Monday, 12 November 2012
A.Gallery
In a nice continuation from my last 'Getting Creative' post, this Saturday was all about viewing some creativity. One of my friends had tweeted about the new A. Gallery in the Saltmarket area of Glasgow so we went along to check it out. It's located just around the corner from the Tron Theatre...a good excuse to stop at the bar for some lunch on the way. (Also recommend stopping in at Trans-europe cafe for some hot chocolate and fudge cake..best I've tried!!).
A.Gallery is a funky little place - it's fresh and welcoming with an eye catching assortment of unique contemporary art and jewellery (featuring some of the biggest, wackiest rings I've ever seen!) The gallery is run by the chocolate-providing super friendly Jennifer Fergie (whose awesome work is also on display). The image above provides a taster of some of the work you'll find there (see the website here for more details on the exhibiting artists). There's a tempting £99 and under sale in the run up to Christmas.
I'm also intrigued by the sound of the 'lock in' evening event due to take place on the 30th which apparently will feature a Carol singing transvestite...
You should go and visit the gallery and support some talented local artists!
The visit motivated me to continue with my creative ventures. Managed to write 2,000 words of my new book on Sunday and have been preparing lots of cut-out poems and images for my sketchbook project (the sketchbook still hasn't arrived yet from America. Trying not to panic and reminding myself I always work better with an impending deadline...) And on that note I'm off to get busy...
Tuesday, 23 October 2012
Getting Creative
It's that time of year where the darkness descends and my body goes into hibernation mode. This year I've decided to embrace the benefits of Winter and focus on the fact I tend to find it easier to retreat into a world of creativity during the dark nights. Motivation can be a problem - but having some work published online in the past couple of months (work related articles and flash fiction) has helped!
In order to sustain that motivation I've decided to set myself two major creative goals to be completed over the next few months...
Thanks to a friend (thanks Rebecca!) I came across a really interesting Art Project called The Sketchbook Project. To participate you 'order' a blank sketchbook from the arts project in Brooklyn, then you fill it with whatever creative things you fancy (sketches, words, photos) and then post it back. They then take your sketchbook 'on the road' across America as part of a travelling library for people to view. At the end of the road trip all sketchbooks are then placed in a permanent collection at Brooklyn Library. I decided to sign up and am now awaiting my blank sketchbook. The deadline is 15th January so that doesn't really give me long and my mind is already ticking over with things I want to include. I love the idea and I was too impatient to wait around for a 2014 project. Plus New York is on my list of 'must see places' to visit so what better excuse than to go there to view my own work?! I've also opted to have my sketchbook professionally digitised by the project which means anyone anywhere in the world will be able to view it. No pressure then.
My other goal is to complete the first 15,000 words of my new novel by mid November. (I've only written 3,500 so far...). I'm not going to be undertaking NANO as I enjoy a longer drawn out process of writing and not always on a daily baiss. I'm more likely to go through stages of writing 3,000 words in one sitting.
So if you don't hear from me for a while during the last few months of 2012 don't take it personally - I'm just evading reality more than usual. (And if you see me on facebook too much please tell me to get off and back to work!)
Sunday, 16 September 2012
York and Writing
Last Friday I travelled to York to attend the Writers' Workshop Festival of Writing. It was thanks to a brief conversation I'd had with Nicola Morgan, the childrens author, at the SAW Writing conference in March, that I found out about this event. The Festival offers a fantastic range of workshops/panels and talks led by leading publishers, agents and established authors but probably the real selling point for me was the fact you could submit the first part of your book and synopsis to two agents (or book doctors) and then get to meet with them for 10 minutes to disuss your work. Kind of daunting...but such a worthwhile, valuable (and, for me, encouraging!) experience.
After a train journey of sub zero temperatures and screaming kids invading my 'quiet zone' coach I was relieved to step out into the sunshine of York. Fifteen minutes later I arrived at York University Campus, feeling a little nervous but excited at the prospect of what lay ahead. Once I had figured out how to enter my building (I really hope no one was watching my ten attempts at using the key card to open the door!) I setttled into my room and read the comments on the board beside my bed penned by past students: Epic Fail, Fail to prepare...prepare to fail, Bad times, Fun Times. I was hoping for the latter...
