World War Z by Max Brooks reviewed by Steve Voyce

Max Brooks is the son of Mel Brooks and Anne Bancroft and he honed his craft working as a writer on Saturday Night Live, which is as good a place as any to start as a writer. His second book, World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War (to give it it’s proper title), was first published in 2006, and tells the story of a global war against zombies by using a series of oral interviews conducted by a narrator, who is part of the United Nations Postwar Commission. It is the follow-up to Brooks’ 2003 novel, The Zombie Survival Guide.

Firstly, an admission: I’m not one for fantasy novels. I drew the line after Dracula and Frankenstein, and I’m happy to say I’ve never been near Twilight. And I’m also not a big fan of disaster novels either (I’m not going to say post-apocalyptic as technically you don’t get post- an apocalypse).

I loved Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, but it was so harrowing I promised myself, as the father of a young son, I’d never read it again. I’ve also never read a comic book. But I’ve fallen for the TV series, The Walking Dead, so when my wife read World War Z, she told me I might enjoy it and should give it a go.

I think in some ways we’re all drawn to the idea of a global disaster that would test us individually and as a species. There’s perhaps something messianic in us that makes us feel that we could be the chosen ones, the survivors, and these stories help us live it out. World War Z can work as a companion piece to Walking Dead, a sort of what-happened-before, if you like, but it also stands alone.

World War Z’s story of a zombie pandemic, begins with tales of “patient zero” and outbreaks of the misunderstood “African Rabies”, through to the effect the plague has on individuals, nations and the planet as a whole, told through the words of survivors, be they politicians, soldiers, astronauts, or regular people. We trace the outbreak, the denial, the cover-ups, the quarantines, the deaths, the migrations, the wars that are a by-product of the pandemic and finally the “defeat” of the zombies and the subsequent new world order that is the result of the global upheaval. Brooks has taken on a huge task and has used an interesting narrative ploy (the multiple interviewees) to tell his story. On the whole I think he is successful.

The idea of a species threatening global pandemic is nothing new, and neither are zombies. So Brooks’ approach, to focus on the tales of the survivors, is an original take. It enables him to cover a whole trope of ideas and wax lyrically on such matters as government ineptitude, corporate corruption, and human short-sightedness, while always keeping the living dead lurking in the background (and often the foreground); a lurching virus that exists to kill and can only be stopped by being, literally, lobotomized.

Brooks manages to make mass-migration to the South Pacific, an oil field beneath Windsor Castle, a war between Iran and Pakistan and the rise of a Russian Christian Empire – amongst other plot points – sound as realistic as he does the initial reactions to the plague and the way that resourceful humans finally deal with it and its repercussions. He has a good ear for dialogue and internal monologue as well as the technological, cultural, economical and political issues that the story throws up.

There has been criticism of the novel as some feel the different narrative strands (some last for many pages, others are little more than a paragraph) make it difficult to develop momentum. But I feel that they’ve missed the point, as there seems to be an unwritten agreement between author and reader that we understand what he is trying to achieve and that we need to go with him and fill in the blanks ourselves, to notice and imagine what is going on at the edges of his snippets of stories, that we can understand what has happened, or will happen, without it being spelt out to us.

I did enjoy this book, it was good entertainment and escapism, and from a creative-writing point of view it shows some good technique; as mentioned above, Brooks employs showing-not-telling to great effect, with his second-hand narration we’re never really shown directly the linear story, instead we dip in and out from various points of view, receive good and bad reports and the opinions of reliable and unreliable narrators. I liked this technique and thought that on the whole, it worked.

World War Z is not a literary masterpiece, but an interesting read that should appeal to fans of the genre and general readers alike.

The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad reviewed by Steve Voyce

The cover of my copy of The Secret Agent shows an illustration of turn-of-the-century London at twilight in winter with lights just beginning to show on the buildings and bridges and skeletal trees black against the grey winter sky. This is a story wrapped in the cold fog of a winter’s day, with all its gloom and mystery, deep in the dark streets of late-Victorian London.

Published in 1906, but set twenty years earlier, with most of Europe in fear – real or imagined – of socialists, anarchists, Russians, Germans, Jews and countless others, we see trouble lurking around every corner and trust no one. This was a time when assassination attempts were made on the French President, and – successfully – the Russian Tsar, and bombs were exploded in capital cities, including London, and Conrad brings his own brand of journalistically observed fiction to these issues.

The Victorian London that Conrad paints so vividly feels astonishingly familiar and contemporary: A Conservative government justifying its new Aliens Bill, extremist groups placing agent provocateurs among the population and suicide bombers controlled by shady puppeteers. The Secret Agent is a brutal depiction of the absurdities and futilities of people and the deceitful institutions that some serve. It is often comic and always thought provoking.

However the true tragedy of this story lies at its core, with the domestic drama that is the family life of the protagonist, Mr Verloc, the secret agent of the title and self-proclaimed anarchist. When the façade of his marriage is torn asunder by a shockingly violent act, he and his family are altered for good, and the true nature of his “business” comes home to roost. Throughout Conrad successfully juggles the various threads of his story, managing to say as much about the human condition as he does world politics and the brainless violence of conflict.

Despite once in a while slipping into one too many Victorianisms for this reader, Conrad really gets into the heads of his subjects and manages the enviable task of creating each one equally as sad, familiar, attractive and, ultimately, human as one another, independent of which side of the blurred legal line they sit on. He ratchets up the tension when necessary and twists the story to keep the reader on the edge of his seat, cumulating in a climax I didn’t see coming. Conrad also has created a really strong female character, Winnie Verloc, a rarity for a male author of those times.

The Secret Agent is an interesting and compelling read, a real page-turner that demonstrates good characterization, plotting and old-fashioned story-telling and feels both of its time and timeless simultaneously. It is probably not Conrad’s best book, but it’s at least as good as many by his contemporaries that are regarded as classics. And beyond that, The Secret Agent blazed a trail for the copious spy, thriller and crime novels that would become ubiquitous during the following century.

The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler reviewed by Steve Voyce

The first time I laid eyes on The Long Goodbye was twenty-odd years ago, somewhere in the north-western suburbs of London, on a warm day with a cloudy look of rain on the horizon. I broke the silver-coloured spine and gulped the book down in close to one day and it was the damnedest thing that I had read in a long time. Philip Marlowe, Chandler’s erstwhile private detective, had been my guide previously through The Big Sleep and Farewell, My Lovely, but this story poked me in the teeth and socked me in the cranium.

