And they all lived*...

One of the general observations about my writing is that I don't really seem to do happy endings. Don't get me wrong, both the short and long fiction usually concludes with some sense of possibility for the future. And, by the time they reach the last line, most of the questions have been answered and the plot lines neatly drawn together. Even so, perhaps it's no surprise that I'm not famed for my 'heartfelt' and 'contented sigh' final pages.

I submit the following as character references:

Item 1. Years ago, Anne and I went to see Bridget Jones's Diary with a friend of ours from Germany. The last bit is only relevant because she lived in the UK at that time and her friend was over on a visit. Anyhow, there must have been a maximum of four guys, tops, in the whole cinema audience.

Our friend's friend turns to me and she says, "I am watching this film and I see all the people around us, laughing. But I notice you are not laughing and I am wondering why this is?"

I explained, "When I was 13 I broke my nose and frankly that was funnier to me than this film." I can confidently surmise that she didn't get that either. It's not true of course - there's nothing funny about breaking your nose, as I well recall.

The point is that I didn't connect with the jollity and comedy drama.

Item 2. I have, in the past (duh, well it couldn't be in the future), admitted that if I watch any TV programme with too contrived an upbeat scene or ending I get physically uncomfortable. It's like a pressure across the top of my chest, combined with a sort of cringing irritation. I'm not making this up.

Item 3. I've been to at least a dozen funerals. My brother used to say that I ought to have my own parking space.

However, in writing Scars & Stripes, which is loosely based upon a year I spent in the US, back in the late 80s, I've begun to really appreciate the skill that's required to send the reader or viewer away happy. Deftly done, it's a conclusion the audience was hoping for that still manages to surprise and enchant them. However glib or trite the 'reader, I married him' final minutes might appear (I nearly said dying minutes), it has taken thought and effort and craft to get you there.

So, am I a convert now? Well, somewhat. 

I've watched Bridget Jones once or twice since that time in the cinema, as well as Notting Hill and Love Actually. I'm more comfortable seeing About a Boy (apart from the Hugh Grant bit on stage, near the end, which still makes my flesh crawl - though it's nothing personal, Hugh), but I do appreciate them all.

It's easy to trivialise the value of spreading a little joy, especially when the Christmas schedules are awash with lashings of festive good cheer, redeemed Scrooges and families who learn the value of Crimbo just in the nick of time. As a counterpoint, a lot of comedy, from where I sit, can seem like a theatre of cruelty.

So, taking everything into account, even if I don't always manage to light them myself, it's good to see some candles burning away out there, telling the darkness to go whistle.

And speaking of a little positivity, check out Frequency - a film I found by accident that I've loved ever since.

* Readers of my novels will know that even this half of the sentence cannot be substantiated in three out of the four of them.

Better late than never

One of the great things about my brother was the way he'd introduce me to TV programmes or films that he thought I'd enjoy. He was invariably correct (up until the second series of South park, anyway).

Through him I encountered Spaced, Black Books, The Simpsons and Family Guy. Looking back, I don't know why I never got round to watching them unaided. The one film he insisted I watch at some point was The Big Lebowski. (He was also a Steve Buscemi fan, so perhaps he was a little biased, but we'll forgive him that.)

I haven't been consciously avoiding it since he died, but somehow the chances came and went. And it's fair to say that half the pleasure would have been in discussing it with him afterwards. As I'm journeying through The Artist's Way again, it seemed like a perfect artist's date to finally give the film a go. 

So far, this post is pre-written and you'll find my review at the end of the page.

The film has assumed a hugely symbolic significance before I even see it. I can still recall talking about it with him, back in his flat in Leigh on Sea. It was maybe eight or nine years ago and it seems like a lifetime now. If you'll forgive the irony, it was. 

David was enduring Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma and the chemotherapy, radiotherapy, UV treatment and everything he had to contend with. I was a different person back then. More understated, perhaps. Still wrestling with the implications of his cancer and endlessly cycling through some of Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's stages of grief like a hamster trapped on its wheel.

"Honestly, the film is made for you," he promised. I didn't know whether he was taking the piss after my year in the US, back in my 20s, or whether he was referring to some aspect of the plot (which he refused to divulge). "Just watch it and you'll see. Trust me."

Interlude

My cousin told me a story once, about my brother. She was at his flat and looked at all the photos on display. Close friends, mum and dad I think, and maybe one of my cousin too. But not one of me. When she asked him, he told her, "No need; I already know what he looks like." And then he went quiet and added, "I keep his picture in my heart."

Brothers can be like that. A Sunday session at a snooker hall or a suggestion of a film can be heavy with subtext. Nothing needs to be said because it's all there.