Any nerves I'd had about being there alone soon disappeared as I got chatting to people (from all over the world) who were also there for the first time, alone. I was amazed that people had travelled from as far as Australia, France and Canada and soon realised that I was in the company of really serious writers (I mean serious about their craft, not that they were lacking in humour!). It's always great at these types of events to talk to like minded people and spend a whole weekend particpating in creative workshops and soaking up valuable advice (more than once I had that 'ting' moment of, of course, that's what I need to do...)
As I know a lot of writers read this I thought it may be helpful to try and summarise some insightful, helpful information I gleaned from people in the industry.
From the Agents: (my focus was on children's/YA so most of this is taken from those panel discussions):
* Younger children may be more receptive to Series Fiction
* Don't mention in your cover letter that the age group you're targeting has loved your book (it's the agents' judgement that matters)
* There's a surge in popularity for 'Safe', old fashioned types of children's stories
* Publishers are becoming more risk averse as Sales people are always focused on the next big money spinner
* Big message coming across that they don't care about your web presence (blogs, twittering etc). It's the manuscript that lands on their desk they pay attention to
* For 9+ fiction they like a maximum of 80,000 words and for picutre books a max of 500 words (this is all related to translations. They want to be able to sell your book to various countries and English tends to be the 'shortest' language!)
* In your cover letter they like to see that you're serious about your writing
* Why get an Agent? They can talk money for you. They also ensure you maintain a good relationship which your editor as they deal with the rubbish business stuff (and it came across just how much they really know their stuff and the industry!)
* Most encouraged the practice of sending out your manuscript to more than one agent at a time as they understand the long wait we endure...
* If one Agent in a company rejects your manuscript then don't send it to another Agent in the same company
* A lot will work with you on edits before submitting to Publishers (I think this is a good thing)
* After my one to one meetings I realised the importance of choosing the right agent. (i.e. you will want to work with someone who is on your wavelength, and 'gets' your book and characters!)
From all in the Industry:
* Changes to Waterstones Buying and Stock Turn Around policies has had a big impact on fiction (they tend not to bulk buy fiction now which makes it harder for publishers to sell books)
From Authors:
* JoJo Moyes opened the Festival on Saturday morning with a very inspiring and honest account of her road to publication. A big message that came across was that she was grateful for any 'failures' along the way as they just encouraged her to write better and on one occasion 'freed' her writing, allowing her to tackle a more controversial subject.
* Julie Cohen delivered a fantastic workshop on the importance of Pace. 'Nothing should be wasted - each scene should have two or more purposes'. It was full of simple statements such as this and reminders about the importance of conflict which really clicked with me.
I attended other valuable workshops about creativity and going deep into your characters emotions (A good point was made; that sometimes we tend to stick in the safe 'middle ground', not going deep enough).
An overall message I took away with me: you need to work hard at your writing to make it the absolute best it can be (and then an agent/editor/copy editor etc. will come along and make you write and re-write again until it is even MORE perfect!).
And persevere. So many authors seemed to have one thing in common; they didn't give up.
I left with the feeling of I REALLY WANT THIS! I WANT TO BE A WRITER! So guess what, now I'm away to write...
Sunday, 2 September 2012
Escape
A few weeks ago I went on an amazing trip, cruising along the Med, visiting interesting ports in Italy, Croatia and Greece.
I've been thinking about what I could write about the trip to try and capture the experience, so I've come up with a snapshot summary of what has stuck in my head at each port (and on the ship), below::
Venice: Like walking into a film, across ornate bridges, gondolas sweeping past, creepy trees climbing across a midnight blue sky, 'chewing gum' boards strung across fences keeping the streets clean, narrow streets with echoes of ghosts round every corner dressed in capes and masquerade masks, violins playing a haunting melody, luring you deeper into the town where you could easily lose yourself and never return.
