First draft - hope it's not rubbish!

I have been poorly this week, but laryngitis doesn't stop you writing, just talking, so I have finally plucked up the courage to create a first draft of my third chapbook, Map. I'm a bit worried it's going to be rubbish, and it might be...but you can be the judge of that (when I finish it).

1st illustration from Map

Pulling Teeth - a guest post from Elise Newman

Thanks, Debbie, for making space on your lovely blog for the ridiculous musings of this short Canadian would-be playwright, director, and vagabond.

I have a hard time saying “I’m a writer” when someone asks the dreaded “And what do you do?” question. It never comes out without a bit of waffling and mumbled “sort of” and “one day” and “I try to be...”

It might come off as obnoxious self-deprecation, but it’s seriously difficult to claim “I’m a writer” when most of my day is full of non-writing. When Debbie suggested we swap blog posts, she thought I could write something about my process. At the moment, my process isn’t really working out, seeing as I’m spending my days finding excuses not to write.

I love having written. The actual writing of it is sometimes like pulling teeth.

When I do decide to pull teeth, my writing process goes something like this:

1) An image, sentence, or character gets lodged in my imagination.

2) It grows, swims around, and hatches in my head.

3) I sit down and write random thoughts, scenes, dialogue, and images all the while trying not to think too much. This step rarely happens without a deadline.

4) I try not to censor myself as I write. This is my biggest challenge.

5) I eat a lot of chocolate, drink a lot of coffee, and stay in my pyjamas as much as possible.

6) I write nonsense by hand, rewrite it as I type it on the computer, doodle, read it out loud, print it, mark it up, rewrite it, get depressed because it’s terrible, organise my pencils, sleep, read it again, find something ok in it, rewrite it, send it to a friend, get an ego boost from their comments and a reality check from their criticism. Rewrite it.

7) Realise it’s not perfect, but save the document with a final-seeming title anyway.

8) The process usually takes a long long time. Years, even, if you count all that percolating of ideas (steps one and two).

These days, I’m letting things block my process at step 3. I have ideas. I have images and characters and situations in my head. I’m just too lazy (or afraid) to sit down and write. But I’ll get right down to it, now that I’ve admitted it publicly.

But I do have very valid excuses why I just don’t have time to write at the moment:

-I have to read this book/blog/cereal box first- it’s research! (Sometimes it’s time to put the research away and write what you think you know. And fix the facts later.) -I don’t have a good place to write- my desk is too messy (there are several adorable coffee shops around as well as a kitchen table, and the library).

-I need to clean my desk, my room, the bathroom, and reorganize my spice rack before I can even think about writing (if you can live in the mess, you should be able to write in the mess)

-I should finish this thing that actually pays me money before I spend time on writing (there will always be something that needs to be done)

-Let me just Google writing contests, grants, and residencies to get motivated

-Parks and Recreation is on. 

Me, actually writing.

If you'd like to peruse Elise's blog, Around the world in 80 plays, please do - it's funny, honest and takes you to places you've never been!

Practice makes....improvement.

After my last post, I have been back to the drawing board (and the writing board). I had to scrap the idea of using that old story - I couldn't make it work.

What made me scrap it was a new and much more interesting idea that has been floating around in my head for the last few years. I was struck by many things at Grayson Perry's, 'The Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman' exhibition at the British Museum, but two sets of items particularly triggered the idea for my third chapbook. First were Perry's vases, (one is pictured below). Another vase called 'The Frivolous Now,' contained images, ideas, phrases and words from the day it was designed - the images compose a cross between a collage of ideas and a map.

The Rosetta Vase, 2011
Grayson Perry
Glazed ceramic

Second was Perry's caption about maps:

We trust maps. Maps are meant to be a trustworthy diagram of reality. All maps though, contain some very human bias. They can emphasise desirable features and leave out the undesirable.

- Grayson Perry, The Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman,
British Museum Exhibition, 2012

 I have put images with my words in my first two chapbooks, but this time, I'm going to mix the two in such a way that the story won't really work without the pictures (perhaps a bit risky). It will be a kind of map. 

I have had to try and draw faces this time, which I have never ever been good at. Why not look at this one and see what you think? A lot of ink and paper has been used in the making of this image...

Sketch for 'Chapbook Three,'
Feb 2012

"Draw large and startling figures."

“When you can assume that your audience holds the same beliefs as you do, you can relax a little and use morenormal means of talking to it; when you have to assume that it does not, thenyou have to make your vision apparent by shock, to the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost-blind, you draw large and startling figures.” - Flannery O'Connor

I was challenged this week to answer some questions about my second chapbook, Swallow. I think the word 'challenge' is over-used, but what I mean is that I found the questions difficult to answer. I remember a workshop at UEA when a story of mine was being discussed and someone made an assumption about it that I felt was completely wrong. I said 'well you're not reading it properly' or something along those lines. My worthy (and correct) opponent, colleague, critic and friend said 'no, you haven't written it properly.' The words stung, because they were true. 

As a writer who is subtle at best and vague at worst, I am often reminded by my readers that I need to work on clarity (see quotation from Joseph Pulitzer from my first post). I like to try and show my stories to a range of people, to see if they 'get' them. I think when people describe your work as 'interesting,' with no further elucidation you can safely assume they didn't know what to make of it or they didn't like it and don't want to hurt your feelings - that's always a risk and fair play if they just don't like it.

But this week my questions were genuine and came from a someone who really wanted to know and understand. I tend to think of myself as not very clever - so it is very hard for me to accept that my work is 'subtle.' To me it is completely clear, easy to understand and sometimes even clunky and obvious. It was drummed into me to show not tell, so I fear that I run the risk of not even showing sometimes. Interestingly the questions were about plot. I don't really rate plot highly when I make up a story. I suppose I write as if I'm painting a picture, instead of travelling from A to B. But I am far more disciplined than I was, because nowadays I like to finish stories and not just start them (see post about being grown-up). So I tend to have an idea what will happen before I start writing. The problem is that not much does actually happen. It's all blinks and gestures and one or two words.

