Crawl Space

Obsession and Possession

2012-02-08T20:26:00.010Z

I started reading this yesterday and finished it just half an hour ago, in a cold bath (it was hot when I climbed in, but I couldn't stop reading until I'd reached the end). This slim novel is one of the first in a new series published by Hammer (of Hammer Films fame). The Hammer branding is extremely subtle; there's nothing here to recall the glory days of schlock horror. Instead, there is Dunmore's restrained prose, perfectly-pitched and incredibly powerful.

It's the winter of 1952 (the year of Dunmore's birth), and Isabel Carey is newly-arrived in Yorkshire's East Riding, with her husband Philip, a GP. Shivering one night, she discovers an old RAF greatcoat hidden in the cupboard. When she sleeps under the coat for warmth, she dreams of a life that's not her own. Soon, while her husband is out, a knock at her window brings Alec, a young RAF pilot, searching for the woman he loves.

Reviews of The Greatcoat in the popular press have struggled to describe it as 'terrifying' or 'creepily chilling'. As if the Hammer name demands a horror tag. In fact, The Greatcoat is suffused with loneliness and longing, which is a very fine tradition belonging to the best ghost stories. This isn't to say that it doesn't have chilling moments - it does. In particular when Isabel tries to free herself from the insidious power of the greatcoat. But it's more - and better - than that.

The broken seam in time that allows Alec to come to Isabel's world, and lets her into his, is described with heart-breaking delicacy. Both are lost, yearning to find their way home. The wider world, recovering from war, is filled with lost souls; the story is layered with this sense of displacement and discovery. There is clear menace in Dunmore's themes of obsession and possession, but the overriding sense is of tragedy, in a grand classic tradition. Comparisons have been drawn with The Turn of the Screw, but I'd say Dunmore's economy of style is better suited to the genre than Henry James' verbosity.

As I finished the book, I hugged it, knowing I'd found a new contender for my Favourite Book of all time. Dunmore's writing is never less than impressive. Her novels, Talking to the Dead, and Your Blue-Eyed Boy, are two of the best crime novels I've ever read (despite never being labelled as such by her publishers). The Greatcoat is a potent reminder of her power to command language, character and plot. I loved every page.

Read my interview with Helen Dunmore in Fringe magazine.

Finders Keepers

2012-01-22T10:12:00.003Z

Reading books for review is such a useful exercise for a writer, although I know it courts controversy, even accusations of envy or amateur analysis. For what it's worth, then, my review of Belinda Bauer's Finders Keepers is up at Reviewing the Evidence. It's a positive review, but you can learn much from reviewing books that fall short of your expectations, as proved by a number of other reviews on the same site. I was particularly struck by Madeline Marsh's review of The Night Stalker by Chris Carter, which makes the excellent point that if you're writing mindless violence, you'd better have stacks of style and substance at your disposal. And Linda Wilson's review of Footsteps on the Shore by Pauline Rowson, which reminds us that plot gymnastics won't necessarily deliver the goods, but a strong sense of place can.

My next review will be a debut crime novel, Tideline by Penny Hancock. I'm already reading and enjoying it, so watch this space. And please share your favourite reviews, good and bad.

70 years ago today

2012-01-19T08:05:00.004Z

On January 19th 1942, Japanese troops sailed into Sandakan Harbour in Borneo, taking prisoner the men, women and children of 'unfriendly nations'. Among those interned was my mother, aged two and a half, and my grandparents. My mother and grandmother were to remain prisoners until September 11th 1945, when the camp was liberated by Australian troops. My grandfather had died earlier that same year, after being caught helping to bring news of the war into the camp in a bid to boost prisoner morale. I first heard the story of their interment from my grandmother when I was a small child. Adventure stories of survival, of little moments of hope, Christmases in the camp, my mother learning to write with a stick in the sand. It wasn't until years later that I came to know the bigger, more brutal picture of what went on.

One of the prisoners was Agnes Keith, a US writer, whose book Three Came Home gives her account of what happened during those three years. It was later made into a film starring Claudette Colbert, which you watch on YouTube, here. The little girl with plaits at the end of the film, who goes to the Commandant's house in his car? Is an actor playing my mother, Susie.

So many versions of what happened have survived, more than you might expect. Fastidiously factual accounts from the British officers, recording food rations and punishments. Terrifying accounts by British soldiers, many of whom were starved or beaten to death. Hopeful, grateful accounts by civilian internees who survived to return home.

I am still piecing together all the versions of what happened, and would hesitate to say which is true, or truer, than another. I think every version has its place - including the happy adventure stories told to me as a child - perhaps because the Story is bigger than the tellers but at the same time it is their story, their stories.

You can read a non-fiction piece I wrote for Foto8 about the discovery of the Japanese propaganda photo (above), here. I wrote a guest blog about researching family history, here. And I supported a Red Cross campaign last year, where I wrote specifically about what the Red Cross means to me (their parcels kept my mother alive, but also killed a man), here. The latter site seems to be temporarily unavailable, but hopefully it will be back up soon.

I'd love to hear from other bloggers, about your experiences with family history and the stories that are woven from it.

A trio of awesome anthologies

2011-12-13T12:06:00.003Z

I'm very happy to be blogging about not one but three new anthologies of short stories coming in the near future, and especially pleased to be appearing in each one.

The first is Voices, edited by Sarah Dobbs, "A collection of memoir, poetry, prose and life-writing from new and established authors. All work is set in Blackburn or written by those with a strong connection to the town." My flash, After a Long Illness, Quietly at Home, is one of my personal favourites and I'm delighted it was chosen to be part of Voices. You can listen to me reading the flash (and channelling my paternal grandmother's voice) here.

The Monster Book for Girls is being published by Exaggerated Press and carries two of my very short stories, Spirit Level and Don't Give Me That Face. The cover artwork is very cool and the whole concept was inspired by the pre-war annuals which contained wholesome stories for girls. This new anthology does not, but promises to be great fun.

In April 2012, Pangea will be published, being a collection of the best stories from the website, WriteWords. Two of my longer short stories are in this anthology, The Wedding Fair and LoveFM. I'm looking forward to the promotion and launch of Pangea, in Bristol, with readings at Foyle's and elsewhere.

It's great to be in the company of writers I love and admire, such as Andrea Ashworth, Caroline Choille, Joel Willans and Vanessa Gebbie. Here's to a trio of happy publication dates!

The fragile art of writing

2011-11-26T06:41:00.003Z

Of the many reasons I love The Paris Review, their series of interviews with writers comes first. Such as this one with William Trevor: "I think self-confidence is a very dangerous thing for writers. I tend to write in a fragile, edgy, doubtful sort of way, trying things out all the time, never confident that I've got something right," which sums up my afternoon's work perfectly. And this one, with P.D. James: "I write the books out of order, rather as if I were shooting a film, and then put the story together at the end". Or this one, with John Le Carré: "It's a principle of mine to come into the story as late as possible, and to tell it as fast as you can," which has made me think about my current project in a different, refreshing way.

Goody bag of books

2011-11-09T06:58:00.002Z

Back at the end of the summer, when the days were still long and the weather was (almost) balmy, the team in charge of the Harrogate Crime Festival ran a Reader Review competition: write a review of a crime book and upload it to You're Booked, with a prize for the best submission. I entered my review of Luther: the Calling by Neil Cross, a book that terrified me. And last Monday, a particularly dreary day of fog and cold, I received an email: "I am pleased to announce that your review has been selected as the winning entry in our Reader Reviews Competition. Thank you so much for taking the time to write and submit your review. We very much enjoyed reading your submission. Wonderfully written and incredibly perceptive, we thought your review gave the perfect balance of plot summary and personal analysis."

My prize? A goody bag 'jam-packed' with crime books. I call that a result. Thank you, Harrogate team!

The Coward's Tale

2011-11-07T10:54:00.004Z

Here's some good news to brighten your Monday morning: Vanessa Gebbie's first novel is published today by Bloomsbury. The Coward's Tale is already picking up terrific reviews, including one by A.N. Wilson who calls the book a 'gem'. I've been a fan of Vanessa's short stories since I was lucky enough to be invited to the launch of Words from a Glass Bubble, her first collection (Storm Gathering is her second). What's more, Vanessa is truly supportive of other writers and has done much to boost my confidence and keep me striving for better. Congratulations, Vanessa, on The Coward's Tale and so much more. May Ianto find a huge audience, everywhere.

Friction Magazine

2011-10-16T18:12:00.005+01:00

I'm very happy to be in the new issue of Friction, alongside Benjamin Judge, Fatin Abbas and others, with my very short story, Silver Print. Friction Magazine and Journal is described by its team as "the new online space for creative writing and non-fiction published by the Newcastle Centre for Literary Arts and edited by the students on the MA and PhD programmes in creative writing at Newcastle University". Friction publish a selection of stories, poetry, flash fiction and other creative work that won’t easily fit into categories. I'm very happy that they found a place in issue three for Silver Print. Oh and please remember I'm guest reading all next week at Smokelong Quarterly - see previous post for details.

Guest reading at Smokelong Quarterly

2011-09-26T17:13:00.004+01:00

I'm excited to be guest reading at one of my favourite writing venues, Smokelong Quarterly, the week of October 17th. So if you have a story under 1,000 words that you think I'll love, please submit to the magazine following the website guidelines during that week. If you're brand new to the venue, here's the story I had published in Smokelong a while ago. And here's my interview with them. All stories will be read blind, so I won't know whose stories I'm seeing, but you know the sort of thing I love. Dark, funny, moving, character-led, offbeat, horny. Or simply honest.

Yesterday's Man in Stalking Elk

2011-09-23T12:40:00.006+01:00

I'm thrilled that my short story about déjà vu, Yesterday's Man, has been published in the third issue of the excellent Stalking Elk magazine, alongside great cartoons and illustrations, not to mention an interview with comedian Robin Ince. The issue is themed, and the content is humourous. But you got that, from the cover, of course.

Post Mortem #1

2011-09-19T15:41:00.003+01:00

The Night Season by Chelsea Cain

I thought it would be fun (and informative) to start a series that deconstructs books I’ve enjoyed to get at what makes them so good. This is the fourth crime novel from Chelsea Cain. I have to confess I found her earlier books a bit richly camp for my taste. Her female serial killer, Gretchen Lowell, is a classic creation. January Jones (of Mad Men fame) has optioned the rights to play Gretchen onscreen, thereby ensuring her longevity. But I felt a strong impulse to laugh while reading the passages between Gretchen and the books’ hero, Archie, victim of her peculiar brand of perversion. The Night Season is different, in that Gretchen’s taken a backseat to a new story, led by Archie and Cain’s most successful creation, journalist Susan Ward. Archie and Susan make a great team, here against a backdrop of rising floodwaters and deadly toxins wielded by an ingenious psychopath. The book is dark, funny, stylish and seamless. A triumph, in other words. And worthy of analysis, to see what makes it tick so smoothly. Of course, much comes down to personal preference, but I’ve singled out some aspects which seem applicable across the genre.

1. Strong sense of place (which also plays perfectly to the title: steamy streets, falling rain and rising floods, permanent dusk).
2. Clever use of humour, which binds the reader to the author effortlessly and often.
3. Credible characters who spark off one another, coupled with the author’s skill in knowing when to bring the characters together and when to isolate them.
4. Layered tension and rising stakes. The layers come from Cain’s skill at creating intimate threats within a larger picture (in this case, the rising wall of floodwater). And synchronising the threat levels so that we get a real sense of rhythm in the story (see also 6 below).
5. Knowledge that’s imparted to the reader but kept from the main characters, so we know what’s coming even when they don’t. (Which is not to say she gives away the ending, because she doesn’t.)
6. Seamless transference of tension/threat – like a baton being passed between characters and scenes – as one situation is resolved, another takes its place. An incremental tightening of this pattern as the book approaches its first, second and third acts.
7. Tight management of multiple viewpoints to share knowledge between characters, keeping some in the dark at key moments.
8. Avoidance of intrusive flashbacks, but timely reminders of the hero’s fault-lines, at intervals when our fears for him are heightened.
9. Great, visual settings. A derelict fairground. A flooded aquarium.
10. Early seeding of ideas that come to fruition in the climatic scenes, without the need for lengthy explanations during action sequences.

That’s my starter for ten. If anyone else has read and enjoyed The Night Season, please pitch in. Likewise, if you hated it, let me know why it didn’t work for you.

Quick round-up

2011-09-19T12:01:00.001+01:00

My review of The Track of Sand by Andrea Camilleri is up at Reviewing the Evidence today. This was my first encounter with Inspector Montalbano, and I had mixed feeling about it. Nice descriptions of grub, though.

In other news, I have a quick flash with a fairytale theme over at Every Day Fiction today: The Cottage in the Woods may tickle your funny-bone, or so I hope.

And I'm making my debut in Stalking Elk magazine, issue three, with my short story, Yesterday's Man. The editor tells me there's a smashing illustration accompanying the story, so I can't wait to get my print copies.

Voices - new anthology

2011-09-05T10:19:00.006+01:00

Lancashire Writing Hub is launching its Voices anthology at the Continental in Preston on September 15th. Kicking off at 8pm, the evening promises to be a blast. Stories by Andrea Ashworth, Martin McAreavey, Gaye Gerrard, Jennifer Palmer, John Hindle, Alan Taylor, Ismail Karolia & me. You can listen to audio recordings, including me reading my flash, After a Long Illness, Quietly at Home, here.

Thirteen Hours

2011-09-03T08:53:00.011+01:00

I was lucky enough to meet South African crime writer, Deon Meyer, at CrimeFest earlier this year. I asked if he thought crime fiction was by its nature subversive and he said yes, explaining how no one was able to write let alone publish crime under apartheid: 'How could you have a hero policeman under apartheid?'

Meyer also writes short stories and told me a collection should be available in the UK later this year. In the meantime, his Benny Griessel novels are a great way to discover Meyer's writing talent. My review of Thirteen Hours is up at Reviewing the Evidence today. Trackers is his next one.

Plucky young backpacker Rachel Anderson is on the run, from the gang of men who cut her best friend’s throat. In another part of Cape Town, Alexa Barnard wakes from a drunken stupor to find her cheating husband Adam’s been shot dead and she’s the chief suspect. Until Inspector Benny Griessel arrives on the scene; Benny is a recovering alcoholic whose spontaneous sympathy for Alexa nearly results in her death by suicide. As she recovers in hospital, the police begin investigating her husband’s murder and that of Rachel’s best friend. Seemingly unrelated, the paths of the two crimes do cross. It’s up to Benny Griessel to find out how, and why.

Read the rest of my review here.

