Sorry, blog. It’s just… well, I’m not sure, really. Let me try to explain.

Weird business, being a writer. Weirder still, being a writer-who’s-about-to-have-two-books-published. Part of me is desperate to get the books out there so that I can point to them and say, “Look! I’m a proper writer now!” and part of me is terrified lest they are badly received or (worse) ignored altogether.

But until then, like I said back in this post, I’m in limbo, trying to work out what to do next. Project X, incidentally, staggered on to 3000 words, at which point I decided that I didn’t really fancy spending a substantial part of my remaining life in its company. So at the start of this week, I axed it – and almost immediately a completely new concept appeared out of the blue and proceeded to occupy the vacated space in my head. I threw together the first 1000 words yesterday and read it out to my writers’ circle last night, who seemed to like it too. I think I could have a lot of fun with this one.

Meanwhile, Project Y continues on its merry way and has now reached the end of the letter A. Project Z also emerged, in the shape of Wickhampedia. Hmmm. About time I wrote a few more entries for that, too. So as you can see, my writing life is wobbling about in several directions at the moment (and I didn’t even mention Project WhatevercomesafterZ, which grabbed my attention for an afternoon at the beginning of the month before being slapped down again).

Anyway, here are a few other things to divert you if you’ve a moment or two to spare. On Tuesday I went to a fascinating talk from several old-school SF legends at the British Library; read Oscar Windsor-Smith’s splendidly offbeat account of the event here.

Also worthy of scrutiny are my chum Sandra Norval’s excellent recent posts on cyber-networking in Fantasy Faction (here and here).

And its just struck me I haven’t mentioned Pike! Have I mentioned Pike yet? I don’t think I have, which is unforgivable. My mate K J Bennett has bravely decided to follow Mrs Darcy’s lead and is now serialising his wonderful novel Pike’s Quest here. Do please take a look: it’s hilariously daft.

Finally, I should also let you know that the super-snazzy new Ether app was officially launched today, so go here to download it if you haven’t done so already, and then go and buy some of the fab stories on there (preferably one of my three, of course). Perfect to read on the train when you get stuck outside Basingstoke owing to points failure.

OK, blog. Happy now?

Good. I won’t leave it so long next time. Promise.

every-day-poetsWell, today started nicely with an acceptance from Every Day Poets for my parody “Now We Are (Practising Safe) Sex”. A.A.Milne’s corpse should probably get ready to spin now.

In other news, I received my signed copy of Nicola Morgan‘s “Write to be Published” today and it looks terrific. Especially page 246. Page 246 is wonderful. In fact I would go as far as to say that page 246 of “Write to be Published” is the best page of writing advice ever written. I certainly can’t stop looking at it. Buy the book here. You won’t regret it.

UofHAfter the Scott Prize results were announced, I thought it might be nice to get in touch with a few people who encouraged me along the way. Pretty much the first stop on the journey was the University of Hertfordshire, because winning third prize in their creative writing award in 2007 was THE critical event that set me off on my present path.

What I hadn’t expected was that they would invite me to come along to this year’s award ceremony. Now I’m never one to turn down an invitation for free food and drink (and it’s just down the road anyway), so I quickly accepted. The award has changed a bit since the first one in 2007, in that instead of an open international competition, it’s now aimed at writers aged between 14 and 19 from the East of England. But I have to say that the writing in evidence tonight was no less impressive for that and if even a fraction of these kids stick with it, the future of British literature is in safe hands. It must have been very difficult indeed for the two judges, Emily Mackie and Marcus Sedgwick, to decide who should go home with the prizes.

The ceremony itself was a very slick affair with actors reading out extracts of the shortlisted entries, which I thought was an excellent idea. I’ve said before here that for an author there’s nothing quite like hearing someone who knows what they’re doing reading your work, and the actors involved tonight did them proud – kudos to Matt Broad, Syreeta Kumar and Jacqueline Roberts. There were some highly impressive entries in both the shortest short story category (4 – 100 words) and the short story category (up to 2000 words). It wouldn’t be fair to single out any individual writers but I was interested to note that there was more than one entrant who turned up in both categories, which I thought was particularly impressive.

So many thanks to Janet Matthews and Stephanie Grainger for inviting me along – I had a terrific time and it was lovely meeting everyone.

And if any of the entrants happen to stumble on this post, I’ll give you one simple piece of advice: don’t give up on writing, because it sure as hell won’t give up on you. Whatever you do, don’t take as long as I have to get around to doing anything about it.

Finally, if any of the parents happen to stumble on this, you should be very proud indeed – and if I ever hear that you haven’t encouraged your kids every single step of the way on their creative writing journey, I shall be very, VERY cross. OK?

Back in 2008, I had a painful but extremely valuable encounter at the Winchester Writers’ Conference. As part of the Winchester package, you are given the opportunity to have fifteen minutes with three different writing industry luminaries. These may be agents (pitch!), editors (pitch again!) or experts (listen!)