I thought about that when I was putting together the acknowledgements page for Covenant, which has recently come out in paperback. I'm pretty sure I sent David one of the many versions of the manuscript over the years. He probably said, "Yeah, it was...erm...good," like the time when he still hadn't opened my Christmas present on Boxing Day morning.

In the end I decided not to include his name in the list. But only because he's not around to read it. And if he is, in some shape or form, then it's like the photos in his flat - he knows and I know, and that's good enough for me.

And The Big Lebowski? I loved it. Absolutely loved it! Just like he knew I would. Without spoiling what is a cult film, I'll just briefly mention in passing there's one scene where someone's ashes are scattered. That scene stopped me short, caught in my throat a little and made me wonder if there wasn't a hidden message. 

I remembered scattering his ashes, with his best friend beside me as we stood amid the great oaks at the City of London Cemetery. I trailed two lines to form an 'x' - the runic sign of a gift, or a final, farewell kiss.

Only it's never final. Like the man says, "The Dude abides."

Mondays with Monika - 5

A little late this week - my fault entirely. Freelance writer, blogger and writing dynamo Monika opens her heart, lays bare the workings of her mind right now, and doesn't mince her words. Previous posts are located here: Part 1 Monday 22nd Oct, Part 2 Monday 29th Oct and Part 3 Monday 5th November and Part 4 Monday 19 November.

1. We've talked about some of the therapeutic benefits of writing about intensely personal experiences, such as catharsis and gaining a wider perspective. Having crossed that barrier, has it carried over into your fiction writing aspirations - wanting to write with similar intensity and honesty?
Do I write fiction? I haven't written anything, really, besides that short story I submitted to A Word with You Press about the weird fishman monster in the diner. I started writing "Fidget, the Magic Hamster" (a children's story about - guess what? - a magic hamster), "Monte Underwater" (another children's story about a boy whose house gets flooded and has adventures with a freshwater mermaid named Finn) and "Filbert the Ghost" (young adult novel about - guess what? - a ghost) a few years ago, but haven't worked up the ovaries to complete them.

To be absolutely honest, I don't think blog writing has changed or would change the way I write fiction. The way I write is the way I write. It's all the same, isn't it? Even realism is fiction, because I write about it through the filter of my perspective. I think of my blogs more as "creative nonfiction," which is a genre that seeks to find, create or compose meaning from everyday experiences. I think it's just basic storytelling, which is the same mechanism for fiction and nonfiction. Everything is story! Everything has meaning, if you choose to give it meaning. Everything is truth, everything is fiction.

2. Are you liberated or constrained by this approach?

Every time I write a sentence, I'm liberated.

3. How do you modify your writing when you're writing about someone else's experience, such as their grief?
I suppose I'd do what an actor would do - draw on my own experiences to describe theirs.

4. Have you ever considered getting involved with support groups and using your approach to writing (and the writing itself) in a specifically therapeutic context?

I haven't. But I've been encouraged to join a grief therapy group, to help me cope with the loss of my mom, and journaling is part of that process. Blogging is the same as journaling, except you press "publish" when you're done writing.

But I suppose I have to say that while journaling is considered a universal way for people to process grief, publishing isn't. Maybe that's because not everyone would find it therapeutic to have their innermost thoughts made public or shared. But for me, that's the whole POINT of writing - making the private public. The publication part is almost more therapeutic than the writing part. Almost. It's just - as I touched on before - the idea that if other people could see what I'm thinking and feeling, they would understand me and sympathize with me, even though I'm a selfish git sometimes. Like, you know - "Curb Your Enthusiasm." The protagonist is an ass, but he's a loveable ass. That's me.

5. Having been through this enormous life change, where do you go next as a writer?
Hold on a minute - I haven't "been though" it yet! I'm still going through it. Do I ever get all the way through it? Or will I process it for the rest of my life? 

But my husband has already suggested that maybe my mother's death is an event that will "unblock" me (to use a cliché) and allow me to finally finish some fiction. And when I say I started writing the aforementioned fiction works "a few years ago," I mean, like, 12 years. That's normal, right?

Or maybe I'll start something entirely new. Leaving something unfinished isn't failure, it's just exploration. It's taking a different path than the one you intended. And I think most people take these sorts of roundabout journeys: you start out doing something, 20 years pass, and then you come back to where you started. Maybe you see that where you started is where you wanted to be all along, or maybe you see it's become a crossroads and you can choose a different path. Or you can make yourself a martini and take a nap.

Mondays with Monika - 4

It's that time of the week again, as freelance writer and committed blogger Monika spills the beans. Previous posts are located here: Part 1 Monday 22nd Oct, Part 2 Monday 29th Oct and Part 3 Monday 5th November.

