailand was growing grapes to make western style wine but I thought it was up north. I have minimal interest in vineyards (although my sparkling wine at lunch was incredibly good) but when I saw that we could tour the grapes and olive groves on elephants the deal was sealed.

I adore elephants. I thought five years ago that we would do an obligatory elephant ride during our first holiday and then it would be ticked off the tacky but essential tourist list but I go back again and again. I am in love.

I think I might run away from home and become a mahout.

Not a Friday Photo

I’ve failed already in my ‘resolution’ to be a better blogger this year. Still, I might be on target with remembering family birthdays, which is my other hope for the year. (I know it's only 14th January and there's plenty of time to cock up but I've just bought cards for the first two. Last year I'd failed by the 26 January!)

I don’t believe in New Year resolutions: I reckon the moment of recognition (that something needs to be changed) can come at any time and when it hits you in the head… that’s the best moment to resolve to change. So, so easily said…. Not so easily stuck to….

I know it’s Friday and I should post a Friday photo but I haven’t got one that inspires me. I toyed with posting a photograph of me with my head down but I started to worry about the chins it might produce.

Anyway, that’s the reason I’m such a bad blogger: I am working on my draft.

Posting might be a bit sporadic here for a while.

Friday Photo: if you say so

Talli Roland's Amazon Web Splash!

Help Talli Roland's debut novel THE HATING GAME hit the Kindle bestseller list at Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk by spreading the word today. Even a few sales in a short period of time on Amazon helps push the book up the rankings, making it more visible to other readers.

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com

No Kindle? Download a free app at Amazon for Mac, iPhone, PC, Android and more.

Coming soon in paperback.  Keep up with the latest at www.talliroland.com.

About THE HATING GAME:

When man-eater Mattie Johns agrees to star on a dating game show to save her ailing recruitment business, she's confident she'll sail through to the end without letting down the perma-guard she's perfected from years of her love 'em and leave 'em dating strategy. After all, what can go wrong with dating a few losers and hanging out long enough to pick up a juicy £200,000 prize? Plenty, Mattie discovers, when it's revealed that the contestants are four of her very unhappy exes. Can Mattie confront her past to get the prize money she so desperately needs, or will her exes finally wreak their long-awaited revenge? And what about the ambitious TV producer whose career depends on stopping her from making it to the end?

Move over Flash Gordon

This was the view from my window when I arrived at my hotel: KL's iconic Petronas Towers, briefly judged to be the world's tallest building (the spires were considered to be 'architectural details.')

The highest up the towers that mere mortals can go is to the 41st floor skybridge, 170m above street level. Yes, you bet, I'll be in the queue for tickets before the week is out.

In the day the towers are different - more space age - but just as beautiful. I doubt a week will pass without a daylight picture on here. I can't stop looking out of the window to check them out.

But I must. I've got work to do.

Kicking my heels

My children go off on their school residentials tomorrow morning.

When we first came to Bangkok I had one child in primary and one child in secondary so their residential dates didn’t match up; I had to bide my time, listening to the other mums kicking up their heels over five days freedom. Two years I waited ‘til Daughter got into secondary.

In secondary the idea behind residentials – as well as all to develop teamwork, leadership, personal and social skills blah blah blah – is to clear out the school while the GCSE and IB mock exams are taken. I waited and waited and then I got my chance: that’s when I went on the wonderful Andaman Discoveries trip (see November 2007.) The second year I wanted mountains. I looked at a map; and discounted places I’d been, locations I planned to go to with family and arranged it all. Geography was never one of my gifts: Khorat turned out to be the flattest of flat plains. Not a mountain in sight. Not only that but there was a junior school residential inhabiting my hotel. Not my children but still, pah.

The following year was last year; Daughter went off and Son stayed behind to take mock GCSEs. Next year Daughter will do GCSE mocks and Son will take IB.

This year is my last chance.

In about an hour I will leave for the airport. I’m getting a flight to KL – Kuala Lumpur. Doesn’t that sound exotic? I’m dreaming of gin and tonics in a black and white world…. *sound of scratched record as I come to my senses* I’m not. I’m dreaming of coming back with my manuscript all in the right order. I will not worry about the prose. I will only worry that everything happens in the RIGHT ORDER.

I will not worry about the prose. I will not worry about the prose. RIGHT ORDER, RIGHT order, prose not worry …. Right order….

Beginner writer + instinct - experience/wisdom/knowledge = ?

I have finally conquered that niggling bit of the edit. I realized I had an instinct but I’d been batting it away; firstly, I knew how much work it was going to be and secondly, what do I know? Who am I to have instincts?

What is instinct without wisdom? Or knowledge? Or maybe experience. Should you listen?

When you’re learning something it’s really difficult to know whether to trust your instincts or not. But I have learned that when a more experienced writer than I has looked at my manuscript and made a comment, on several occasions I’ve said, ‘yeah… I sort of knew that.’ Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I know everything (oh dear lord; I actually know nothing) but quite often – enough times to become aware of it – I’ve had that little thought come into my head: ‘you knew this already didn’t you?’

I had vowed to listen a bit more to this voice but it can be quiet over the rest of the din in my head. Then on Saturday night it raised its voice, ‘you gotta get rid of the second library scene,’ it said. ‘It’s stealing the first library scene’s thunder. It’s gotta go. Hello? HELLO? Can you hear me?’

I could. I acknowledged Voice but it was late so I printed out the two scenes and went to bed. Yesterday I got up early and brought the two scenes together.

