I spent a large part of July worrying about having a job in September - budget cuts and so on - and part of that worrying pushed me to write lots of poetry and send out everything I have to magazines and journals. On one hand this is a Good Thing as it gave me something to focus upon and it's what I should be doing anyway. On the other hand the downside is that I've received three rejections so far and heard nothing from the others.
There are two voices in my head holding a conversation about this state of affairs; one is the sensible calm voice who knows that rejections are a necessary part of writing, that more poetry is written than read today, that maybe some of the poems were not really ready, that they didn't fit what the editor is currently looking for and that I haven't had them all rejected yet. The other voice is... well, more of a shout, a tantrum with a stamped foot if you like.
Writing is a solitary pursuit; we write firstly for ourselves, to ourselves in order to understand the world, to make sense of our feelings. For some people their writing ends there - they write diaries which explore their inner world but never see the light of the outer world. The rest of us write because we want to share something with all of you out there we want to connect, 'only connect' as E.M.Forster said. So we spend our days watching, listening and collecting bits of life which we then transcribe and transform onto the page, making sense of it, giving it a new life, making it fresh. The transcribing and transforming is the alchemy - the bit we do almost in secret, tucked away literally for some in their writing sheds, offices, attics and garrets and metaphorically for others writing in cafes and libraries who hide in plain sight. When we finally return our work to the world we, I am often so blinkered that it is like my first born child - perfect in every way.
This is getting terribly poetic here - I'll just take a moment out to translate...
I love my writing therefore I expect everyone else to do so too. I'm shocked and hurt (with dramatic flounces) when others do not feel the same way.
So that's where all the foot stamping came from and it should last approximately 12 hours if you're lucky but don't allow yourself to continue the tantrum for over 24 hours if at all possible. Why? The short answer is (and this hurts) no one cares. The long answer is what the sensible voice in my head has been saying throughout all of this.....
Rejections are a necessary part of writing -
Your writing may simply not be good enough just yet and even with rejections there is a hierarchy (at least in my head...) - no reply whatsoever means the poem either got lost or really stank, a standard form rejection means it was poor but the editor is polite, a note asking you to submit again in the future means it was still poor but you show some promise, a note explaining why they didn't accept your poem means that you're close and the poem isn't bad.
All writers even the megastars like Stephen King have been rejected - I regularly recommend his book 'On Writing' to new writers. If you didn't ever receive rejections you (I) would begin to doubt the worth of doing this...to me if something is worth doing not only should it be done well but also it shouldn't be easy. Rejections are good for the soul and good for building humility - a very necessary trait in writing so you can continue to learn and develop.
More poetry is written than read today -
Sad but true. If each of us who claims to love poetry actually bought collections from new poets or subscribed to the very same magazines we wish to be published by then there would be a bigger market for poetry. It's the chicken and the egg all over again - the chicken is the reader that gives birth to the egg, the writer...or maybe the chicken is the writer....Either way, if you want to write poetry then read it. On that note I'll briefly get on my soapbox - make sure you're reading contemporary poetry as much or more than the classics. You live now, so find out what people are writing now. You need to know what has gone before but not to the exclusion of what is happening now. For example, rock stars, pop bands, musicians generally have an awareness of Elvis Presley, The Beatles, Blues, Jazz and so on, some even use pieces of classical music reworked...which reminds me - listen to Pachelbel's 'Canon' first, then listen to The Farm's 'All Together Now'.
Back to the poetry...
Maybe some of the poems were not really ready -
Did I actually put this poem away for a few weeks before I sent it out? Sometimes I can get so impressed with myself (I know I need to learn a little more humility but it's a fine balance between that and having self-confidence!) that I send out new work before it's ready. When the rejection arrives you need to look again at the poem - does it still work for you? Perhaps it needs some further revisions - now is the time to do it before you send it out again.
It didn't fit what the editor is currently looking for -
Poetry does go in trends and fashions and different journals and magazines look for different types of work. I know this is obvious but when you receive the rejection you need to remind yourself of this. Poetry tastes are different, it's all subjective and the editor you sent your precious piece to may simply not like poems about kittens (actually no one apart from small children likes poems about kittens - as much as we love the furry beasts we don't want to read soppy poems about them). Just like when you broke up with that guy who smelled odd - it's them, not you.
I haven't had them all rejected yet -
Yet.
So the short sensible answer to rejection is to 'man up' and revise, redraft and resubmit elsewhere. Keep reading, keep writing and hopefully keep improving.
I'm now going to take some of my own excellent advice and look at the latest batch of rejections.
Oh, and by the way, the job did re-materialise so I won't be entirely penniless by Christmas.
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Thursday, 20 August 2009
The Job of Writing Poetry
I'm mother to twin boys, I do a bit of teaching at a local university in the English department and this coming academic year the Art department too. I'm hoping to start studying for a PhD soon on the links between art and poetry. I also do a bit of freelance writing for magazines and I write poetry, some of which gets published.
