As I write, joyfully...common pitfalls in my writing

It's been a few weeks since my last post, because I met an agent at the RNA Winter Party who asked me to send her 'something' from my new novel. Consequently, I've been tidying up my first three chapters of my current novel and not writing new blogs. I'm not holding my breath, but it would be fantastic to get some kind of professional feedback.

Said three chapters now off in the post, I wanted to write something about adverbs and the use of 'as'.

I've mentioned it before, I'm notorious for putting in adverbs after 'she said', 'he said'. I think it probably comes from school, where I was taught never to use the word 'said', but rather 'whispered', 'shouted', 'announced'...everything that is condemned as bad writing when you reach adulthood. So, I now search through my writing for 'ly', and am finding that I'm increasingly getting better at avoiding them.

A new problem I've just learnt about is the use of 'as'. I use it a lot, and that is apparently a sign of an inept writer. *Sigh*

'As' should apparently not be used to mean 'when', 'while', 'because' or 'at the same time'.

I have used 'as' to mean all of these things. Hence, I shall add it to my list of things to avoid doing.

A tenth of the way...

I've been writing my new book for the past few weeks, and it's finally starting to get somewhere. I've hit 10,000 words, which I'm telling myself is a tenth of the way. Nine-tenths to go, with the intention of finishing my first draft by 1 April 2012.

I'm taking a whole new approach to writing, and it's proving to be a worthwhile experience.

With my first two novels, I thought of a concept. For example, for my last novel I thought of the impact of a grandmother dying and leaving last wishes for her two granddaughters to broaden their horizons in very specific ways. Then, I pretty much started writing. The plot points came out as the story did, new characters emerged (sometimes unexpectedly), and even the endings were somewhat of a surprise to me.

With this novel, I'm trying to be much more strategic. An agent is only going to see the first three chapters, so I can't waste time getting the story started. I wrote a full synopsis, and then decided to start the story about a third of the way into my synopsis. With each chapter, I'm writing key points that the chapter needs to achieve. Once those points have been achieved, the chapter is over.

I think it's working, but only time - and eventually some feedback from others - will tell whether this book will go anywhere. Despite the strategic approach, this is a story I've long wanted to tell, and my heart is going into each (carefully constructed) sentence.

Your voice - stick to it or branch out?

My writing group met last night, and one of the topics that came up was about voice and style, and whether you should follow the market or just do your own thing. It's an interesting question and one that continues to remain unanswered in my own head.

I have completed two books so far, both of which have been written in a light-hearted, funny, chick-lit style. So far, they remain unpublished. But, I've also written a lot of short stories, some of which have been closer to the literary end of things (I'd say the literary/commercial divide, rather than pure literary). Quite a few of these have been published. So what's my voice?

In my experience, it depends on my mood and what I'm writing. I find the light-hearted stuff easier to write. But, according to the current publishing industry, chick-lit is just not being bought at the moment. One of my writing group last night was saying that rising food costs have led to the Tesco book purchase being the first thing to be dumped from the weekly shop, which has had an impact on everyone. So, I'm currently trying to write something else.

I feel instinctively if I can find the right voice for this book, it will start flowing, but I'm currently still struggling. Is this because I'm trying to write in a voice that's not my own, or is it just because I'm still learning how to be a writer? I feel and hope that it's the latter.

And perhaps, if I find a new voice for myself, I might meet with greater success. After all, anything that's worth having rarely comes easily.

Writing stories for magazines

Over the past year or two, I've tried to hone my craft by completing short stories for the few magazines out there that still publish fiction.

At the outset, I had no idea what I was doing. Pulling together a few stories I'd already written, I sent them off to magazines that published fiction. Of the first nine, just one was accepted. I realised I had a lot to learn, bought some more magazines, did some online research, and started over.

Of the online information available, Womag (http://womagwriter.blogspot.com/) is the unsurpassed Queen of How to Get your Short Story Published. Her blog has all the guidelines from the different magazines that publish fiction and she and her 450+ followers are involved in campaigns to keep the short story slot in magazines.