1. Does writing about topics that are so personal change the way you feel about them? Not necessarily making you feel better, but distancing you from it a little once it's on the page.

Yes, that thing you said - it puts distance between me and the thing. I feel relieved of a burden. It's like Dumbledore's pensieve - the page is a silver holder for my memories, so that I don't have to carry them around with me. If I want, I can go back and read or re-live that memory - or if I want I never have to feel it or think about it again. And if I do think about it, I can do so with more clarity for having written about it.

2. Do you look upon the finished, posted work as a piece of work in the same category as your other writing? And would you ever consider using it commercially (whether paid or unpaid)?
What other writing? Let's see: random texts, e-mails, edited blurbs for the Daily Insider, and the very very very very occasional magazine article. Is it different? I suppose. It's more "me." It's probably more likely to entertain, amuse, intrigu,e or offend the reader than other stuff I write. It's certainly more honest. Whereas I'd never reveal my true thoughts in a magazine article, I tell it like it is in a blog post, because the blog posts are written for me and an invisible audience. The Daily Insider blurbs are written for business owners, directors of nonprofit organizations, educators, philanthropists, and concerned citizens. They are a visible audience, because I see them around town and talk to them, and my job is to relay the news and not tell them about motherhood and grief and marriage and my garden and what I cooked for dinner and how come I don't like to fold sheets (because I'm short and the sheets are bigger than me and I just can't get them to fold neatly).

Of course I'd consider it using commercially. And of course I'd rather get paid. But I think I'd be just as excited, paid or unpaid. OK, maybe more excited with the paid option.

3. What's the best - or worst - feedback you've ever received about a piece of intensely personal writing? (I still have the letter written to me after my piece about my brother was printed in a national newspaper.)

Well, jeez, that's kind of tough question. I have some RF (Regular Feedbackers), but I have lately been getting a lot of random comments from readers who've stumbled onto the blog and are identifying with the grieving thing. I got a wonderful comment from a reader who basically said, "Yeah, grief sucks. I just lost my mom and my dad and every time I think I'm getting myself together I'm hit by a 'sneaker wave' of grief that knocks me sideways again." And I thought, "Wow, she read the whole post and it affected her enough to LEAVE A COMMENT." Even though I know people read the blog, it's always surprising when I get actual evidence of that fact.

The worst comment I got was when I was writing about my weight and I got some snarky comment from a person I imagine as sort of a self-righteous personal trainer type (or replace "self-righteous" with "asshole," if you prefer) who said that maybe I should go easy on the ice cream or something like that. I mean, well, DUH. I wasn't writing the post to get ADVICE. I already know what to do. I was writing the post because I was trying to work out why something that seems so simple (eat less, exercise more) is, in practice, one of the most difficult things to do, EVER, for 8 million quirky reasons that have nothing to do with logic or common sense. Which is why human being are interesting, no? We do SO MANY things that don't make sense, and don't benefit ourselves in any conceivable way. So shut the hell up, Asshole Personal Trainer Dude. 

4. Do you think that writing about personal matters requires a certain kind of...ruthlessness? Or does that only apply if the person you're writing about is still living?
I grew up feeling that my parents were always looking over my shoulder, because they were. I will never escape that feeling. I'm still worried about what my mom thinks, dead or not. I still don't want to hurt her.  My dad - well, he could probably take it. (But it's not like I've TOLD him about my blog, is it? Wimp.)

But if I knew a friend were to read my blog and I had something bad to say about him or her, I'd be scared of losing the friendship over it. I might choose not to write about it. In fact, I think I did lose a friendship with - well, it's complicated - a sort of ex-boyfriend-but-not-really from college that I got back in touch with over Facebook and I invited him to read my blog only I forgot that I mentioned him in my blog post that day and wrote something about a college romantic interest who was a commitment-phobic, whirling vortex of neediness with a big nose and for some reason I've never heard from him again.


So I guess I was ruthless that one time, but I still feel badly about it.

But seriously, that guy's nose was REALLY BIG.

Mondays with Monika - 3

I'm talking with Monika Spykerman, about the things that matter to her as a writer, mum (or mom, if you prefer), wife and writer (yep, two writers). Here, Monika talks candidly about her own blog  and about the ways in which she uses her writing.

Previous posts are located here: Part 1 Monday 22nd Oct and Part 2 Monday 29th Oct.

And, to answer last week's question - a spring peeper is a type of frog.

Okay, where were we? Do people around you know that you blog so openly, and does that change how you interact with one another? I once had a friend say, "Oh, I hope you're not going to write about me." To which I replied, "Not in any way that you'll recognise - and what makes you think that I haven't already?" Yeah, that's a good way to cut down on your Christmas card list.