There are detective novels and detective novels, if you walk through an airport bookshop its almost a joke nowadays. All of them have their points. There are the Victorian potboilers that straight-arm you with twists. The tweed-wrapped forensic puzzles that lurk in country-house corridors. There are the detective novels that emerge out of a downtown fog and leave you feeling like a hot shower. There are the ones that crack open a rib-cage, that strip out the veins, that saw off the top of a skull like a boiled egg – the kind of book that revolts and intrigues you in equal measures. There are those that chase you all over a European capital, teasing you with talk of God and mystery before racing off to pocket that huge royalty. And there’s the showpiece detective novel that outlasts us all, with its sharply drawn hero, intriguing plot and voice as clear as mountain air.

The Long Goodbye is none of these, it’s a novel packed full of charm and style and wit and pace and a sense of time and place, with a plot more direct that anything that Chandler had written for Marlowe previously. It sizzles through its tale of friendship and loyalty and honour, crackling like thunder with a passion unseen before in Chandler’s work.

Marlowe walks the mean streets and golden hills of Hollywood wrapped in the irony of both his disgust at the failings of the human race and his romantic opinion that everyone, and anyone, can be saved. He is our hero, our knight, as much a protector of those that society has discarded as a persecutor of those who twist it for their own ends. He will lose his personality in the felony cell so as not to renege on a friendship, but he wont take advantage of the disturbed wife of a man he dislikes; he’ll stand up to a multi-millionaire who could squash him like a fly before committing adultery with the millionaire’s daughter.

At the novel’s beating heart is the story of three men and three women: an (autobiographical) alcoholic writer who is supposed to understand what makes people tick, but doesn’t understand a thing about anybody; a strange, pampered, empty, war-veteran, torn between the dark and the light; and Marlowe, the unlikely and unwilling hero, a man for whom trouble is his line of work; and an heiress with five ex-husbands who all married her for much more than her money; the wife of the writer dragged down by the weight of her past; and a woman who may be the one to save Marlowe.

But ultimately this is the story of money, the kind of money that buys everything, that insulates and protects, but also the kind of money that cannot hide the futility and emptiness of life.

The Long Goodbye drinks a gimlet in an oak-paneled bar in early evening, waits alone in a darkened office for a phone call that will never come, is as out of place in a joint like this as a pearl onion in a banana split, and knows that to say goodbye is to die a little. With its turn of phrase, wit and reflection it is much more than a simple whodunit.

In all its sordid, bruised, hard-boiled, cool, beauty The Long Goodbye is the greatest of Chandler’s enviable canon, gritty with brutality and metaphor, and is in my humble opinion the best crime novel ever written, and one of the best books of the twentieth, or any, century.  They really don’t write them like this anymore.

Inherent Vice by Thomas Pynchon reviewed by Steve Voyce

I didn’t like this book. Not at all and I’m hugely disappointed.

Going in, Inherent Vice felt like something that I should love – a noir detective story set at the end of the 60’s in South California. I should have lapped it up. But I didn’t. It actually made me feel tired when reading it – not a good review for a thriller.

I’ve never read any of Mr Pynchon’s books before and I doubt I’ll be reading another. I struggled to get to the end of this one. It was tough going. It should have been textbook stuff: Grizzly private eye, femme fatale, conspiracies, murder… But Pynchon’s style, tone and story-telling are so heavy handed and tricksy that one soon tires of the plot and the characters. Not even the odd amusing line or bright metaphor can pull you back. This should have been a book about light and shade, about the tough shell of life and the soft underbelly of existence. It should have revealed the 60’s era of freedom and experimentation for what it really was, but instead it’s head-scratchingly dull and confusing.

This is a novel that lumbers under the weight of it’s own concept. Setting a noir thriller in the fudgy, selfish, self-centred late days of the 60’s counter-culture is a great idea for a novel. Unfortunately this isn’t that novel. For a start, Pynchon has too many characters: a revolving door of Wodehousesian-names (Ensenada Slim, Flaco the Bad, Dr. Buddy Tubeside, Petunia Leeway, Jason Velveeta, Scott Oof ) race in and back out again, and I found myself turning back pages to double-check who-was-who. Most of them weren’t even integral to the plot so just served as extra floss on an already overcrowded stage.

This confusion was not aided by having the main character called “Doc” and an important secondary character “the Doctor”.  Surely someone at the publishers ought to have called this one out?

And a plot that attempts to juggle this amount of characters is always going to be too complicated. Complex plots can be a good thing, especially in modern thrillers, but the writer needs to reign himself in and remember that just because he knows what’s happening, it doesn’t mean that his readers will. He can have fun, but not at their expense. After about fifty or so pages, everything just merged into one muddy background.

What more, I found myself not caring about what was going to happen (or whodunit) and certainly not giving a hoot about the amount of drugs and free love on show. This appears to be Pynchon’s cornerstone of his narrative – it’s a book about the 60s after all… But it isn’t big and it isn’t clever. And it’s certainly not original.

Not one of the characters is remotely likeable, not even the protagonist. Without a detective to root for and hold the whole thing together, any mystery or thriller is doomed to fail. We need a hero to cheer for, to connect with, to want to win. In Raymond Chandler’s essay on detective fiction, he says that the best fiction detective needs to be a white knight; he can be a loner and he can be outside of society, but he must be a moral man, a man who walks the mean streets “the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world.” I feel Pynchon should have been aware of and taken heed to these words.

Later this year, a movie version of this book is due for release, directed by Paul Thomas Anderson. I’m not a huge fan of his work, but wait with interest to see what he does with this source material. Maybe a film adaptation is what it needs. For once I hope that the film is nothing like the book.

Inky interview with Carol Fragale Brill by Kate Foster

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Today, we welcome author Carol Fragale Brill to the Ink Pantry shelves.

Hi Carol, thank you so much for joining us. Please begin the interview by telling us a little bit about you and your background.

Always top of my gratitude list is my wonderful husband, Jim, our happy marriage, and living in beautiful, Victorian, Cape May, NJ.

I grew up in Philadelphia and lived there until about eighteen years ago when we achieved a lifelong dream to move “down the shore” as we say in Jersey. I started writing creatively right after becoming a “Jersey girl”. Writing has never been my “day” job. I am a “sort-of-retired”Human Resources Leader, Coach, and Educator.

Was English a subject that interested you as a child? Were books and reading a part of growing up for you? Can you recall what books you liked reading or if any made a dramatic impact on your life? 

My love affair with books started with Grimm’s Fairy tales when I was four or five. I joined my first book club when I was about ten – the Vacation Reading Club at the local library. I went faithfully every week, even though I could never convince any of my friends to join. As a teen, I cried for a week after reading A Separate Piece and To Kill a Mockingbird. And I adored a book about Helen Keller’s teacher, Anne Sullivan. I think it was titled Light a Single Candle. It must be out of print, because I’ve searched for it and can’t find it.