Thanks to Womag and my ever-patient husband who reads everything I write, I'm getting a much better hit rate. Every acceptance makes me feel like I've won the lottery. In the midst of agent rejections and the continued absence of a bidding war over my latest novel, seeing my name in print and receiving a few pounds for my efforts feels amazing. And, in the process, I've found that short stories are really helping me to learn how to manage my time, come up with new ideas, and adapt my voice.

Now, I read each magazine carefully, think of stories that might appeal to their demographic, and write specifically for that publication. The People's Friend, the Weekly News and Yours magazine have accepted my stories, and I feel like I now understand what they're looking for. Women's Weekly is still proving elusive, but I'm going to keep trying.

Wish me luck!

The Cirencester Writers' Group

I mentioned last October that, after the Cheltenham Literature Festival, I was setting up my own Writers' Group. I thought I'd take some time to put down the two common pitfalls of writers groups - both of which I've tried to avoid in my own.

Pitfall one: amateur hour

Let's face it, nearly everyone has plans to write a novel at some point. We all fancy ourselves as expert graspers of the English language (is 'graspers' a word? Oh well) and believe that we have something to say that will thrill everyone else. However, most people with such a dream fall at the first hurdle, which is to put anything down in writing. A goodly number fall at the second hurdle, which is to put anything down in writing that is readable. Then, nearly all the rest fall at the third hurdle, which is to put anything down in writing that is publishable.

People who are going to fall at hurdles two or three are those who tend to attend writers' groups. I have, however, met a woman who wanted to join my group, despite telling me that she was an artist and had no plans to be a writer...she just liked 'creative people'. Oddball. Anyhoo, I wanted to find those people who were on the way to the finish line, rather than those who were never going to make it past hurdle two or three. After all, if I want to make it, I want advice and support from people who are likely to make it themselves.

So, when I asked people to join my writers' group, I specified that it must be for people who are serious about their writing. Only those who were intent on reaching that finish line of publication were invited.

Pitfall two: style wars

I want to write commercial fiction. I see no shame in this. Why on earth should I? Wouldn't all writers want their work to be read and appreciated widely? Well, no. Unfortunately not. Many writers (even published ones, but I've personally found many unpublished ones to be worse about this) think that the sign of good writing is that nine-tenths of the population have no idea what they're rabbiting on about. Not me. The last thing I wanted for my writers' group was a wannabe writer looking down their nose at the rest of us while we groped our way through their muddy prose, informing us that we didn't have the intellect to understand.

So, when I asked people to join my writers' group, I specified that it was for people who wanted to write commercial fiction. And, by commercial fiction, I meant anything that sells well.

The story so far...

So far, it's gone really well. I started off with fourteen names and email addresses at the Cheltenham Festival, and ended up with seven people turning up regularly.

Like all groups who gather, we tend to wander off into chat when the opportunity presents itself, but I feel like I've learnt so much from each of the people who've joined. We each share our work and invite comments, and I've found that I put time and effort into the feedback I give as well. One of our number has even secured an agent! (yes, I admit, I'm madly envious, but it just spurs me onwards!)

And, you never know, perhaps in a few years, a publisher or agent somewhere might wonder about how it came to be that so many new authors hail from around the Cirencester area...

Fantabulous Feedback

Shortly before my birthday in April this year I finished my second novel. I feel pretty good about it - it's definitely better than my last attempt and I really do love my characters (in the kind of scary way like they're my friends and we hang out together...sad but true).

The thing is, I did this a year ago. I finished my first book, gave it to my husband and sister to read and was told it was great. I then sent it out to all and sundry without the merest nibble. Having finished the second I've gone back to the first and can agree that yes, it's not very good at all. But why didn't anyone tell me?