Dubrovnik: Like stepping back in time, walking along a wall overlooking rows and rows of houses, a blazing sun piercing blue waters, an overheard conversation reminding me of home (an American girl complaining about the effect Glasgow is having on her sinuses), seeing what looked like Hells Angels bikers sitting in a row on a wall outside an ancient church in the square - like some kind of ironic joke.
Corfu: Blistering heat on walk into town, battered cars lining the street with visors taped to windscreens, small beaches offering an escape to the cool sea, shaded cafe overlooking the sea, a park with an old fashioned bandstand, a modern looking town with crazy looking, laughing mannequins, female beggars pressing their foreheads against pavements in some kind of tortured prayer
Argostoli: Local shops selling oils, wine and spices, fishermen tending their nets, turtles ducking under the boats to eat the small fish, palm trees blowing along the zig zag patterened promenade, a small white church with a staircase winding up to the roof- inside ornate chandeliers, gold and red patterns on the walls and old ladies holding up their hands to their God, swaying and lighting candles, in celebration or in grief?
Santorini: Dazzling white buildings topped with blue, creeping up the steep hillside in a 'cable car', watching poor donkeys carrying fat tourists up break-neck heights, narrow lanes with rows of white clothes and jewellery, a shop keeper enticing me in to taste local fruity wine, sitting in a dazzling white washed cafe overlooking the sea, Greek music playing
Taormina: An hour long drive in a taxi with no air conditioning, driven by a non English speaking, smiley and messy Columbo type - arm permanently hanging out the window who overtakes on the motorway by nearly ramming into the backs of cars; Beautiful little town, art creeping around every corner, paintings and sculptures lining sweeping staircases, hanging flowers, chequered main square, ancient outdoor theatre with breathtaking views over the sea, The Clock tower chimes as we navigate narrow streets and romantic music plays from a shop as we pass a statue of Juliet peering over her baclony
Naples - Capri: Litter and graffiti line the town, escape on a high speed boat to the rich island of Capri, A crowded Fenicular train transports us to the top of the island to winding streets, pretty shops selling local perfume, sit in a shaded cafe where a lizard creeps slowly along the wall
Rome: Crazy busy and hot, beautiful ruins contrast with the modern choas, pizza cooked to perfection, , chased down the street by a man trying to sell me a parasol, another man thrusts a rose in my hand at the spanish steps, crazy beggar at the station trying to direct us to the wrong train
Livorno: Like a poor imitation of Venice, canals flowing through the town centre, an old woman dressed all in white with a painted white face begs for money - touching her tummy trying to fool us into thinking she is 'with child' (miraculous conception), outdoor markets lining the streets with abundant fresh fruit and vegetables (fresher and greener than you'll ever find here), crazy devil-like statue
The ship: late afternoons spent lying on the promenade deck listening to music and reading,running up on deck after dinner to watch the sun set over the sea, peeking out my cabin window at night watching the white froth of the waves crash into the black sea, sampling the best food I've ever tasted, sitting listening to a string quartet play in one of the bars, watching a scuplture of the New York skyline flash pink, green, yellow, purple and red as the song 'New York, New York' played in a bar; sitting in the show room listening to an award winning pianist make his piano 'sing' (his description and I've never heard a piano sound so good). Tempted to stow away (in the dessert cabinet) and never return home...
I've been thinking about what I could write about the trip to try and capture the experience, so I've come up with a snapshot summary of what has stuck in my head at each port (and on the ship), below::
Venice: Like walking into a film, across ornate bridges, gondolas sweeping past, creepy trees climbing across a midnight blue sky, 'chewing gum' boards strung across fences keeping the streets clean, narrow streets with echoes of ghosts round every corner dressed in capes and masquerade masks, violins playing a haunting melody, luring you deeper into the town where you could easily lose yourself and never return.
Dubrovnik: Like stepping back in time, walking along a wall overlooking rows and rows of houses, a blazing sun piercing blue waters, an overheard conversation reminding me of home (an American girl complaining about the effect Glasgow is having on her sinuses), seeing what looked like Hells Angels bikers sitting in a row on a wall outside an ancient church in the square - like some kind of ironic joke.