Did you always want to write, or did you perhaps know one day you would? Can you recall when and how your interest in writing originated? Did you study creative writing or have you “learnt on the job”?

I was always drawn to books and writing. As a child and young adult, I kept a diary, had pen pals, wrote long newsy letters to friends away at college and in the service. It took until I was twenty-something to realize I wanted to write a book and another twenty-something years to join a writing group and get started. After attending many conferences and workshops, I returned to school part-time to earn my MFA in Creative Writing.

Please tell us a little about both Peace by Piece and Cape Maybe.

My first novel, Peace by Piece is about love in all its many forms – friendships, family, unshakeable first love, and the tender love between the narrator, Maggie, and a motherless little girl. I am an avid reader of women’s fiction and rarely see realistic heroines dealing with anorexia or bulimia. I felt women were ready and would relate to a character grappling with real life and an eating disorder.

Cape Maybe is set in Victorian Cape May and is shaped by feisty, adolescent Katie’s vow to be nothing like her alcoholic mother. Katie’s reckless teenage choices test the strength of family ties, friendship and first love. Ultimately about hard-earned hope, in Cape Maybe, Katie discovers what she never expected about motherhood, forgiving yourself, and creating your own second chances.

How much research and preparation went in to them before you even began writing? Can you offer any advice to those currently in the midst of researching a new novel?

You often hear writers say “Write what you know”. There are themes of addiction in both novels. Like many families, when you shake my family tree, a few alcoholics and food addicts fall out, so mostly I wrote about addictions based on experience. Both novels are are set in time periods and locations I know, so there wasn’t much research related to time or place. Before starting, I developed detailed character bibles including specifics about childhood experiences and friends, family, hobbies, desires, etc.

My early drafts of Peace by Piece included a lot of backstory – stuff I needed to know to get Maggie’s story right that ultimately didn’t belong in the novel. That meant lots of cuts and rewrites. My best advice to beginning novelists is have a trusted writing critique group and share work regularly. I have found the feedback of other writer’s invaluable to help me trim the fat and find the real story.

How long did it take to write each book? Did you have a schedule or a plan you worked to, or did you write when inspiration hit? Were there any moments during the process that you found particularly difficult?

Since writing wasn’t my “day” job, I had to fit writing time in around a very demanding fifty-plus-hour a week career. Luckily, my husband is incredibly supportive and helped me balance stuff at home. I approached writing like a part-time job and committed to writing at least four or five hours a day EVERY day off. I also got up at least an hour early most weekdays to edit and do other writing related tasks before heading out to work. It is hard to say how long it all took because I rewrote both novels numerous times. Peace by Piece was in the works, off and on, for about ten years. Cape Maybe was my creative thesis for my MFA and took five or six years while I juggled school and my career. Whew!

Please tell us how and why you chose to self-publish your books? Did you pursue the traditional route first of all, or did you always know self-publishing was the right path for you? Did you experience a similar journey to the bookshelf with each, or were they entirely different? 

When I started writing Peace by Piece, self-publishing wasn’t the kind of option it is today. My original plan was to go the traditional route. I queried many agents and twice was offered representation. For reasons that had nothing to do with me or my books, neither agent worked out. As self-publishing became more accessible, I decided to take that route. The Peace by Piece journey was definitely harder because I was a newbie with so much to learn.

How has the experience been for you so far? Did you use an editor or proof reader, or any other professional person to assist you? Can you share with us any tried and tested methods that have worked for you? And maybe some that haven’t? How has your choice of self-publishing been received? Have you found readers, writers and family and friends to be supportive?

One of my absolute tried and tested methods is to have the support of other writers who will give useful, constructive feedback. Critique is not always easy to give or receive. To become the best writer I can be, it’s priceless.

I hired a professional editor and proof-reader. I cannot tell you how much I learned about the craft of writing working with a professional editor – and that was after I had an MFA.

My husband, family, and friends have been wonderful. Readers inspire and often humble and thrill me asking for sequels.

How have you found the marketing and promotion side of being a self-published writer? Has your quest for readers and reviewers been easy? Do you have any tips for new writers considering self-publishing their novel?

Just like writing, marketing and promotion are hard work. My best advice is start before your book is published. One of the reasons I published Cape Maybe soon after Peace by Piece was to get more mileage out of my efforts by using one book to promote the other. I also took advantage of Kindle Free Days and Countdowns with Cape Maybe. It was a lot of work to notify the numerous sites that offer free-day listings. It proved worth the effort when thousands of downloads resulted in Cape Maybe ranked #1 best-seller.

Before publishing, I was told “You MUST have a blog, be on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Instagram, Pinterest…” the list goes on. At first, I tried doing it all and spread myself too thin. My advice is to pick a few sites that you enjoy and put in the time to develop a presence and relationships.

I’ve also had success with local libraries, regional bookstores, and other retail outlets. It helps that tourists are attracted to Cape Maybe because it is set in Cape May.

One of my favourite marketing and promotion activities is visiting book clubs and community group functions like annual luncheons. Readers are so insightful and ask great questions. I would love to hear from Ink Pantry readers if you have a book club or community group, and want to explore an in person or virtual visit.

Because I am also a coach and educator, I often teach writing and creativity workshops, which also helps to promote my books.

Negative reviews affect every writer at some stage of their career. How has this affected you? How did you deal with these reviews?

I learned in my years as a Human Resources leader and coach that no one likes negative feedback. I don’t love it either. When it’s constructive, I do my best to learn from it. Mostly, I try to focus on the positive reviews which far outweigh the few negative reviews. Different people have different tastes. I sometimes don’t love a book that is getting rave reviews from others. I accept the same is true about my books.

Do you write anything else: novellas, short stories, blogs, poetry?

Lately, I’m writing mostly short essays and articles. I’ve blogged for a few years, and just started a new blog Know Hope Know Growth.

My first blog was a collaborative effort with three other women writers. You can check out my posts at: http://www.4broadminds.blogspot.com/search/label/Carol

Do you have a favourite book /s or author /s? What kind of book do you like to relax with? Is there an author who has inspired you more than any others?

I have so many favourites and have been inspired by countless authors – Adrianna Trigiani, Sue Monk Kidd, Michelle Richmond, Sue Miller, Sara Gruen, Ann Packer, Lisa Genova – the list is endless.

If not a writer, what would have been your dream career? Do you have any secret talents you can share with us?

I am very lucky that after years of being a Human Resources Generalist, basically doing it all, I had the opportunity to follow my passion and move into my dream job in Coaching and Training. It is such a gift to do work you love and give back.

And finally, do you have any other works in progress or new ideas you’re working on? Are you able to tell us a little about them?