Then I saw this: “Good writers learn how to pare a manuscript down to its most essential elements, carving away the word count fat that marks so many beginning writers” from here and I knew I’d done the right thing.

Instincts are good but sometimes confidence is required in tandem.

Hello? Hello Confidence? Can you hear me? Can I have some please?

Here's a warning for you...

Oh I’ve been jumping up and down and squealing at the new followers. Thank you; thank you Rach for your Platform-Building Crusade. Actually I have to be honest I don’t like reciprocal following for the sake of increasing numbers but what I do like about this is that we’re all writers, right? So that’s not just for the sake of it…

Another confession I have to make to my new followers is about tea stains.  If I’m talking about writing it’s often a sign I’m not writing… obviously, to someone who wants to finish her book, this is A Bad Thing.

I’m trying to change the Bad Thing into Good Thing. Good Thing is writing; or editing. So I’ve implemented a new habit: I’m ending each post with an edit status.  Public humiliation tactic: progress (or otherwise) on my edit: page xx. This is working well in that I’m embarrassed to have to say I’ve done very little editing since yesterday. It’s good that I’m embarrassed but that’s not really enough. I need to move the embarrassment and inaction towards pride and action because I’ve made progress. I am determined that pitiful progress won’t happen again tomorrow. Watch this space.

So, when I’m not talking about writing because I am writing (Good Thing) I quite often post about my life as a British woman in Thailand or my family or something I see on the street, or somewhere I go. This might mean my blog is somewhat eclectic but that’s just the way it goes. Anyway, now you know.

Public humiliation tactic: progress (or otherwise) on my edit: page 39 

‘Stick to the roads; steer clear of the moors.’ Part Two

I was led to believe that Moniack Mhor would be basic but comfortable. I found it considerably more than basic and every bit as comfortable. It used to be a farm stead but to me the stone walls, dark wood floors combined with an arched mirror brought simple chapels to mind. Maybe it was the passion for writing and reading that I found inside. It was filled with books and posters and had soft, comfortable sofas where the attendees accumulated during the first afternoon over mugs of tea and glasses of wine.

These first hours are always a little odd. We went round and around our incomplete group checking out each other’s names. 

Gillian Philip and Erica Munro, our tutors, both local (ish) arrived to join us. The Director of Moniack Mhor gave us a talk on the building and the ethos of Arvon in so far as it affected us. Students are expected to cook (in teams of four) one evening meal during their stay. The menu and all ingredients are provided. Lunches and breakfasts are on a ‘help yourself’ arrangement, which means there is also a ‘tidy up after yourself’ deal. There are always people who do more than their share, as well as those who do less than their share. I suspect this can be a source of tension in some groups.

Classes were held in the morning and one-to-one sessions in the afternoon. Every evening something was planned, usually readings: our own work, an author’s work we admire, our tutors’ work etc. On the Wednesday night we had a visit from literary agent Geraldine Cooke.

My aim for the week was to dive into my manuscript and work out the new and improved structure; what needs to go where to tell the best story? I didn’t exactly achieve that but did accomplish something else. Back in March of this year I couldn’t see how to edit or what to cut but now I can. I’ve lost the fear for the mess that will ensue once I start moving bits of story around. And I got some faith back – this might sound mad – I believe that I will know in spite of the muddle what needs to be moved. I believe in my intuition again. I have it; I just need to listen.

There are so many wonderful things about Arvon courses: the dedicated time to write, to think about writing, to spend time with other writers and the experts – the tutors and the guests – who will answer all those questions that you have but haven’t known who to ask.

I’ve come away determined. I’m going to finish my novel and start subbing it to agents. I’ve got an idea for a radio play and I’m going to prepare and sub an idea for a non-fiction book I’ve been contemplating for several years.

Twit-her

I’m having another go at Twitter. It wasn’t a rip roaring success last time. Nobody believes me when I say I’m shy but I am, so there.

Last time, I signed up to follow my friends (and they reciprocated) and all was well. But the minute a stranger asked to follow me I had a bit of a breakdown. I stood in a cyber corner, watching, waiting until I felt a bit more comfortable. Not a lot of fun for anyone. Then there was a snarky comment and went and found my handbag and snuck home - without even saying thank you to the host. (Closed up the account to friends only.)

But I’ve been watching Twitter over this whole Bangkok/Red Shirt thing, and I thought I might have another go. I'd like to be part of the writing twittering thing.

If you’d like to follow me, you can find me here:


Get Twitter Buttons

I promise to try really hard not to be the party pooper in the corner.

A Writing Post

I’ve finally got back to editing my novel, Polite Lies. When I'm back in the UK in July (for good or as a holiday? Who knows? I certainly don't.) I have an Arvon course in July in Moniack Mhor (Writing Mainstream) and I’d like to have reworked the novel before I go.

But I’m a bit traumatized by this whole redrafting and editing process. As a flier by the seat of my pants I knew the end of my story but I had no idea how we’d get there. As a result, when I wrote it, I only felt equipped to write chronologically, A to Z. Now that I’m redrafting it seems obviously that there are lots of structural alternatives to this.

I’ve had several ideas for potential structure and frankly they’re all a bit (a lot) scary.

Am I any more equipped to reshape now?

There’s one idea that feels really radical. I can hear whispers in my head about rules being there to break but only if you know what they are. Do I? I’ve never seen this done before but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been done. Or it could mean it’s a jolly stupid idea.

I have another idea that would be writing half the book again. I quite like this idea but hell, scary. It involves something I thought I’d never do.

Eeek.