One of the blogs I read is named 'the elephant in the room' - referring to the fact that lots of people can't actually write. But how are we supposed to know if we can't? Agents sure aren't going to tell us - only the most dedicated amongst them send anything more than insipid responses that provide absolutely no guidance as to what the problem was. Friends and family tend to just say 'oh, it's fantastic' - or worse, 'I'm sure it's fantastic', which is about as far from helpful as is possible to be.

What is this hypersensitive beast, the wannabe writer? The oddest thing about this world of the not-published is that, if you make it through to being published, you need to develop just about the thickest skin known to mankind. You need to handle having your year's work torn apart, mocked, criticised...even compared unfavourably with every author you've always sneered at yourself. Writing means exposing your heart and soul to the world and waiting for everyone to spit on them. So why protect the unpublished writer from the realities of the realm they dream of entering?

Personally, I'd rather know as soon as possible if I'm utterly hopeless. That way I'll keep my writing to myself and will stop spending half my time dreaming about having my words printed in an actual book by an actual publisher. Why can't agents just print out a slip saying 'Badly written - no chance of publication. Give up while you've still got a day job'...or, as the case may be, simply 'boring'? It would hurt, but at least it would be a sharp blow rather than the painfully slow chipping at your confidence that comes from those meaningless slips of photocopied paper saying 'it's not for me'.

Anyway, my new book, which is currently entitled 'The Sisterly Conspiracy' needed some harsh and uncensored feedback before I sent it out to agents. However, I know that my friends and family love me and don't want to hurt me, so how do I get their true opinions?

I started with my husband, who doesn't hold back. He read it, made loads of great comments and generally proved himself to be a pretty outstandingly perfect man by reading chick lit and (saying, at least) that he enjoyed it.

I then chose six people - three friends, my two sisters and my aunt - to get their views. I asked them to send all feedback through my husband so that it could be anonymous and they could be as harsh and critical as they liked.

Anyhoo, the feedback has come back and, while I expected it to be useful, I've been really stunned at just how useful it has been. In this one process I have learnt more about my writing than ever before. Interestingly, none of my friends sent any feedback (or read the book at all, it seems). My two sisters and my aunt read it and sent loads.

So...what have I learnt?
- I can’t seem to keep my finger on time passing - whether in the book or in characters' ages.
- I use the word 'seriously' way too much. Seriously.
- I’m a little over fond of commas.
- I use too many adverbs when writing speech (I noted, truthfully.)
- I would have sworn black and blue that it was St Suplice, not St Sulpice in Paris – I’ve always mispronounced it!
- While I know how to spell 'dyed' and 'tyre' my brain doesn't compute this when I'm in the midst of a writing binge. In those cases it is 'died' and 'tired'. Embarrassing but true, and perhaps a little Freudian?

And...not only was the feedback I received detailed and useful, it was also a fascinating insight into the different minds of my family members.

One person was an absolute guru on punctuation...another calculated that time had passed incorrectly (ie sunflowers blooming in April, trips stretching between 9 weeks to 6 months)...another gave advice about characters. Almost all the errors picked up by each had been missed by the rest, showing the value of multiple feedback.

Whether they like it or not, my aunt and two sisters have just been nominated to read every book I produce from now on.

Lucky them.

My first official sale

It has happened! At last.

Ok, so I haven't bagged myself a publishing deal, or an agent, but I have sold my first story.

The dear, darling, wonderful people at People's Friend have decided that my story, 'Don't Fuss, Vera!', was worthy of publication.

The news came just as I have made arrangements at work to start taking one day off a week to write.

Last May and June I went through a burst of short story writing, as I realised that my attempts to get an agent for my book weren't likely to be well received without any other writing experience (unless you count numerous academic and professional publications on heart warming matters like people trafficking, international corruption and human rights, which they don't).

I have to admit, when I started thinking about writing short stories for magazines, I thought it would be easier. I read the stories and thought, 'yeah, easy, I can do this'. But then I wrote nine stories in a couple of months, put them into little envelopes with a tiny fragment of my heart, and sent them off to all and sundry.

One by one, they found their way back home.