In early summer of 2014, I was diagnosed with uterine cancer. Eight months of treatment including surgery, chemo, and radiation followed. That experience got me revaluating how to spend my writing time, and my time in general, which is part of the reason that, for now, I’m focused on personal essays and blogs.

Thank you so much for joining us today, Carol. We at Ink Pantry wish you lots of luck with your books, and, of course, your future projects.

If you would like to learn more about Carol and follow her writing journey, here are some links that will help.

Facebook

Goodreads

Amazon

 

 

 

 

Sheer Purgatory by Robert Carter reviewed by Kev Milsom

 

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Excuse me,” Dan said, “but there really must be some mistake. You see, I can’t go down there; I’m an atheist.”

“Yeah?” The scrawny steward’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, I bet you feel like a right idiot now, then, don’t you?”

Most authors writing anything that focuses upon the “afterlife” – and on what happens to us after the point of physical demise – tend to pose a wide variety of “what if?” questions:

What if there is no heaven? What if there IS a heaven but they won’t let me in? What if God doesn’t really exist?

Within Robert Carter’s book, Sheer Purgatory, the two most pertinent questions are perhaps somewhat more unusual. First, “What if our safety on Earth was monitored at all times by guardian angels, who watched out for our every move and ensured that we get to live a rich and fulfilling life?” And second, “What if our guardian angel was a disastrous mix, whose abilities lay somewhere between Laurel & Hardy and Mr Bean?”

For poor Dan Trench – a man whose career is solely to clean and look after the lottery balls every week, thus earning him the unfortunate title “Keeper of the Balls” from his colleagues –  this last scenario is sadly all too true. Thus, a life, destined to last a contented eighty-three years and end with a serene passing, ends up rather messily under the wheels of a number twelve London bus aged only twenty-five – due in no small part to his guardian angel getting hopelessly lost and missing his cue to avert Dan from a nasty demise.

For the angel, named Vic, it is one mistake too many (in a very long line of mishaps) and his wings are clipped by higher authorities, probably offering many further humans the chance of long and happy lives. However, for Dan, the damage is done and his day is utterly ruined.  Not only does he not get to meet his girlfriend for dinner, but he finds himself thoroughly dead, with no chance to squeeze back into his body.

Worse still, the very, very long queue for heaven takes place not amongst Utopian clouds ascending upwards into a shining funnel of wondrous light, but rather in an underground tube station, the size of several Heathrow Airports – complete with angelic staff who seem determined to be abrasive and awkward at every turn, such as the archaic administrators at the “Commandments Verification Unit”, with a large line of Biblical questions concerning coveting neighbour’s asses and following “false gods”.

“Did you ever worship idols?”

“Definitely not,” Dan said.

“Certain about that?”

“Positive. Unless you count Led Zeppelin.”

“We don’t.”

If Dan’s day couldn’t get any worse, he is soon befriended by two fellow recent departures from Earth – Carlton: a loutish football hooligan with a slobbish disposition and an addiction for junk food, alongside Nena: a young, depressive, Goth female, whose hobbies include downing large quantities of drugs with bottles of vodka.

Welcome to Robert Carter’s tongue-in-cheek view of an afterlife “heaven” – which appears more like “hell” at times, especially for the hero of the story, Dan, for whom life after death quickly turns into one nightmare after another.

Not only is Purgatory completely unlike anything he had ever imagined, but the rumour going around is that finally the “Day of Judgement” may well be about to happen, depending precisely on when “The Boss” decides.

Not only do Dan, Carlton and Nena have to navigate their way around Purgatory and adapt to new – and often weird – surroundings, but each of them may only have a few weeks to discard a lifetime of mortal sins before the big day. Naturally, this latest gossip about Armageddon causes the entire population of Purgatory to sharpen up their game. Sins are to be shed before it’s too late. Crowds of people wander the streets of Purgatory like charity “chuggers”, looking to do good for others – even if they don’t want it. Gangs of “hoodies” sneak around housing estates, planting pretty flowers to make people smile, before running away in the shadows.

In Sheer Purgatory, the late author, who sadly passed away earlier this year, keeps the tempo at a fast pace; each page is supplied with a constant stream of jokes, puns and humorous quips.

It’s difficult at times to keep up with the stream of laughs, as poor Dan slides from one difficult scenario straight into another; whether it’s filling out endless, administrative forms just to get into Purgatory (familiar to anyone who has ever had to do battle with the Department of Employment, or any testy government official), or having to deal with the constant failings of his travelling companions and recently feather-plucked guardian angel, Vic.

Robert Carter not only maintains a brisk pace, but manages to deliver his words with a sense of depth and humanity – allowing the reader to slowly peel away layers of his characters, displaying deeper levels.

Robert also succeeds in creating a sense of wanting to read onwards – with characters who create images of mirth, alongside the gradual introduction of more sinister and shadier elements of the afterlife, and raising questions that positively beg to be answered in later chapters.

 

In memory of  Robert Carter.

Our sincere condolences to Robert’s family.

Rest in peace.

 

Exclusive Q&A with OU tutor Derek Neale by Tina Williams

 

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Bee Creative @BeeCreativePS:

Can I ask (knowing editors cuts!) was there a piece of advice in the course books you wished you had given?

In the best of possible worlds we would have separate modules for each of the genres – a short story course, a poetry course, a film writing course and so on. That is a regret of sorts, but it is the reality of OU teaching design: modules have to be big and multi-genred by necessity. And in fact that format offers some considerable strengths, it means that poetry and fiction can be taught alongside film writing and life writing. For those who don’t know, I’m talking about Creative writing  (A215 http://www.open.ac.uk/courses/modules/a215  )  and Advanced creative writing (A363 –  http://www.open.ac.uk/courses/modules/a363  ). As they stand, there are one or two things that are already in the modules that I wish were emphasised a little more – one of these being: writing arises from reading; if you read little, you might produce something of merit but it is less likely. This is a piece of advice that is especially important for new writers – so we’ve made it prominent in the new Start Writing Fiction MOOC, which many will know is based on the old A174 and has been a roaring success in its recent first run (so successful in fact that there will be a second presentation in October https://www.futurelearn.com/courses/start-writing-fiction-2 )

Reading prompts writing – and, of course, in the OU creative writing course books we give many readings, but these are often extracts, we don’t have space or time on the modules to include whole texts as readings. But student-writers gain much from going on from these extracts and looking at the rest of the novels or collections or anthologies or scripts, or more work by those particular authors. That is how reading works – following your own hunches and inclinations, meticulously and thoroughly – and that it is also how writing works.