In short, I'm a busy person, especially if you factor in my Twitter/Facebook/b3ta habit, reading approximately one novel a week, cooking and gardening too.
I find that I do most of my writing - the poetry and the occasional short story/half written novel - during the university vacations when I have no other demands upon my time except family ones. My children know that during the school holidays they can stay up a little later and they can laze around in bed until 10am if they fancy because I'll be writing until about lunchtime and then the afternoon and evenings are theirs.
So all of this means that writing poetry in particular tends to be done in these splurges and because of all the rest of the stuff I need to get done I have to be organised about redrafting and submitting work otherwise it would all simply sit in the virtual dusty drawer of my Documents folder on my laptop. How I organise this may be of some help to you...if you're not organised properly for writing you're not treating it like the job that it is!
Here's how I do it....
First Drafts and 'The Muse'
I don't believe in this notion of 'The Muse' and waiting for it to strike, some people (even some published writers) that I know do go along with the idea that they'll only write poetry when they get the feeling that it's about to strike. They're the lucky ones - that doesn't happen for me and if it did I have a feeling my Muse would strike at 3.00am and I hate having a broken night's sleep.
I try to write to a routine. I aim at sitting down every day Monday to Friday from about 9.00am until at least lunchtime and writing/editing/submitting - doing all the stuff that's involved in my job - the job of being a writer/academic/mother/dogsbody! Some days and some weeks I write every day, other times I might spend a week or two sorting out lecture plans, magazine submissions, job applications or even - and this is a guilty secret - watching YouTube and reading junk online - I feel bad about those days even though those are the times when my subconscious is probably working really hard at a new poem....okay, I don't really believe that either, but hey, I'm human.
I also go out and write because then I don't get distracted by the internet, newspapers, the internet, gardening, the internet, cats and the internet. Cafes work best for me because I can watch the world go by wrapped up in my cocoon of caffeine and there's something very special about writing longhand in a nice notebook.
So, what do I do once I've got all these First Drafts?
The Redrafting Filing System
Everything I write gets typed up either straight into Word, or more recently I've been using Evernote - it's free and you can save your work both on a laptop/pc and online and synchronise the two together to keep it all up to date. It also takes screen clippings from sites so you can keep all your research together too.
I then put this first draft into a folder marked redraft for two months time e.g. REDRAFT OCTOBER 2009 - everything I write this month, August, will go into that folder and I won't look at it again until October. I always like to leave at least six weeks to two months before revisiting a piece because I will have almost forgotten it and that gives me some distance and I'm more able to be subjective about it - I won't feel bad about cutting out all of my 'darlings'.
I've redrafted the poem, what next?
Where to submit poetry
The best thing any writer can do before beginning to write, let alone submit work, is to READ. If you want to write poetry then read poetry - I read somewhere that there are huge numbers of people writing poetry in the UK and the rest of the world but there aren't huge numbers of people reading poetry...strange...That's a bit like a rock band saying they never listened to music.
Once you're reading lots of poetry you'll have some idea of where you'd like your work to end up that's because you'll want to know more about your favourite poet and you'll Google them or find them on Poem Hunter (I'm on there!) and soon discover which magazines published their work. In addition to that you can look at the excellent lists at the Poetry Library's site or sign up to a writers' newsletter like Writer's Relief which will send you a list of calls for submission every month along with hints and tips for writers.
These are just a few ways you can find out where to place your work. Don't forget that it is easy to get work published online with plenty of obscure websites - anyone can set up a site and put whatever they like on there, that's the beauty of the internet - but if you want to build a good reputation for yourself and to be taken seriously as a professional then you have to keep to the professional sites. That's not to say that a new online poetry magazine isn't worth submitting to, but just make sure that it's the sort of place you'll be proud to be a part of in the future.
Don't ever pay to have your work read - if it's good enough for a reputable magazine to accept then they will not charge you a reading fee. Most magazines sadly won't be able to pay you for your submission - if you want to make money from writing you'd be far better off going into journalism. Magazines will often send you a free copy of the edition in which you've appeared. The only time you're likely to spend more than just the postage fee is if you're entering a competition - that's how most poetry competitions are run - the winner(s) get a cash prize or published copies of their work.
You've selected some likely magazines, what now?
First of all read the submission guidelines - you won't even make it to the long list if you've formatted your work incorrectly, emailed it as an attachment when they've asked for work to be in the body, sent it to the wrong person, sent free verse to a sonnet magazine and so on.
Secondly read the submission guidelines again and make sure you've complied with all their demands - this is very important.
Then write your covering letter - make it simple and to the point, remember to be polite because good manners cost nothing and you never know when you might meet this person in the flesh at a literary festival, book launch, writers' workshop or even in the pub.
If you're sending something via snailmail then make sure you include a stamped self-addressed envelope so they can either return your work, send you a rejection letter or even an acceptance letter! Remember though that you'll probably send out at least ten to twenty submissions for every single acceptance, if you're lucky.