Well, I quit sending Christmas cards a couple years ago. Not to save trees or anything, but just because I'm lazy. So that's not a problem and when I get Christmas cards I just throw them away anyhow. Seriously. I'm trying not to end up on "Hoarders." OK. What was the question? Um, some people know, and some people don't. Most people don't. It makes me uncomfortable to be a self-promoter in that way. Some people I've told, and they've been like, "Oh, yeah? OK, well, hmm. Great. OK. Have to check that out." And they never do. Like my lifelong friend who's an actress and I would drive all the way out to wherever to see her in a play, even if it was just a small part. I told her about my blog, and then it came up again about a year later, and she was all, "Oh, ha ha, I never even looked at it." But then, she's an actress and she lives in Hollywood, so what do you expect?

Some close friends I've told. One friend in particular, my bestest besty best best friend, reads every post. A few other good friends read occasionally. And some friends I've never told and I never will because it would make them pee their pants to know that I say FUCK.

My Dad, I don't know if I'll tell him. Other mothers that I know casually through school, I don't tell, not because I'd care if they read my innermost secrets, but it just seems so cheesy and kind of clichéd to say, "Hey, I have a blog!" because, seriously, EVERYONE has a blog. Lots of people blog about their personal stuff and post recipes and clever craft ideas and pictures and have funny stories about how they couldn't get the carseat in properly or how their toddler peed on the cat. And a blog is a wonderful, creative way to communicate with far-flung friends and family and preserve the - oh, I'm just going to say it - the precious memories of motherhood. So when I say I have a blog, that's what people think: random ramblings about an ordinary life in an ordinary way.

Which is - HA! - exactly what my blog is. So why SHOULD anyone read it? Good question. I think it's because the writing is good. I'm not just communicating with friends or recording memories, I'm practicing my craft. (Oh, PUH-LEEEEEZ. That's so pretentious.) OK. I don't know. I'm just writing. And I think I can objectively say (how can I possibly be objective about myself?) that my writing is a little more interesting - OK, "better" - than most other mommy blogs. God, I sound like such a twat.

Are you conscious of the need to balance out drama with humo(u)r, or is it a case of 'you get what you're given and I'll give you what I get'?
Yes. Nobody's going to read it if it's not funny. And it turns out everything's funny.

Is it ever too painful to write about? (And I say that having written / spoken about my brother's illness and death in detail, and recently including reference to our dad's funeral in a novel.)
No. That's like asking, "Is it ever too painful to breathe about?" or "Does grief keep you from urinating?"

* If there's anything you - that's you, dear reader - would like to know about Monika's blog and her writing, drop it in a comment. 

Guest spot - Stella Benson - Sparkle Puss

Stella Benson is a fellow writer, based in Cornwall. Unlike me, she's also a talented artist who has worked on many prestigious animated films including 'The Snowman & The Snowdog' a sequel to the 'The Snowman', to be screened on Channel 4 this Christmas.

In 2011 Stella combined her love of storytelling, illustration and design to create her first book 'Sparkle Puss: The Cornish Chocolate Apothecary'.

Her latest book 'Sparkle Puss: The Search For The Jaguar Bean', is launched on 3^rd of November 2012. I caught up with her ahead of a book-signing tour around the Far West.

We can skip the 'dogs or cats' question, but what was it that gave you the inspiration for a cat's tale?

I have always enjoyed writing about my daily observations especially when travelling.  In 2006 I acquired a kitten. I had always wanted two kittens that I could call either Galaxy & Mars or Frankincense & Myrrh. I named the kitten Frankincense and abbreviated it to Insie. Insie is a striking cat and with her amusing and intelligent nature, she soon started to inspire me to draw and write about her.  I initially started e-mailing one of my sisters, Susie, keeping her updated with ‘the Insie antics’.  With the drawings developing and the Insie antics growing, it seemed to be a natural progression to put it into a story. I make jewellery using glitter and rhinestones and became aware that Insie started to sparkle with the glitter that she was inadvertently picking up in her fur.  In 2007 the story of ‘Sparkle Puss’ began.

Which came first - the cat or the chocolate?
I suppose the chocolate came first, although I had been wanting a cat for ages. However my study of and interest in cacao and good quality and ethical chocolate really came first.


Your beautiful illustrations have such a vibrancy about them, have you considered creating animations of your books?

Thank you, yes I have been thinking about animating my books. I have contact with some of the very best animators, and background artists, etc. to enable the production of  what could be a really good film. It is only the funding I'm lacking as yet!