We did have several stories that were originally set for inclusion in A215 that eventually didn’t make the final cut for various reasons. Many, if not most, students write short stories during the two modules, so it would have been good to give more examples of the form (there are already a few) – there was no room, as I recall, but handily there are plenty of short stories out there in the world, available as ‘further reading’. The recommendation to go off and do further reading – that advice could be repeated a few times in the course books.

Another piece of advice, which is part of the modules’ teaching but perhaps not prominent enough in the course books – read and review the work-in-progress of fellow writers whenever you can. This can’t be said loudly enough. This practice of close editorial scrutiny feeds back into your own writing, sometimes invisibly but invariably fruitfully. It’s a practice that is resisted by some writers but it accelerates writing development and is, I think, one of the crucial benefits to be gained from creative writing study. It’s so rare to find readers and writers with a reciprocal interest in feeding back on work – I would press on students even more than we already do the importance of making the most of it while you can.

Roger White @rogerlwhite:

What’s the situation on a possible OU MA in Creative Writing?

Some very good news on this front – as you may be aware, we have been pressing to make a Creative Writing MA at the OU for some years but have previously hit various obstacles. But we now have the go ahead and are starting the development. It will be an online-only MA to be studied over 2 years, consisting of an initial 60pt module and a subsequent 120pt module. The present plans are for it to launch in the autumn of 2016. I’m quietly optimistic we’ll meet the deadlines and launch on time, but module production can hit unforeseen problems, so it’s best to keep checking the relevant OU websites for confirmation of the start date (there won’t be any further information available yet, but early details of the MA should start to appear on the OU courses and qualifications websites at some time in 2015).

L.D.Lapinski @ldlapinski:

What do you think of the prevalence given to literary over genre-specific fiction (fantasy, sci-fi, crime, etc) at writing events?

At the bigger literary events there is an apparent predominance of so-called literary novels and novelists under discussion – but this is relative. Writers such as Ian Rankin and P.D. James, for instance, would always headline such events, and they are actually crime writers. Increasingly literary novels are influenced by – and in turn perhaps influence – genre fiction. I am thinking, for example, of Hilary Mantel and Sarah Waters in relation to historical fiction here. And writers such as Iain Banks, sadly no longer with us, have traditionally played to both the literary and science fiction audiences (if you’re interested – and haven’t seen it before – here is an archive interview with him from the Cheltenham Literature Festival c.2011 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nAwVkQ-0_u0 ). And, of course, many genres now have dedicated festivals and events of their own – such as the Harrogate crime writing festival – http://harrogateinternationalfestivals.com/crime/   – and at Harrogate interestingly the so-called literature festival seems to have more BBC newsreaders and general ‘celebrities who have written a book’ on the bill than literary novelists.

@Littlecantray:

What do you think are the most common mistakes Creative Writing students make?

Overwriting and not paying enough attention to structure.  Because of the pressure of deadlines many students don’t allow enough time for the final edit – time to pause and leave the work alone, then come back to it. In those final reviews and redrafts an ‘okay’ piece can become exceptional – it’s there that you can really reflect objectively on what space has been left for the reader to collaborate in the invention of the work, and it’s in those final reflections that you can better see the overall architecture of a story, script or poem, to see if the structure works. This is why stories by Hemingway and Carver are often used as exemplars in creative writing study; however much you like or dislike that style of writing, they epitomise a tight, strong structure, without excess and with impeccable editing.

@Cat_Lumb:

Do you believe Creative Writing courses can create great writers, or is writing talent innate?

One thing that creative writing courses can do is accelerate writing development – there is concrete evidence of that from all universities that teach the subject, including the OU, and it is exemplified by the quality and quantity of writers and writing outputs that have come out of creative writing courses. UEA’s famous MA in creative writing, for instance, has seen several former students win the Booker prize, the most prestigious fiction prize in the UK. This must say something.  Similarly the biggest and most longstanding and prestigious creative writing MFA programme in the US at Iowa boasts many Pulitzer prize winning authors and has an astounding number of successful writers associated with it. And to bring it back to the OU, I wonder if you heard Carys Bray, once an A174, A215 and A363 student reading from and talking about her new novel on Radio 4’s Front Row a couple of weeks ago?

Such successes depend on many factors, not just creative writing courses – but the courses do play their part, I think. Craft and technique can certainly be taught. And writers talking to each other about their work, scrutinising drafts and offering editorial comment – that all accelerates writers’ development. Besides these factors, creative writing courses potentially give student-writers the space, focus and license to call themselves writers – this is a great legitimising gift.

I don’t think any creative writing course would claim to create great writers (from scratch) but all the evidence suggests that through some or all of the above such courses allow writers’ natural talent, ability and determination to prosper and grow. And, of course, it shouldn’t be forgotten that whatever the level of success of writers’ outputs or the value of ‘greatness’ or otherwise placed on that work, such courses also endow students with impressive levels of literacy, literary awareness, writing, reading, critical discussion and editorial skills, all of which can be used in many different contexts and types of employment. The modern day writer often has to have a portfolio of occupations and creative writing courses are incredibly effective at delivering those skills.

Marie Andrews:

Do you keep a daily diary?

Yes, though it’s not a diary as such but more of a writer’s notebook. Sometimes I write in it in diary-like fashion, but often in a less ordered or regular way: ideas and observations, reflections on reading – all sorts. Sometimes these notebooks are filled fast and furiously, and sometimes less rapidly. I’m quite superstitious about them – I have to use unlined paper. I use small, A5 black hardbound sketch books. It seems to me that I am more or less sketching my perceptions of the world in them, and I do actually draw in them sometimes – and I read back over them and use them, or parts of them, again and again. There is no time limit on when something from a notebook might be used, or might occur to be relevant. As I’m writing this I’m sitting by a shelf of 50 or so of them, many with post-its sticking out in unruly fashion at odd angles – I find myself reading over them to reference my own intentions, to recall an idea, or sometimes it seems more fundamental – to remind myself that I write and have written, to re-enter those imaginative avenues. I also frequently use them for automatic writing – and when I use them in that way it can be on a daily basis, but it feels then that they are even more like dream diaries rather than conventional diaries.

@Zeborina:

Which books inspired you as a child, and why?

I recall reading Black Beauty, the Famous Five and Mary Poppins books early on, and a teacher introduced a particular collection – The Book of a Thousand Poems – which I loved revisiting (I suppose the habit of re-reading started then). It contained Hiawatha’s Childhood, a real favourite  – of course, I thought it was the whole poem, only to discover several years later that it was just a fraction of the whole. Teenage years brought Catcher in the Rye and Nineteen Eighty-Four which were real inspirations.  And in terms of writing – after the 11-plus had been taken in January and the school year seemed to have no point, our teacher divided us into groups to write collaborative novels. That was certainly an inspiration. Our table won the Mars bars, as I recall, with a tale of the South Seas, shipwrecks, mutinies, stowaways and romance – oh, and an erupting volcano.