Shorts and flashes

2011-08-21T13:17:00.003+01:00

I've been reading and reviewing a lot of crime novels lately, as my previous blog post suggests. But not just novels. Short stories, too. My review of The Mammoth Book of Best British Crime is just up at Reviewing the Evidence:

Of the many reasons to love short stories, the one that packs the best punch is surprise. A novel might serve up two, or at best three, genuine gobsmacking surprises over four hundred pages. A good short story will deliver at least one, sometimes two. Over a collection like this, that's a minimum of forty surprises.

Find out which story was my favourite, and which was totally bonkers by popping across to read.

In writing news, my very short flash, Spring, is up at new venue The Night Light. It's a terrific site with lovely editors. Do send them your work if you think it's a good fit.

Reviewing the evidence

2011-08-18T14:25:00.003+01:00

I love reviewing books. To start with, you get free books. How cool is that? Then you get to spend more time reading, which is great. But best of all you learn about your craft, what works and what doesn't, how to get better. All for free.

My two latest reviews are Luther: The Calling by Neil Cross, and Plugged by Eoin Colfer. I loved both books, for very different reasons. Both are written in the present tense, which doesn't often work but does here, in both cases. That's about the only similarity between the two books. Other than I loved them both.

My Luther review is up at Eurocrime. Plugged is over at Reviewing the Evidence. What have you read or reviewed recently, and what did it teach you about what makes a great story/book?

Binocular Vision

2011-07-29T17:42:00.004+01:00

I fell in love with this short story collection by American author, Edith Pearlman. The new issue of The Short Review carries both an interview with the author and my review, described by Edith as 'Sensitive and appreciative - one of the best I've received'. The following is an extract from one of my favourite stories in the collection:

They were drinking gin out of teacups. Mrs. Hasken was placid. Aunt Laurette grinned under her globe of orange hair. Phoebe was currying her skirt with Nancy's comb. They were not aristocracy after all – only stand-ins.

Tip: you can read one of the stories free online by following the link at the end of my review.

Back and Beyond, ShortStoryVille, No Short Cuts

2011-07-26T10:28:00.004+01:00

Maybe it's the season, or the determination of creative cheer-leaders, but there are so many wonderful opportunities right now to celebrate writing, and especially short stories. I was lucky enough to be part of ShortStoryVille here in Bristol, which was terrific fun with panel sessions and readings, culminating in the prize giving ceremony. Huge congratulations to Emily Bullock on winning first prize with her story, My Girl. A great write-up of the day can be found over at Vanessa Gebbie's blog.

Meanwhile, anyone who hasn't already signed the petition to save short stories on Radio 4 can do so via the link here. And follow the success of the campaign over on Twitter, where it's spearheaded by Susie Maguire aka @wrathofgod. Over 5,000 signatures and rising all the time!

Back and Beyond is a new publication that celebrates and promotes the arts, culture and heritage in Lancaster, Morecambe and beyond. It combines fiction and non-fiction writing with articles, profiles of local artists and details of projects and organisations.

The debut edition has stunning artwork, poetry, graphics, commentary and fiction. I'm delighted to be a part of it, with my tiny flash piece, Albumen. The magazine can be downloaded free of charge as a pdf and is beautiful new evidence of how creativity thrives and flourishes.

The Mauve Throw

2011-07-01T13:45:00.003+01:00

Very excited today, as my first ebook has been published! It's a short story, The Mauve Throw, which was commended in the Tom-Gallon Trust Award 2011. And it's published on the coolest of cool sites, Shortfire Press. Mariella Frostrup gave Shortfire not one but two plugs on R4's Open Book on Thursday, deservedly so. It's a clean, clear, beautifully understated website. With stories, interviews and a blog. I was guest blogger yesterday, talking about the Authors' Awards. Happily, the Society of Authors liked my guest blog so much they asked permission to link to it from their website. So it's all come together rather splendidly. Better still if one or two readers decide to buy The Mauve Throw, which is available for the princely sum of 99pence, for Kindle, iPhone or as a pdf download. I'm donating all royalties to Cancer Research, and Shortfire Press have very kindly offered to donate their profits on the story to the same cause,so please do consider buying the story. Thank you

Breakfast at Southfork

2011-06-26T09:17:00.012+01:00

Just lately I was selecting crime books to review for Reviewing the Evidence, when I heard Linda Wilson, the site’s UK editor, use the phrase ‘Breakfast at Southfork’. She was describing that part at the end of so many books, where the characters discuss the plot. Fans of the TV show, Dallas, may recall that breakfast was the time of day when the Ewings would gather to talk about what was happening in their lives, which served as a handy plot update for viewers. Is a Breakfast at Southfork moment inevitable, or even necessary, in crime novels? I asked Linda along to Crawl Space to discuss the phenomenon.

SH: Hi Linda. I love the phrase ‘Breakfast at Southfork’, and have been using it all over the place since you drew my attention to it. When did you first hear it, and what’s your understanding of its meaning in relation to crime writing?

LW: I can’t remember when I first came across the phrase. I think it stems from a TV reviewer’s comment many years ago, when he or she remarked on the fact that Southfork, the Ewings’ massive ranch, only seemed to have one telephone at the foot of the stairs. The same reviewer observed, quite accurately, that breakfast was the time when all the characters sat down and discussed the plot, otherwise known as their latest ‘pra’l’m’, which is what you get if you try to render the word ‘problem’ in a Texan drawl. And anyone who watched the show will know that the Ewings had a lot of ‘pra’l’ms’!

When I started reading a lot of crime fiction, I was soon struck by how frequently authors use similar plot devices to either remind the reader what has been happening or – even more commonly – to make sure that all the elements of the plot are adequately explained in the closing stages of the book.

SH: Can you give some examples of awkward Breakfast at Southfork moments in crime novels?

LW: To be honest, I think all moments like that are awkward to some degree, and inevitably detract from otherwise well-told stories. I recently read Christopher Fowler’s Bryant and May off the Rails and, although this was almost certainly the wrong book to choose for entry to this long-running series, I did quite enjoy it. Unfortunately, however, even the explanations at the end didn’t leave me any the wiser about the villain’s motivations. So I suppose the moral of the story here is that if you’re going to use a Breakfast moment, do at least make sure it serves its intended purpose and that the reader ends up suitably enlightened rather than still scratching their heads wondering what’s happened.

A better instance of this, but one that still struck me as artificial was in S.J. Bolton’s excellent book Blood Harvest, which I thoroughly enjoyed, but even so, there was an awkward Breakfast moment towards the end that almost managed to shatter the carefully created tension.

SH: Any good examples, where it works as a plot device? Or should a writer always look for better ways to explain what’s going on?

LW: I suspect I’m more tolerant of it as a plot device in police procedurals where a couple of the investigating officers have a chat and bring each other up to speed with developments on the case. Quintin Jardine’s Bob Skinner books are examples where a ‘show and tell’ can work reasonably well, but I do still think that the technique is over-used.

Jeffrey Deaver tries to get over the problems in his Lincoln Rhyme series by sharing ‘evidence boards’ with the readers. I will admit to skipping over these most of the time, but I can certainly see their value. At least they give you the option of trying to use the evidence to figure out what is happening, or simply do what I tend to do and go with the flow of the story without thinking too closely about the details.

SH: I’m enjoying Jonathan Kellerman’s Mystery at the moment. Seems to me he serves up Breakfast moments as red herrings in nearly all his books. His heroes, Alex and Milo, are always discussing the plot, usually while eating something (Milo’s got a healthy appetite). But the difference here is that they’re speculating rather than explaining. The device works really well at blind-siding the reader, so we think we know what’s happened only to find out Alex and Milo’s speculation was wrong. I love the layered feel this gives Kellerman’s books. But maybe it takes a master plotter to turn the Breakfast moment on its head?

LW: Indeed. And I also suspect that any regular reader of a series that uses techniques of that sort on a regular basis will soon start to suspect that (sticking with the food theme) they’re being fed a red herring.

SH: When we last met, you mentioned that Hanging Hill by Mo Hayder skipped Breakfast at Southfork entirely. Can you explain how this worked (without giving away the plot)?

LW: I think essentially what she did was pull off a perfect example of ‘show’ not ‘tell’. The last few chapters proceeded at an excellent pace and were very much seen through the eyes of the main characters as everything they’d believed was peeled back, layer by layer, amidst some very compelling scenes. These scenes were uncluttered by explanation, but remained wholly understandable. I felt I was very much in the action with the characters, experiencing the plot developments along with them.

SH: Breakfast at Southfork does seem to be a very popular device in crime novels, from Poirot’s explanations in the library through to contemporary crime. Why do you think that is?

LW: I think, in some cases, it provides an easy way for the author to draw together all their threads and clues that the reader may have missed. In others, it enables them to introduce new material (which I always think is cheating, but that’s another story!) in a way that keeps back ‘spoilers’ until the closing stages. Sadly, it can also be an example of bad or lazy writing.

SH: How do you think most readers feel about Breakfast moments?

LW: I suspect a lot of the time readers are so used to moments like this that they simply suspend disbelief and go with the flow. But I’m also sure that I can’t be the only person in the world who finds moments like this awkward and intrusive. I’m often left wanting to conduct a survey of detectives who investigate murder cases to find out how often the murderer really does sit down for a cosy chat and explain what they did and why they did it. My gut feeling is that it happens far more often in literature than it ever has done in real life.

I’ve certainly become a much harsher critic of the technique since I started regularly reading books for review, which is why I almost let out a whoop of joy when I finished Hanging Hill. It was so refreshing not to have to endure any clumsy explanations.

SH: Makes me think of all those moments in James Bond films where the villain stops to taunt Bond with the awful truth of what he’s done, before conveniently leaving to allow James to affect his daring escape.

LW: Yes, in the same way that the villain so often hesitates before pulling the trigger when ‘our hero’, whoever that may be, is at their mercy, and then launches into a long recitation as to why they did what they did, while the audience groans and yells, “Pull the trigger, you idiot!” It’s the artificiality of it all that gets on my nerves.

SH: Any tips for writers on how to skip Breakfast without starving the reader of plot expo?

LW: Hmm, that’s definitely a tricky one! I think I’d always start with the premise that Breakfast moments should be kept to a bare minimum. Plot developments and character’s actions should be as self-explanatory as possible. Is it really necessary to do an info dump at the end, or could some of the explanation be brought out earlier?

An author should have enough self-awareness to know what they’re actually doing when they embark on a scene like this. And to stop and think whether it could be handled differently. Does the conversation at least sound natural? Is it in character for the villain to suddenly come over all loquacious? Look at what you’ve written from the perspective of a reader or, better still, get someone else to look at it for you. No matter how well you pull it off, a Breakfast moment will still be in danger of standing out like a sore thumb.

SH: At the Hay Festival, Mark Billingham said that US publishers request a Breakfast Moment page at the end of his books, to explain what happened. So maybe it's not always in the hands of the author.

Thank you, Linda. I really enjoyed that. Finally, if we were eating Breakfast at Southfork rather than talking about it, what would you order? I’d be tempted by pancakes, I think.

Linda: I’d always go for the full English any time! If I could have that in Dallas it would definitely be a bonus.

--
I was talking with Linda Wilson, UK Editor, Reviewing the Evidence

The Authors' Awards 2011

2011-06-15T10:36:00.003+01:00

Yesterday afternoon I was sitting outside a French wine bar in Shepherds Market with the redoubtable Anna Britten, sipping HUGE glasses of white wine (we asked for spritzers but they decided we needed something more) and waiting to pop along to the Cavalry and Guards' Club on Piccadilly, to celebrate the Society of Authors' awards for 2011. As soon as we arrived, I was whisked off to have my picture taken (such a nice photographer, told me my hair 'was a bit funny at the front' and to 'look a bit happier' before clicking away) and returned to Anna's side, as dazed as she was to see how many amazing stars were in the room with us. Lady Antonia Fraser, Wendy Cope, Shirley Hughes, Simon Brett, Lindsey Davis, Joanna Trollope... But the lovely organisers still took the trouble to make me feel special. The nicest part of the evening was being told: 'We love to celebrate writers!'

So I guess I should say why I was in such esteemed company. My short story, The Mauve Throw, received an Honourable Mention in the Tom-Gallon Trust Award, a short story competition for 'traditional rather than experimental stories'. The winning story was by Emma Timpany. Mine was 'Also admired and enjoyed', as the judges put it. Sadly I didn't get to meet the judges, Jane Gardam and Jacob Ross, on the night. But I thank them for their time and for choosing my story alongside the ones by Emma, Miriam Burke and Gregory Heath. Congratulations, all!

My lovely editor, Stephanie, was also there, for moral support. We got the chance to chat about the edits I'm working on for the novel, which was great. And Anna Britten was the perfect guest, keeping me company on the train journeys and being just as star-struck as I was. Thanks, Anna!

ShortStoryVille.. on air

2011-06-12T15:27:00.008+01:00

I enjoyed talking short stories on BBC Bristol's Sunday Show this morning, with Joe Melia, judge and organiser of the Bristol Short Story Prize, and the brains behind ShortStoryVille, an exciting event being held at Bristol's Arnolfini Arts Centre on Saturday 16 July. If you'd to hear Joe and me talking about what's so great about short stories, you can listen again here. We come in around 45 mins into the show, just after the travel news. It was a wet walk to the BBC's studio, but worth it to chat about Hemingway, and breaking the rules of short story writing, and flash fiction too.

I pledged to read from my new short story, Udambara in Barrow-in-Furness, at the July event. I can't begin to cover the ways in which it's wonderful to live in a city where short stories are celebrated in so many different and cool ways.

In other news, my tweeting of a daft remark by an actor on Radio 4's Loose Ends 'went viral' as they say, with many people pitching in to agree what tosh it was to say "Women don't read crime fiction". I'll be blogging about this at more length soon. Suffice to say, according to my bookshelves, I am a man.

Short Story Month

2011-06-01T08:17:00.006+01:00

I'm thrilled that two of my stories have been chosen by readers as part of the 102 Story Links in Honour of Short Story Month, in the company of such great writers as Vanessa Gebbie, Amy Hempel, Ethel Rohan, Tania Hershman, Gay Degani, and Anton Chekov (no less). Many many thanks to the crew at Flash Fiction Chronicles for compiling the list, providing the links and posting it for short story lovers everywhere.

Tweet a Crime

2011-05-24T16:17:00.010+01:00

I love Twitter. You meet new friends, you share ideas, you support each other through ups and downs. And, if you're lucky, you win great stuff. Last weekend I went to CrimeFest thanks to the generosity of Rhian Davies, who tweeted a spare ticket from a pair she'd won. And next Friday, I'm going to the Hay Festival, on a golden ticket, thanks to winning Headline's #TweetaCrime contest. The aim was to tweet a famous crime book or movie in under 140 characters. Mark Billingham (Sleepyhead) and Eoin Colfer (Artemis Fowl) did the judging, and will read my winning tweet live at their Hay session on Friday 3 June.