Are you conscious of wanting to convey an environmental message in your books?

The environmental aspect is very important to me. I'm passionate about organic production, and fair trading where possible.

What does the future hold for Sparkle Puss?

I can not know exactly, I have a third story outlined and I hope I will be able to produce a third book in the series. I really have to thank the people who bought the first book as the sales have financed the second book. At the moment that is how I am progressing, taking each day as it comes. Ideally I would like to find a publisher.  

What was your journey from inspirations to the printed page?

It took over 4 years to produce the first book. Having not been through the process before I had to learn as I was going along. The second book was much quicker to produce as the story was written a few years previously and I had a much better idea of how to put the book together.

What do you wish you'd known when you first started writing?

I can't think of anything in particular, it's all hard work, never easy!  

Do you wear different hats as a writer and an illustrator?

Not really, although it does require using different parts of the brain and I am very aware of that, that they require two very different applications. However perhaps my writing is able to express more about the environmental aspect. And my truffles are created with organic ingredients. 

Where can we find out more about your books - and the chocolate of course!

More information can be found on www.sparklepuss.co.uk.

My books are available from The Edge Of The World Book Shop, Penzance.

And available to order from all good book shops, and from Amazon:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sparkle-Puss-Cornish-Chocolate-Apothecary/dp/0956440207

Mondays with Monika - 2

If you're new to these Monday posts, pull up a pew. I'm chatting with Monika Spykerman, about the things that matter to her as a writer, mum (or mom, if you prefer), wife and writer. Here, Monika talks candidly about her own blog  and about the ways in which she uses her writing.

Previous posts will be located here: Part 1 Monday 22nd Oct.

So your writing is a way of making better sense of your internal world and what is going on around you. Are you conscious on thinking about the reader when you put the posts together - does it make you feel vulnerable in any way? Also, is there conscious choice about what you express and where you draw the line because you know that someone will probably be reading your words?

Are you therefore writing for yourself or do you want the reader to understand, to feel and to engage with you? 

Yes, I suppose I am thinking about the Phantom Reader. Most of the time I imagine my best friend, Michele, reading my entries, mostly because she's one of about three people who do. Sometimes I imagine a complete stranger, someone I don't know at all, and the point of my writing is that I'm trying to persuade him or her that I'm not a completely shitty person. Or at least, if I behave in shitty ways sometimes, I HAVE MY REASONS. AND HERE ARE ALL 512 OF THEM.

I don't feel even slightly vulnerable. I feel . . . powerful. I feel like I don't have to be trapped inside my own head. I'm not a prisoner in the dungeon of my thoughts. I'm not alone. All I have to do is throw the words out there, and make a connection. 

The only, only person that (whom? who?) I ever worried about reading my blog entries was my mother, and now she's dead, so that's convenient. I was always going to tell her about my blog - I really, really was - but I kept thinking that I might tell her sort of closer to the end, when I was sure she was going to die. That way, if she read something that upset her, she'd have the prospect of her impending mortality as the impetus to forgive me. (Ha! I've never even confessed that to myself!)

But I never did tell her, for a couple of reasons. First, we didn't know she was for sure going to die until a few days before she DID die, and by that time she was pretty much out of the whole "conscious interaction" thing. (I know, I know - she had terminal cancer, but no one ever used the word "terminal," and even after it was clear to every nurse in the hospital that Mom was on the way out, her doctor and oncologist were still saying stuff like, "Well, you never know . . . ") 

Second, actually telling her proved to be so much more difficult than I ever imagined. There were times in my blog where I was not very flattering to her, because I wanted to represent what our relationship was ACTUALLY like, and ACTUALLY it was, for most of my life, hard and painful. And for Mom to be hurt by words that I had written . . . I just couldn't bear it. Even if the words were true from my perspective. (See? Even now, I can't just say "true" - I have to add "from my perspective." In case Mom is listening.)

Sometimes I regret not telling her, because maybe Mom never really did know the genuine ME that lives in my blog. And maybe that goes against my vow, made to myself and to her after she was diagnosed with cancer, not to hide myself from her anymore, not to edit myself around her. Maybe I chickened out from 100%, full-on honesty.

And sometimes I'm glad I never told her. Because who wants to read that her double chin is like "a spring peeper in full croak"?*

So basically Mom was the entire reason that I wrote using made-up names for a couple years. And now, honestly, I sometimes still worry that Dad might read my stuff, and be hurt by the things I say about Mom. Or his farting dogs. But no, he thinks that dog farts are funny. And I think that even if Dad read something that bothered him, he'd understand that an artist has to be faithful to his or her vision of the world. For example, Monet - sorry to choose such an overrepresented artist here - painted things AS HE SAW THEM - all blurry and in pastels - not, HERE IS A TREE. SO IT MUST BE GREEN. If it looked purple to him, he painted it purple.