Pippa Wilson @CrackerHackerJM:

How do you think fiction will progress in the age of digital publishing?

Interesting question – things are in a state of flux, but my guess is that the relationship between writer and her or his audience will become more diverse; there will be different ways of publishing work. This is already increasingly the case. Writers’ incomes are currently plummeting by all accounts. The old relationships between writers and agents and publishers are breaking up, or at least they’re presently in a state of flux. Potentially the situation is becoming more egalitarian, more in favour of the writer, but the writer isn’t quite benefiting yet and it is hard to tell how this will end up – it might be a case of writers having to self-publish more. Also, short fiction – and I mean really short – has taken off, with flash and micro fiction. There are more places and competitions for the short short story now. A few years ago some well-known Hemingway and Carver stories were considered to be Flash or Sudden fictions, now they appear quite long. Some might see this as the internet effect and to do with modern-day attention spans. And it might have a knock-on effect on the novel form  – or at least potentially, though you wouldn’t think so looking at Hilary Mantel. But it would be interesting to look at the statistics for lengths of novels to see if there have been more novellas. There are one or two new prizes for novellas.

Mutuo Mbiilla:

Firstly, how many short stories do you think is ideal for a book aimed at teenagers? Secondly, should a writer submit their work to more than one publisher to increase their odds of publication?

 I know little about the teenage market, sorry. The key thing is to identify a publisher, one who publishes short stories for the teenage readership; research them and find out how many stories and of what length are usually contained in each collection.  With regards sending to more than one publisher at a time: traditionally it was not good practice to send to more than one publisher at a time, but I know agents send out to multiple publishers at the same time, and I’m also aware (from experience) that publishers can sit on decisions for a considerable amount of time. You could find yourself waiting 6 months for a response from a publisher – and at that rate, if you just send to one at a time, it could take you 5 years to send to 10 publishers. Hopefully it wouldn’t take that many – but it’s more than possible. I think the climate has changed, especially with electronic submission (check the publisher), and many people do submit to more than one publisher at a time nowadays.

Magda Phili:

What do you think is the best approach for a fictional story idea based on a real person? The person I have in mind has done things which provide perfect material for my story. Should I create a new character instead with a new name and blend my own ideas with real facts, in effect concealing this person existed and inventing a new one?

There isn’t one ‘best approach’ in these circumstances. You should fictionalise if there is any issue at all with the material – if the person doesn’t want to be written about, if the content is controversial in any way. And you have to ensure that you have fully and imaginatively digested the material when you fictionalise. The less you fictionalise, the more you would have to consult with the ‘real person’ and in effect seek permission. Otherwise you could face law suits. And even if you fictionalise, there can be problems if your story reveals characters and/or events that are too near real life. See, for instance, the case of the recent French novel involving a Scarlett Johansson double – http://www.theguardian.com/film/2014/jul/04/scarlett-johansson-wins-french-defamation-case

 

Interview with Lea Ryan by Heather Boell

 

lea ryan

Tell me a bit about yourself

I never know where to start with this question for some reason. I live in Indiana (US) with my husband and two kids and a couple of cats. Oh, and fish. We have one fish per child, actually one pet per person, I just realized. I like to write books and stories and draw things. I also enjoy video games very much. I’m currently playing Deus Ex on PS3 when I can grab a few spare moments.
How did you become involved in writing?

I started writing very gradually. I loved reading as a kid. I was a total bookworm until I became a teenager and decided that getting into trouble might be more fun.

Writing didn’t interest me until I was well into my 20s. I started jotting down story ideas. My husband thought it was weird. I guess I thought it was weird, too, but I kept going back. Writing settles some restless part of my mind. It gives the creative energy somewhere to go. I feel more settled into myself when I’m working on a book, if that makes sense.

Were you influenced by any particular writing or styles?

I read different kinds of fiction, everything from early 1900s gothic weirdness to Stephen King and Dean Koontz to brain junkfood like Janet Evanovich and James Patterson.

There’s a quote I like from John Sayles. I hope I get this right, “The people who influence you aren’t necessarily who you’re going to write like, but the fact of their existence, of the existence of their characters, the spirit in them, opens up a possibility in your mind.”

Everything I read influences me in some kind of way. I take the techniques I enjoy as a reader and keep them in mind when I write.

 What was your path to successfully publishing your first book?

I publish my own work at the moment. I never really tried to go the traditional route. I read a lot of writer and agent blogs and pursuing a publisher just seemed like a waste of time. Getting published by a major house would be awesome, but from here, it looks like writers waste their time writing all these queries that barely get looked at.

I would rather do my own thing. It’s more work. I have more control, which may not always be the best thing, but I’m happy with most of it.

http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/62359-pestilence-rising

http://www.amazon.com/Pestilence-Rising-ebook/dp/B00F9XK1M0/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1379550296&sr=1-1&keywords=pestilence+rising

 

 

 

 

Interview with OU student Clare Allington

You’ve written a horror short story called ‘Frying Tonight’ which is set during the American Civil War. Could you please tell us a bit about it?

I love the research part of the writing process; so when the calls for submissions came for this project, I spent a long period just researching and reading on line accounts of that period.  The idea just crept up on me; without giving too much it really addresses the limits humans would go to stay alive and how this could become sort of acceptable and natural, kind of like something we would today think was barbaric was very every day….sort of Scarlett O’Hara meets Hannibal …saying no more ha ha

Where did you get your ideas from for ‘Frying Tonight’? Did you need to do a lot of research? How difficult was it to write in another time period?

As previously mentioned, I had already made sure I had a clear grasp of the events of that period, common mistake many writers make is just not doing their research especially with regard to language, this was the deep south, so I am very looking in that I have many supportive American friends who checked over the vernacular for me.

You have a keen interest in politics and justice for the people. Do you think that this filters into your writing?

Very much so, although my short stories unfortunately have to be a lot snappier with less character growth, I would like to think my longer novels (when completed) not so much address or change the world (I am a realist), but my characters are real enough to show the reader how life can be for those experiencing injustice.

You have been published three times, one of which is in an anthology called Anxiety Disorders: True Stories of Survival. Can you please tell us a bit about this?

Any form of mental illness is still pretty much not spoken about; this anthology was fantastic because it gave me the opportunity to address a period in my life many years ago, write about it and hopefully inspire others to realise they are not alone and many people from all walks of life either experience anxiety, depression etc, but its not the end of the world….

How long have you been writing?