Better still, the other winning tweeter, Rin Simpson, lives in Bristol, is a debut crime writer, and will travel with me to the Festival! I'm taking my ten year old along too, with a pal, so they can sample the brilliance that is Andy (Mr Gum) Stanton and other family-friendly fun on the day. Everyone's a winner!

On the beat

2011-05-18T19:40:00.008+01:00

My social diary, until recently, was so empty that when I opened it at random, tumbleweed rolled out. However, the fates have combined to present me with several exciting opportunities to leave my desk and venture out in the wide world. It all kicks off tomorrow, when I head off to CrimeFest in Bristol, mixing with the creme de la crime of writers including Peter James, Deon Meyer, Belinda Bauer and Natasha Cooper. And I get to spend time with my fantastic editor, too. After which, I will be heading up North. I'm thrilled to be on the shortlist for the Flash Mob writing competition, reading my story, Hoochy Coochy Man and the Wagon of Rhymes, at the Dulcimer in Chorlton on 26 May. The event is being broadcast live on ChorltonFM and, most excitingly, I will finally get to meet the marvellous Nik Perring. In June, I'll be up to London for what promises to be a absolutely tremendous evening (more about this later). In July, I'm reading at ShortStoryVille, back in Bristol. If you're able to come to any of these events, please drop me a line as I'd love to meet you.

ShortStoryVille

2011-05-16T18:15:00.003+01:00

I'm very excited to be part of the official line-up for ShortStoryVille at Bristol's Arnolfini on 16 July. Panel discussions with Sarah Salway, and with Tania Hershman will be highlights of the afternoon. I'll be reading at the end of the day, in the section titled 'Choice Cuts'. The Bristol Short Story Prize crew are leading the way in new and innovative ways of enthusing readers about short stories, involving local schools and artists to make the event visually exciting and truly interactive. I can't wait!

Telling stories

2011-05-05T16:27:00.006+01:00

I'm reading a lot of non-fiction just at the moment, partly as research for the new novel. At this early stage, when I'm seeking ideas to engage with, research takes the form of standing before the relevant library shelves and plucking at random those titles that catch my eye. I thought I'd blog about a couple of my recent choices, because they're great examples of how two different writers use different skills to bring very different stories to life.

The first is Sally Brampton's Shoot the Damn Dog: a Memoir of Depression, in which the former editor of Elle magazine recounts her experience with severe depression and its treatment. Brampton's style has been described as both 'candid' and 'brutal'. She pulls no punches in telling us how she descended into, and climbed out of, a subterranean depression. It's not an easy book to read; I cried every couple of pages, usually when she grazed the nerve of my own experience with depression, or spoke of her fears and hopes as a mother. One chapter, describing her relationship with her father, was uncanny. I became convinced while reading it that my own father, who died of Motor Neurone Disease, must have had undiagnosed Asperger's for most of his adult life. Brampton has said that she wanted to short-circuit the stigma that surrounds most discussions of mental illness. She did more than that, in my opinion. She took us straight to the heart of her story, so close it hurt to read the words, like touching a raw wound. When she diverted the story to talk impersonally about medical history, for example, it was a relief, a chance to regroup. Why read something that is so upsetting? Because I felt a deep connection to the text. And because I don't believe that the best writing should be easy on the reader. It should enlarge our experience of the world. This book does that.

The Eye: a Natural History by Simon Ings presents a very different challenge. Its author is a science writer, and science has never been my strong point. I felt a daunting distance from this subject matter, as if I was squinting at a night sky in the hope of observing patterns. But Ings is a smart guy; he's a storyteller. He slips in his science under the guise of adventure, intrigue, conflict and action. Did you know that each of us began life as a cyclops? Or that we learn to see not with our eyes but with our hands? I'd thought this book was going to be a struggle, worthwhile but work. In fact it's fun. Ings takes considerable care to tell us a series of stories which bring us as close to his subject matter as Brampton's painful first-person account brings us to hers. I'm going to re-read this slowly, with my notebook at hand. But first I'm going to zip through it, enjoying the ride.

It's alive! Tapping the rich vein of horror

2011-04-14T10:30:00.012+01:00

Before you head behind the sofa, let me say this isn’t a blog about horror fiction. I’m not the best exponent of that, as I don't read or write much in the genre. Instead, I’m going to blog about horror as a flavour, a spice to add to the mix of any fiction you may be writing or contemplating writing.

Adding a dash of horror is a worthy tradition in literature; the Brothers Grimm were writing about cannibalism a century before Thomas Harris gave us Hannibal Lector, and it’s hard to beat the Room 101 rats in Orwell’s 1984 for nail-biting nightmare potential. Crime writers have known this trick for decades: how to season their stories with a dash of darkness. Arthur Conan Doyle served it up in spades: from The Hound of the Baskervilles to The Creeping Man.

Contemporary crime writers use horror to great effect. Mo Hayder’s Tokaloshe in Ritual and its sequel, Skin, is a great example of how a skilled writer can weave a disturbing sense of the supernatural into hard-hitting crime stories.

Fred Vargas has given us immortal ghosts, werewolves, plague rats and vampires. Enough supernatural horror to satisfy any aficionado, but Vargas does a very neat line in explaining everything in rational terms in the end.

Horror tends to work best when it’s used sparingly, to make a moment visceral, bring it off the page. Try to sustain this sort of shock value and you run the risk of numbing your reader’s responses. It’s the way we’re made. Our brains filter out familiar scents to keep us alert for the smell of danger. A surfeit of horror tends to force the reader to look away or worse, to laugh in order to relieve the tension.

The best writers know this and will provide a little light relief along the way so that you laugh in the intended places (usually right before they make you jump a foot in the air). The very best exponent of this is not a writer but a film director: George A. Romero. Zombies can be funny, but watch out for your feet and elbows.

It’s the same rule that applies with pacing, or erotica for that matter. A glimpse of the monster under the bed (or in it) is more effective that a lingering twelve page forensic examination. Plant a seed, refer to it often enough to make sure it doesn’t die in the reader’s mind, prepare them just enough for the moment when it will bear fruit. Then – let them have it.

It doesn’t need to be raw gore, either. In fact some of the best horror only hints at what lies beneath, letting the reader’s imagination do the rest.

There’s a little horror lurking in everyone’s imagination and the reader’s imagination is among the most powerful tools a writer has – learn how to engage that (and to manipulate it) and you’ll be onto a winning formula.

Keep the Mythic Distance

2011-04-07T11:03:00.006+01:00

The new issue of The Short Review is just out, full of treats for short story lovers. My review of Warren Bull's Murder Manhattan Style is there, as well as an interview with Warren. Other reviews include The Biting Point by Catherine Smith, and There Is No Other by Jonathan Papernick, reviewed by Tania Hershman.

Old Enemies

2011-04-06T19:13:00.008+01:00

Dobbs serves up deft, evocative descriptions of international locations, from Christmas in London to Trieste via Switzerland and Zimbabwe. And a great cast of characters, including pompous, fearful politicians, a suave American presidential advisor and (best of all, for my money) a wily old Irishman with a fine line in banter and bitterness.

I was lucky enough to win a copy of this new thriller by Michael Dobbs, published by Simon and Schuster earlier this year. I know Dobbs best for his House of Cards triology, so brilliantly adapted for television with the magnificent Iain Richardson in the lead role. Old Enemies is part of a different series by Dobbs, featuring soldier-turned-politician, Harry Jones. With Dobbs' signature wry angle on politics and masterful plot twists, it makes an enjoyable read. My full review was published by Euro Crime, and is also up at the Harrogate Crime Festival website.

Back to my roots

2011-04-04T11:49:00.004+01:00

First, some terrific news from Writers for the Red Cross, who raised over $30,500 in disaster relief. I was proud to play a small part in this success, as it was the Red Cross parcels of medicine and food that kept my mother and grandmother alive to see the liberation of the Batu Lintang prison camp by Australian troops on September 11, 1945. By some strange karma, most of my writing news at the moment has roots in my family history. My links to the North-West of England, specifically Cheshire and Lancashire, prompted me to submit stories to a new anthology and an established international Flash magazine. The latter, published out of the University of Chester, carries my flash, 'Bait for the Big White', in its April edition. And a very short flash of mine has just been accepted for Back & Beyond, the flagship publication for Made in Lancaster. Beyond this, I've had two flashes accepted for the Monster Book for Girls, another new anthology. And I'm in awe of the beauty of .Cent Magazine, which has illustrated 'My Camel Spits in the Sand' for their Strange Paradises section. The guest editor is Minnie Weisz, whose wonderful photography can be sampled here.

Published by Penguin

2011-04-01T12:46:00.005+01:00

Well, after a manner of speaking. My interview with Helen Dunmore, which appeared in Fringe Magazine recently, has been republished on Penguin's website at the request of their Publicity Director. Helen is the site's Author of the Month, and she liked my interview enough to send it on to her publisher, who decided Penguin's readers would like it too. So here it is, in situ, for the whole of April. Along with Helen's recommended reading, reviews of her latest books and reader commentary.

Inspirational

2011-03-25T12:44:00.005Z

In the last two weeks, I've twice celebrated the power of inspirational writing. First, I dropped a line to the manager of Underfall Yard in Bristol, to thank them for the impetus behind my short story, A Shanty for Sawdust and Cotton, which won the Sense Creative Award 2010. I'd just heard that the boat I saw being built at the yard, the boat that stars in my story, had been launched. She goes by the name, Edith Gray. The yard manager said how good it was to know that their work inspired people, and to tell me that Edith Gray is named after his aunt, in her 90s, who is going blind. My story is about a deafblind boy. Blindness is also a theme in my novel. How strange that things worked out the way they did, and how apt.

Not so long ago, I was lucky enough to spend a morning in a favourite coffee shop in Bristol, interviewing novelist and short story author, Helen Dunmore. Part of this interview is now up at Fringe magazine, where Helen talks about her latest novel, The Betrayal, about historical fiction vs faction, and the need for vigilance in our dealings with the state. Helen's writing has long inspired me, and it was such a thrill to be able to ask her about her books and stories.

Writers for the Red Cross

2011-03-22T13:03:00.005Z

March is Red Cross Month, and I was very happy to be asked to participate in Writers for the Red Cross, to raise funds and awareness for aid initiatives around the world. It's particularly poignant and apt that I was able to participate in help for Japan at this terrible time, given my family history which was the impetus for this blog post, What the Red Cross means to me. Please check out the rest of the site for details of auctions, events and fund-raising projects to support the important work of the Red Cross.

Four times I didn't get an agent & one time I did

2011-03-10T16:24:00.018Z

I promised I'd blog about the road between here, and here, answering specific questions along the way such as Q. How did I choose which agents to approach? Q. What was my approach pattern? Q. How long did it take the agent to get in touch after I submitted the novel? Q. Any magic tips? So, here goes.

First Time I Didn't Get an Agent: It's getting close to Christmas 2006. I've just finished a crime novel. It's my first attempt at the genre. Full of the novice's confidence (I don't know any better, yet), I decide to pitch to the biggest crime agent in the UK. I follow the submission guidelines to the letter, send the first three chapters by email, and pretty quickly get an email back, from the agency's editor. The action of the story doesn't start quickly enough, I'm told. Thanks, but no thanks. That novice's confidence hasn't quite left my system, so I pick up the phone and call the editor, and we chat and I persuade her to give the full manuscript a go.

Lesson #1: Don't always take No for an answer. If I'd put a red line through this agency at this stage, and moved on to my second choice, I might still be looking for an agent today. However, this goes hand in glove with:

Lesson #2: The agent is always right. She always has a point. You may not agree with it. But you ignore it at your peril. Because here's what happened next:

I didn't get an agent. The editor stood by her first impression, and she was right to do so. I was given an A4 page of invaluable feedback, and was asked to send my next book to them.

My next book? I was wiped out from writing this one. Could I really write a second? How long would it take? It took twelve months.

Second Time I Didn't Get an Agent: It's Christmas 2007, and I'm ready to send my second novel in search of an agent. This time I decide to share my eggs between two baskets, and add a second agent to my hit list, someone recommended by a friend. I follow the guidelines, email the opening section, and quickly get two requests for a full ms. This time, I think, I've cracked it. I don't hear back from either agent for some weeks. Then an email from my first choice: She likes what she's seen so far, can she have a little more time to finish it? Of course. I'll wait. That confidence is creeping back up.

Lesson #3: Never wish too much for something. Try to put it from your mind. You should be thinking about the next writing project, in any case, not indulging in fantasies about this one.

The verdict from the first agent? Not this novel. Maybe the next one. I'm still processing this when I get a call from the second agent. She likes a lot of what I've done, but I've over-complicated the plot, pursued too many tangents, not tied down the core adequately. Could I simplify things, rewrite, tighten, sharpen? And send it to another reader at the agency, for a fresh pair of eyes? Of course I can.

Lesson #4: The agent is always right. Oh, wait, that was Lesson #2. Well, it's an important lesson, so maybe it needs learning twice. Because this is what happened next:

I didn't get an agent. The other reader still found it too complicated, not linear enough. Maybe the next book?

At this point, I felt like Alfred Molina in Prick up Your Ears. You can find out what I mean, here, which also includes an autopsy from this latest agent rejection.

Still reading? Then it's time for:

Third Time I Didn't Get an Agent: February 2009. I've done it again. Written something new. Subbed the front end, received a full ms request, tried to keep my hopes under lock and key. One thing I didn't appreciate fully at the time, but for which I am boundlessly thankful now, was that I had a dialogue going with the biggest crime agent in the UK. Her team (the best in the business) had read the full ms of every crime novel I'd written. Her editor (about whom Val McDermid recently said, '(Her) instinct for story is second to none') was helping me to get better at what I wanted to do. None of this would've happened if I'd struck this agency off my hit list because of that first, or any subsequent, rejection.

Lesson #5: If you're lucky enough to catch the eye of an ace agent, don't shoot yourself in the foot by thinking rejection now means rejection always. If an agent is taking the time to tell you, at length and repeatedly, what is wrong (and right) with your work, then use that. It's gold dust. You can make beautiful things from gold dust.

Where was I? Oh, yes. What happened next.

Fourth Time I Didn't Get an Agent: It's another No. It's two pages of detailed A4 reasons why it's a No. It's an offer to read whatever I do next. Not now, but next.

Lesson #6: The agent is always right. Oh, and being bloodyminded goes with the territory. Ultimately, only one person can ever say No to your writing, and that's you. If you're prepared to keep trying, to keep writing, to make friends with failure and get better at what you want to do - it will happen. Because here's what happened next:

In March 2010, I started writing something new. I wrote every day for five months, often as much as 4,000 words a day. I didn't stop. And at least once a week, every week, I referred to the three letters I'd had from the agent, telling me what I needed to do more, or better. Apart from this, I put thoughts of agents and publishers out of my mind.