Corfu: Blistering heat on walk into town, battered cars lining the street with visors taped to windscreens, small beaches offering an escape to the cool sea, shaded cafe overlooking the sea, a park with an old fashioned bandstand, a modern looking town with crazy looking, laughing mannequins, female beggars pressing their foreheads against pavements in some kind of tortured prayer
Argostoli: Local shops selling oils, wine and spices, fishermen tending their nets, turtles ducking under the boats to eat the small fish, palm trees blowing along the zig zag patterened promenade, a small white church with a staircase winding up to the roof- inside ornate chandeliers, gold and red patterns on the walls and old ladies holding up their hands to their God, swaying and lighting candles, in celebration or in grief?
Santorini: Dazzling white buildings topped with blue, creeping up the steep hillside in a 'cable car', watching poor donkeys carrying fat tourists up break-neck heights, narrow lanes with rows of white clothes and jewellery, a shop keeper enticing me in to taste local fruity wine, sitting in a dazzling white washed cafe overlooking the sea, Greek music playing
Taormina: An hour long drive in a taxi with no air conditioning, driven by a non English speaking, smiley and messy Columbo type - arm permanently hanging out the window who overtakes on the motorway by nearly ramming into the backs of cars; Beautiful little town, art creeping around every corner, paintings and sculptures lining sweeping staircases, hanging flowers, chequered main square, ancient outdoor theatre with breathtaking views over the sea, The Clock tower chimes as we navigate narrow streets and romantic music plays from a shop as we pass a statue of Juliet peering over her baclony
Naples - Capri: Litter and graffiti line the town, escape on a high speed boat to the rich island of Capri, A crowded Fenicular train transports us to the top of the island to winding streets, pretty shops selling local perfume, sit in a shaded cafe where a lizard creeps slowly along the wall
Rome: Crazy busy and hot, beautiful ruins contrast with the modern choas, pizza cooked to perfection, , chased down the street by a man trying to sell me a parasol, another man thrusts a rose in my hand at the spanish steps, crazy beggar at the station trying to direct us to the wrong train
Livorno: Like a poor imitation of Venice, canals flowing through the town centre, an old woman dressed all in white with a painted white face begs for money - touching her tummy trying to fool us into thinking she is 'with child' (miraculous conception), outdoor markets lining the streets with abundant fresh fruit and vegetables (fresher and greener than you'll ever find here), crazy devil-like statue
The ship: late afternoons spent lying on the promenade deck listening to music and reading,running up on deck after dinner to watch the sun set over the sea, peeking out my cabin window at night watching the white froth of the waves crash into the black sea, sampling the best food I've ever tasted, sitting listening to a string quartet play in one of the bars, watching a scuplture of the New York skyline flash pink, green, yellow, purple and red as the song 'New York, New York' played in a bar; sitting in the show room listening to an award winning pianist make his piano 'sing' (his description and I've never heard a piano sound so good). Tempted to stow away (in the dessert cabinet) and never return home...
Monday, 16 July 2012
Change
Since the start of 2012 I've felt there's restlessness and change in the air; or at least people expressing the desire to change; to do something new... Maybe it’s just because of my age (thirty two – how did that happen?), but I seem to know a large proportion of people having babies this year, moving on, moving away, getting married, changing jobs, returning to education...
I’ve definitely experienced a sense of restlessness, with a bigger desire to try new things and step out of my comfort zone. As a ‘fixed’ Taurean, (if you believe in all that astrology nonsense), I think I do sometimes have the tendency to cling onto security and bury my head in sameness for a bit too long, before I realise that I need a kick up the bum and that it’s time to shake things up a bit. As I’m sitting typing this, a quote on a bag across from me just caught my eye: ‘Do one thing a day that SCARES YOU.’ I also just recently read a quote someone had posted on Facebook that resonated with me; ‘Stop being afraid of what could go wrong and start being positive about what could go right.’
How many times have you stayed in a situation that you know is no longer right for you, or not grabbed an opportunity, because your fear manages to persuade you that the change will be a disaster? Sometimes it might be, but most of the time if you have a nagging feeling (usually your intuition) telling you to go or it, no matter how difficult that ‘different’ might be, it’s probably the right thing to do.