So, okay, I guess truth is subjective. And also objective at the same time. ("Deep stuff, man," as one of my college friends used to say.)

But the whole point of the blog is to show, as faithfully as possible, what goes on inside my head. If I say "Fuck!" inside my head, I try to be brave and put "Fuck!" on the page. If I have selfish motives for doing or not doing something, I try to just say so. Although, frankly, it's less scary to show myself being selfish or stupid than to write "Fuck!" So sometimes I wimp out and write "Fluck!" BUT YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT I AM THINKING ABOUT FUCKING.

Wait, that came out wrong.

But at least you understand why.



* I'll ask her to translate.

Mondays with Monika - 1

As you may recall, a trainee clinical psychologist, exploring the therapeutic benefits of creative writing, interviewed me. The experience got me thinking about some themes I return to in my fiction, such as loss, separation and change, and the ways in which fiction comes to be as authentic as non-fiction.

But what about non-fiction that tells the truth - warts and all? How far can or ought we go in our quest to connect with the reader?

I'd like to introduce my friend, Monika. We 'met' at San Diego based A Word with You Press, although I'm at least 50% certain that neither of us has visited the HQ.

What makes Monika's blog special is its combination of honesty, engaging writing and ability to connect with you emotionally.

It's my great pleasure to bring Monika into the limelight.

Let's start with what might seem a steep dropping off point. 

Your mother died recently and you chose to write about it in detail - not just how you were feeling, but also what was going on around you. Was it a conscious decision to commit it to the page and has that helped you in the grieving process? 

Regarding writing about my mother's death: it was both a conscious decision and a reflexive action. Writing a blog is like having a conversation with yourself that you allow other people to overhear. I have occasionally kept a journal, but I just couldn't get motivated to write anything that no one else was going to read. But I really enjoy talking to myself, and I find that I can be a very clever self-conversationalist if I think that someone else might be listening. And that's the whole value of therapy right there--just knowing, or at least hoping, that someone is listening. I mean, besides myself. (Maybe blogging could be called "tautological therapy" - a self-referencing and self-reinforcing loop with restorative powers.)

Writing is also a good way to separate the strands of thought that get so tangled inside my head. My head is like a big knitting basket, with a bunch of crazy-knotted balls of yarn inside. Writing allows me to take out one ball of yarn at a time, examine it, and untangle it. And the delightful part about writing is that, as you're untangling your yarn-thoughts, you find strings that connect to other balls of yarn in unexpected ways. Although sometimes that's exhausting, because you're like, "Damn! I thought I was DONE untangling this ball of yarn!"

And then writing is also a way of recording what's happening to me, so that I can remember it more clearly. I don't mean that I go back and read my blog entries from two years ago, because I generally don't. I mean that the act of writing helps to cement an event in my mind more clearly. It's like this: I write down a shopping list, go to the store, and realize I've left my list in the car. But I still get everything I came for because the act of writing things down has made me remember them. It's the way my mind works--some people have to hear things spoken to remember them, and some people have to write things to remember them. Some people think in images, some people think in words. My thoughts are almost completely in words; my inner images and feelings are always accompanied by descriptive language.

Another benefit of writing-as-therapy--a therapeutic aspect that many people overlook--is the act of producing something, and the corresponding feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction when you are done. You made art! You told a story! You didn't just sit around and stew about what's bothering you; you put a bunch of words together and you made something beautiful, something real, something that exists OUTSIDE of your head, something independent and separate from you. It's part of you, and it came from you, but it's also not-you. It now also belongs to whoever reads it, and it takes on a life of its own that you have little or no control over. You made a baby. And the best thing about this baby is that you don't have to change its poopy diapers or pay to send it to college.

More from Monika next Monday - if you've enjoyed what you read here, you won't be disappointed.

Guest spot - The Chapel in the Woods

Once upon a time, not so long ago - all right then, it was only back in August, Susan Louineau sat in the virtual chair and told me about her ebook, The Chapel in the Woods, which she self-published this year.

Unlike me, Susan has a track record in marketing and put all that knowledge and experience to good use by creating a buzz for her book

I caught up with her recently, in a cafe overlooking a windswept harbour, where she attempted to enlighten me about the joys of being a successful self-published author. 

I had my peppermint tea in one hand, a forkful of chocolate brownie in the other, my notepad on the table and ears pricked up. Who says men can't multi-task?!

What made you choose to go with Kindle from the beginning? 