My three sessions were booked with an agent (to pitch a non-fiction project that’s still awaiting lift-off), a radio producer (to get feedback on a radio play that’s still awaiting interest) and a writer (to get feedback on a children’s book that I’d first touted around in 1992 during my first attempt at a writing career). Unfortunately the writer, Daniel Clay (who incidentally is doing very well indeed right now), was unable to attend through illness (although he did send me a very thorough critique later) and the first substitute offered failed to turn up.

The second substitute was a well-known author, creative writing teacher and journalist. I gave her my manuscript, which she scarily speed-read in front of me, metaphorically tearing it to shreds as she went. In particular, there were a number of unconventional aspects to the book, which she did not like at all. Basically, she wanted to kill my darlings.

I reacted badly.

I think I’m generally OK with dealing with criticism of my writing (except – curiously – from my nearest and dearest), but for some reason I lost my rag this time and we had a very argumentative and heated fifteen minutes, following which I came away feeling as if I’d completely wasted my time. I also felt more than a little embarrassed at having behaved so unprofessionally. However, I felt a bit better after we’d bumped into each other in the breakfast queue the next morning and I’d apologised to her for not taking her criticism well. She was very nice and actually suggested that I send it out to a few agents, asking me to let her know how I got on.

The odd thing was that after I’d thought about it for a while afterwards, I came to the conclusion that what this showed was that I was actually too close to the book to send it out as a first novel. There was no way that I could ever submit to the inevitable compromises that I would have to go through in order to get it published; I loved the concept too much. So I decided to put it to one side and focus on other things (including – eventually – Mrs Darcy versus the Aliens).

But the other really important thing that I picked up on was a tiny grain of encouragement she’d given me right at the start of our fifteen minutes. I’d thrust my writing CV at her, with a comment that what I really wanted was to have a short story collection published, “but of course, there’s no chance of that ever happening.” Her response was to look at the CV and say, “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” This was the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to me about my short stories.

So, in the light of recent events, I rather think it’s about time I thanked Sophie King for that painful fifteen minutes.

Thank you, Sophie.

First of all, hello to anyone who first came here after the great Charlie Higson retweeted my link to the previous post. Nice to see you – don’t be shy, will you? Must say, it was nice to get my name into at least one of the national dailies on Monday, even if it was the Telegraph (shame it happened a year too late for my Dad to see me listed as a writer in his favourite paper, though). What’s more, the letter seems to have had some kind of effect already. We shall see.

I’m in an odd kind of limbo right now, whilst I’m waiting for Mrs Darcy to come out in September, and I’ve been feeling quite unsettled for a while. I’ve been writing odd bits of stuff, some of which I really like, but I haven’t felt like committing myself to anything longer than around 500 words. However, last night I finally got down to writing the first scene of a new project that’s been bubbling under in my head for the last four or five months.

I think I’ve been putting off doing this in case it self-destructed on impact. But it didn’t. What’s more, whilst I was writing it, a couple of things that worked perfectly appeared out of the blue, completely unasked-for. Which is great, because it means that my subconscious knows where it’s heading. It used to happen with Mrs Darcy sometimes, too, and I’d forgotten how good it felt. So Project X is now officially under way.

I’ve also finally kicked off Project Y, otherwise known as “Too Many CDs.” This is where I systematically trawl through my record collection seeing what turns up. The subtitle of the blog says it all, really. Could be fun.

So now those two are up and running, I’d better start thinking about Project Z, hadn’t I?

200px-Citizen_smithWell, then. It seems that I’ve temporarily become a bit of an activist, following the BBC’s shameful treatment of speculative fiction on World Book Night. After reading Stephen Hunt’s clarion call to action, I was very happy to add my name to his letter, and here is the full list of signatories (incidentally, that’s the second time in recent weeks that I’ve found myself on the same page as the likes of Michael Moorcock – oh, calm down, Pinnock).

There’s a weird disconnection going on here. The most anticipated event right now in UK television (actually, probably the most anticipated event in the UK, full stop – sorry Kate’n'Wills) is the start of the new series of Doctor Who. And yet science fiction is still the genre that dare not speak its name.

It’s not just the BBC that are guilty here. I was searching for an article on the 1983 Best of Young British Novelists campaign just now, and I came across this stupendously idiotic subhead. Whatever happened to Christopher Priest? Well, he carried on writing a load of fascinating and innovative novels that were largely ignored by the mainstream press, that’s what he did. Why were they ignored? I give you three guesses. (Incidentally, it’s worth reading Priest’s take on that campaign – scroll down to 1983.)

Here’s another one. I wonder how many literary types out there have ever heard of Stanislaw Lem’s “A Perfect Vacuum.” It’s possibly the most über-literary book ever written, out-Borgesing Borges himself and it should be the kind of cult classic that causes everyone to give a knowing nod whenever its name is mentioned. But I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk about it. The only reason I’ve ever read it is that it came in a portmanteau edition along with “Solaris” (ah, you’ve heard of that one, haven’t you?) And as for why Lem isn’t up there with all the other greats of 20th century fiction, I will give you the same three guesses as before.