Lesson #7: Writers write. The rest of it comes later.

In November 2010, I emailed the agent and asked if I could send her something new. She said Yes, please, of course. I sent her the first section, and her reader requested a full ms. Within a week, I received an email from the agent's editor (whose instinct for story is second to none) telling me that the reader's report was very encouraging and asking for an exclusive until the agent and editor were finished reading it.

Lesson #8: There's an etiquette to agent submissions. It might differ between agencies, but learn the rules and follow them. It's only polite, and professional.

It got to the end of the week during which I knew the editor had been reading the ms. On Thursday afternoon I began telling myself it was a No. Too much wishing, remember? And then:

First Time I Got an Agent: At 6pm on Friday, the editor emailed. I'd done a great job with the ms, she said. It was controlled, surprising, compelling, dark and clever. Could I come for a meeting next week? Of course I could. At the meeting, I was offered representation, and asked to do something. Can you guess what? I was asked to rewrite the novel. Well, in parts. And of course I did just that. Have just finished with the rewrite, in fact. It will go back to the agent in the next week. After that, well, watch this space.

In conclusion? It only takes one agent, one time. But it might take four books. Still, you're a writer. You want to write a hundred books. Four is nothing. Right?

Voices, writing contests and thresholds

2011-03-07T11:18:00.003Z

With thanks to Sarah Jane Dobbs, who has posted a great interview with Joe Melia of the Bristol Short Story Prize over at Thresholds. The second part of the blog is my thoughts on how to write stories for contests. There's also an audio recording of me reading my flash, After a Long Illness, Quietly at Home, which will be published and illustrated in new anthology, Voices, later this year. (I borrowed my NW accent from my paternal grandmother.) So, for tips on entering and winning writing contests, check out the blog, which includes some exciting news from the Bristol Prize people.

Food for thought

2011-02-27T17:46:00.008Z

Here's a thought-provoking blog post from the abundantly talented Vanessa Gebbie, who asks whether a two book deal is always a good thing. Vanessa, whose novel The Coward's Tale will be published by Bloomsbury in November, links to some great observations by agents and writers. Do take time to go and read the post and the debate arising from it. As Vanessa says, it's intended to make writers really think about their processes, what we're comfortable commiting to, and what we want and hope to achieve from our writing.

Right here

2011-02-15T07:44:00.007Z

I'm going through a wishing phase: I wish I was in Paris; I wish I had a shed to write in; I wish the weather would improve. But this morning I made myself remember: three months ago (and for five years before that) I was wishing I was exactly where I am now. Making changes to a novel that had secured me a leading literary agent. This has been my wish for so long, I'm still pinching myself that it's real. And, yes, I've swapped one hurdle for the next; I'm not resting on my laurels here. But for all I'd like Paris, and a shed, and sunshine, I have the thing I've wished for hardest and longest.

So, I'm going to put together a blog post about how I got here. Five Times I Didn't Get an Agent, and One Time I Did. Or something like that. I'm going to try and extract the best lessons I learnt on the path from wishing to having. To which end, please let me know what you'd like to hear about. Maybe my approach pattern to agents? Maybe my writing process? How I took the good advice along the way and used it to get better? The times I nearly gave up, and the reasons I didn't? How it felt when everyone around me seemed to be moving forward and I was getting nowhere?

Anything at all that you're curious about, please drop me a line. I want this blog post to be of use and value to others. And to be entertaining, of course. It wasn't all blood, sweat and tears. Often I smiled at my own obstinacy, or arrogance. I learnt to take myself and my endeavours with a huge pinch of salt. Maybe that's part of the winning formula? Other writers please chip in!

An Illuminated Land

2011-02-13T12:08:00.004Z

Artist Colin Halliday has a new exhibition opening at GXgallery in London, 5-23 March. Colin's cityscapes include the triptych of Battersea Power Station reproduced in my bannerhead. His latest work features luminous country lanes, fields and seascapes. I love this oil on canvas, Harbinger. To see more of his work, visit Colin's website. Gxgallery has an interesting write-up of Colin's work so far, and details of this new exhibition. I hope to attend the private viewing, not least because Colin's painting always inspire me to write.

From a friend of mine

2011-02-11T17:11:00.015Z

Q. How many screenwriters does it take to change a light bulb?

1st draft: Hero changes light bulb. 2nd draft: Villain changes light bulb. 3rd draft: Hero stops villain from changing light bulb. Villain falls to death. 4th draft: Lose the light bulb. 5th draft: Light bulb back in. Fluorescent instead of tungsten. 6th draft: Villain breaks bulb, uses it to kill hero's mentor. 7th draft: Fluorescent not working. Back to tungsten. 8th draft: Hero forces villain to eat light bulb. 9th draft: Hero laments loss of light bulb. Doesn't change it. 10th draft: Hero changes light bulb.

Green for Go

2011-02-11T13:50:00.006Z

Before I was signed by Jane Gregory, just before Christmas, I'd been casting around for writing tasks to keep myself busy and distract me from the worry of waiting to hear whether this time I'd done it, written something really good. Now all that casting is coming back to me, in the form of requests and offers to take on writing tasks, large and small. Given that the rewritten crime novel is going back to my editor mid-March (and given there are no guarantees in this world), I can and should pursue some of these offers. But how to prioritise?

a) The money-makers?
b) The ones that might raise my profile in the right places?
c) The ones I can't resist and would enjoy?

Logic says a). Ambition says b). My heart says c).

Although a bit of my heart also says b) because I've been wanting this for so long it's an emotional as much as a rational sensation. In the next week or so, I must make decisions and prioritise. This will mean saying No to some people, which I hate doing. But I don't want to keep anyone hanging on, because it's unfair and unprofessional. I know, I should be so lucky to be in this situation, right? But remember, no guarantees. I'm not 'there' yet.

As far as the novel goes, I've also been prevaricating, but only in one regard. I have a character who, like all my characters, consists of layers and shades. This character might be ninety per cent decent, ten per cent rotten. Or the balance might be skewed slightly further the other way. I've been putting off deciding, because I love ambiguity and I also have a soft spot for a rotter. But this morning I decided which side to come down on, for the reader's sake. Because ambiguity is all very well, but clarity is the order of the day when you've reached the last dozen pages of the book. I won't tell you which side I came down on, but a decision was taken. Now I have to follow it through and smooth out all the places where it was unclear, polishing until I'm done.

Then there's the chapter told out of chronological order, which might work better if it's put into chronological order (or it might not). I'm going to cut and paste that into a new document and play with the ordering, see what shakes out. And then - and then! I might be close to being ready to print it out for the next full read-through.

Murdoch Mysteries

2011-01-31T14:18:00.004Z

I was in the library in Bristol last summer while a scene from this TV crime series was being filmed outside. The series set in Victorian Toronto, but clearly Georgian Bristol made a decent stand-in. Lisa Faulkner (Spooks) stars alongside Thomas Craig, with newcomers Paul Rhys (Luther) and Victor Garber (Alias). "Based on the award-winning novels of Maureen Jennings, Murdoch Mysteries uses real historical developments in the field of forensic science interwoven with fictional stories of devilish cunning." The fourth series begins on Alibi on 15 February. You can win tickets to an exclusive preview screening on 10 February at the Soho Hotel in London. For your chance to win, unlock this page and crack the code therein. Good luck!

Deep Water by Patricia Highsmith

2011-01-20T21:42:00.004Z

Back in August 2009, it was reported that Mike Nichols was to work on a film adaptation of Patricia Highmith's thriller, Deep Water, with the help of writer Joe Penhall, who wrote the script for The Road. Since then, things have gone very quiet and I wonder if the project has been shelved. If anyone knows for sure, either way, please drop me a line. I've just finished reading Deep Water, and would easily rate it as one of Highsmith's most successful thrillers. It's told from the perspective of cuckolded husband, Vic Van Allen, pillar of his small community, publisher of obscure texts and keeper of snails. As with Tom Ripley, Vic's eye-view on the world is peculiar, to say the least, but we're drawn to it, because Highsmith is so consistent, careful and credible as a storyteller. Which is not say that her stories are always credible, rather the way in which she tells them is so coolly finessed and acutely focused that we never for a second doubt the authenticity of what we're reading, no matter how far her heroes might stray from what the rest of us consider acceptable or even usual behaviour. At one point in the story, Vic is observed by a psychologist, who pronounces him schizophrenic. As readers, we accept both the diagnosis and Vic's plausible amusement at it.

None of the tension sits on the surface. Highsmith rarely uses confrontational situations or action sequences to heighten our sense of fear or excitement. What she does is to painstakingly lay out the facts for our consideration, leading us all the while further and further into the nightmare and towards a conclusion that's unguessable and yet entirely convincing, the only conclusion we would accept, in fact.

We don't race to get there. This isn't a book we can't put down. In fact I recommend putting it down often, to allow time to assimilate the information. The tension comes from the control Highsmith exercises as a writer. A control she exerts over the reader with a cool, almost documentary prose style that tricks us into thinking we're not 'transported' or 'hooked'. Highsmith was smart enough to know that she didn't need to 'transport' the average reader anywhere; all the tension and horror she needed was right here, inside our heads. Bubbling away inside our small communities, like the one which supports Vic Van Allen right up until the final, shocking parting of ways.

Getting my hands dirty

2011-01-15T19:42:00.007Z

I'm making what feels like good progress with the novel rewrite, and thought I'd share something of the experience, new things I've learnt, old things I've ditched, or done differently. The first thing to say is what a difference having an agent and an editor makes! Not just because they've armed me with a blueprint for what needs to change, but because they so clearly have faith in my ability to do this. Too often in the past I've lost faith or enthusiasm at this stage in a writing project. Sometimes this is because I can't see what's wrong with a story or how to put it right. But it's usually got more to do with the fact that I need independent, expert validation of the concept and its execution. I'm fortunate enough to have that validation this time around. It's freed me from my usual diffidence and dithering. I'm swiping the red pen through swathes of text. Liberating? You bet.

In the past, my approach has been... cautious, to say the least. I liked to write out, in detail, notes for what I had to do and how I'd do it. If I made too mistakes on a page of notes, I'd tear it out and write it again, more neatly this time. I would sometimes transpose the same notes from one Moleskine to another, partly because I believed that the repeated act of writing the notes would help the sense to seep into my head and my hands, making the eventual typing of it more powerful. This time around, I sped through, scribbling brief notes that prompted me to remember where new stuff needed to go. I did it quickly because I wanted to maintain momentum. I knew I could go back and fill in the gaps later.

One of the chief challenges of this rewrite was completely changing a character. Age, name, motive, personality, all had to change. But the action taken, which propelled the plot at a vital moment in the story, had to remain the same. So in effect I was retrofitting character to action. One thing I learnt is that you can't create a character in notes alone. I made copious notes over the Christmas break, as to what and who and why this character would be. But it wasn't until I started writing the character's debut in the story that I really understood the voice and what it meant for who this person really was. Accept no substitutes, for black on white.

Some of my old habits have remained. I am still filling - and refilling - the manila Moleskines. I review them each night, re-reading what I've written to see if it fits with what I've done in the ms that day. But I'm learning to trust my instinct, which is essential for a writer. If I have a vague feeling that something isn't - or is - working, then it probably isn't, or is. This is the biggest difference for me, this time around. It's an instinct that needs honing, probably always will. But I trust it. And that makes all the difference.

A year in books

2011-01-05T15:27:00.007Z

So which new titles are you most looking forward to in 2011? I can't wait for Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg to land in London, in the new Fred Vargas, An Uncertain Place, due out in April. After London, our hero heads out to Serbia, on the trail of vampires. Vargas knows how to keep her readers entertained, without a shadow of a doubt. Also out in April is Mo Hayder's new book, Hanging Hill, not a Jack Caffrey novel but it sounds very interesting. Jonathan Kellerman has a new novel out, Mystery, at the end of March. In the meantime, I have Joan Schenkar's biography of Patricia Highsmith to get through. At just over 700 pages, it should keep me busy. Let me know what you're hoping to read in 2011.

A tattered past, tattered future

2011-01-02T07:18:00.007Z

If it's not too late to wish everyone a Happy New Year, then please consider it wished. May it be different, better, best. It's kicking off in great TV style, that's for sure. Tonight is Zen night, the first of three film-length adaptations of Michael Dibdin's Aurelio Zen novels, set in Rome, starring Rufus Sewell as the Venetian detective with the tattered past, tattered future. BBC1, 9pm.

So much still to discuss

2010-12-31T15:07:00.004Z

Back in April I blogged about a visit to my writing mentor and close family friend, Ranald Graham. What I didn't say at the time was that Ranald was dying, of Motor Neurone Disease (MND), an excruciating illness that had killed my father ten years before. Ranald battled the worst symptoms with courage and an appetite for information that defeated the experts in the disease, about which so much remains unknown.

Ranald it was who taught me that writer's block is the alias for a bad idea; that writers would rather be thought lazy or prevaricating than lacking in ideas. It was a theory, a great one. Ranald was a man of theories, of boundless energy and enthusiasm; an hour in his company left your head spinning in all sorts of exciting directions, often concurrently. He had a genius for inspiring those around him, for making life feel like a big adventure with endless questions to be asked and discussions to be had. He's perhaps best known for his TV writing, for The Professionals and The Sweeney, but he also worked in Hollywood, writing the last cowboy movie never filmed and a horror film directed by William Castle, who produced Rosemary's Baby.

I knew Ranald because he was a child internee of the Japanese, one of the children imprisoned for nearly four years at Batu Lintang camp in Borneo. My mother was a year older than Ranald, the pair of them five and six respectively when the camp was liberated by the Australians on 9th September 1945. Ranald was remembered by Nurse Hilda Bates in her diary of the prison camp. There's a decent dedication page on Wikipedia, and links to various obituaries, but nothing that quite captures the spirit of the man.

In Ranald, I lost someone with whom I felt a unique connection, a champion for my efforts as a writer, a role-model and an amazing man. Someone so full of passion and humour and optimism. Someone who gave so much and had so much still to give. His last words to his best friend: "There's still so much to discuss..." He knew how to live. How to really live. What I wouldn't give for an ounce of that joy he felt, and shared. Of everyone, he deserved to live a long life, because he'd have kept on giving - spreading joy and showing the rest of us how to tackle the messy business of living.

To watch a 90 second film about the devastating effect MND has on lives, click here. Please note it is certificate 15. You can learn more about MND here.

Big Pulp

2010-12-28T11:55:00.004Z

Big Pulp's first print edition is out very soon, and includes my short story, Every time's the first. You can order copies here. A Kindle edition is planned, to complete the options for readers. Editor Bill Olver says, 'Thank you all so much for your interest and encouragement as we've made the move into print. We're thrilled with the quality of work that's appearing in our debut edition. We are confident in the quality of the magazine and the talent of our contributors and that makes it much easier to publicize the zine online and approach retail stores to carry us. We're fully behind the magazine and hope you are as proud of it as we are. We couldn't have done it without you!'