To be truthful at the time I didn’t realise there were so many platforms for epublishing but I think I chose the right one as I’m not sure there are many souls in this world who haven’t bought something from Amazon at some time or another.

Which has been the best social media tool for you? 

Twitter wins it hands down on this one.  When I first published The Chapel in the Woods I told all my friends on Facebook who were extremely loyal and downloaded it and some even read it and reviewed it favourably.  I quickly realised that once my personal connections had been exhausted I wasn’t going to sell very many.  If no one knows about your product they can’t buy it! I was no social media fanatic and had seen no use for Twitter previously but as soon as I started gaining new followers and following  the example of other authors the books began to sell and the reviews came rolling in. 

At what stage did you put your marketing plan into action, and would you change it for future books?  

I put it in action really rather late.  Next time I will start creating a buzz about the new one as soon as I have completed the first draft.  Now that I have established a worldwide readership I have a significant number of customers who are eager to read the next one and provide reviews early on.

Can you explain the logic of the Kindle giveaways? Call me stupid, but I don't see how giving away books can encourage people to then buy them.

When you self-publish with Kindle you are initially an unknown entity.  Your book appears on the Amazon rankings to begin with quite high up, CITW came in at 4,000 in Fiction; which may seem terribly low but out of half a million novels that’s actually not bad*.  If you don’t sell many your ranking quickly slips.  Let’s face it we’re all a bit lazy and when we open our Kindles/e-readers to browse for something to read we will look at the top 20 or 40 most of the time but often won’t go any further.  

Kindle has both a free chart and a paid chart which appear side by side when you open your device or view on the website.  If your novel is languishing at the bottom no one will know it’s there.  We all like a freebie and giving it away for a set time period, two days in my case, will send it up the free chart and hopefully to the first page for the world to see. 

What's your progress with your current work-in-progress, The Weather Gods?

I am still in the research and plotting phase for The Weather Gods.  It is important for me to learn something new when I write a novel.  CITW taught me about life in the Dark Ages in both England and the feudal Loire Valley and the struggles of the resistance and SOE Agents in the 2^nd World War.

The Weather Gods is opening up a whole new raft of knowledge for me; from meteorology to celtic mythology. Writing has given me the opportunity to be an eternal student, for which I feel blessed.

I mentioned that your marketing approach has really worked for you so, without giving away all your secrets, what were some of your goals and the results?

I heard that the average sales for a first novel are around 300 – 500 in a 12 month period; I decided to set my target at the top end.  CITW smashed this target in just 2 days after the free promotion ended.  Having reached #3 in the Free Fiction chart within 40 hours, it hit #2 in Amazon’s paid UK Spy Stories category by the fourth paid day. 

In your opinion - and this is a biggie - is it possible for a part-time cynic with maybe half an hour a day to make a difference to the success of a new ebook? I ask because my own self-pubbed fantasy, Covenant, should be out soon. All tips gratefully received!

Absolutely!  The best advice I can give is to start networking on Twitter and find the people who will be delighted to read your book, review it and tell their friends.  There is a very supportive network of self-published authors on Twitter who are more than happy to read and spread the word about your work.

One of the biggest pleasures I have discovered is reading other indie authors’ work in all kinds of genres that I would almost certainly never have picked up off a bookshop shelf.  I have discovered a plethora of talented writers that have unexpectedly extended my range of personal taste in fiction. 

Now that The Chapel in the Woods has begun to make a name for itself as an ebook, have you considered making the move to paperback as well?

Yes, I have begun the formatting process for a paperback edition for all those who are reluctant to indulge in the current e-reader frenzy and I hope to release it in time for Christmas.

Links please!

My Twitter handle is: @susanlouineau and you can find me here - https://twitter.com/susanlouineau

Chapel in the Woods can be purchased here: 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Chapel-Woods-ebook/dp/B007JBG9HG

http://www.amazon.com/The-Chapel-Woods-ebook/dp/B007JBG9HG

So what is your experience of self-publishing ebooks? 

Have you formed the same conclusions as Susan, or did you take a different path?

* Blimey!

What goes around

Not the prettiest image, unless you're a jobbing writer.

I've said in the past that I'm a big fan of short story competitions. You are usually presented with a theme, a word count and a deadline - and all for no more than a nominal entry fee (we can have that debate some other time).

Even if you don't win a prize, you've still come out on top because, if you've written something new, you'll have an original piece of work inspired by the comp requirements. Which means you have something else to add to your portfolio, sell on, use in a blog post, or rework into something different.

But, let's face facts for a moment, the big happy ending is becoming a prize winner. So allow me to share my joy at getting a 'olympic silver' in the Arc / Tomorrow Project fiction competition, for Perfect Circle.