How to keep track of all your submissions
This is the bit that I really wanted to write about - the whole reason for this post! Most poetry magazines accept and encourage simultaneous submissions - this is where you have a poem that you send to four or five magazines at the same time. If one magazine accepts it you then contact the others and ask for it to be withdrawn from you submission explaining why. Magazines do not encourage multiple submissions - this is where you send one or more poems every week without fail - that's the work of a stalker not a poet. Bundle up your submissions and send one containing up to five or six poems (depending on the magazine guidelines) and if they are all rejected or accepted you still wait a reasonable amount of time before submitting again - this is also usually mentioned in the magazine guidelines.
Once I've received a rejection or acceptance from a magazine I do two things: first I re-read the rejected poems and see if I think it needs rewriting, tightening up or 'rested' (in the dustbin), secondly, if I think it's still a piece that works, I get it straight out to another magazine.
I use an Excel spreadsheet for listing all my poetry ready for submission and all the magazines where they've been submitted.
Each poem submitted gets a date - month and year when it was sent off and where, once I get a reply the date is either changed to red - rejection, or moved onto another spreadsheet. I keep a separate spreadsheet for all the successful pieces as once they've been published they can't be sent off to another magazine generally. The screenshot above is for my current poems awaiting acceptance - I've taken out the titles of both poems and journals. I also put in a hyperlink from Excel straight to the journal website and also to the document folder where the poem is saved.
This works for me and gives me something practical to do once I receive a rejection. Of course I spend a bit of time moaning about it and feeling down but if you want to be in print you have to be like a cowboy - grow a thick skin - it comes in handy for all those times you have to get back up on the horse!
In short, I'm a busy person, especially if you factor in my Twitter/Facebook/b3ta habit, reading approximately one novel a week, cooking and gardening too.
I find that I do most of my writing - the poetry and the occasional short story/half written novel - during the university vacations when I have no other demands upon my time except family ones. My children know that during the school holidays they can stay up a little later and they can laze around in bed until 10am if they fancy because I'll be writing until about lunchtime and then the afternoon and evenings are theirs.
So all of this means that writing poetry in particular tends to be done in these splurges and because of all the rest of the stuff I need to get done I have to be organised about redrafting and submitting work otherwise it would all simply sit in the virtual dusty drawer of my Documents folder on my laptop. How I organise this may be of some help to you...if you're not organised properly for writing you're not treating it like the job that it is!
Here's how I do it....
First Drafts and 'The Muse'
I don't believe in this notion of 'The Muse' and waiting for it to strike, some people (even some published writers) that I know do go along with the idea that they'll only write poetry when they get the feeling that it's about to strike. They're the lucky ones - that doesn't happen for me and if it did I have a feeling my Muse would strike at 3.00am and I hate having a broken night's sleep.
I try to write to a routine. I aim at sitting down every day Monday to Friday from about 9.00am until at least lunchtime and writing/editing/submitting - doing all the stuff that's involved in my job - the job of being a writer/academic/mother/dogsbody! Some days and some weeks I write every day, other times I might spend a week or two sorting out lecture plans, magazine submissions, job applications or even - and this is a guilty secret - watching YouTube and reading junk online - I feel bad about those days even though those are the times when my subconscious is probably working really hard at a new poem....okay, I don't really believe that either, but hey, I'm human.
I also go out and write because then I don't get distracted by the internet, newspapers, the internet, gardening, the internet, cats and the internet. Cafes work best for me because I can watch the world go by wrapped up in my cocoon of caffeine and there's something very special about writing longhand in a nice notebook.
So, what do I do once I've got all these First Drafts?
The Redrafting Filing System
Everything I write gets typed up either straight into Word, or more recently I've been using Evernote - it's free and you can save your work both on a laptop/pc and online and synchronise the two together to keep it all up to date. It also takes screen clippings from sites so you can keep all your research together too.
I then put this first draft into a folder marked redraft for two months time e.g. REDRAFT OCTOBER 2009 - everything I write this month, August, will go into that folder and I won't look at it again until October. I always like to leave at least six weeks to two months before revisiting a piece because I will have almost forgotten it and that gives me some distance and I'm more able to be subjective about it - I won't feel bad about cutting out all of my 'darlings'.
I've redrafted the poem, what next?
Where to submit poetry
The best thing any writer can do before beginning to write, let alone submit work, is to READ. If you want to write poetry then read poetry - I read somewhere that there are huge numbers of people writing poetry in the UK and the rest of the world but there aren't huge numbers of people reading poetry...strange...That's a bit like a rock band saying they never listened to music.
Once you're reading lots of poetry you'll have some idea of where you'd like your work to end up that's because you'll want to know more about your favourite poet and you'll Google them or find them on Poem Hunter (I'm on there!) and soon discover which magazines published their work. In addition to that you can look at the excellent lists at the Poetry Library's site or sign up to a writers' newsletter like Writer's Relief which will send you a list of calls for submission every month along with hints and tips for writers.