I’ve realised that I sometimes have a ‘fear’ of writing...that a project I’m working on can seem so daunting or ‘good’ in my head, that I’m afraid that if I start trying to put it down on paper it will fall apart. I think that’s probably the perfectionist control freak in me that is causing that doubt. I’m interested to know though if any other writers also feel this fear?
A writer I enjoy reading when I experience that block, is Jack Kerouac. There’s something about his free style of writing (and endless rambling sentences which seem to break the rules of all punctuation), that makes me realise I should just switch off my rational mind, and let the words flow...
In the past few weeks I’ve put myself forward for opportunities (one relating to writing, the other also sort of related to writing). Whether or not I get anywhere with them, the fact I’m attempting to put myself/my work out there, makes me feel like I’m taking a step towards a positive change. Yesterday I found out a story I entered for a competition got an honourable mention, so that was a tiny boost of encouragement.
Now I’m off to sign up for that sky diving lesson (That’s a joke, not quite ready for that yet, Lorna...)
Monday, 18 June 2012
Nine Lives
It’s been a while since I’ve written on here (you have no idea how appropriate a starting line that is today – SIX times I had to listen to various students murder the song ‘It’s been a while’ today at work - it was like being stuck in an X-factor audition.)
Anyway I’ve been immersing myself in other types of writing/editing which has taken me away from blogging for a bit. All of the sparks of genius I had for blog entries have now faded into fragmented thoughts so I’m rambling a bit... I was debating about doing a blog entry on that book everyone won’t shut up about – Fifty Shades of Grey- but my Mum reads this and it’s wrong to talk about sex in front of your Mum...For the record, although the book is trash, it’s the kind of trash you get drawn in to and can’t put down. A bit like tuning into an episode of Made in Chelsea when you know you should look away but you’re in awe at the ridiculousness of the characters. It’s pure mindless escapism... and when you tend to over analyse life in the manner in which I do I’m in need of that once in a while...
So onto something more worthy of my time. Last month I saw one of the best films I’ve seen in a long time; Cafe de Flore. The title is in reference to the song, which connects central characters of the story. It’s a film about love; love between a mother and her down syndrome son and a DJ who leaves one ‘soul mate’ for another...The two separate stories run side by side and are set in different decades and it isn’t until the film nears the end the connections all become clear. I loved the story as it touched on the concept of soul mates and reincarnation. Reincarnation is something I’ve had a fascination with for years after reading the book Journey of Souls (which I referenced in an earlier blog post ‘Drown’). The idea that people come into your life who’ve you’ve maybe met before in another lifetime...it’s a thought that sometimes niggles at the back of my mind when I meet people I feel inexplicable connections with, or have immediate reactions to (whether positive or negative). The film also has a beautiful soundtrack; when Sigur Ros came on I thought the air conditioning in the cinema had been turned on full blast I had so many goosebumps running up my arms. I don’t want to ruin the story by saying any more so go and rent it on DVD when it comes out!
Sunday, 22 April 2012
Paris, je t'aime
Writers, artists, creative people if you're feeling that your soul is being eroded by everyday life (i.e. by that thing called a day job that pays your mortgage or whatever) then I recommend a trip to Paris. Many a morning I've fantasised about hopping on a plane and flying off here so a few weeks ago that became a reality - I packed my case and took off alone. Halfway along the runway I did have a niggling feeling of; hmm I'm going to a city I've never been to, alone, me, of no sense of direction; is this a good plan? But I survived to tell the tale and I'm pleased to report I only got 'lost' once when I couldn't figure out how to get across the road to the other side of La Seine outside Musee D'Orsay. Trust me, it's more complicated than it looks...
The photo at the top is my vision of Paris - spindly trees and old fashioned lamp posts that evoke a sense of stepping back in time. I took that photo when I was on La Batobus sailing down La Seine (a very relaxing way to travel and it gives you good views).
One of the first places I headed to when I arrived was the Louvre and standing outside this place is amazing, never mind venturing inside to see the art. The architecture and sculptures outside are awe inspiring; the pyramid in the centre reminded me of a Dali painting; a futuristic structure in the middle of classic images.