I'd already discovered the depressing effect of those little brown envelopes with my self-made address labels on them from my efforts to get an agent for my first book. Given that I used the same envelopes, I was never quite sure what to expect when I saw them sitting there, so innocently, waiting for me to take a deep breath, open them up and feel a tad more dejected.

But there was one, my little tale about a fusspot called Vera, that never returned.

I thought perhaps she had gone missing, that she had lost her way home. As I had submitted her last May, I figured that the postal service had let her down. I even thought about resubmitting the story, because it felt good. My husband loved it.

But something stopped me from doing anything about it. Perhaps because I didn't want to see dear old Vera turn up in a brown paper envelope like the rest of them, attached to a little note saying that she was trite or predictable or some such.

And then, after months of not daring to hope, not daring to check, of still having to resist the urge to rummage through the post urgently every day, she came back when I least expected it, complete with a letter telling me that they enjoyed it!

How sweetly do those words ring after almost a year of 'it's not for me', which seems to be the phrase that agents and publishers think are the least offensive to writers' sensitivities.

It was lovely to see her again.

Feeling discouraged

It's been a few weeks since my last rather hopeful post, and I have to admit that I'm starting to feel a little discouraged. I've started a new job, which I'm absolutely loving, but what with my upcoming wedding and a house that needs more than a lick of paint, I'm no longer finding the time to write. I miss it terribly and try to fit it in where I can, but sometimes I just can't justify heading to the computer when there's a thousand and one things to be done. So that's my first problem.

The second problem is that the rejection slips for my first book are starting to come back in droves. Well, at least it feels like droves. I've received 6 so far. The only one that actually got to me was one that stated that my submission had been 'carefully considered'. In most cases, that wouldn't bother me, but I know that I put the darn thing in the post on 30 June, and the letter dated back said 1 July. Sounds to me like it slipped through the door and was sent straight back out again. Fair enough, if you've got dozens of manuscripts to look through, but my goodness golly gosh I wish I knew what I was doing that was so obviously, easily, unmistakeably wrong.

The thing is, I never actually intended to submit this book for publication. It was supposed to be my training wheels for writing. But a few people read it and encouraged me, and now I'm starting to wonder if I made the right choice. I know it's hard to be published, but I'm starting to lose belief in my own book, and that can't be a good thing. Perhaps I should have waited until I had written something I thought was the best I could do.

I've also received three or four rejections from my short stories. I know, it happens to everyone, but I feel like I need just the teensiest scrap of something positive to feel better. I can't stop writing, that won't happen, but it would be nice to feel confident about it again.

Sorry, I've got the rejection blues, so I'll sign off here.

Writing from home - and surprise interruptions

I work full time, and write in my spare time. This generally equates to maybe 5-6 hours over the weekend, depending on where I am and how much time I can spend locked up with my computer. Thankfully, my fiance likes reading in coffee shops, so we generally manage a few hours there over the weekend.

But I've recently finished one job and am on three weeks leave until I start another. Bliss! I'm on day five of not being at work, and day three of having my fiance go off to work and leave me to my own devices. Yesterday, I wrote 13,000 words of my new book in one day. That's a record for me, and I'm feeling rather proud of myself right about now. I've worked out a fairly effective system, which consists of spending the first hour or two after he's left propped up in bed, 'under the duvet', Marian Keyes-style, I suppose. When either my rumbling stomach or my greasy hair forces me out, I shower and head downstairs to my couch, where I've set up a rather nice nest of cushions to prop up my neck. There I stay until my stomach demands lunch (I am somewhat directed by my hunger pains), which I eat while trying to do something other than writing - such as watching TV or reading. After lunch, it's time for my grand venture outside. This generally consists of a fifteen minute walk into town and a couple of hours typing while sipping a soya latte in one of the various coffee shops around the place. Around five-ish, I head home, do a few more hours then cook some food up for dinner. Yes, those hunger pangs again.