These are just a few ways you can find out where to place your work. Don't forget that it is easy to get work published online with plenty of obscure websites - anyone can set up a site and put whatever they like on there, that's the beauty of the internet - but if you want to build a good reputation for yourself and to be taken seriously as a professional then you have to keep to the professional sites. That's not to say that a new online poetry magazine isn't worth submitting to, but just make sure that it's the sort of place you'll be proud to be a part of in the future.
Don't ever pay to have your work read - if it's good enough for a reputable magazine to accept then they will not charge you a reading fee. Most magazines sadly won't be able to pay you for your submission - if you want to make money from writing you'd be far better off going into journalism. Magazines will often send you a free copy of the edition in which you've appeared. The only time you're likely to spend more than just the postage fee is if you're entering a competition - that's how most poetry competitions are run - the winner(s) get a cash prize or published copies of their work.
You've selected some likely magazines, what now?
First of all read the submission guidelines - you won't even make it to the long list if you've formatted your work incorrectly, emailed it as an attachment when they've asked for work to be in the body, sent it to the wrong person, sent free verse to a sonnet magazine and so on.
Secondly read the submission guidelines again and make sure you've complied with all their demands - this is very important.
Then write your covering letter - make it simple and to the point, remember to be polite because good manners cost nothing and you never know when you might meet this person in the flesh at a literary festival, book launch, writers' workshop or even in the pub.
If you're sending something via snailmail then make sure you include a stamped self-addressed envelope so they can either return your work, send you a rejection letter or even an acceptance letter! Remember though that you'll probably send out at least ten to twenty submissions for every single acceptance, if you're lucky.
How to keep track of all your submissions
This is the bit that I really wanted to write about - the whole reason for this post! Most poetry magazines accept and encourage simultaneous submissions - this is where you have a poem that you send to four or five magazines at the same time. If one magazine accepts it you then contact the others and ask for it to be withdrawn from you submission explaining why. Magazines do not encourage multiple submissions - this is where you send one or more poems every week without fail - that's the work of a stalker not a poet. Bundle up your submissions and send one containing up to five or six poems (depending on the magazine guidelines) and if they are all rejected or accepted you still wait a reasonable amount of time before submitting again - this is also usually mentioned in the magazine guidelines.
Once I've received a rejection or acceptance from a magazine I do two things: first I re-read the rejected poems and see if I think it needs rewriting, tightening up or 'rested' (in the dustbin), secondly, if I think it's still a piece that works, I get it straight out to another magazine.
I use an Excel spreadsheet for listing all my poetry ready for submission and all the magazines where they've been submitted.
Each poem submitted gets a date - month and year when it was sent off and where, once I get a reply the date is either changed to red - rejection, or moved onto another spreadsheet. I keep a separate spreadsheet for all the successful pieces as once they've been published they can't be sent off to another magazine generally. The screenshot above is for my current poems awaiting acceptance - I've taken out the titles of both poems and journals. I also put in a hyperlink from Excel straight to the journal website and also to the document folder where the poem is saved.This works for me and gives me something practical to do once I receive a rejection. Of course I spend a bit of time moaning about it and feeling down but if you want to be in print you have to be like a cowboy - grow a thick skin - it comes in handy for all those times you have to get back up on the horse!
Monday, 8 June 2009
A week in North Wales
Just back from a lovely week in North Wales. We went to Llanberis - the Mecca of mountain biking, hiking and rock climbing. We spent a day at Coed Y Brenin mountain biking - I did the Cyflym Coch route and then spent a couple of hours with my feet up lazing in the grass reading Popco by Scarlett Thomas while P went off on another two trails. I got the best deal, undoubtedly. 
We also spent a day hiking up Snowdon - we took the Pyg Trail up and the Miners Trail down - in hindsight this was a mistake and next time I'd go up Miners and down Pyg - Miners is a far gentler pathway up and Pyg is apparently the hardest. The strangest thing of all was that my hands began to swell up on the ascent and didn't finally return to normal until late in the day well after we'd got back to town. A quick Google search tells me just what I'd suspected - the warm weather combined with walking and swinging my arms while wearing a heavy back pack all combined to stop the blood flow from my hands travelling back to my heart. Added to which I was drinking plenty of water which would have diluted the electrolytes in my blood.
Science!
The best bit of the holiday was without doubt the climbing of Flying Buttress which is a Very Difficult (or VDiff) route on the Dinas Cromlech crag in the Llanberis Pass. It was my first outdoor climb of the year and P's first ever outdoor climb and his first multi-pitch too. The sun was shining, the air was warm and the climb was wonderfully easy, apart from the final pitch with the nasty polished chimney which resulted in me making rather a lot of odd noises and swearing quite a bit too. The worst bit of the entire day was the walk/scramble up to the crag and back again. I hate scrambling. I know you're supposed to stay upright and walk but I always seem to end up sliding down on my backside and moving very, very slowly. Just stick a rope on me and let me abseil down!
