Foggy night

Today is short-listing day. Every time my phone has pinged, I've checked my inbox, with unrealistic optimism. But now it's late, and I've got to accept I'm not getting an email.

I'd love to know how close I got - whether I was literally only long-listed because I avoided common faux-pas, or whether someone actually liked my story. When you get a silent rejection, the questions go unanswered.

I'm already brushing myself off though. Perseverence is my word of the day. Just because I didn't get through this time doesn't mean I won't, eventually.

(I just wish I could get more help finding some street signs, so that I'd feel a bit less like I'm trying to navigate through a foggy night with my satnav down.)

Flying high

In the midst of a difficult day last Friday, I opened an email in my inbox without noticing who it was from until it popped open with the wonderful news that I've been longlisted in the most recent competition I entered, the Dragonfly Tea short story competition.

It was like a shot of adrenalin; I flew high all day. It's hard to know exactly how big a compliment it is, and the short-listing won't be complete until the end of next week. I allowed myself to start to dream, though...if I could be short-listed, it would make my year.

See how afraid of disappointment I am? How lacking in confidence in my own skills? I think it would be ridiculous to aim for winning. I'm content to settle for short-listing! Perhaps it's time to make my expectations a bit higher and push myself a bit harder! Fear gives us lead boots, and I'm trying to unlace mine so I can leave them behind.

Fingers crossed...

Deadlines

I saw a short story competition in late July that I really wanted to enter. It is a dragonfly tea competition, and will be judged by Jojo Moyes, who is a favourite author of mine. Best of all, it was free to enter.

I knew it would be a challenge - I didn't find the choices of given titles at all inspiring - but the summer stretched ahead and the closing date was today - the last day of August.

I took the titles to Guernsey as we visited my sister. I imagined carefree days of children running along beaches while I sat and scribbled. Instead, we walked, climbed, played tennis and football on the beach, bodyboarded on the beach and kept the kids up late. By the time we came home, the best I'd done was to have a germ of an idea.

Then we had a couple of weeks of squeezing things in - parties, going in to work, and late night planning sessions. Somehow the time to write evaporated like a summer puddle. At the very end, I took them to a playcentre and wrote a draft, longhand.  Last week we went camping with the kids' dad. I took my laptop, which I'd typed the draft onto. We were going to have some time at his parents', and I thought they would appreciate me stepping back, and giving them time with the grandkids. I thought he would be able to do the parenting (for once!) while I wrote.

But that didn't work out either. We ended up camping for an extra night. We ended up putting the kids to bed at 10, and falling into sleeping bags ourselves. There were difficult family moments to navigate; there were children who wanted and needed me constantly. There were people who talked to me whenever I sat down to write. I didn't sleep well, so I felt constantly tired and uncreative. Then my laptop stopped working, and I gave up.

Which left one weekend. I spent Saturday unpacking and ringfenced some time on Sunday, but then Mum phoned and needed me. So it has become a last-minute race to the post, today. We had some family commitments, but in between, I've edited. I don't know how good it is - I came very close to giving in, but in the end, I reasoned that if you give in, you never achieve. And maybe, just maybe, my story is better than I think. Well, I can dream, can't I?! So it has been sent. The deed is done, the deadline met, by a whisker. Now to catch up on the laundry...

Swanwick Summer School

Swanwick Writing School has been running for forty years - only a little longer than I have been aliv! - but this is the first year I've made it, and then it was for a pitiful amount of time.

Despite my best attempts to plan a brief escape from home as a day visitor to the School, mum ended up having a hospital appointment, and no-one else could fill in babysitting. Steve (ex-husband) came to look after the children in the morning, but arrived ten minutes before I wanted to arrive at Swanwick, which is half an hour's drive away. It was not the relaxing, stress-free start to the day I'd hoped for!

The welcome was warm, though, and people were friendly and helpful, even in the short visit I had. I thoroughly enjoyed the lectures, too, though they only whetted my appetite. I wish I could have stayed longer.

Sue Moorcroft gave a great talk on Romantic Fiction - she is so knowledgeable about her subject and gave lots of fascinating information, including about the Romantic Novelist's Association. I hadn't realised before that it is possible to attend talks and events run by the RNA even if you're not a member. It usually means an extra cost, but not a prohibitive one. Up-to-date information can be found on the RNA website. I have heard good things about them from many sources, and will be checking them out again now, instead of waiting for my next crack of the whip at joining their New Writers' Scheme.