I'm not sure if it was because I was too tired when I visited the Louvre, but I did get the sense that the art/sheer size of the place was too overwhelming for me and I had a much better time at Musee D'orsay. After my visit here I've become a big fan of Jean Francois Millet - I could have looked at the painting 'Le Printemps' for hours; See it here. This online image doesn't do it justice as the light shining from it was mesmerising. I also loved the Pictorialism Photography section (where the artists create an optical blur, mixing photography with engraving and drawing to create an ambigious, dreamy image). I particularly liked the dark and mysterious images of Edward Steichen.
The Art Nouveau section was also amazing - walking through living rooms and bedrooms furnished by great artists like Gaudi. I love the delicate and intricate Art Nouveau style and how it's embedded across the city. Even the metro signs in Paris are pretty...
One of my favourite 'parks' was Jardin de Luxembourg and on my walk to the entrance I had a strange feeling of de ja vu, like I'd been here in a past life. I like how seats are left out in the parks in Paris, inviting people to sit by the ponds and fountains and watch the world go by. I enjoyed watching two old men play chess on a bench, a little girl squeezing her head through the gap in the bench, studying them intently. I also noticed an old couple walking hand in hand through the park- they must have been in their late seventies- and the old man suddenly pulled her to him and kissed her passionately. It was such an unexpected gesture; it filled me with a sense of hope or something.
My hotel was two minutes from the Shakespeare and Co. bookshop. One of my favourite films of all time is 'Before Sunset' and the film opens with a scene inside this book shop. Sadly I didn't find Ethan Hawke inside but I loved this place so much! Wall to wall books; little nooks and crannies where you can sit and read, old fashioned typewriters hidden in corners. Upstairs takes you to the reading library, dedicated to Sylvia Beach, who owned the orginal shop (and used to let Hemingway borrow loads of books on credit according to his accounts of Paris in 'A Moveable Feast'). There were lots of people sitting reading in the 'library' and a table overlooking the window was set up with an old typewriter, giving the sense that some literary ghost was sitting there...Next door were two make-shift beds (which poor writers can apparently make use of) and an old piano (and of course more books...). A boy sat down at the piano and started to play music which added a nice atmosphere to the place. On my way out I'm sure he started to play what sounded like Nirvana's 'Smells like Teen Spirit'. Just outside this room a girl sat in a corner sketching images from a book. The wall above her head was covered with post-it notes, adorned with comments from visitors from all around the world. One had a passport photograph attached of a very dramatic and serious looking couple (I'm sure they must have been Italian).
If you ever visit the bookshop make sure you browse the Shakespeare shelves along the back wall downstairs. You might find a note hidden in amongst the books, penned by me. I'm hoping someone interesting finds it and follows my instructions to email me about what they love about Paris...
One of my favourite streets was just around the corner from Shakespeare and Co: 'Rue Galande'. You'll find quirky little shops, a great creperie and a small cinema along here.
I was lucky enough to visit Notre Dame Cathedral when a service had just started. Hearing the choir singing in such as magnificant building, watching as a cloud of incense snaked upwards towards the sunlight streaming in through the stain glass windows gave me goosebumps. As I wandered around the cathedral I also saw an outline of a man through the confessional screen, standing talking to a priest, gesturing in such a serious manner I wondered what sins he'd committed...
It's difficult to capture in words the effect Paris can have on your mind. Every corner you turn there's something which fires your imagination. Artists line La Seine; even set up home in the museums (one woman was painting a Pierre Bonnard picture in Musee d'orsay stroke by stroke- an eerily accurate replica).
One image which will stay with me was seeing a young Japanese woman walking along a winding street in Ile St- Louis, dressed in a black leather jacket, a white wedding dress underneath and the happiest smile on her face. I couldn't see anyone who might be her husband with her; she looked like she was in some sort of a trance and a part of me wondered if she had put on the dress and was wandering the streets of Paris, marrying the city. I told you; it's difficult to put into words the effect it has on your mind...
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