Anyway, back now and onto more mundane things - exams to mark and poetry to submit, read, write and review.
I promise to write a long review of a wonderful poem written by Maria McCarthy (Medway Maria) which is long overdue.
I also promise to write about the poetry collections I've been reading and buying lately.
Later.
We also spent a day hiking up Snowdon - we took the Pyg Trail up and the Miners Trail down - in hindsight this was a mistake and next time I'd go up Miners and down Pyg - Miners is a far gentler pathway up and Pyg is apparently the hardest. The strangest thing of all was that my hands began to swell up on the ascent and didn't finally return to normal until late in the day well after we'd got back to town. A quick Google search tells me just what I'd suspected - the warm weather combined with walking and swinging my arms while wearing a heavy back pack all combined to stop the blood flow from my hands travelling back to my heart. Added to which I was drinking plenty of water which would have diluted the electrolytes in my blood.
Science!
The best bit of the holiday was without doubt the climbing of Flying Buttress which is a Very Difficult (or VDiff) route on the Dinas Cromlech crag in the Llanberis Pass. It was my first outdoor climb of the year and P's first ever outdoor climb and his first multi-pitch too. The sun was shining, the air was warm and the climb was wonderfully easy, apart from the final pitch with the nasty polished chimney which resulted in me making rather a lot of odd noises and swearing quite a bit too. The worst bit of the entire day was the walk/scramble up to the crag and back again. I hate scrambling. I know you're supposed to stay upright and walk but I always seem to end up sliding down on my backside and moving very, very slowly. Just stick a rope on me and let me abseil down!
Anyway, back now and onto more mundane things - exams to mark and poetry to submit, read, write and review.
I promise to write a long review of a wonderful poem written by Maria McCarthy (Medway Maria) which is long overdue.
I also promise to write about the poetry collections I've been reading and buying lately.
Later.
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Writing and being rejected
Again it's been ages since I posted here - I've gone from being a regular blogger to a sometimes one and the only excuse I have is that I've been writing so much more elsewhere.
I've been trying to be very disciplined with myself and to follow the Stephen King advice of writing at least 1,000 to 2,000 words each day.
That worked for at least two weeks. I was very proud of myself.
My problem seems to be that life just gets in the way - kids to take to and from school and other places, parents who need dropping off at airports and hospital appointments, friends who have to be kept up with, animals needing vets, cupboards needing filling, wardrobes lacking shoes....
Try and keep writing through all of that!
But of course I do because that is what I do. It tends to be a bit haphazard and some days I get a few hundred words down and other days I don't. I do need to write more but haven't we all got things that we really need to get done?
I read on a website the other day about the idea of setting yourself a specific target within a particular time frame - nothing exactly earth-shattering in this, but it did resonate with me.
And it's no good whining on about not having as much in print as you'd like if you don't actually submit stuff to editors - no one knows you're there unless you tell them.
And what's the worst they can say?
Email is a fabulous invention - I can send off half a dozen poems and I never have to see or speak to anyone about it. When I receive my rejection emails I can weep silently into my coffee without anyone knowing the reason why.
At least they're sending out rejection emails now, I used to just be ignored so I guess I must be
doing something right somewhere along the line.
And even including this particular image of writing says so much about my idea of Good Writing and the value I put upon it. It gives away my intentions and expectations for my own writing but most of all it shows how terribly romantic I am about writing.
The other day I was talking about Salman Rushdie's latest novel, The Enchantress of Florence and I was saying how much this was my type of book because it reminds me of my earliest reading memories. I remember being taken to the library in my village and chosing a large cloth bound book of fairy tales. There were three that I can recall, one orange, one red and one yellow. Each contained stories from Grimms, Andersen or the Arabian Nights I think. I know now that these were the famous colour collections from Andrew Lang and in fact I managed to find an image of one of them - I found this on an auction house's site, the book is valued at around £50-£75 and dates from the 1920s - it's the same sort that I read as a child in the late 70s. It seemed old and smelled old even back then but that added to the precious nature of it. Thick yellowing pages and the smell of old wood and mushrooms.
And that's what keeps me reading and writing - I love returning to the world that was contained within those colourful books.
I've been trying to be very disciplined with myself and to follow the Stephen King advice of writing at least 1,000 to 2,000 words each day.
That worked for at least two weeks. I was very proud of myself.
My problem seems to be that life just gets in the way - kids to take to and from school and other places, parents who need dropping off at airports and hospital appointments, friends who have to be kept up with, animals needing vets, cupboards needing filling, wardrobes lacking shoes....
Try and keep writing through all of that!
But of course I do because that is what I do. It tends to be a bit haphazard and some days I get a few hundred words down and other days I don't. I do need to write more but haven't we all got things that we really need to get done?