So with regards to O'Connor's words above - I think 'beliefs' can be read as much broader than just religious beliefs - I need to get on with making the 'large and startling figures.'

With regards to the questions, I will do my best to answer them!

________________________

This week I have been taking a leaf out of Michael Nobbs' book and doing just 20 minutes worth of writing at a time. The kitchen timer I got for Christmas really concentrates the mind and makes me think faster. I have made a start, therefore, with chapbook three and have done a few squiggles which will hopefully turn into illustrations one day.

Create a sense of momentum

I stumbled on Sustainably Creative last night - thought you might be interested...

I have only scratched the surface of the blog, but I found this post particularly inspiring. 

20 Things you can do in 20 minutes (and create a sense of momentum).

Last night I wrote for 20 minutes with good old pencil and paper.

Quickening the eye.

I found the bits of story that I thought I'd use for my third chapbook and made the mistake of reading them. They're not bad, exactly, but they have muddled up my thoughts. I remembered the story idea back in the Autumn and thought it was a goer - but I only remembered the idea and the place where I sat in a park in Norwich where I wrote it (in one of those old-fashioned notebooks). So coming to read it now, I notice far too much of myself and a lot of clumsy writing. I will have to side-step that reading and start again. 

I hope the idea is still a goer....

Someone asked me at the weekend if I believe in "writer's block." I said rather self-righteously that I thought it was just laziness. What I meant was that in my case it is just laziness - I don't know about other people. If I haven't written for a while, I make excuses and then when about two months have passed I have a massive worry and start writing something. It's not a water-tight method (it's not any kind of method) - but it seems to happen that way.

Looking back at old work/ideas can be very odd. Sometimes you look back and don't recognise the work at all (often that is the good stuff). Sometimes you look back and see your former self elbowing in through the page (like the example above). Sometimes you are astonished by how clever you were (note past tense) and sometimes how excruciatingly stupid (often). 

I read a long time ago that you have to write everyday to get better at it (see writer's block above). I don't write fiction everyday - I am too lazy. But I do read a lot and I like writing letters and sometimes this blog. I didn't understand about practising until I started to learn how to draw. It is amazing how rubbish you can get at drawing if you take a break from it. Your eye literally slows down and your pencil doesn't know where to go. I realise by looking back at old essays (more than stories) that I could tackle quite complicated things then because I was reading and writing and practising all the time. My eye has slowed down since I was at university. But the good news is that I can speed it up by reading and writing, by sharpening my pencil and dusting off my books. 

He won't mind me mentioning this, I hope, but a former university tutor of mine (and now, friend) once leant me his copy of Mystery and Manners by Flannery O'Connor. He handed it to me and said that a former tutor of his had leant it to him previously - I felt very important. The beautiful book, of which I now have my own copy, has been a great resource over the years and helps me to speed my eye up for writing and thinking. Andrew Tate's own book, Douglas Coupland, has also quickened up my eye and made me want to jump back into the world of lectures and tutorials a few times (needless to say, I am a Coupland fan). This feeling of eye-quickening is hard to explain, but it's magic.

Thanks, Andy.

So I will try to forget I read those bits of story from the UEA days and get out a fresh sheet of paper...

p.s. I just popped this on etsy - while I haven't been writing much, I have been sewing!

Bird Lady

Bird lady

Under a pine in Vondelpark
the Bird Lady has fashioned
an impromptu feed-table,
arrives each morning laden
with bags of sunflower seeds
and kibbled maize and proceeds
to feed the feral Rose-rings
(Psittacula krameri,
40 centimetres,
general plumage green,
yellowish underwing,
in male, rose collar encircling
hindneck, nape suffused
bluish) and Alexandrines
(Psittacula eupatria,
58 centimetres,
a group of pristine males,
occiput and cheeks
suffused with bluish-grey,
black stripe through lower cheek,
pink collar encircling hindneck,
red slash on secondary coverts,
massive vermilion bill,
call - a screeching kee-ak),
which, were it not for her
genial dottiness,
would not survive the severe
calorie-wasting winter,
and we would be undernourished.

Peter Reading

I have been meaning to write a new post since the week before Christmas and New Year, but things were busy and then things were quiet and I didn't want to get back to the computer at all. I wrote some notes by hand and re-read Little House in the Big Woods and did some embroidery and some sewing. But now I have been tempted back to the Twitter and the Blog and would like to share this poem that I found. Last spring I found myself with a few minutes to spare in the British Library - rather than looking at any of the actual books, I went without hesitation to the shop, inside I found many bookish notions and reading souvenirs. On a low shelf I found a book with a pretty cover:

Having decided shortly before that I would like to 'get into poetry,' I made a note of the title and trotted off with a customary postcard. I don't exactly collect postcards, but they are very cheap, and very easy to transport, so I do tend to buy them when I visit places. 

I often feel a bit naughty or lame buying anthologies of poems, as if I'm not well informed enough to know which poets I like (I am worried they are the literary equivalents of 'Now that's what I call Music' ). But the fact is, I am not very well informed and getting an anthology is a thoroughly sensible idea. I am also a fan of Simon Armitage, so I reckoned I was onto a winner. The joy of poetry books (and collections of short stories) is that you can pick bits out like the best bits on the salad bar, and go away feeling satisfied, if not full up. 

The poem above seemed like a good one for January - I hope you like it too!

**In chapbook news** 
I have bought magenta card for the covers and have made some notes. I am going to start a search for the notebook in which I started writing the story a few years back...