Cheat?

Recently, the writer Freya Morris asked the question: is traditional publication a vanity project? Which led me, via an innovative mental process, to interpret the question as: is it, in fact, cheating?

That's given me good for thought. It seems to me that, in order to cheat, by definition there has to be a set of rules.

When I first started out writing fiction, I used to think - in some hazy, undefined way - that the world of authors and publishing was some kind of meritocracy. Or perhaps it operated on some kind of conveyor belt principle. Essentially, you queued up, collecting ideas along the way. Then you wrote your book and submitted it to a 'few' agents. In the fullness of time - and   it seemed to me that three to six months was a fair and equitable arrangement - one of the agents took you on and they subsequently (three to six months again) found you a publisher. And hey presto, in due course (or, as I like to think of it, three to six months' time), your book hit the shelves.

QED, you might say, if that particular plan had worked for you. You might, but I didn't.

Ask any writer, though, and they'll give you a plethora of stories to demonstrate the unreliability of rules. Even at the writing stage, new plots emerge, characters dwindle and genres metamorphose (for example, my thriller, Standpoint, was originally intended to be a crime drama, until the characters thought better).

Once the book is written, plans can fall through. That agent who didn’t reject you initially and asked to see the whole manuscript (be still my heart) eventually turned you down because he didn’t feel he could make the connections to get you the breakthrough and development your book deserves, in an already crowded market.*

Or you wrote a book that suited a genre perfectly. But what scuppered you wasn't necessarily the quality of your work; it was the relatively superior quality of other people's work at the same time.

Or the publisher who signed you up already has a full schedule for the next 18 months, or can only offer a small print run for newbie authors, or tells you at the contract stage that they will require an author's contribution of a large bag of cash.**

Then again, the book might get out there to critical acclaim, but few sales; the two forms of success not being interdependent.

There is another, unwritten rule (forgive the irony). And that is that every successful author ought to have worked hard for it (suffering a little, perhaps, on behalf of all the writers who won't make it that far), and thoroughly deserve it.

Here, I feel, we all cheat in one way or another. Maybe the writing comes easily to us, or luck plays an important part in the process. We know someone who knows someone. Maybe a suggestion comes, unbidden, to try door 58. A chance remark at a dinner party leads to an 'in'. (I've heard this is the number one reason that writers attend dinner parties, followed by the chance of free food. Personally, I've always considered my lack of dinner party invites to be a major flaw in my campaign for publication.)

All of the above only seems like cheating, to others, if what has worked for one person cannot be formulated and replicated by everyone. Which is a lot like the rest of life really.

Plumbers (I know, plumbers and writers...) often get jobs on the basis of personal recommendation, which can be hard lines for a new plumber with no track record or connections. It isn't fair; no, it's competition.

So my message to you, dear fellow writers, is this: lose your sense of entitlement. It's a myth and an unnecessary burden, implying, as it does that your turn will inevitably come. And cast aside any notion of there being a meritocracy. When it comes to getting your work into print, or online, you use whatever connections and resources are available to you. There are no rules. Maybe that's why it's called fiction.

Write well, edit well, submit well, self-publish well and promote well. That's all you can rely on, and even then the outcome isn’t guaranteed. Expect anything else and, frankly, you're only cheating yourselves.

* Actually said to me, once. If it's flannel, it's impressive flannel.

** They wanted over £5000. See elsewhere on the blog for the tragic details!

Once upon a tome...

Hang out the flags, I've got an idea for a story.

We tend to see events and perspectives from the beginning of things, without always appreciating the beginning (or the ending) before the beginning.

Sometimes, it's the 'why'.

Why was the 'wicked fairy' in Sleeping Beauty wicked?

What drove Laurie Lee to start his journey in As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning?

What made Craig Campbell choose his way of life in Sinclair Macleod's The Reluctant Detective series?

When it comes to novels, I think that authors juggle three distinct needs.

What does the reader actually need to know, what does you need them to know, and (still with me?) what do you need to know purely for yourself?

Initially, in my Brit thriller, Standpoint, I alluded to main character Thomas Bladen's difficult childhood. But the more I wrote, the more I wanted to know what actually went on. So I explored that and some of those formative events filtered through to the manuscript. That way the reader can trace a thread all the way from who my protagonist is all the way back to some of the experiences that moulded his behaviour.

Even if you're writing about a baby, its home environment and the attitude of its parents (which will contribute to its conditioning and the life awaiting it) owe a debt to the past.

I'm in the process of submitting two novels to agents / publishers (at time of writing, I haven't decided which road to take). To complicate things further, each book is a different genre. Standpoint is a thriller about a civilian who joins the UK's Surveillance Support Unit, while Scars and Stripes is a transatlantic comedy drama set in the 1980s. 

