It's not all about you....is it?

There was a 'lively discussion' thread on WriteWords the other day about bloggers who, from the anonymity of their personal computers, dump every last detail of their personal lives out there, into the blogosphere. I'm not keen to re-hash the arguments but I feel that like any other kind of writing, the audience for the 'this is how I wash my dirty linen' type blog is as credible as the 'thesis into the origin and manufacture of linen' type blog. And if the writing is good enough, both blogs could share the same audience.

This got me thinking about writing in general. Like most writers, I have a small number (three) of people who are allowed to see a work in progress. One is a brilliant editor, the other two are avid readers. My non professional readers always tend to ask, did that really happen to you or who is that character really? Sometimes I feel like shouting, how many times do I have to tell you, it's all MADE UP? But maybe I am protesting too loudly.

Zadie Smith once said that writing is the ultimate art form because (and I am paraphrasing here), not only does the writer create a new world and characters that live and breath on their own, but also within that world, is the writer herself (or himself). Right there behind every word, phrase and nuance is a reflection of that writer's psyche, hidden in the redeeming gestures of the cold blooded murderer who weeps over a maimed animal, or laid bare in the eyes of the star-crossed lover who will never find her soul mate.

Fine artists could make the same claim except that their creations are rather static; okay someone will kill me for saying that, but they would have to fight me first, and anyway I'm sticking to the point. Bigger brains than mine can go on for days about how, well-drawn characters from classical fiction can still show us, teach us something today. Emma Bovary (for one) encapsulates the essence of many a modern disillusioned house wife.....So I think I'm with ZS on this one.

And the next time someone asks I'll say, yes of course, it's all about me!

Obsessive, compulsive, neurotic

Yup that's me.

Time was, writers were expected to be tortured, mysterious souls. But those days are over it seems. The only people who get away with obsessive, compulsive, neurotic behaviour are celebs, including published and highly successful writers. You've got no chance if you are just another sad scribbler hacking away at your lap top.

Shame though. I would have loved to write an agent pitch letter that said,
'...and one last thing, apart from my brilliant, visual, viceral prose, you should also sign me up because I am tortured like you wouldn't believe and my little store room frequently doubles up as a garret.' Bet that Snark bird would love it.

'...we all have one foot in a fairy tale and the other in the abyss...'

Life sucks sometimes. I think the quote above (from the first line in Paulo Coelho's Eleven Minutes) sums up why that happens. We want the fairy tale but end up (too often) in the abyss. This bank holiday weekend I am thinking that the fairy tale is all that keeps me going. And to everyone else who is holding on to that fairy tale, I say hang in there. It's coming...

e go be

I've rediscovered my love for African pigeon English. I love the way the language (which has its own grammatical rules) breaks down to give an immediate and urgent message. It feels really cool to break rules and drop definite articles and still make sense.
Loosely translated, the phrase above means it will be . This sentiment and the recurring notion that letting go of the outcome of one's dreams is the key to achieving them has been playing on my mind over the past few weeks. Maybe it's because I have just finished re-reading Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist , maybe it's because I'm a control freak who cannot, will not do 'letting go'. Maybe it's because I find myself in a position where I can do nothing but let things go. Either way, I have become convinced that the key to achieving writing success (publication), and commercial and critical acclaim (what's wrong with dreaming big?) involves believing that e go be .
This belief starts with the kernel of the idea; to place an ordinary character in extraodinary circumstances, create a new world with its own rules and regulations, or even provide a window on a time and place that has so far been inaccessible to the rest of world. Whatever the story, writers must sustain their belief in character, plot etc, through drafting, editing, re-writing... over many months or even years. Sounds tough but during this blindly believing period something magical happens: the writing gets better over time; plots offer gifts and clever coincidences that you didn't plan or see; fully grown characters get their feet wet and start to strutt their stuff. This has nothing to do with technical ability. If we just believe that e go be then just like in The Alchemist, the universe will conspire to help us get there.

It's a bit of a namby-pamby, airy-fairy notion but as I package up my first novel to offer up to the world and begin to research and draft my second one , those three words are going to keep me going. That, or I'm gonna go a li'l bit crazy.

The cost of crime

Call me draconian but I just want to try something here.
I am so fed up of reading about youth murders, rape, child and elderly abuse that I think there should be a public campaign to change the way these crimes are regarded by society and the law.
To my mind the thing that needs to change in society is not just the custodial sentences but rather a purer more quantifiable appreciation of what has been mercilessly taken away from these victims. So in addition to the charge of murder, rape, paedophilia, whatever, we add another charge based on a calculation of the loss of opportunity that the crime has brought about to the victim. The calculation would not necessarily be an addition to the number of years spent in jail but, say for instance in the case of the young footballer who was recently shot, this new policy would make sure that the perpetrator, as part of his rehabilitation, works to facilitate the career (either by driving him around, cleaning his shoes, whatever...) of another up and coming footballer so that he truly understands what he has taken away. That would be the first part.
Second, we as a society, should be less fascinated by the crimes themselves and more horrified by the loss of opportunity they bring about.

Red River by Lalita Tademy

If you scroll down far enough on this blog you will see my post on Lalita Tademy's first book, Cane River which spent 12 weeks on the US best seller list and more importantly, was picked out by Oprah Winfrey.

Red River is her second family/memoir/faction novel charting the shameful events of the 1873 Easter Sunday massacre in Colfax. I grabbed this book thinking that the story would be as fascinating as her first novel. I was wrong. It is much more important because of its historical significance and affirmation of the strength of the human spirit.

Red River took me away from my own writing, it made me angry and it made me cry. And when I finished, I wanted to punch the air and shout out: Tademy! (You'll understand when you read the book).

If you look around the world in despair of the inequalities that still exist then, this book will give you hope. Through the extradordinary lives of her family members, Lalita Tademy has shown that change is possible even if only small disenfranchised group of people decide to make it so.