Silver

2010-12-23T15:37:00.003Z

Yesterday I returned from the snowy North West to the news that my very short flash, Silver, will be published in the New Year issue of Imbroglio Magazine, which has the funkiest and coolest website I've seen. Silver is one of a trio of pieces I wrote to distract myself while waiting to hear from the agent, whom I can now call 'my agent', which is still wonderfully exciting and the perfect way to kickstart the festivities. Here's to a warm, peaceful, happy Christmas, or what you will.

How to get a literary agent (or not)

2010-12-16T10:02:00.008Z

1. Write a damn good book. (Convince yourself it's word-perfect; show it to no one who might cast doubt on this conviction)

2. Pitch the book to the right agent in the prescribed manner. (Or not. Don't let submission guidelines get in your way; this book can't be pinned down in a paragraph)

3. Practice patience. (Chase after two weeks. That's plenty of time for the book's brilliance to have penetrated)

4. Submit a full ms on request in the prescribed manner. (Convince yourself this is it: your genius is about to be universally acknowledged and rewarded)

5. Accept the rejection with good grace, putting it to one side if necessary until you are in the right frame of mind to read it as the valuable information you need to get better at what you do. (Curse and pity the poor fools who didn't have the wit to recognise genius when they read it; do not entertain the idea that they know more than you do about books and publishing)

6. Start a new book, keeping close at hand the rejection letter that contained vital information about what you needed to do to get further this time. (Start a new book ignoring that ridiculous rejection, which you've torn up in any case)

7. Pitch and submit as earlier. (Give it another shot, possibly mentioning the idiots that turned down your previous work of genius)

8. Accept the rejection with good grace, learning from it all that you can. (Wonder what is wrong with a world that can reject you twice. Storm. Rant. Flounce. Better: do it on your blog, naming and shaming those who thwarted you. Alternatively, curl up in a ball and never come out)

9. Repeat steps six to eight, as required. (Give up. Tell yourself it's because you're too good to get published)

On Tuesday, I was lucky enough to be signed by Gregory & Company, a fantastic agency that specialises in crime and thrillers. I had previously submitted three other novels, all of which were read in full by Jane Gregory's team, all of which were rejected with two pages of feedback that helped me to see why they weren't books that could be published easily, or even at all. My fourth attempt needs work, of course it does. But thanks to a brilliant team at the agency, and an editor who knows exactly how to lead a writer through what's needed, I feel enthused rather than daunted. In fact, I'm dying to get stuck into the changes.

'You've been trying us for some time,' Jane said when we met.

'I'm famed for my stamina,' I confessed.

Not to mention bloody-mindedness, but also as it turns out, the ability to listen to what I'm told and to know that a good writer can always - ALWAYS - be a better writer. This was driven home to me when I read Jane's interview for Mslexia, where she talks about what it takes to be signed by her and to make it as a writer.

Keep the faith, take advice from the experts, never give up.

Writing about what we've lost

2010-12-10T09:02:00.009Z

Great newsletter from Mo Hayder this morning, in which she talks about moving home for the thirty-third time in forty-nine years. Funnily enough, her latest move takes Mo to the Cotswolds, which I left eighteen months ago. "Someone once said that people write better about something when they've lost it," Mo writes, and that resonated with me. The newsletter is all about distance, and altered perspectives, and how these things help us to see our writing in new and exciting ways.

Several of the themes in my current novel are things I've moved on from recently. I won't say 'lost', since they've become part of me, but I've only recently acquired the distance - emotionally - to be able to put them down on paper. As Mo says of her recent writing, it's liberating, but it's more than just that.

Stories that come from under our skin are the ones most likely to get under the skin of others.

I'm looking forward to Mo's new book, The Hanging Hill, set in the city she's just left: Bath. She's certainly picked an adventurous season in which to spend her first Christmas in the Cotswolds. I hope she has a wood-burning stove and a village store.

The truth is out there

2010-12-02T13:31:00.005Z

Well, the novel is. Following a full ms request, I edited, polished, printed, bubble-wrapped and brown-papered the thing and posted it this morning. I have the usual symptoms: queasy anticipation and mild regret, the latter only insofar as I miss it now it's gone out into the world. I won't say I feel bereft, as that would be gilding the gingerbread, but I am at a loose end. I plan to catch up with my reading, TV viewing and Christmas gift-wrapping, until my head is cleared enough to begin writing something new.

I thought it might be useful to mention (and link to) some blog posts and sound advice which I followed as I edited and prepared the ms for mailing. Firstly, this excellent post by Elizabeth Craig on Keeping it interesting, which helped me to focus on those moments when the story might be slacking off, helping me to keep it fresh and the reader engaged. Dmytry Karpov's blog post, Brevity is key, was a good reminder of one aspect in the editing process: getting rid of anything unnecessary. Finally, as I was about to send it off, I came across this insight by Rachelle Gardner, into what might be going through an agent's mind when she reads my ms.

All of the above, by the way, I discovered via Twitter. I wholeheartedly retract my earlier peevishness about the value of this brand of social networking; it's a goldmine. Of course, you all knew that already, but it took me a while to get past my Luddite objections and see for myself. I'm very glad I did. If you have a Twitter for me to follow - your own or a recommendation - please let me know.

Harrogate Crime Festival

2010-11-21T09:28:00.002Z

The people behind the Harrogate Crime Festival have launched a new online community, You're Booked, for crime readers and writers. I'm today's guest blogger, talking about how technology killed the gumshoe detective. Please pop along and leave a comment. Thank you!

Gentleman's Relish

2010-11-17T10:32:00.006Z

The new issue of The Short Review is online now. It includes my review of Patrick Gale's collection, Gentleman's Relish, which I enjoyed very much. Happy third birthday to TSR, by the way! What a great three years of reviews, interviews and stories.

This is a solid collection that shows, above all else, that there’s merit in the traditional form of story-telling: lure your reader with the familiar, and thereafter you can deal what (strange, perverse or poignant) cards you like.

Patrick is reading one of my favourite stories from the collection, Hushed Casket, at Cambridge WordFest 2010 on 27 November.

Books for everyone

2010-11-14T10:35:00.007Z

Whether or not you celebrate Christmas, here are my recommendations for book gifts. Lots of choices for children, because I'm always buying these sorts of books but don't often see recommendations on blogs like this. The links all lead to The Book Depository. Because I'm a bit cheesed off with Amazon right now, and we all need choices. The Book Depository has great discounts, free postage and a quick service. Happy shopping, and reading.

Mad Men: the illustrated world by Dyna Moe. Why? It has a cut-out and dress-up Joanie doll. Also a guide to dealing with the office emergency of a severed foot. For? Girlfriends, best friends, your gay husband, anyone you want to impress with your wit and vivacity.

Mr Chicken goes to Paris by Leigh Hobbs. Why? It's funny, smart and a bit bonkers. For? Toddlers, parents of toddlers who are counting the weeks until they can take their offspring abroad.

In my Patch by Sara Gillingham. Why? It's cute and tactile, with a finger-puppet mouse. For? Babies, new parents of babies.

Wash this blood clean from my hand by Fred Vargas. Why? It has the most adorable detective in the world, solving crimes that rely on intellect rather than viscera for their impact. For? Mothers-in-law, female friends, anyone who appreciates the finer things in crime.

Dogs don't do ballet by Anna Kemp. Why? It's mad as a box of squirrels. For? Five year old rebel rousers, parents of five year olds who are tired of the pinkness of ballet books.

The Small Hand by Susan Hill. Why? It's a beautiful looking book and an instant classic. For? Mothers, grandmothers.

Diary of a Wimpy Kid: the Ugly Truth by Jeff Kinsey. Why? It's a mixture of cartoon and story, international bestseller and very cool. For? Nine year olds with an off-beat sense of humour, kids who moan about school - they'll soon see how good they've got it.

Hitchcock by Francois Truffaut. Why? It's a dialogue between two of the world's greatest directors, with storyboard-style stills from all the famous Hitchcock films. For? Fathers, brothers, film buffs of all ages.

Mr Gum and the Secret Hideout by Andy Stanton. Why? I defy anyone not to love these books. Wild, wacky and the best fun to read out loud. For? Kids that don't like reading, or being read to. They'll break through the barrier, I guarantee it.

Diary of a Wimpy Vampire by Tim Collins. Why? Because the undead have feelings too. For? Young teens who spend too much time in their rooms. At least this way you'll know what they're doing - reading this book.

National Short Story Week

2010-11-10T16:24:00.002Z

I'm very excited to be a part of National Short Story Week, reading one of my stories at Blackwell's in Bristol on Wednesday 24 November. Do come along if you can. Organiser and MC for the evening, is Tania Hershman. Special guest is Vanessa Gebbie.

Blackwell's, Park Street, Bristol

A Celebration of the Short Story

Wednesday, 24th November, 6pm– 8pm

A great short story can do something no other form can. It has been described as "an apocalypse in a very small cup", a complete world that you are immersed in for only the time it takes to drink a cup of tea or wait for a bus but one which may remain in your mind for far, far longer. It can make you laugh or cry, terrify and delight you, all in the space of a few pages - or even less!

Come and celebrate the short story with readings by local writers Tania Hershman, Sarah Hilary, Anna Britten, Louise Gethin, Pauline Masurel, Nicholas Rawlinson, Ursula Wills-Jones, Margot Taylor and Alan Toyne, and special guest, award-winning short story writer Vanessa Gebbie, whose second collection, Storm Warning, has just been published. And read your own stories in the open mic slot, 5 minutes maximum, just turn up and join in the party!

Fred Vargas

2010-10-23T12:33:00.003+01:00

A big thank you to whoever it was who recommended Fred Vargas to me. I'm reading her at the moment, This Night's Foul Work, and it's terrific, full of intriguing and appealing characters, not least the hero, Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg, whose reactions to everything are unexpected and endearing. He's small and vague and really rather wonderful. The first time in ages that I've found a new writer I like in this genre. Fred (short for Frédérique) Vargas is an historian turned writer, with an acute attention to detail, wit and imagination. I'm only a third of the way into this book but already I'm hooked on her unusual eye for character and intrigue. The police call in an archaeologist to help exhume a grave as the soil structure baffles them; the expert digs with his hands and from touch alone tells them how the grave was dug by two men, in turns, with distinctive ways of holding the pick-axe. The whole section was brilliantly done, with humour and cleverness that didn't run to ego. I hope her other books are as good. I've ordered two more, including the one that preceded This Night's Foul Work, as it alludes to terrible trauma for our hero. Can't wait!

Pedestal Magazine

2010-10-22T08:13:00.007+01:00

The new issue of Pedestal Magazine is out today, and has my review of Mariana Dietl's Argentinos.

Reading this collection, I wished I was Argentinian—not because the stories made me yearn for a country the author describes as “impulsive and erratic,” but because I so often sensed that so much had been lost in translation.

Exposure

2010-10-12T17:05:00.005+01:00

Isn't the cover great for this new Cinnamon Press anthology of microfiction? The collection includes work by writers from all over the place (and me!).

"Ranging across love, loss, hate, journeys and other oddities these finely written pieces constantly surprise, delight and challenge. With a powerful title piece from Bill Trüb this is an innovative anthology full of difference."

It will be published in November and is available for pre-order.

Who tells your story? POV changes everything

2010-10-11T14:17:00.005+01:00

I was interested to read James Wood in the London Review of Books today, on the difficulties of the narrative voice in Emma Donoghue's Booker shortlisted novel, Room. The story takes its prompt from the real-life case of Josef Fritzel, and is told through the eyes of its five year old hero, Jack. Wood states very lucidly the difficulty posed by this narrative choice, for the author but also for the reader:

"... unfortunately Jack is a child, and unfortunately Jack narrates the novel, and unfortunately Jack is a pretty cute kid, which means that the book itself is never far from cuteness – more Adrian Mole than Ivan Denisovich – which may explain the endorsements of Room provided by sentimental popular novelists like Anita Shreve and Audrey Niffenegger. Where is Mark Haddon’s imprimatur? And of course, a novel narrated by a five-year-old kid stretches to breaking point the already uneasy tension in first-person narration between the supposed orality of the recitation and its actual writtenness."

I think Wood makes a very good point. Even if our primary interest in the story is its psychological impact on the hero, the narrative doesn't quite capture - convincingly, consistently - the extent of that impact. Because no 5 year old can be expected to articulate an experience of this kind, let alone in a manner that extracts the nuances and the socio-political subtext which would have made this a richer, more thought-provoking work. I absolutely understand Donoghue's attraction to the subject matter, as a writer, but I wonder if she took the easy route through, by avoiding anything approaching an adult commentary.

The narrator in The Lovely Bones is older, and manages to combine a childish wonder with an emerging adult instinct for danger and despair - we don't lose anything by seeing the story through her eyes. In any case, Sebold's novel is not (to my knowledge) based on a real-life crime. The prude in me (if that's what it is) wants to demand that fiction inspired by real-life crime takes its responsibilities very seriously, thinks about what is important in the narrative, what responses readers should feel, the questions we should ask about a world that contains this kind of crime. I don't believe this was ever going to be possible through the narrative POV of a 5 year old, and I wonder whether Donoghue believed it to be possible.

Ultimately, I think my disappointment with the novel is its light-weight treatment of what is a deeply disturbing and morally challenging subject matter. I'm not squeamish but even if I was, I wouldn't want my reaction to a story inspired by the crimes of Josef Fritzel to be "Aww, how sweet!"

The Short Review

2010-10-07T16:10:00.002+01:00

The October issue is out, and carries my review of Man Receives a Letter by Peter Gordon:

Beautifully described moments in the lives of complex characters, told without drama but with a close attention to the detail of what’s most remarkable in the human condition

I'm looking forward to reading Metrophilias by Brendan Connell, and The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis.

This time of year

2010-10-05T17:16:00.003+01:00

I'm always at my best in the Autumn. All the things we're meant to feel in Spring - refreshed, awake - I get at this time of year. Plus I love the colours of Autumn, and the textures (nubby tweed and Shetland wool and frothy alpaca...). Oh and there's Christmas at the end of it all, which still manages to make me happy and not frazzled, mainly because I avoid the high-end trappings and concentrate on indulgences, curling up with good books and people. I feel I might start writing something new (a short story, maybe a flash) in a week or so. But for now I'm reading (Toby Litt) and walking and enjoying having not very much to do and the space in which to do it. Happy Autumn, bloggers!

What's a little sociopathy between friends?