I read on a website the other day about the idea of setting yourself a specific target within a particular time frame - nothing exactly earth-shattering in this, but it did resonate with me.
And it's no good whining on about not having as much in print as you'd like if you don't actually submit stuff to editors - no one knows you're there unless you tell them.
And what's the worst they can say?
Email is a fabulous invention - I can send off half a dozen poems and I never have to see or speak to anyone about it. When I receive my rejection emails I can weep silently into my coffee without anyone knowing the reason why.
At least they're sending out rejection emails now, I used to just be ignored so I guess I must be
doing something right somewhere along the line.And even including this particular image of writing says so much about my idea of Good Writing and the value I put upon it. It gives away my intentions and expectations for my own writing but most of all it shows how terribly romantic I am about writing.
The other day I was talking about Salman Rushdie's latest novel, The Enchantress of Florence and I was saying how much this was my type of book because it reminds me of my earliest reading memories. I remember being taken to the library in my village and chosing a large cloth bound book of fairy tales. There were three that I can recall, one orange, one red and one yellow. Each contained stories from Grimms, Andersen or the Arabian Nights I think. I know now that these were the famous colour collections from Andrew Lang and in fact I managed to find an image of one of them - I found this on an auction house's site, the book is valued at around £50-£75 and dates from the 1920s - it's the same sort that I read as a child in the late 70s. It seemed old and smelled old even back then but that added to the precious nature of it. Thick yellowing pages and the smell of old wood and mushrooms.And that's what keeps me reading and writing - I love returning to the world that was contained within those colourful books.
Friday, 14 March 2008
Reading and Writing
At the moment I'm reading a Bukowski short story collection (The Most Beautiful Woman in Town and other stories). The writing reminds me very much of Henry Miller in Tropic of Cancer - it's vigorous, bawdy, honest and funny. But as both books are memoirs (of sorts) and therefore about writing as much as what happens in their day to day lives, it's making me think about how much (or how little) I write. And read.
There are simply not enough hours in the day for me to plough through my waiting list of books to read. So much information and tales that I want to gorge myself on yet time slips through my hands like sand.
I need to work out some sort of system for myself whereby I read a book that I class as Literature and then something purely for pleasure. Sometimes these might overlap, but generally the Literature requires me to engage my brain whereas the stuff I look at purely for pleasure doesn't. I suppose it's a bit like food - Literature is a good meal at a top restaurant, pleasure books are the literary equivalent of MacDonalds and Burger King. That said, there are the rare occasions when I pick up what I consider to be a MacBook and it turns out to be a real feast.
Stephen King said somewhere that anyone wishing to pursue writing as a career should read for at least four hours every day. Some days I can probably do that - although most of that will be made up of reading on a pc screen - not what I think he meant at all. I certainly used to read for a good four hours each day and in all honesty it's not a huge amount out of 24 hours. But in our busy 21st century lives it's a massive hole. Audio books I suppose could help - at least for those of us for whom driving is unavoidable.
Hmm…I should be reading now and not writing aimless musings to myself.
There are simply not enough hours in the day for me to plough through my waiting list of books to read. So much information and tales that I want to gorge myself on yet time slips through my hands like sand.
I need to work out some sort of system for myself whereby I read a book that I class as Literature and then something purely for pleasure. Sometimes these might overlap, but generally the Literature requires me to engage my brain whereas the stuff I look at purely for pleasure doesn't. I suppose it's a bit like food - Literature is a good meal at a top restaurant, pleasure books are the literary equivalent of MacDonalds and Burger King. That said, there are the rare occasions when I pick up what I consider to be a MacBook and it turns out to be a real feast.
Stephen King said somewhere that anyone wishing to pursue writing as a career should read for at least four hours every day. Some days I can probably do that - although most of that will be made up of reading on a pc screen - not what I think he meant at all. I certainly used to read for a good four hours each day and in all honesty it's not a huge amount out of 24 hours. But in our busy 21st century lives it's a massive hole. Audio books I suppose could help - at least for those of us for whom driving is unavoidable.
Hmm…I should be reading now and not writing aimless musings to myself.
Wednesday, 20 February 2008
Bibliophilia
No real secret about me – my love of books. It’s something I share with many of my closest friends and in many ways marks out individuals with whom I’m more likely to spend time.
Descartes said “I think therefore I am” for me I would alter that to “I read therefore I think”. In my opinion reading is an active pursuit not a passive one – when I read I am the author’s audience. I am the screen upon which the author’s imagination can project its images – yet they are always my images. Have you ever seen a film of a book you’ve read? Then you’ll know what I mean – you watch and think to yourself, ‘But that’s not how it was’ or ‘That’s not how they looked’. Reading is an active pursuit because one needs to conjure up the images in ones head – the author suggests them but the reader makes them real, fleshes them out in their head. Readers are also active in piecing together the clues left in the plot – even when the story isn’t a mystery or crime novel. All stories are mysteries – what will happen next? How will things turn out? Will it end happily? As readers we are constantly watching for clues and signs – even when we think we’re not. I could go on at length now about semiotics – film semiotics in particular is a love of mine. It reminds me of crossword puzzles – something in truth I’m lousy at – but the semiotics of a film – the why and how, the grammar and language of film – that gives me a perverse kick. Likewise the critical examination of a good book is something I have come to appreciate over the years.