As a reader, I really don’t give a toss what genre a book belongs to. I like to read a mixture of stuff, for the same reason that I like to listen to a mixture of stuff and eat a mixture of stuff. Doesn’t everyone? Apparently not, it seems.

As a writer, I apply the same logic. I’ve written stories that would definitely be described as literary. But I’ve also written horror, science fiction and mainstream humour. I wrote “Mrs Darcy versus the Aliens” simply because it struck me as a cool idea that might be fun to explore – which is as good a reason as any for writing something, isn’t it?

There is hope, though. In the small presses, the distinctions are beginning to blur (I refer you once again to this post by Camille Gooderham-Campbell of Every Day Fiction, for example). And writers like Adam Marek are being taken seriously even when they manage to smuggle a zombie story into their first collection of short stories. Maybe one day the establishment will catch up, eh?

Whilst I was away on holiday, my Proxima label-mate Charles Christian handed over the editorship of Ink, Sweat and Tears to his deputy, Helen Ivory. IS&T published my first-ever (rather sweary) poem, “I Wish to Register a Complaint”, thus setting me off on a completely unexpected career side-path. So, for this alone, Charles is a Top Bloke. But (as I mentioned above) he is also a fellow Proxima author, which makes him beyond awesome.

Anyway, when I submitted a couple of new poems to Helen last week, I was more than a little disappointed not to receive a reply within a matter of minutes as per the style of the old regime. Then this morning, I saw this post on IS&T which explained why. D’oh: I really should have spotted that myself. I duly resubmitted and received a blink-of-an-eye acceptance for my poem “Conundrums”. So all is well with IS&T and long may it flourish. The piece in question will appear some time in May.

This acceptance went some way to assuaging my disappointment at ending up bottom of the class in Round Two of the Whittaker (after a decent showing in Round One, too). But in truth, it was a pretty lousy effort, and probably deserved its low score. Can’t say I’m looking forward to reading the judge’s comments though.

Finally, some really sad news: Jenny Hewitt of JBWB has died. I’ve entered their competitions a few times and they always seemed efficient and well-run. My condolences to her partner, Doug.

sixty-front-loresNow this is something rather exciting. “The Sixty” is a collection of sixty stunning science fiction images created by the stupendously talented Andy Bigwood, each accompanied by a specially-commissioned piece of flash fiction.

The authors involved include Geoff Nelder, Bec Zugor, Oscar Windsor-Smith and … me. My piece is called “Pioneer”, and I’m really proud to be involved with this, because it’s a pretty special project altogether.

It’s being launched at 6pm on 22nd April at EasterCON, National Exhibition Centre, Birmingham UK and I can’t wait to get my hands on a copy.

In other news, massive congratulations to everyone longlisted for the Edge Hill Short Story Prize, especially the ones whose wonderful books on the list I’ve read and enjoyed over the past few months: Jo Cannon, Vanessa Gebbie, Nik Perring and Tom Vowler. Fab stuff.

For no particular reason, the day job has gone a bit bonkers at the moment, which means that most of the carefully crafted posts that I had planned have been elbowed out in favour of this general ramble about stuff.

First of all, I really had planned to say something about the splendid “Get Writing” conference a couple of weekends ago, but everyone else who went seems to have overtaken me and written about it already, so it hardly seems worth it now. One thing that I will say was that possible the most interesting talk of the day came from Matt Bates, who is the fiction buyer for WHSmith Travel. I hadn’t heard anyone from the buying end of things talk before, and it was quite an eye-opener.

Basically he said that the single most important criterion for deciding whether or not a book makes it into one of his stores is the cover (the second most important criterion is how informative and interesting the blurb on the back is, by the way). The moment I heard this, I made it my mission for the rest of the day to get one of my postcards printed with Mrs Darcy’s cover into his hands – something that I actually achieved within ten minutes of his talk ending. The good news is that he really liked it. But then, who wouldn’t?

I happened to be in Bath last weekend, so I took a few of the postcards there with me, giving a couple to the young lad on the till in the Jane Austen Centre (“Awesome!”), one to Waterstones and one to another bookshop who reacted by saying they’d heard that the “first one” was being made into a film. Hmmm. Although does it really matter if I get confused with P&P&Z? I need to practice how I react to this :)

Today I had a fabbo day pretending to be a real author for a while by attending a lunchtime reception for new joiners at the Society of Authors and an evening launch party for Ed Siegle’s “Invisibles”, which looks as if it’s going to be a superb read. At the latter it was also nice to meet Alison MacLeod, who was one of the other authors involved in the National Short Story Week “Consequences” stunt. My combined intake of wine across the two events was quite high. I could get used to this.

Finally, when I got back this evening, I found that a particularly daft piece of mine (I know I’ve said that before, but, trust me, this one is dafter than average) is going to be published by The Pygmy Giant at the weekend. I’ve also been invited to contribute to another publication, but I’ll keep that one a little mysterious for the time being.

And I nearly forgot. My piece “Perfect Moment” was apparently one of OneFortyFiction’s most popular stories in February. Here it is again, in case you missed it.

Easy. Write a post about the Bridport Prize Shortlist. Extraordinary.

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