Being back on the submissions trail, it's easy to buy into the notion that I'm there at the beginning. Except that I'm not. My trusty spreadsheet reminds me that I've been contracted four times for other books, and offered a further three contracts (at different times) for a fantasy novel, Covenant, that I eventually chose to self-publish.

As writers we tend to see ourselves at the start of something, which can be energising or daunting depending on how you feel about that all-important next stage. But it's important to recognise the steps and individuals (seen and unseen) that brought us to this point. 

The journey of a thousand miles may well begin with the first step, but let's not forget all the other journeys that put us there, willing and able.

Special K

"I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all." Ecclesiastes 9-11 

So there I was, over at the Strictly Writing blog, inspired to pen something after a brace of rejections. And yes, I went through the familiar cycle of scratching my head, reviewing my submissions and tearing out my hair (and believe me, given what little there is to start with, that's definitely a counter-intuitive move) while wondering what else I can do to get an agent.

And then I swapped some emails with Chloe Banks, who reminded me of the other side to writing. Yes, it's a way of life to those who either write professionally, or aspire to. And yes it's a way of organising and unjumbling the wheelbarrow of ideas we carry around with us. But...it's a choice we make. Hard as it is to admit, no one forces us to write. Indeed, I know of one or two very talented writers who expend a great deal of energy in order not to write.

I can remember the rush of exhilaration when I first completed written version of Covenant (then called The promise of a Rainbow). There was no rush to find an agent or a publisher back then (which, for a first written draft, was frankly a good thing). No, I was thrilled to have a completed story - because that was how I thought of it - in my hands. Something a friend or other interested party could read. Sometimes it's good to recapture that inner goal.

However, I digress. What Chloe and I actually talked about, in part, was the importance of kindness. It's a word that fell out of fashion and is now making a comeback. You see, as a writer, I know what other writers go through, at whatever stage of the process they're at. The highs, lows and bewilderments don't end just because we have a contract in our hands or when we see something of ours in print. Arguably, once you've hit pay-dirt once it all cranks up a notch for the next cycle. Can you do it again? Will people like it as much? Will someone now step in and say, "It's all a fraud and they can't really write!"? (Or, as most people know it these days, Amazon reviews...)

So what does kindness have to do with being a writer? A great deal, I think. Because kindness is about consideration to others, and not just on the printed page. 

Here are some of the ways we can show kindness to writers and readers:


- If you have the time and space, offer your fellow writers honest and constructive feedback. As much as writers might want to hear 'good things' about their work, anyone who plans on developing as a writer benefits hugely from the truth and some signposts.

- Consider retweeting other writers trying to promote their work. I sometimes select people at random, as well as those I interact with regularly. A little goes a long way.

- How about posting a link to someone's blog on your Facebook page? Fifteen seconds of your time might get a writer a new follower and maybe lead the follower into reading from a completely different genre.

- If you have bought a person's work, leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads. If you want to be really kind, contact the author first so they know that something's coming.

- Support local bookshops where and when you can. Everyone's circumstances are different, but remember that a local bookshop might be in a better position to support and promote local authors. And every writer is local to somewhere.

- Attend readings when you can. Booksignings too. I remember co-signing books when we had four people in as many hours. And one of those people picked up The Little Book of Cynics (hey, it's out of print so it's not like I'm plugging it for personal gain), sniffed derisively, and said, "I could probably put something together like this myself." And then walked out empty handed. Nice.

- As a writer, only deliver your best work. And, when you add links, consider adding links to any writing that's available for free. Don't just go for the hard sell. (See Me for Free, coming soon at this blog!

- Consider helping other writers with advice, reference material or agents / publishers that they might want to consider submitting material to. Yes, the writing world can be competitive, but one person's success doesn't necessarily mean another person's failure. Strive to be bigger than that limited world view.

And finally: Let your writing and your reading be an extension of your highest values. There's a lot of mealiness out there with regards to books. Lots of people are quick to condemn bestsellers as sell-outs, and derive more pleasure from picking holes in other people's work than in producing their own.

Kindness doesn't guarantee anything. But you may just make a positive difference to someone else's day, or perhaps just boost their confidence a little. And, when you think about it, that's a pretty amazing thing.

My thanks to Chloe for the initial prompt.

Guest spot - Deborah Durbin - So You Want to be a Freelance Writer?

Whilst it's undoubtedly true that the world of writing is a competitive one, it can also be a cooperative environment as well. And, while we often play the numbers game and look for a niche to nip into with the fervour of a Saturday shopper in a car park, writers are a community.