And you can see more details of the staircase here.
Descartes said “I think therefore I am” for me I would alter that to “I read therefore I think”. In my opinion reading is an active pursuit not a passive one – when I read I am the author’s audience. I am the screen upon which the author’s imagination can project its images – yet they are always my images. Have you ever seen a film of a book you’ve read? Then you’ll know what I mean – you watch and think to yourself, ‘But that’s not how it was’ or ‘That’s not how they looked’. Reading is an active pursuit because one needs to conjure up the images in ones head – the author suggests them but the reader makes them real, fleshes them out in their head. Readers are also active in piecing together the clues left in the plot – even when the story isn’t a mystery or crime novel. All stories are mysteries – what will happen next? How will things turn out? Will it end happily? As readers we are constantly watching for clues and signs – even when we think we’re not. I could go on at length now about semiotics – film semiotics in particular is a love of mine. It reminds me of crossword puzzles – something in truth I’m lousy at – but the semiotics of a film – the why and how, the grammar and language of film – that gives me a perverse kick. Likewise the critical examination of a good book is something I have come to appreciate over the years.
But it’s not just what’s contained between those cardboard leaves but the actual bookishness of the book itself – its form, its smell – the promise of far off lands, other times, other lives, new ideas, new adventures, new people – all those things and the weight, the smooth page under my fingertip, the small file filled up in my head once I’ve finished the story.
Is it any wonder I once made an art installation of a book repository – a storage room full of shelves and on each shelf row after row of neat piled shoe boxes – each with details printed on the outside of a book I had read, the main or most resonating character for me and the age at which I was when I read it. Small children’s shoe boxes for “What Katy Did Next”, “Ballet Shoes” and an entire shelf devoted to Enid Blyton. One thing I forgot until the piece was being shown was a dark corner where I could have shoved all the Jackie Colllins and Danielle Steele boxes so they would have been almost out of view, my shame nearly hidden…
And you can see more details of the staircase here.
Monday, 1 October 2007
A quick update
Time really does fly when you're having fun....
Almost a month since I updated the blog. What have I been up to? Well many of you may be aware that I've been writing a novel as part of a masters degree....I've finished it! Or at least, I've finished the entire first draft. The last third has now been handed in as my dissertation for the masters and I'll hear within the next two weeks about how I've fared.
That's the biggest reason for not writing anything here.
In other news I've been climbing a great deal - not much outside stuff, but really pushing myself at the indoor wall. I've been out a little bit, saw the Angry Pirates again, went out a few times with The Flatterer - he's now become a great friend at whom I can poke fun. I've also been out with The Climber - another one who has become part of my social circle and like the rest of them tends to keep me up to date on their love life and girlfriend troubles.
Now the deadline for the dissertation is past I've got to start thinking about the major rewrites for the whole novel and getting it ready to be turned down by publishers. I'm also preparing for a few days away in New York to see friends and family!
Today I came across this very interesting post on a blog all about reading and the state of reading in the USA. As regular readers know, I'm an avid reader and this piece reminded me why I love reading so much. Enjoy.
Reading in America
Almost a month since I updated the blog. What have I been up to? Well many of you may be aware that I've been writing a novel as part of a masters degree....I've finished it! Or at least, I've finished the entire first draft. The last third has now been handed in as my dissertation for the masters and I'll hear within the next two weeks about how I've fared.
That's the biggest reason for not writing anything here.
In other news I've been climbing a great deal - not much outside stuff, but really pushing myself at the indoor wall. I've been out a little bit, saw the Angry Pirates again, went out a few times with The Flatterer - he's now become a great friend at whom I can poke fun. I've also been out with The Climber - another one who has become part of my social circle and like the rest of them tends to keep me up to date on their love life and girlfriend troubles.
Now the deadline for the dissertation is past I've got to start thinking about the major rewrites for the whole novel and getting it ready to be turned down by publishers. I'm also preparing for a few days away in New York to see friends and family!
Today I came across this very interesting post on a blog all about reading and the state of reading in the USA. As regular readers know, I'm an avid reader and this piece reminded me why I love reading so much. Enjoy.
Reading in America
Friday, 7 September 2007
A Thoughtful One
I'm into the thick of writing these days - the final throes of the novella. So all that tight plotting and sentence construction does rather tend to make me fall back on myself. I can be a very introspective person at the best of times - I've mentioned here before that I like nothing more than to examine conversations I've had with a microscope - or Fine Tooth Comb as my mother would say. Considering how a character might act or react leads me to consider my actions and the actions of those around me too.