2010-09-28T14:37:00.010+01:00

Those of you in London may have spotted these Wanted posters, advertising a new marketing strategy on behalf of Jonathan Kellerman's publicity for his latest Alex Delaware novel, Deception, which I enjoyed recently. I've been a fan of Kellerman's books for a few years, working my way back through his Delaware series to its beginnings. Alex is a child psychologist turned police consultant, not always a classic hero (in some of his earlier adventures the tormented machismo got a bit much for me, I must admit) but when he teams up with LA homicide detective Milo Sturgis (a big smart slob of a man, who happens to be gay), well then I find the pair of them pretty much irresistible.

Kellerman specialises in plot AND character, rather than one or the other. He plots and sub-plots like a crazy demon plotting machine, but it's his characters and descriptions of the murky corners of LA that make him so readable. Detail upon detail, all sewn together beautifully, nothing spared or wasted. I like his books from the late 80s and early 90s, especially. Some of the more recent ones had been pared down rather too much for my taste, with the banter between Milo and Alex reduced to shorthand. It makes sense, after all the groundworking in the early stories, but I missed the richness of the prose and dialogue. But Deception is a return to top form, complex and twisted and oh-so-dark.

I was intrigued to be emailed about the viral marketing campaign around the book. Here's what the strategists had to say:

"The lead character in author Jonathan Kellerman’s series of crime novels, has been brought to life online with a call to fans to help ‘solve’ the murder at the heart of his latest book, DECEPTION... Delaware and Detective Milo Sturgis must enter the cutthroat world of private education to seek the killer of Elise Freeman, a teacher who may not be all she seems. Once again they must delve into the darkest recesses of the human compulsions and seek the truth against fierce opposition, even from within their own ranks.

"For the paperback launch of this murder mystery, published by Headline, the fictional psychologist has been brought to life on Twitter, Facebook and via his own website so that fans can get to know the man behind the Ph.D. To help solve his most complex case yet, Alex Delaware is turning to the public to help uncover a killer. Delaware will give fans access to information about his current case, including exclusive evidence from the crime scene.

"Campaign posters on the London Underground, based on a traditional ‘wanted’ poster, call for help from the public to assist in solving the murder by directing them to Dr Alex Delaware’s website, either online or via mobile. Once there, a criminal empathy test allows fans to find out which type of criminal they most identify with, to help Delaware understand the criminal mind and the types of crime people are most likely to commit. Participants then also feedback to Delaware on key pieces of evidence and their understanding of events, based on their criminal affiliations.

"This is the first time that fans will be able to interact directly with the book’s leading man and this campaign takes this interactivity to a whole new level: readers actually get to become part of the crime-solving team as Delaware searches for insights into the murderer (or murderers) he is chasing.

Commenting on the new campaign, Vicky Cowell, Marketing manager at Headline Publishing Group, said: “Bringing Alex Delaware to life online is a very bold step and one which we think fans will really get behind. The chance to interact with Delaware is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity... As fans know, Delaware doesn’t like to work in isolation and getting outside opinions on the crime will really help him to form his views and catch the killer.”

"Delaware will also interact with fans via his Facebook and Twitter pages and call for insight from them to help solve the case. To watch the film, view the evidence and interact with Delaware, visit: http://www.alexdelaware.co.uk/

I guess I really should join Twitter now, shouldn't I?

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE

Perhaps I'd better not join Twitter, since the "Criminal Tendency" test at Delaware's site says I'm a sociopath:

"People are an alien species. You’ve never understood them and find relating to them almost impossible. Social graces, morality and even common decency are all foreign currency to the sociopath. There is only one setting for you; ice cold."

Yikes.

The Art of Fiction

2010-09-23T17:41:00.006+01:00

Of the many reasons I love The Paris Review, their series of interviews with writers comes first. Such as this one with William Trevor: "I think self-confidence is a very dangerous thing for writers. I tend to write in a fragile, edgy, doubtful sort of way, trying things out all the time, never confident that I've got something right," which sums up my afternoon's work perfectly. And this one, with P.D. James: "I write the books out of order, rather as if I were shooting a film, and then put the story together at the end". Or this one, with John Le Carre: "It's a principle of mine to come into the story as late as possible, and to tell it as fast as you can," which has made me think about my current project in a different, refreshing way.

Seán Ó Faoláin Commendation

2010-09-20T15:21:00.002+01:00

Congratulations to the winners of the 8th Annual SOF Contest! I'm heartily chuffed that my story was Highly Commended.

8th Annual Seán Ó Faoláin Short Story Competition 2010

2010-09-01T16:35:00.006+01:00

Congratulations to everyone on the shortlist, which has just gone up on site here. I'm thrilled that my story, "You would feel your heart fall over", is up there with the 22 selected stories from over 800 entries. It started life after I heard a group of elderly women mourning a friend who'd just moved into a care home: 'I couldn't do it. I have my own chairs here.' There is much more to the story than the chair, but it's the central image, the point where the story begins and ends. I enjoyed writing it. To see it on the shortlist is very exciting.

Book swap, anyone?

2010-08-19T19:37:00.010+01:00

I have a handful of recently-read crime novels that need good homes. Free to whoever asks first, or has something comparable to swap. There's a whole slew of Georges Simenon Maigrets; The Silver Swan by Benjamin Black; Genesis by Karin Slaughter; Jonathan Kellerman's Rage, Obsession, and Blood Test; Land of the Living by Nicci French, and Murder in the Latin Quarter by Cara Black. All in perfect condition.

Red meat, leafy greens and Sherlock

2010-08-08T12:14:00.012+01:00

I'm on a quest for iron-rich foods, prompted by my GP. Apparently it wouldn't take much to tip me into anaemia. So I shall be after the darkest of dark chocolates, the reddest of meats and possibly some buttered spinach with nutmeg and ground ginger. Yum. Thus fortified, I hope to get back the attention span necessary to see the rest of the novel through. In other news, I've been enjoying Sherlock on BBC1. The final of three episodes is tonight at 9pm, but it's all available on the BBC's iPlayer via their website. I'm a huge fan of the Holmes stories, and resisted watching this "modern adapatation" at first. But the use of Victorian locations around London, the score, the editing and lighting - it's all beautifully done, suspended at the exact spot between light-hearted tribute and dark pathos, thanks in huge part to Martin Freeman as Watson, a performance that's worthy of a BAFTA for my money. He's funny, compassionate, quiet, observant, interesting and layered. Everything you could want in a hero. Benedict Cumberbatch is suitably insufferable as Holmes, but it's Freeman who steals the show. Do watch this, if you aren't already hooked.

Getting the measure of good crime writing

2010-08-02T19:29:00.010+01:00

A short but interesting write-up in the Telegraph today, following the Harrogate Crime-Writing Festival last week. It seems some crime writers are getting the wind up about just how serious the genre should be. To try and compete with literary writers, or not? To connect with readers, surely? The joy of 'making stuff up' versus the urge to write home truths drawn from real life. As the Telegraph puts it: "the pleasingly dissonant sound of writers singing from many different hymn sheets".

For my money, good crime writing gets under the skin of real people, based in the real world. At its best, it gets deeper under that skin than other genres. But there's the temptation to flirt with the grotesque - to reach new heights (or depths) of depravity - to shock the reader in ways they haven't been shocked before. Taken to an extreme, this can fracture the connection between writer and reader; it takes a highly skilled writer to hold our attention while turning our stomachs.

I'd rate Thomas Harris' Silence of the Lambs above just about any other in this regard, although it's interesting that what engaged most readers - and the author himself - was the human relationships at the heart of the story and not its serial killer with the dodgy personal habits. I'd also point out how much more I enjoyed Mo Hayder's recent novels to her earlier ones, where the shocks came thick and fast but the characters cried out for a deeper exploration - which, in the case of Jack Caffrey, she served up in the later books, in spades.

Crime writing which relies heavily on shock value, on excessive brutality or grotesquerie, usually strays into farce. I'm not saying brutality isn't a part of reality, of course it is. But if the reader can detect the sweat, blood and tears of the writer in the effort, it severs the link, takes us out of the story into boggling at the craft beneath.

A good friend told me recently she'd given up on 'hardcore crime' after reading a particularly bloody and bizarre passage which had the opposite effect to that intended by its hard-working author: it made her laugh. Not because it was funny, but because she could sense the effort which'd gone into its nastiness. 'This,' she could clearly hear the writer thinking, 'is the stuff to give 'em!'

Yep, I had a similar reaction to Mo Hayder's Pig Island. But by the time she was writing Skin she'd put the shocks (and the laughs) in their place; Skin is a terrific read, exciting and haunting, funny and tragic. Balance is everything, and Hayder's got the measure of this now.

Natasha Cooper wrote a great piece around this topic, a couple of years ago, but her words have stood the test of time. Read her advice on the Dangers of Crime Writing here.

Nuala Ní Chonchúir's You

2010-07-20T17:15:00.010+01:00

I’m very happy to welcome Nuala Ní Chonchúir on the latest leg of her virtual book tour. Born Dublin 1970, award-winning fiction writer and poet Nuala lives in County Galway. Her novel You was published by New Island in April 2010; her third short fiction collection Nude was published by Salt in 2009; The Irish Times called it ‘a memorable achievement’. Nude was shortlisted for the 2010 Edge Hill Short Story Prize. Nuala is fiction editor of Horizon Review.

I’ll begin by saying how much I enjoyed You, which is a tough and touching story of family life in extremis, told through the eyes of a canny ten year old girl. Chock full of colourful characters, the story takes an unflinching and often funny look at adult dilemmas and tragedy, as seen by a wondering (and wonderful) child. It’s a terrific read, the sort you can manage in one sitting but which stays with you long after that. Go, read! I asked Nuala about the three aspects of the novel which intrigued me:

You is told through the eyes of your ten year old heroine. Was this a conscious decision you took at the outset, and how hard was it to stick to that voice exclusively? Were you tempted at any point to show us, for example, the mother's side of the story? What do you feel to be the advantages and disadvantages of telling a complex, adult story through the eyes of a child?

This novel grew from a short story and I never start anything (stories, novels, poems) in what I would call a conscious way. I don’t take a decision – I just start to write, usually, because a first line pops into my head, and it has a voice that belongs to a character, and I just run with that. So this girls’ voice emerged very strongly, in the second person, and I was enjoying her voice so much I just kept writing and writing. I soon realised it was turning into a novel and I wanted to keep going.

It was always going to be the girl’s view of the world – not her mother’s – though it is the mother’s story, really. I liked the challenge presented by telling difficult things from a child’s point of view. That’s what I love about a long piece of work: all the questions and problems that get thrown up that you have to solve; I find that thrilling and mildly excruciating at the same time.

As for advantages, well, the reader has to guess at what is really going on because the child narrator can’t always see the truth in things, though my character is quite sharp.
Disadvantages? Erm, I can’t think of any. Telling from the POV of the child is a plot device like any other. It’s enormous fun. I used to go around thinking ‘Oh, yes, she’d look at x this way and y that way’ purely because she is ten years old. It maybe removes me – the adult writer – from the piece a bit more. And that’s good, I think.

Water is very important to this story: the Channel that the children cross, and especially the river, which feels like a character in its own right, both benign and threatening. Do you live near water, and what is its significance to you as a writer?

I grew up beside the river Liffey in Dublin. The physical landscape of You is the landscape of my childhood. The house on the river, where the family in the novel lives, was my friend’s house. The river was hugely important in my childhood: we paddled, swam, fished, floated and boated on and in it; we were familiar with its wildlife: swans, herons, ducks, otters, kingfishers, fish. We were warned away from it because of drownings that had happened but we were drawn to it.

My first collection of short stories The Wind Across the Grass was full of water, specifically the river I grew up beside. When you live that close to a river it influences you: you see, hear and smell it every day. You talk about it with you neighbours: ‘The river’s high today’ or ‘The river’s low today’.

I think childhood is a huge influence on what we write anyway and the river was such a part of mine it couldn’t help but show up.

What was the starting point of the story? Was there a key image or idea that it grew from, and how did you set about shaping that idea into the final story?

Well, the voice of this spiky, sensitive girl came to me and she had a troubled mother. I tend to write to tell stories to myself, so I’m not a fan of plotting and planning. I just start to write and see where it leads me. During that journey I think a lot and ask a lot of questions. What if this happened? Or, for example, what if so-and-so had this profession, how would that shape him as a character? I deliberately made the sinister character Kit a butcher, to give him a semi-violent edge.

Setting is also hugely important to me and it occurred to me early on that I could set this story in my home-place and so all the physical locations were to hand in my head, so to speak. And the river became, as you said Sarah, another character in the book.

It took a year to write the novel and I had no idea as I went along what was going to happen or how it would end. That exploration of the story for myself is a big part of the joy of writing for me.

Thanks, Nuala. The exploration aspect certainly came across beautifully in You. I look forward to reading where the journey (and the joy) takes you next.

Supporting cast

2010-07-13T11:37:00.010+01:00

I do love it when things come together, and in unexpected ways. I blogged a while ago about finding an elusive character (my creation) in an earlier story, Here She Is. I've just discovered someone I thought was a bit-player, quietly in the background, is one of the major characters in my novel. How this character will feel about being dragged from obscurity into the limelight, I don't know. Perhaps he/she liked being a bit-player. Or perhaps he/she will see this as the big break every actor craves. In either case, it's a turning point for the plot and one that liberates other characters to behave as they please, rather than trying to fit my machinations.

To be clear: I had no idea this character would be The One. I did not write him/her to fit that mould, or not consciously. But now I come to look at him/her I find that all the facets are there, everything I need in terms of motive and opportunity. The smallest tweak and it falls into place. At least I hope so. I'd better get writing and find out.

Bad! science

2010-07-09T13:34:00.010+01:00

I enjoyed listening to Blinded by Science on Radio 4 earlier this week, Tania Hershman stealing the show with her flash story and discussion around the benefits of bringing art and science closer together. But it got me thinking, tangentially, about Technology and the Whodunnit.

I read a fair amount of crime fiction, as you may imagine, since I'm writing a crime novel. One of my favourite authors is Jonathan Kellerman, who manages to write compelling characters, intricate plots, superb locations and surprising crimes. He's been at it since the mid-80s and is still going strong. His early novels are good but for my money he hit his stride in the mid-90s. His recent books, from 2000 onwards, aren't a patch on those written ten years ago, at least I don't think so. Part of the reason for this is that he's pared down his style to such an extent that it sometimes reads as if he's summarising instead of telling the story. The bigger part of the reason, though, is that his detectives "benefit" from modern technology. Not just forensics (Kellerman loves to bash the CSI school of police science) but everyday technology.

Mobile phones are the worst offenders. Every character always knows where every other character is at any given time. They can call for back-up, or just to pick the brains of a colleague. It's good to talk, apparently. Personally I preferred the days when the hero could become perilously isolated, his call for help delayed in transit or thwarted by a vandalised phonebox.