I recently heard on the grapevine that Deborah Durbin, a fellow scribe and freelancer, had written a book for those writers looking to plough an independent furrow. She has previously been very generous with her views on the freelancing scene and suggested some doors worth knocking on. It seemed only fair to put her in the hot seat again, to find out more about her latest project and to pick her brains until she yells, "Feinites!"

So, Deborah, you've been a freelance writer for a number of years. What changes in the industry have you noticed since you began, and how have you adapted your approach?   

The most notable change I have seen since first becoming a freelance writer is the advantage of technology. When I first started I would have to research an article in the library, type it up on my electric typewriter (making two copies), send it off to an editor in the hope that they will like it then wait weeks for a reply. These days I can email an idea to a commissioning editor and get a reply within minutes. All my book contracts have been commissioned this way too.

In your new book, So You Want To Be A Freelance Writer, you draw upon your own experience. Which piece of advice or guidance do you wish someone had shared with you at the very beginning of your career?

To keep on trying. Once you’ve studied your market, learned how to present your manuscript and how to approach a commissioning editor, a lot depends on luck. There are many reasons why an editor might not be able to take on your work and it’s really nothing personal.

Does being a successful portfolio writer (non-fiction and fiction) create its own challenges - how do you prioritise your various writing projects?

I love the varied life of being a portfolio writer. My ‘day job’ is as a journalist and I never harboured dreams of being a fiction writer; that just sort of happened. My journalism writing comes first because if an editor is kind enough to commission you for a job, you need to deliver if you want to get more work from them. My novels tend to get written during the school holidays when my daughters are home from school and college and I write them by hand, whilst watching the telly or sunbathing in the garden.

Has the world of writing changed for women, in your opinion, and in which ways?

I personally think that readers don’t care a jot whether a book is written by a man or a woman. It’s the publishers that are the picky ones! Possibly 50 Shades of Grey would not have been such a success if it had been written by a man. The USP for the publishers was that it was written by a woman and a mother. However, when E L James first published her book, readers didn’t know whether it was written by a man or a woman. The same applies to J K Rowling. Possibly if she had written it as Joanne Rowling it wouldn’t have been so successful, but I doubt it. I do think women feel more able to write in different genres nowadays and not be limited to the Mills and Boon style of romance writing. Many women write about crime, horror and sex as well as their male counterparts now and I think this is thanks to publishers accepting that good writing is good writing, regardless of sex, age or race.

Describe a typical writing day.

No two days are the same for me, so a typical day isn’t really typical for me. Once I have done the school run and sent my other two daughters off to college, I always check my emails, Facebook, website and blog and then start work on whatever I’ve been working on the day before. Most mornings I will pitch several ideas to magazine/newspaper editors and carry on working until an email pings back with a yes please or a no thanks. If it’s a yes please, I will pencil it in my diary, along with the deadline, research notes I need to do etc. I occasionally write real life stories, so if I have heard of someone with a good story to tell, I will contact them and an editor to see if I can sort out a deal for them. If I have no journalism deadlines to work on I will work on my novel, but this is usually done away from my desk, in the conservatory or sitting on the sofa watching This Morning. I always go out for lunch because I love people watching and find listening in on other people’s conversations gives me lots of ideas. After lunch I check emails again and work for another hour on whatever I’ve been working on in the morning then I pick my daughter up from school and stay away from my desk until we’ve all had dinner. If I’m working to a tight deadline I will work during the evening, but I always have to have the TV or radio on in my office. I can’t work in silence, it disturbs me.

Are you working on a new book at the moment? Care to give us a hint!

I’m currently working on the third of my Now I Can Hear Dead People series. I hadn’t planned to write a third book in the series, but many readers have emailed me asking when the next book is going to be out. Being a trained journalist I find it much more of a challenge to write fiction, but I do enjoy it and find it’s a bit of escapism, so between deadlines I will be spending much of this year sitting in the conservatory writing that.

What's the strangest thing you've ever written about?

I was once asked to write a feature about cellular memory and interviewed a woman who’d had a heart transplant and was convinced that she had adopted the personality of the man whose heart she had received. It was a fascinating piece to research and really opened my eyes to the possibility of cellular memory.

Where can we find out about your book/s?

All my books are available on Amazon or ordered through books stores such as Waterstones. You can find out more about me at www.deborahdurbin.com or go to my freelance writing blog at http://soyouwanttobeafreelancewriter.blogspot.co.uk/

Deborah Durbin is a journalist, columnist and author. She is also a Member of the Society of Authors and Women in Journalism

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.