I do wonder about the whole notion of Nature versus Nurture - you know the idea that we are who we are because of our inherited genes, or because of what we may have experienced. I'm inclined to think that our genes provide a starting block and nurture - our experiences give us the shades and tones of our characters. As a child I believed quite firmly that before being born we each were given a film show of potential lives and then told to chose one - none being necessarily better than another, but each with hardship and happiness and more importantly the opportunities for learning. I believed that everyone was here for a purpose - to achieve something, to learn something or teach something, and once that purpose was met then our lives would be over - we would return to the celestial waiting room and go through the entire process again. I think a lot of my ideas came from reading things like Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha when I was at school. So I suppose that proves my theory too - I am a product of my own reading and education, but only because I already had certain leanings because of my inherited nature from my parents - a great deal of books that I read as a child came from my dad's huge collection. I was always encouraged to read anything I could lay my hands on and subsequently by the time I left school I had worked my way through popular fiction in the shape of Stephen King, Jackie Collins and Danielle Steel (shared those ones with my mum) and I'd also dipped into some great literature like Hesse, Nin, H.G.Wells, John Wyndham,Orwell,Hardy and loads more. Reading and writing have always been fundamental facets of my personality.
Strangely enough this post was going to be about the effect different people have upon ones life...hmm...I've ended up writing about books. That says a great deal about me.
I've always been of the opinion that I'm a very straightforward person - I was once described as an Open Book - easy to read and with no secrets. But I was told the other day that I am a difficult and demanding character - not in a bad way, but nonetheless, not straightforward at all. I suppose we all become more difficult and demanding as life's experiences shape us and leave us a little more wary and afraid of being hurt again. I'm often saying that I wish people would be honest with me. Why can't men be honest with women? Or women honest with men? Just a few exchanges with my friends opens a whole new can of worms about lack of communication and honesty in their personal relationships.
Honesty is a wonderful thing but sometimes we don't want to hear the truth.
This post is terribly obtuse I'm afraid...unformed ideas appearing on the screen springing from lots of deep thoughts and the usual chaos of my life...and as usual I'm unwilling to come clean about quite what is bugging me...partly to protect the innocent (who would that be then?) and partly to preserve some weak façade of privacy which is hypocritical to say the least - I keep a blog for god's sake! Suffice to say things aren't straightforward, quite the reverse.
Not the usual playful post. Deeply thoughtful. Perhaps when it all comes out in the wash I'll be able to unravel it.
I do wonder about the whole notion of Nature versus Nurture - you know the idea that we are who we are because of our inherited genes, or because of what we may have experienced. I'm inclined to think that our genes provide a starting block and nurture - our experiences give us the shades and tones of our characters. As a child I believed quite firmly that before being born we each were given a film show of potential lives and then told to chose one - none being necessarily better than another, but each with hardship and happiness and more importantly the opportunities for learning. I believed that everyone was here for a purpose - to achieve something, to learn something or teach something, and once that purpose was met then our lives would be over - we would return to the celestial waiting room and go through the entire process again. I think a lot of my ideas came from reading things like Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha when I was at school. So I suppose that proves my theory too - I am a product of my own reading and education, but only because I already had certain leanings because of my inherited nature from my parents - a great deal of books that I read as a child came from my dad's huge collection. I was always encouraged to read anything I could lay my hands on and subsequently by the time I left school I had worked my way through popular fiction in the shape of Stephen King, Jackie Collins and Danielle Steel (shared those ones with my mum) and I'd also dipped into some great literature like Hesse, Nin, H.G.Wells, John Wyndham,Orwell,Hardy and loads more. Reading and writing have always been fundamental facets of my personality.
Strangely enough this post was going to be about the effect different people have upon ones life...hmm...I've ended up writing about books. That says a great deal about me.
I've always been of the opinion that I'm a very straightforward person - I was once described as an Open Book - easy to read and with no secrets. But I was told the other day that I am a difficult and demanding character - not in a bad way, but nonetheless, not straightforward at all. I suppose we all become more difficult and demanding as life's experiences shape us and leave us a little more wary and afraid of being hurt again. I'm often saying that I wish people would be honest with me. Why can't men be honest with women? Or women honest with men? Just a few exchanges with my friends opens a whole new can of worms about lack of communication and honesty in their personal relationships.
Honesty is a wonderful thing but sometimes we don't want to hear the truth.
This post is terribly obtuse I'm afraid...unformed ideas appearing on the screen springing from lots of deep thoughts and the usual chaos of my life...and as usual I'm unwilling to come clean about quite what is bugging me...partly to protect the innocent (who would that be then?) and partly to preserve some weak façade of privacy which is hypocritical to say the least - I keep a blog for god's sake! Suffice to say things aren't straightforward, quite the reverse.
Not the usual playful post. Deeply thoughtful. Perhaps when it all comes out in the wash I'll be able to unravel it.
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