Then there's the research angle. Kellerman's hero is brilliant at hunting down clues, extrapolating, following his nose, trying out angles. Or, you know, putting words into Google and, erm, instantly eliminating multiple avenues of investigation. He used to risk his neck doing this stuff, now the biggest threat is RSI.

There's your detective novel done for, right there. RIP gumshoe hero.

Now I'm no Luddite. But sometimes I surprise in myself an idle wish for a satellite serial killer who will do for modern technology what the Millennium Bug was meant to do. Just, you know, so my heroes (and those of others) could have something more exciting to do all day than go online and run up a massive Orange network bill.

I wonder if this thought is behind the recent fascination with historial crime? A return to the good old days when heroes could be baffled and blind-alleyed, and had to work their socks (or clocked-stockings) off to get their man? I expect so.

The silver lining, as I see it? Logically, since modes of investigation are becoming limited and less random, that which differentiates one author from another and one book from the rest, should be characterisation.

You can lead a man to Google, but you can't make him think. The way in which he does that is in the hands of the author, regardless of who owns the network.

Proper words in proper places

2010-07-08T10:16:00.012+01:00

If you can't annoy somebody, there's little point in writing (Kingsley Amis)

Every word written is a victory against death (Michel Butor)

All romances end in tragedy. One of the key people in a romance becomes a monster sooner or later (David Cronenberg)

There is no reason why good cannot triumph as often as evil. The triumph of anything is a matter of organization. If there are such things as angels, I hope that they are organized along the lines of the Mafia (Kurt Vonnegut)

A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people (Thomas Mann)

I learned that you should feel when writing, not like Lord Byron on a mountain top, but like a child stringing beads in kindergarten - happy, absorbed and quietly putting one bead on after another (Brenda Ueland)

I never want to see anyone, and I never want to go anywhere or do anything. I just want to write (P. G. Wodehouse)

Don't worry about people stealing your ideas. If your ideas are any good, you'll have to ram them down people's throats (Howard Aiken)

Asking a working writer what he thinks about critics is like asking a lamp-post what he thinks about dogs (Christopher Hampton)

It is advantageous to an author that his book should be attacked as well as praised. Fame is a shuttlecock. If it be struck at one end of the room, it will soon fall to the ground. To keep it up, it must be struck at both ends (Samuel Johnson)

Proper words in proper places, make the true definition of style (Jonathan Swift)

Over to you!

The Short Review

2010-06-22T14:19:00.006+01:00

The new issue is out! Always a cause for celebration, each edition of The Short Review is packed with interviews and reviews of short story collections, classic, contemporary - you name it, it's here. I'm looking forward especially to reading the reviews of Richard Yates' Collected Stories, and Both Ways is the Only Way I Want it by Maile Meloy. My review of Grace Paley: The Collected Stories is also in this new issue:

The Long-Distance Runner, I’m told, is an allegory for the menopause. So what, frankly? It’s a terrific story of a woman running away from her life and into other people’s. Paley ends the story like this: "A woman inside the steamy energy of middle age runs and runs. She finds the houses and streets where her childhood happened. She lives in them. She learns as though she was still a child what in the world is coming next."
Yes, she does. Exactly.

The unreliable narrator

2010-06-21T10:45:00.007+01:00

Love her, or hate her? (Or him?) For myself, I love an unreliable narrator. I've recently re-read two first-rate examples, both by Jenefer Shute. Life-Size is a politically-astute, fiery and controversial story about a young woman in the grip of anorexia. Sex Crimes is a terrific thriller about an older woman's brutally destructive relationship with a younger man. Both books are told in the first person by a narrator whose perspective is skewed, almost fatally so, but such is Shute's skill as a storyteller that the reader is never too far from the truth no matter how the narrator might dodge or conceal it. In each case, these are amongst the most exciting and compelling stories I've ever read, poetically told, unsparingly bleak, ultimately rewarding.

A more subtle version of the unreliable narrator can be found in Helen Dunmore's Talking to the Dead, where the reader only starts to doubt the narrative after several chapters, by which time we are so wedded to it that it becomes an exercise in detection to separate the strands of what we are being told and what is not being said. It then becomes almost a competitive sport, as the reader and narrator race to the finish, each with their own piece of the puzzle that will - together - solve the mystery at the heart of the story.

Dunmore talks of this bond between the author and reader as a ‘very deep form of play’. She likens the reader response to that of a person watching a film, viewpoints changing as the camera draws back or closes in. ‘Language has a very powerful sound texture’ she says, enabling the author to capitalise on people’s familiarity with the visual medium of film.

So, do you have favourite examples of unreliable narrators? My list would have to include Humbert Humbert from Lolita. Please recommend your favourites, as I would love to read more of these sorts of stories.

Piecing together a secret past

2010-06-17T10:57:00.007+01:00

This story fascinates me. Helen Dunmore drew my attention to it when I interviewed her recently. The E-Puzzler is a piece of machinery being used to "reconstitute" the shredded Stasi files: 45 million documents evidencing the East German secret police's activities prior to 1989, a time when it's estimated there was one police informer for every seven citizens.

"In some ways the E-puzzler works like a human doing a jigsaw, only much faster and without the benefit of a box-lid to show what the puzzle should look like. First, the fragments from each bag are smoothed out and fed into a large scanner: not just ordinary paper but carbon paper, photographs, microfilm, newsprint and folders. The unique characteristics of each piece — shape, colour, font, texture, handwriting, paper-type, edges and thickness — are stored digitally. Using an algorithm, the computer groups together similar fragments to reduce the “search space”, and then locates pieces that join up by matching the different characteristics. The task was made slightly easier by the fact that the Stasi rippers tended to bundle the scraps from sets of files into a single bag."

Link to the full article from The Times, 22 March 2010

Helen Dunmore

2010-06-13T14:58:00.002+01:00

I'm re-reading my favourite Helen Dunmore novels at the moment, rediscovering the pleasure of reading pitch-perfect prose shot through with a bitterdark strand of realism, whether crime, thriller, tragedy or history. I had the pleasure of interviewing Helen last week, for a piece which will appear in the autumn issue of the Bristol Review of Books. It was fascinating to discuss fiction with her, including the nuances of character, the need for distinct voices and what Helen calls 'the role of the dead in the lives of the living'.

Of her novels I would particularly recommend Talking to the Dead, which is set during a heatwave one summer as a family regroups and falls apart after the birth of a new baby awakens memories of an old death. Your Blue-Eyed Boy is the book of hers I've read most often, and it still grips me. Set by the sea, it's another but very different story of the past returning to haunt the present. Every character is credible, layered and complex. I haven't read much of her poetry but would like to. Can anyone recommend a good starting-point?

Ice Cream

2010-06-05T18:42:00.012+01:00

You know how it is when you discover a book and want to buy half a dozen copies so you can send one to each of your closest friends so they can share the discovery that's too good to be kept to yourself? That's how I feel about Ice Cream by Helen Dunmore. It's not a new book, first published in 2000, but I've just read it for the first time; short stories I want to share.

The next day, when the sun was high, I went back to the lilac bushes. There was no sign except a patch of trampled grass. I pulled down a branch and buried my face in the cones of flowers. The smell of the lilacs went through me as if my blood was carrying it. Strong, sweet, languid, yet fresh as water.

Delicious stories, each one different, several worthy of re-reading. Dunmore is a wizard at writing flavours, scents, food and nature; every page is spiced with sensory experience. There are stories to sink into, to drift away with. Warm stories, and cool ones, and some that are downright icy for when the summer gets too hot. Perfect!

Re-entry

2010-05-28T11:11:00.002+01:00

For the past two months I've been up to my neck in the new novel, writing around 4,000 words a day, living and breathing and dreaming my characters and plot. Now, as the first full draft is nearly done, I'm experiencing a period of mental readjustment that I'm sure is entirely usual but with which I could use any tips or advice on offer. I'm grieving a little for my characters, not wanting to say goodbye, which sounds like twaddle but doesn't feel that way. I've become horrible misanthropic these last few days, aware that I'm about to enter a phase which requires I stop holding the rest of the world at bay and rejoin the human race. Does anyone have any recommendations as to the best way to go about this? I'm not a very sociable being at the best of times; my instinct is to withdraw and spend time alone but I sense that's not what I need (although, oh! for a week in a faraway spa, all by myself). Exercise, diet and/or mental stimulus suggestions would all be most welcome. Thank you!

Bristol Short Story Prize

2010-05-20T10:22:00.003+01:00

The longlist for the Bristol Prize has just been published, and I'm thrilled to find my name among so many I know and admire, including Frances Gapper and Elizabeth Baines. Now I must do my best to forget all about this and concentrate on other things, namely the novel. A good friend of mine and a great YA author, Elizabeth Wein, wisely said that wishing or hoping too hard for a thing often scares it away. Much better to enjoy the moment (only 40 entries out of nearly 1,500 made it to the longlist) and forget all about it.

Glass Woman Prize, and Asham Award

2010-05-17T15:51:00.011+01:00

Flash fiction has another notch in its bed-post today, as Julie Innis' Sanctuary has won the Glass Woman Prize. Congratulations, Julie!

That's the short short story. The longer one is that I hit 60,000 words with the novel, today which feels like an important milestone. I still haven't re-read any of it and don't intend to until I've reached a first full draft, hopefully by the end of this month. It feels good to be a full-time writer again.

Back to the short stories, because I want to say how much I enjoyed Average Sunday Afternoon by Pat Jourdan, which includes a marvellous flash fiction piece called Miss Haversham Reconstructed. Wonderful, impish and so true.

Finally, the Asham Award is about open for business and this year there's a theme. Ghost, or Gothic. I have something to send to this - hurrah! The entry fee is £15 - boo. That makes it one of the most expensive contests to enter in the UK. Ouch.

Two schools of thought

2010-05-04T17:35:00.008+01:00

Opinion is divided on this one, and I'd be interested in people's preferences. When you're writing, do you also take time out to read? Or do you prefer to keep the two separate? I know some writers who find (or just fear) they'll lose their own voice if they're writing while reading another author. I can understand this. But, on balance, I prefer to take the risk. Chiefly because I get so much out of reading, it inspires me, it fills out the world I need to inhabit as a writer, while writing.

During the last ten days I've written the first third of a new novel. I've been writing four or sometimes five hours every week day, an average of 1,000 words per hour. My routine goes something like this: 9am walk for an hour (my incentive is an excellent takeaway latte, at the top of a gruelling hill) while "watching" the next scenes in my novel running like movie reel in my mind's eyes; 10am write for three hours; break for lunch and read for an hour and/or make notes towards the novel; 2pm write for another hour. After the school run, I go offline, tidy my notebook for tomorrow so I know roughly where I'm starting from. Then I read, for a couple of hours at least.

I find the keeping of notes very helpful. I don't re-read what I've written the day before, unless my notes dictate a light edit. But mostly I concentrate on moving forwards, getting it done. I find reading essential. It flexes a different part of my brain entirely. It makes me think about what works and doesn't work in novels, structurally perhaps more than in terms of the words themselves. But when I say that during the last ten days I've read Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy, Miss Smilla's Feeling for Snow, The Betrayal by Helen Dunmore, and AL Kennedy's Day, it's probably apparent that I'm not reading around any one topic, or looking for exact inspiration. I'm just closing the circle, surrounding myself in words because this is where I want to be right now. Where I need to be.

Do I worry that my novel will end up owing too much to these other authors? That my voice will be drowned out? No. I'm on my guard against it, for one thing. And it's good for my writer's ear, I think, to hear other voices than my own.

But what do other writers think? How do you complete the circle, when you're writing something new? What rituals and charms do you put in place, to stay focused in the right way?

Bin around the block

2010-04-23T17:20:00.012+01:00

Yesterday I was lucky enough to spend time with a good friend of mine, a great writer who's worked in Hollywood, among other places. I've always found his company inspiring. Yesterday we talked about Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy, Marilyn Monroe reading Molly Bloom's soliloquy, the Scottish tradition of pedantic prose, and the 'sharpening pencils' stage of writing.

'There's no such thing as writer's block,' my friend said. 'There's just bad ideas.'

You know, I think he's onto something. If an idea fails to grip you as a writer, you will find it hard to write, just as you will if it's too slippery or evasive to pin down. We usually prefer to blame our own procasination or laziness rather than admit it's not a good idea. Sometimes we cannot see it's a bad idea until we've written it through, put it down in black and white. But if we're making lots of excuses along the way, to avoid the writing of it, the chances are it's just not a good enough idea. Bin it, and move on?

This has been my personal experience recently. I was struggling with an idea, telling myself I lacked the self-discipline or the time to work on it. Making excuses not to write. Then I had a better idea - one that feels a thousand times clearer and brighter - and I'm having no trouble at all. When I'm not actually writing it, I'm thinking about it, I'm researching and making notes but I'm not avoiding the task ahead of me (I know what avoidance feels like, so I can say this with certainty). And it has at its heart a genuinely good idea. A small nugget that means a huge amount. The idea is good enough for me to see just what was at fault with the previous idea, where its weakness lay.

I wasn't blocked; I was in need of a better idea. Thank goodness I found one.

And cut

2010-04-20T13:12:00.006+01:00

Once upon a time, not so very long ago, the BBC made grown-up television dramas that used a scheduling formula which allowed, roughly, an hour per episode. This was because the BBC, unlike all other UK television channels, did not carry advertising.

Now the BBC has long been in the business of selling its dramas overseas, with mixed success. A few years ago, this policy became more aggressive; they got better at it, started making serious money from the sales of rights or - more usually - the formulas for shows like Life on Mars.

Serious money. So much of it that now the BBC appears to be deploying a scheduling formula which specifically accommodates the advert breaks preferred in countries like the USA, where TV dramas live or die by their ability to attract and retain advertising. Advert breaks aren't necessarily the enemy of TV shows, but ask any ITV producer who's seen his or her audience flip channels in an ad break and never return, and he/she will tell you - you'd better give your audience a damn good reason to return at the end of the ads, or to endure attempts to be sold Maltesers and car insurance while waiting to find out whodunnit or whowonit.

Which brings me to the editing in the current series of Ashes to Ashes. The odd stop-start, cliff-hanger-every-six-minutes style of the show, so different to the original Life on Mars. Why? Because they're selling the show to networks that have to give airtime to advertisers, that have to prove to advertisers that the show can sit comfortably as a showcase around the screentime the advertiser is purchasing?

This is not a rant. It's an observation. Watch any episode at random from the early series of Spooks, or Life on Mars. Then watch a recent episode. It's not, as I first thought, about the shifting age demographic and the notion of attention-deficit-programming. Or not only that. It's about breaking a show into chunks around which audiences can become the consumers needed to finance the networks who are broadcasting the shows.