My thanks to Intel, New Scientist. Reed Business Information and Simon Ings.

But mostly, my thanks to Write This Moment for bringing the competition to my attention. Another year's subscription that was money well spent! 

Perfect Circle tells the tale of Billy Cloudsbury, who finds out he has a deceptively simple - and rare - talent. You can read the story here.

Now, some of you out there have been asking about my fantasy, Covenant, which is due for self-publication this month. It's still on the way in paperback and I'm also playing around with ebook formats. Expect an announcement in the next two or three weeks.

And then there's the tale of a hellish takeover, but that's another story altogether!

Ways in which...

Photo by kind permission of V Sunkmanitu (see link below)

Ways in which I've made a tit* out of myself as a writer (in no particular order).

1. Waiting one year, three months and 16 days to get a reply from a publisher. Mercifully, not an exclusive submission, but why, why, why did I bother?

2. Using the phrase, 'Yours ethically,' to a client (who freaked a little and went elsewhere).

3. Making a flippant comment to an agent after waiting an extra week to hear about a writing competition, only to hear that the reason my email had been delayed was that I'd been shortlisted. I didn't win, which arguably is karma.

4. Not asking, up front, what the rate was per word, and then having to listen to a load of pony about what a great opportunity it will be for me in the long-term. That is, once I'd learned to go without food.

5. Writing at a rate per word where, ordinarily, outside the writing world, you'd be searching the job ads during your teabreak.

6. Taking FOREVER to take the plunge and self-publish my own novel. I mean, seriously, what IS the worst that could happen? Nobody buys and reads it? Shit, that's the situation if it isn't published. I lose a little money on it? Big deal - as long as I learn something. To be filed under 'don't be a wuss'. 

7. Letting two payment deadlines go by before issuing a client with a take down notice. (If I just love them even more, maybe they'll change...).

8. Agreeing to exclusive electronic rights for two years, which is the approximate lifepsan of a mosquito fish. Just in case you were wondering.

9. While attending a writing course in London, after work, the tutor snootily asked me to define my work for the benefit of him and the class. I explained that the essence of the novel (see, I can do snooty, too) was that the plot mattered more than the individual characters. 

"Ah, he nodded sagely, you've obviously read a great deal of Chekhov." 

"No," I replied, "but I've watched all his appearances in Star Trek." Phasers on pun.

10. Admitting all the above in a blog post.

* Photograph provided by Wolf Photography and Villayat Sunkmanitu.

Don't be shy - share your creative confessions in the comments box.

Comfort reading

Ask any fervent reader and they'll tell you that they have a treasured few books they read over and over again. Know you're going to be stuck on a train or a coach? Want to fill a few minutes with the familiar delights of a well-loved tale? Or maybe you like to check in with a long-standing paper friend, just to see if you're still as close as you remember?

Books - like music, scents and photographs - have the power to magically reconnect us with the past. When you choose your reading matter with discernment, every book you read seeps into your DNA. Sometimes it's an author's entire works, rather than a single book, but the same principle applies.

Richard Bach's The Gift of Wings is one such book for me. Just holding the battered cover transports me 25+ years through time. I'm on the Staten Island ferry, heading for Manhattan, and wondering how to spin my disaster of an American Dream into a more positive adventure.

I can see my 1986 self now, a bagel in one hand and Gift of Wings in the other, breathing in the salt-sea air as I devour R Bach's collection of old articles, especially the ones that speak of limitless possibility and the freedom to shape my own destiny. I glance up, periodically, watching as Manhattan looms ever larger, and the water glistens like a molten, silvery sheet. And I whisper to the stern sky, "This is the moment I have chosen." Ah, bless.

I rarely read the pieces in order - I have my favourites there too. Over the years, those preferences change, and sometimes so does my attitude towards the book's contents. I guard against the internal 'tsk-tsk', where the jaded, cynical side of my nature swamps the bright-eyed optimist to mutter despondently, 'Yes, well, it's fine for you to think like that, but look at the life you've been able to lead.'

I know differently, of course. I only have to look at my own, meandering path to recognise that choices are made every day and consequences pop up around us like daisies. I started reading Richard Bach's books in 1983, long before Gift of Wings joined my travelling bag for $3.95 from some un-named bookstore (but probably Weiser's).

I know too that all writers write a version of themselves - a 'who I wish to be and be seen as'. But then, don't we all?

My comfort reading also includes:

Illusions - Richard Bach

Jonathan Livingston Seagull - Richard Bach

Wuthering Heights - Charlotte Bronte

Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy

Secrets of Dr Taverner - Dion Fortune.

So what's on your list?