So, while it was frustrating putting my own dreams on the back-burner, the kids come first, and I gained a lot of benefit from a short amount of time at Swanwick. Hope I can afford the time and money to attend next year...and that nothing will get in the way.

I wonder what I will have achieved towards my writing dreams by then? Watch this space...

Keeping the pilot light burning

Although I'm in a fallow period, I think about my book a lot. I feel a bit like a guilty mum who has left her child with someone else for far too long...

Reading writing magazines keeps my appetite whetted and I'm reading widely as well as revisiting old favourites, trying to feed my creativity. I will soon have to decide whether to take up precious packing space in my suitcase with my manuscript and notebooks, or whether to take a full break. I'm also trying to work out child-care and brace myself to spend the money to go to Swanwick Writing School for one day...

Even when you're not writing, you can be working on self-improvement, and chasing those dreams. But I have to be careful not to use that as a safe excuse - a cosy comfort-zone that is an easier place than actually wrestling with plot and structure, how likeable characters are; staring into the face of the possibility that the whole thing has more holes than a sieve and is beyond redemption.

Perhaps that answers the question of whether I should take the manuscript on holiday. I'm pretty sure that it's not going to improve itself...

Tough love

Wow, it's been a bit of a time of lost focus as I've let my latest novel stew, and have got on with writing reports instead.

I've not yet reapplied to the womentoring project, as I think my work needs a bit more TLC (TLC here means: ripping apart and beginning again. The art of tough love..?)

I have, however, read through my first draft. I discovered quickly that for some reason Scrivener had missed out at least half the chapters. Doing battle with technology is one of my least favourite things, so I rather daftly read the half I'd got, made copious notes about how I need to fix the structure, tighten things up, cut things, and insert sub-plots...all based on half a book.

Anyway, the technical support at Scrivener enabled me to rescue my lost chapters, although I don't know how to reinsert them into the project. I think they have somehow been 'categorised' as something within the program - I can't be more technical than that - and though I now have a paper copy of everything (phew!) I now need to go back for more support and wrestle again.

Is it worth it? The extra stress and barrier to production? I'm not 100% sure yet. When I'm trying to sort out technical problems, the answer is no. But I did enjoy working with the program, and having my corkboard of notes, and the way it compiled (half of) the finished draft into something that was formatted well was exciting.

So I'm not going to judge, yet. Let's see how it goes when I try to fix the problem, which I've obviously inadvertently caused.

Next job on my list, then: read the book, the whole book and nothing but the book (till I've finished)...and keep mulling over a sub-plot for my lovely hero, who must be a little more rounded (without the application of doughnuts) and be a little more the kind of boy everyone will fall in love with...

It sounds so easy, and feels so difficult! I might have to try the tough love on myself to stop procrastinating!

Finding encouragement

I was feeling blue last time I posted, due to the way my work had sneakily transformed itself into something only fit for the bin while I've been looking the other way.

I'm still reluctant to read on - fearing more of the same. But one of my procastinating activities was to read a book which had won a prize in roughly the genre I write in.

I was told to expect a twist; I was told that this author is very skilled. So I bought the book, despite it costing more on the kindle than the usual books I buy.

And then I started to read. And it was bad. It was poorly written, inaccurate to the point of annoyance (certain aspects of the main character's life matched mine, and this then led to a lot of frustration when it was clear that the author had no idea what she was talking about). It was sketchily edited too - I was irritated by such small details as a day that seemed to skip to nighttime when it was lunchtime, and someone described by the POV character as having their back turned, and their face fuller than usual. Excuse me? How can you tell if they have their back to you? And how come no-one picked up on this before publication?

This book has good reviews; author endorsements from writers whose books I admire; and it's a high seller. So perhaps I'm the one who is wrong, when I think the characters are very cliched and two dimensional, and the dialogue unrealistic and aggravating...?

Obviously, I've no room to talk, with my current difficulties. But actually, this average book gave me a confidence boost.

For a start, I could identify - quite clearly - many of the things that broke my trust as a reader. If I can identify them in someone else's work, I'm getting closer to knowing what is wrong with my work, and when I see that, I'm closer to fixing it.

Then I saw that there is hope for me. Hope that with polishing, I can be better than that. Hope that I might find a readership - people who appreciate my writing, even if I'll never be a Keyes or Moriarty (both of whom I think are excellent writers).

What gives you encouragement when you're frustrated? And have you found any 'poor' books recently? If not, I'd heartily recommend it to make you feel better!