The thing is, today my schedule has been knocked off a little by various interruptions. In my duvet period, I was surprised to hear the doorbell ring. Smoothing my bed hair and chucking on a dressing gown over my extremely dorky pyjamas, I discovered the water meter man standing outside. Together we emptied out the cupboard under my sink to find my meter (I only moved in about six months ago so had never even thought about its existence before), and then I spent a good ten minutes after he left putting it back in order. My reverie interrupted, I headed for a shower. After the shower, I picked up my laptop and was heading downstairs when my smoke detector wailed into life. It doesn't like steam, you see, and I'd left the bathroom door open. Cue me jumping up and down, desperately trying to hit the off switch. Which lasted approximately two seconds before it decided that it really did detect smoke this time. I eventually found a long stick and used that to turn it off approximately 47 times before it finally stopped. Right. Then I headed downstairs, put the laptop on my lap and started writing, pleased to see on one of my obsessive word count checks that I had already done 5,000 words this morning. Perhaps 13,000 isn't my record, I told myself, hopefully. I was in the middle of writing a sweet scene, where two of my favourite characters first get together, and I was quite enjoying the ambience when my bell rang again. Two lovely old ladies were outside, hoping to interest me in their church magazine. Not really my thing, but they weren't pushy so I wished them a nice day and didn't mention anything about the interruption. That was my good deed for the day. Returning to my scene, taking a deep breath and starting to type, I realised I'd lost it. So here I am, writing my blog about being interrupted instead of writing my book.

I'd better try to get back to it. No doubt the cat's going to spontaneously combust any second and I want to get another few thousand words written first.

Am I a writer yet?

What is a writer? Is it a person who writes or a person who writes and is read?

On 30 March 2009, I finished writing my first novel, which I had started back in August 2007. I hadn't been working on it solidly during that time, but in bursts of activity. Finally, early this year, my fiance told me that he wanted me to finish it before my birthday, which happened on 1 April 2009. So I did. Thank goodness for supportive partners, right?

After that, I started sending it off to agents. The thing is, the agent concept is very confusing. Do you go one at a time? Some agents will reject you if you don't. But then some agents won't ever reply, so how long do you give them before approaching another? It's all very hard to say. I'm taking the gently-gently approach, but I might change that as things move on and no responses come back in. The only response I've had so far was emailed to me four days after I popped the letter in the post, and so I didn't feel that it had reached the desk of the powers that be. Of course, I discovered later that I'd forgotten to double space the last two chapters, so I'm telling myself that was why they rejected it. Hey, it works for me.

It also seems that cover letters must list one's publications. The whole point is that I'm not published, and it's my first book. Somewhere, in the process of writing my first book, I should also have been writing short stories and getting them published in magazines or winning competitions with them. So I've started on that as well. Nine of my stories, some of which are the kind of thing I enjoy writing, some of which are not, are out there floating in the ether being considered by various magazines. It seems that willing them to be accepted may not be enough, as I received my very first rejection slip today.

And, of course, in order not to focus on the success or failure of my first book, I've started another. And another. And another. And another. Yes, I have four new books currently underway, and it is making me feel a little unfocussed. One I loved the idea for, but just can't seem to get it going. The other I find pours out of me as easily as breathing, but I'm not really enjoying writing it. It's a bit more serious than what I usually write, and it's a lot harder to inject some humour into it to keep it readable. The third is just an idea at this stage, focussing primarily on the joys or otherwise of being thirty, and it's probably the closest thing to being autobiographical. And the one that is keeping me up at night wondering about it is the fourth one, a story about three women, told from various perspectives.

So, am I a writer? I write every spare second I get, and I love it. Writing puts me into a relaxed, energised and happy mood. But, conversely, I don't want to think that no one is ever going to read what I write. Part of the joy is thinking that they will. I know I have a long way to go, and probably thousands of rejection slips to read, but it would be encouraging if something positive came back.

Does being published make me a writer, or can I be a writer without being published? Do I want to be a writer without being published? Could I stop writing even if I wanted to? Am I overestimating the joy of being read and seeing my work slated on Amazon?

Anyway, enough questions. I gotta go write.