My mum always said I was born with a book, pad and pencil in my hand.  I have been writing since I could pick up a pen really, moved around a lot as a child overseas, so writing became like the best friend I never had chance to make!

What inspires you?

Living inspires me, what I see around me every day, basic every day things from a horror perspective can be turned into a short story, I just don’t have enough hours in the day!

What is your writing space like?

As I am currently in my last year at university, I have took over the whole house with my books, writing takes a back seat at the moment, but the ideas folder on my laptop is full….and I still try to write a little bit every day, think that’s really important.

Who are your favourite authors and why?

I was an early reader, so had gone through the whole gambit of children’s novels by age 9, so started on my mums bookcase, The Shining (King) and Rosemary’s Baby (Levin) were hidden from her, but really yes, my lifelong love of King started at that age.  I just love his characterisations, bit like Marmite you either love him or hate him.  Dickens, again the characterisation but also the social commentary, the use of words, just brilliant.  And of course, David Moody, not just a great writer, but a friend and I hope one day to be able to write as well as he does.

What is it that draws you to the horror genre? Have you been interested in horror since childhood?

As above….and I had a pretty bohemian childhood so we spent lots of time in the great outdoors, nature is pretty horrific and as children me and my brother were pretty fascinated with dead things both in the sea and on land!

How do you celebrate Halloween?

Of course, it’s a massive deal in my house.  I live in a 200 year old refurbished church, so externally the atmosphere is already there, but always decorate and dress up and throw a party! Most years I’m not a zombie, generally a witch.

 

 

Inky Interview with Liz Jensen

Liz Jensen’s eight acclaimed novels include The Ninth Life of Louis Drax and most recently two ecological thrillers, The Rapture and The Uninvited. Her fiction, published by Bloomsbury, spans black comedy, science fiction, satire, family drama, historical fantasy and psychological suspense. It has been adapted for radio, appeared in anthologies, developed for film, short-listed for the Guardian Fiction award, nominated three times for the Orange Prize, and widely translated. She has two adult sons and shares her life with the Danish writer Carsten Jensen, best-selling author of the internationally-acclaimed We, The Drowned. She lives in Copenhagen.

Hi Liz, thank you so much for joining us. That really is an impressive bio. Which books were the source of your early inspiration towards building your passion for writing? 

The Cat in the Hat was the first book I remember reading on my own, and it must have lit a fire in me because I haven’t stopped reading in the 50 years since – so thank you, Dr Seuss. I knew by around eight, when I wrote my first ’novel’ (The Ghost with the Wooden Leg) that this was my calling. While on the romantic front, I’d be marrying a baboon or possibly a gorilla. Ah, those early convictions! By the time I was fifteen I’d dropped the primate obsession but was still an avid reader. I remember that Mervyn Peake’s Titus Groan and Gormenghast reconfigured my mental landscape the way only good fiction can. I thought then: ’Yes, this is still what I want to do’. Yet paradoxically it was around that time that my confidence faltered. Expressing a wish to write seemed on a par with announcing you’d be flying to Venus in a sequinned ballgown: borderline loony.

At this point it dawned on me that to finance the writing life I wanted (which I assumed I’d be indulging in secret, like a kinky habit), I’d need a ’proper job’. Journalism ticked the Normal box, and felt like a smart way in. I took some risks by catapulting myself to first Hong Kong and then Taiwan, where I got lucky. Back in the UK the career took over, and there was a decade or so in which the Grand Writing Plan simply got shelved and semi-forgotten because I was too busy. But there were moments when I  remembered. One of them came in my late 20s when I read Jeannette Winterson’s Oranges are Not the Only Fruit. That novel thrilled me to the core. Realising that someone my own age could write incisive, ground-breaking novels that told fundamental truths was an inspiration.

Which writers/authors currently inspire and delight you? 

I am going through a phase of reading American literature, in particular memoirs and fictionalised memoirs: what in Scandinavia they call auto-fiction. The Norwegian writer Karl Ove Knausgaard paved the way for books like Jenny Offil’s Department of Speculation and Ben Lerner’s 10:4, both intelligent hybrids that splice memoir, fiction and elements of the poetic truth together, forming a vivid perspective on how we humans cope with everyday reality. You could argue that the emerging genre is navel-gazing incarnate, and the literary equivalent of the selfie. But at its best, forensic introspection can be generous, illuminating and creative. I have also recently discovered the memoirs of Mary Karr, who among others paved the way for all these writers. I’ve returned again and again to The Liars ClubCherry and Lit, all read by Karr herself (luminously, by the way) on audio. The combination of searing honesty and deadpan humour is perfectly-judged. It feels almost artless, but it’s far from that: she comes from poetry, and you can sense it in her choices and rhythms. Tobias Wolf told her once: ’don’t be afraid to look like an asshole’. She was brave enough to take that advice, and it led to a truly striking body of work. Then there’s the brilliant essayist Rebecca Solnit, who I first discovered through her iconic essay Men Explain Things to Me. A Paradise Built in Hell,  her investigation into the way ordinary people co-operate to re-build their lives after disasters, is a masterpiece.

Was the first novel you ever wrote the first to be published? How long had you been writing before this happened?  

When my then husband was offered a job in France, I jumped at the chance to leave the BBC and start a new life: now I’d finally write that novel. Two years later, I was living in a tiny village, making cement sculptures, doing freelance journalism and translation, and experimenting with everything under the sun including hang-gliding. But still no novel. By the time I was pregnant it felt like now or never. To begin with I set myself the task of writing 1,000-word pieces every day, just to get into the writing habit. Those exercises – about French village life – consisted of factual prose that kept trying on fiction’s clothes and enjoying what it saw in the mirror. I never sent them anywhere, and although looking back they weren’t much cop, they were a neccessary stepping-stone into something wilder and truer. Despite the writing exercises, I still didn’t have a story to tell all through my pregnancy. Oddly enough, it was giving birth that did it. It started because I was so traumatised by the pain, thanks to a failed epidural, that I had to write the horror out of my system. Next I tried turning some of that post-traumatic-stress stuff into a proper scene, rather than an existential scream, and that led me to write further scenes. Then there was my son himself: the sudden, vivid presence of an extraordinary, demanding little person who was all personality, gave me both a narrative and a reason to write. In between breast-feeding and watching a soap opera called The Young and The Restless on French TV, I was amassing sentences that became paragraphs and then chapters. Interestingly, the gruesome childbirth scene never made it into the finished book. But other things about motherhood did, and I have my son to thank for that. I learned then: anything can get you going. And you’ll know when it has, because you’ll feel it yelling for you in the night as loud as any infant.