It's not a rant but I do think it's a shame. Good TV drama, like a good book, has its own pace, its own rhythm. It should build, in layers, over time. Not panic and pant its way to conclusions against the clock.

If anyone reading this has the inside story, please share?

Too Much Happiness

2010-04-19T07:34:00.006+01:00

My review of this latest collection from Alice Munro is up at Critical Literature Review today. Please, if you've read the collection, shed light on the notes at the end of Wenlock's Edge for me. I'd be very grateful.

"a Munro-patented confusion of conflicting emotions that draw their credibility and their power from exactly that confusion"

Fish One-Page Prize, and Beautiful Blogging

2010-04-18T08:20:00.011+01:00

First, many thanks to Jen at Writer in the Wilderness, who nominated this blog for a Beautiful Blogger Award. I'll attempt seven interesting facts about myself after sharing the jolly news that my two entries to the Fish One-Page Prize have both been shortlisted. And I almost didn't enter anything for this prize this year! Results on 30 April, yikes, but I'm happy just to have got this far. Now for the interesting facts...

1. Circa 1975, my school was on TV in a children's pop show hosted by Ed "Stewpot" Stewart called 'Give us a song' or something like that. My one and only TV appearance.

2. I hail from the part of Northern England where Alan Garner wrote his stories of wizards, which is now over-run by WAGs.

3. Linked to fact #2, at the age of six, I ran away from home for half a day with my older brother, to one of the old caves inhabited in Garner's stories by wizards. I spent some time sheltering in a cave during a thunderstorm while my brother 'foraged for food'. The rain put us off, however, and we trudged home with our tails between our legs.

4. My Great-Great-Grandfather worked in India and vanity-published a book of poetry, which I look at from time to time, wondering about my writerly heritage. It is possibly the reason I have never tried my hand at poetry.

5. Linked to fact #3, several of my Great-Great-Aunts were half-Indian and I have distant relatives living in India today.

6. I worked for a short while at ELLE magazine when Sally Brampton was Editor.

7. I've been on a nuclear submarine, and once spent the night in Prince Andrew's room.

I'm nominating the following for a Beautiful Blogger Award:

Gay Degani Words in Place
black white bliss
Wild Writing the Edge

Solva, sun and plotting

2010-04-12T14:59:00.003+01:00

I'm just back from the best holiday ever in Wales (St Bride's Bay, Solva, St David's), sea and sun and sleep. I feel better than I have in months. Does anyone here know Solva? I didn't, before this holiday. A tiny working harbour where you can eat freshly caught lobster and crab, buy beautiful pottery and rugs, or just walk until the harbour beach meets the sea, at sunset.

It was in Solva, and on its neighbouring beaches (including the spectacular Druidston Haven which has a waterfall at one end), that I ruminated on the new novel, plotted a lot of it and began to feel it getting under my skin.

The chief sensation I have at the moment is of holding a fledging bird in the hollow of my hand. I must take great care not to crush it. I know roughly what I must do to see it thrive. I'm marvelling at its fragility (and mine), and its power (and mine).

Hurray for holidays! So, how the heck are all of you?

Friend or foe?

2010-04-01T07:13:00.007+01:00

I started writing something new yesterday. It wasn't what I intended to write yesterday. It was the start of a novel I was excited about writing, oh, about three years ago. What I wrote (1,000 word opening scene) wasn't in the style I would have chosen, three years ago. It was better. It might even be pretty good. Am I excited about it, however? No. Instead I am vaguely anxious about continuing with it, even opening the word document and looking at what I wrote yesterday. I feel as if my equilibirum has been unsettled. Threatened.

This isn't what I planned to write, when I was able to return to writing full-time. I had a plan, for goodness sake! I had notes - reams and reams of notes - character studies and character arcs. I knew where I was headed with it. This new thing? The cuckoo in my writer's nest? (Or is it a stork?) I have next to nothing. A one-page synopsis I wrote three years ago, to structure the story in my mind. No character studies. No plot, as such. No notes!! Just this threatening... itch. This idea that I could write this and it could be good, better than what I had planned.

Trouble with an itch? You scratch it, it might go away. Or flare up into something horrid.

Shouldn't I be wildly excited about writing something new? Isn't that a vital ingredient? Or, at least, hug-myself-in-secret excited?

I do feel just like a mother bird, who returns to her nest to hatch her egg and finds someone else's egg there instead. Should I settle and see what hatches? That's what happens in nature, yes?

Has anyone else ever experienced this sense of feeling threatened by what they're writing? Is it a danger sign? Should I step away, or hang around for what happens next?

Added: Usually at this time on a sunny morning, I am writing to the sound of seagulls outside. This morning, it's wood pigeons, and blackbirds.

My week in words

2010-03-26T10:20:00.003Z

Thank you to everyone who sent kind wishes and congratulations on the Sense Award, including Pat Jourdan, an Irish writer whose stories I love and reviewed here. Even Pat's emails are wonderfully written: 'Dear Sarah - hooray! This is how life ought to be, writing doing something for other people AND the writer being celebrated. Congratulations. And Miriam Margolyes has such a gritty-with-honey voice too. These bright milestones (well, they do certainly gleam in the sunlight) make up for all the other times when we think we are mad to be going on writing.'

Kristie Lagone, editor of Literary Fever, Brian Lister at Biscuit Publishing, Ra Page at Comma Press and Roland Goity at LITnIMAGE all sent warm words, too. Not to mention friends and family. (My mother's so proud and I'm not too old to appreciate the pleasure of having made her feel that way.)

Today, I'm restarting my full-time life as a writer. For six months I've worked hard elsewhere, but today it all begins again. Writing, full-time. It gives me courage and makes me glad, to know that so many people share in this adventure - and so generously. And now, as Pat Jourdan says, 'Back to the drawing-board with you for more.'

Miriam Margolyes reads my story - now with audio link!

2010-03-23T20:28:00.001Z

Click here for MP3 audio file

Miriam Margolyes reads my story!

2010-03-20T18:46:00.007Z

The most exciting news from last week: I attended the Sense Creative Awards at the Geffyre Museum in London on Thursday. Sense is the UK's leading deafblind charity and the Awards celebrate writing by the deafblind as well as writing about the condition. I was privileged to hear some inspirational pieces written by the most amazing children and adults. Miriam Margolyes read various extracts - and the whole of my shortlisted story, A Shanty for Sawdust and Cotton.

Without exception this was the most thrilling experience of my writing life to date. Miriam is a terrific actress and didn't so much read as perform my story, wonderfully. I had goosebumps as I listened. To hear her announce I was the winner was... just so special. When I thanked her for reading so wonderfully, she said, 'Thank you for writing it so wonderfully,' and my day was complete. Such an amazing award to win, a real honour. I feel blessed.

Sense's PR team are hard at work already, sending a press release to the local media in which they quote Miriam as saying, 'My work is about bringing to life the words on a page. These are powerful words that speak volumes about the very difficult challenges that deafblind people face every day. There’s a compelling quality that draws in the reader and gives voice to these challenges.'

The event was filmed and I've been promised an MP3 audio file of Miriam's reading, which I will post here in due course. For now, colour me very, very happy.

What's your strategy?

2010-02-06T20:34:00.007Z

It's that time of year when some of the biggest writing contests open for entries including, of course, the Bridport Prize (accepting flash fiction for the first time). Then there are impending deadlines for the Fish One Page Prize, the Bristol Short Story Prize, and then Exeter, Yeovil - the list goes on. All of which has me thinking: what's your strategy for deciding which contests to enter and what influences that process?

Do you, for instance, consider the odds?If you're a newish writer do you tend to enter smaller contests and build up to the bigger ones? If so, I admire your pragmatism; I could never resist jumping straight to the big fish (in this case Fish itself, where I got lucky in 2008).

Bridport is a longer shot than ever with a 40% increase in entries for 2009: 17,000 entries, including poetry! I wonder, was this the result of Ali Smith's judging role, or could it be that the exchange rate made Fish seem more expensive than ever to enter? (Terrific prize money, of course.) To what extent does the entry fee affect your decision to submit to a certain contest? At all? Somewhat? Only in relation to the prize money?

Does the choice of judge make a contest more (or less) attractive? Does it influence your decision at all? I know I've sometimes thought (no doubt wrongly) that a particular judge may or may not like my writing because of the impression I have of the judge's own writing, or taste.

I also wonder how far the marketing of a contest matters, in the scheme of things. There are some amazing sources out there - I'm thinking in particular of Sally Quilford's Writing Competitions Calendar - but what else should contest organisers do to attract entries? Does it help when the judges blog about what they like? When contests offer a critiquing service (usually at an extra cost)?

I'd love to know what other writers think about this subject. Is entering contests a big part of your writing life? It was a huge part of mine a couple of years back, but now I've drawn my horns in (partly because entry fees add up, partly because I'm taking longer to polish stories). Do share!

Little Episodes

2010-01-26T06:46:00.004Z

Here's an important thing: a venue that supports people living with depression. Little Episodes exists to 'help de-stigmatise depression and promote compassion and understanding', and is supported by Mind, and by the Little, Brown book group, among others. Check out their website as they are doing some amazing things, with some significant talent. I especially like the K's artwork. I was touched and honoured to have a story chosen for their next anthology, Back in 5 Minutes, which will be launched in London in February. They are open for submissions all year round, and invite artists, writers and creatives to send material here.

Sense Creative Writing Awards

2010-01-22T06:37:00.006Z

I've been on a couple of shortlists lately, but this one is special. Sense is a charity that campaigns on behalf of deafblind people. In March this year they will host an award ceremony at the Geffrye Museum where Miriam Margolyes will read excerpts from the winning stories. I've been shortlisted in the category, 'writing by any individual on the subject of deafblindness', for my story, A Shanty for Sawdust and Cotton. There are four awards for writing by deafblind people, and I'm excited to hear the winning pieces.

Happy St Hilary's Day!

2010-01-13T17:16:00.005Z

Reputedly the coldest day of the year, and a time for feasting on a Roman scale. I'm all for that while this pesky snow lasts. I feel I should celebrate as 'Hilary' is my adopted pen-name. I took it in memory of my Great-Aunt, who was born Edna Hill but was known to all her friends as Hilary. I never knew her, but I've read her letters to my Great-Uncles, including one that begins, 'Dearest Chucky, when will you gladden my eyes with the sight of you?'

Hilary was elder sister to my grandfather, Stan Hill, who died in Batu Lintang POW camp. After the war, Hilary emigrated to America, where she was headmistress of Nightingale Bamford School in New York. She married a New Yorker, Basil, Robillard, and they lived a rare old life from all accounts, in an apartment on East 92nd Street, members of the Cosmopolitan Club and a dashing pair about town until poor Hilary was diagnosed with cancer, from which she suffered for a long time before dying in her early fifties.

Here's to Great-Aunt Hilary, and to feasting.

The heart of a story

2010-01-06T06:20:00.005Z

Happy New Year! I'm late to the party, but I've been enjoying catching up with people's resolutions, all of which seem very sane and sensible. Realism is the order of the day, as I've been reading around. Who says creative people have their heads in the clouds? In fact that's probably one of the silliest myths about artists of any kind. Who gets their hands dirtier with the messy business of life than artists, of every kind? But this isn't a rant. It's a celebration. Of stamina and staying-power and sheer bloodymindedness.

Over the past few weeks and months I've come closer than I've been in ten years to giving up 'this dream of writing'. Not that it has ever felt like a dream. Ref my earlier point about mess. Then I spent a few quiet hours with some great books (I'm reading more of Alice Munro, and discovering Raymond Carver), and in my own company, asking myself questions (gently, rather than the interrogative, reproachful angle I tend to take) and I reached a conclusion that's helping me find my focus again. I'd strayed too far from the heart of what I was trying to do. In a couple of specific cases I'd been trying to tell a story from entirely the wrong perspective, in the wrong way.

I knew these were good stories, but I was beginning to think I was not the person to be telling them. Well, over the last three days I've written a clean draft of one of these - a short story that's been part of my life for years, to which I feel a debt that was probably putting too much pressure on my instinct as an artist, skewing my approach to it. I've written a clean draft and I think it's good. Too soon to say that for sure, but what I can say is that it's the closest I've come so far to telling the heart of this story in the way it deserves to be told.

In addition to this I've got a little project going on which is just a tickle at this stage but a very exciting one. I feel like a writer again, and it feels good.

Cheshire Literature Prize

2009-12-29T19:12:00.005Z

It took my Christmas-fuddled brain a while to work out the meaning of the lovely letter from the Judging Panel Chair at the Cheshire Literature Prize but my entry was one of the top 25 shortlisted from over 260 entries and, as such, will be published in the Prize Anthology. The winners was Tessa Sheridan - congratulations, Tessa! - whose story lends its name to the anthology title, Zoo. I'm chuffed to have made the shortlist for this prize for those with a connection to Cheshire. I was born and raised there, before leaving to do my degree down South. But I'm a Northerner by nature, and I love to write in a Northern voice when the story suits, a silly example being this nifty flash. My paternal grandmother was a Lancashire lass, whose father owned a meat and potato pie shop in Bolton, the earnings from which paid for a whole street of houses, named Meat and Potato Row. That's Northern royalty for you. In fact my grandmother (golly, would Alan Bennett have loved to spend just ten minutes listening to her talk about her neighbours) was the basis for the main character in the shortlisted story. A tribute I like to think she'd have enjoyed. God bless you, Nan-Nan.

Merry Christmas

2009-12-24T06:32:00.003Z

It's been a funny old year, hasn't it? But, hey, there's a whole new decade waiting around the corner. I'm told we must call it Twenty-Ten and not Two Thousand and Ten. Is this correct? In which case why aren't we right now in Twenty-Nine? Or are we? Dear me, these things are tricky. In any event, thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this blog and to comment and to read my stories when I link to these. I hope you have wonderful Merry Christmases, and that the new decade brings everything you hope and wish for.

Love is a Colour, Green is a Taste

2009-12-10T06:03:00.015Z

I'm flashing at Pindeldyboz today, with this piece I wrote a while ago. Love is a Colour, Green is a Taste is... a little kinky, with a twist at the end, but it feels seasonal for some reason. By way of complete contrast, Water's Edge, is at EDF today. A sad story but uplifting, I hope. Grateful for all comments, as always.

Wouldn't it be lovely if this rain turned to snow?

2009-12-08T06:15:00.008Z

I know, I know. It would be lovely for about three hours and then I'd be complaining about how to climb the hill for my latte. But some of you are lucky enough to have the first snow of Winter already (and did you see the photos of Babbacombe last week?) so it's time for me to break out my seasonal joke. It's surreal, almost Dali-esque. I first heard it from a six year old.

Q. What did one snowman say to the other?

A. "Can you smell carrots?"