In all, I spent four and a half years after my son’s birth wrestling with the novel that became Egg Dancing. Writing is a voyage of discovery. You take wrong turns. You give up for a bit and you re-start. You try to keep faith in yourself. You keep trying to show off to the people you love.

Do you have a particular place to write? Or a set time of day/night?

I’m pretty flexible. During the years when I had pre-school and school-age children, my working day revolved around their schedule. When they were elsewhere, unless there was a particularly compelling reason to think about them, I didn’t: I just entered whichever imaginary world I was occupying at the time, and wrote in my study. When they came home, the working day often ended there. But you never quite switch off: a novel is always bubbling away at the back of your mind. Although I never wanted my boys to think my work was more important than their company, I didn’t feel bad about grabbing every spare moment I had.

Ever since they grew up and left home, I’ve had far more time to work – but I can’t say it has made me more productive. In fact the more constrained my time is, the better I deploy it. Recently I hit a wall with my writing and decided to try doing things differently. So now I go to a cafe around the corner from my home in Copenhagen and write in a notebook, in longhand. I find this frees me up. If I have written anything worth pursuing, I will follow it up back at my desk, on the laptop. Dangerous as this may sound, I’m not opposed to introducing alcohol into the equation: it can trigger a useful mental shift. And hell, it worked for JG Ballard.

What moments in your career have given you the greatest pleasure and inspiration?

My first novel being accepted by an agent was such a shock that I lost my voice for a week. And when I signed a contract with Bloomsbury, I switched overnight from being a fundamentally dissatisfied person to a fundamentally satisfied one. It never ceases to thrill me that I have managed to make a living out of spinning stories from thin air. My only ambition is to be able to carry on doing it.

I love exploring new genres, and passing on what I know to those who are starting out. Teaching is a joy, especially when students blossom and produce exciting work. I enjoy the company of my writer friends and the writing community, both in the UK and Denmark, and online. It’s a generous, stimulating world to be part of. And everyone loves to talk shop.

I’m still processing the pleasuure of The Ninth Life of Louis Drax being made into a movie. Max Minghella’s screenplay injects new elements I wish I’d imagined myself: it’s a thrilling creative metamorphosis that takes the story to a new level. On the set in Vancouver last November, I kept wishing I could freeze time: I don’t think I’ve ever felt so spoiled, or on such a protracted high. It’s surreal to think that something you dreamed up a decade ago could suddenly involve helicopters and catering vans and fake coma facilities and silicon dummies. The Drax cast and crew were warm, funny, hard-working, and utterly committed. I sat on the sidelines with my family, crocheting many mis-shapen garments, including a little headband for Jamie Dornan’s baby, and a weird snood for Aiden, the brilliant young boy who plays Louis: the activity kept me calm. For a week, I was the hectic woman with the big ball of wool and the Cheshire cat grin.

As a creative writing consultant, what advice would you give to students and aspiring authors? 

Read, read, read. Don’t expect to get it right first time. Don’t be afraid to emulate writers you admire. Your own voice will end up shining through no matter what. If you don’t have a big idea, play around with smaller ideas and see what happens. Be your wildest self at all times: be receptive to what Stephen King calls ’the boys in the basement’. (And read his essential On Writing too). If you have an extreme thought, a thought you are almost ashamed of having and can barely articulate, strive to put it into words. This is what people want when they read.

And as an experienced and successful author?

Read, read, read. And since it’s garbage in, garbage out, read quality.

How does one begin writing a novel? 

Good question. But I have no proper answer. You might think that having written one novel the next is easier, but it isn’t. With each story you tell, all you learn is how to tell that story.

I like to start with a big idea or a theme – but in order to convey that, I need to find the right voice. The story and the setting emerge once the voice begins to get into its stride. I might know the ending early on, but find that the middle is a blank, so it’s a question of reverse-engineering it. I believe in spending a lot of time on the opening pages, because that’s where you are establishing a tone and a world. If you have a first chapter you are proud of, that sets a gold standard for the rest of the book.

Genre-wise, I have lately been moving into new territory, and working on a book that has elements of memoir. So I’ve stopped focusing on openings, and on story structure: this project is much looser and more instinctive. The idea is that the fragments I’m amassing will somehow jigsaw into place and I’ll have something I can call my next novel.

Rejection is a huge obstacle in the path to publication; do you have any stories or advice you can share to help writers deal with this?

Don’t show or send your work too soon, and don’t show or send it to the wrong people. It’s a mistake I have made all too often myself. For the most part, loved ones are there for you to love: they are not there to judge your art. There is always too much at stake, and others will do a more honest job. But make sure the readers you elect are real readers. By that I mean if they don’t read a lot of quality fiction,  then don’t risk it, however keen they are. They won’t be able to help you and they may actively make things worse.

If you find an astute reader who loves your work, but will always push you to do even better, then you have hit the jackpot. I have a reader like that: she is Polly Coles, author of the memoir The Politics of Washing: Real Life in Venice. We have swapped work over many years: as well as being a seriously talented writer, she has one of the sharpest literary brains I know.

Lastly, if you want to be a professional novelist, behave like one. If you get negative feedback or are rejected, swallow your pride and get constructive by analysing what went wrong and working out how to fix it. Or by putting it aside and starting something new. Many published writers have a few discarded stories or often whole novels in their bottom draw. It’s about dogged persistence as well as inspiration. If you have heard this before (and you surely have), there’s a reason: it’s the bald truth.

And finally, if you hadn’t become an author, what job would you have done? 

I’d have continued as a radio producer. I loved putting together radio documentaries, and I made some I was proud of. It’s such a dynamic and layered form of storytelling. When I listen to podcasts like This American Life, Radiolab, and (my all-time favourite) Lea Thau’s addictive Strangers, I find myself missing that life just a little. It’s no coincidence that one of the characters I’m playing around with now is on the fringes of that world. What I love about audio – and here I include audio books, my new passion – is the luxurious intimacy of a story told directly into one’s ear in a compelling voice. I cherish that intensity, that deep submersion in another world, that soul-expanding trust that comes when you opt to take a journey with a stranger.

But another part of me yearns for hard physical work, outdoors in the sun and the rain. I need to use my my hands, and get them dirty: I need to sweat. Give me weeds to pull, soil to turn and mud to stomp through. I worked on a kibbutz once, picking grapefruit. My arms were covered in bloody scratches from the thorns but I was in Heaven.

Manual work is underrated. To truly appreciate the world we need to inhale it, see the wildness at the edges of all we’ve tamed, feel the thump of its heart.

 

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The movie The Ninth Life of Louis Drax, adapted for the screen by Max Minghella, will be released later this year or in 2016. It stars Jamie Dornan, Sarah Gadon, Aaron Paul and Aiden Longworth. #The9thLifeofLouisDrax