Showing posts with label Ursula Le Guin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ursula Le Guin. Show all posts

Sunday, November 23, 2014

How NOT to write a blog post...

How not to write a blog post:

1) Have final university assignments to complete

2) Have paid work with a deadline

3) Run the last story writing competition for Fabo 2014 (with heartfelt thanks to Tania Hutley) at www.fabostory.wordpress.com (entries are closed, and I am now judging the winners)

4) Get a cold

5) Start reading books from the enormous tbr pile beside your bed as soon as 1) is posted away to your course controller (so far I've read Blue Lily, Lily Blue by Maggie Stiefvater and Every Breath by Ellie Marney)

6) Watch movies (I recommend Mud) and all 7 series of Buffy the Vampire Slayer to avoid/get you through doing 1) and 2)

7) Be down about the state of publishing, which seems to be turning in ever decreasing circles these days. Lists have got shorter, publishers fewer, and competition fiercer. Publishers are looking for safe bets, blockbusters-in-waiting, the next big thing. I've recently had a couple of accepted projects subsequently declined. And I'm not the only one to whom this has happened.

8) Spend time looking for the silver lining to 7)

9) Stare at the looming prospect of Christmas that sucks the air out of everything else from now until January 1st

10) Read other peoples blog posts about what you should put in a blog post

11) Think a lot about writing (rather than doing any)

12) Listen to/watch your writing heroes say amazing things about the art of writing



See what I did there? :)


Thursday, August 29, 2013

Living the dream...

I am somewhat surprised by folk who dream of meeting and chatting with their author idols. Not because they have them and I don't - oh no - I have author idols (Jane Austen -  although meeting her would probably mean sifting some dust through my fingers which I imagine would be reasonably unsatisfying, Ursula Le Guin, Neil Gaiman - who I did get the chance to meet but didn't, Maggie Steifvater, and a small but very select bunch of others who I truly admire). I have author/illustrator idols as well (Maurice Sendak, Theodore Geisel - to name a couple) and a few illustrators too. I just don't really want to meet them.

My relationship with them happens on the page. They're very good relationships. Happy, magical ones even. I'm okay listening to my idols talk and happy enough to be in the same elevator with them, or best of all have them buy my book without any word about it from me (although I am sceptical about miracles so lets not dwell on that last one). I'm just not so fussed about their process - because I have one of my own and it's taken me awhile to get to that and if I change it inorganically it might stop working. I'm not that fussed about what they eat, or whether we enjoy the same tv programmes or have our coffee in the same way  - "Why yes I do peg my sweaters under the arms when I hang them out to dry," or 'Yes it is pantene and don't be jealous, but it did happen overnight."

I have no idea what I'd want to say to them or what I would want to know about them. They're human beings just like me so our habits probably aren't that dissimilar apart from the fact they're best sellers so their lifestyle probably does include a bit more international travel and public speaking than mine. I just want to read their books because, really, they tell me everything I want to know. They teach me what beautiful sentences and cunning word play look like. They demonstrate effective settings, satisfying plots and credible character developments. I can learn about motifs, metaphor, imagery, and onomatopeia. Why ask the writer what they were trying to do in a particular passage, or plot twist? - the challenge is mine as reader to work it out.

I have met and talked to some starry authors but it was jolly hard work composing sentences which didn't make it sound like I'd had a stroke or swallowed a dictionary of cliches, or a shipload of ums. My main aim was to sound smart enough not to embarrass myself which meant my questions weren't based on things I really desperately wanted to know (especially because there weren't things I desperately wanted to know) but on things I though the writer might want to talk about. If cannibals are correct in their theories I might have been better off eating their brains but it would be cheating to be using their skills when really I would be better off developing my own. I could try and discover whether their values and politics and beliefs are similar to my own but asking runs the risk of finding out that they aren't which might be disappointing.

Ultimately, talking to my author idols would be a false or transient relationship. I would much rather be Neil Gaiman's Diana Wynne Jones or Justine Larbalestier's Holly Black but this is a very different thing. And I already have my own writery/illustratery friends with whom I discuss the kinds of things that Neil and Diana used to talk about and Justine and Holly talk about now. And I already get to do that. It would seem I am already living the dream...

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

A little link love...

Because I am easily distracted from my key task and I care about you all so much here are some juicy links to keep you going. Thanks to Dylan Horrocks and Maureen Crisp for alerting me to this wonderful piece by the brilliant Ursula Le Guin (I am a lifetime fan of her Wizard of Earthsea books) on the lit versus genre fiction debate. As Ms Le Guin so wisely says, no genre is inherently, categorically superior or inferior.


And this post by author Emma Darwin neatly explains why breaking the writing rules (even when other successful writers seem to get away with it) is still a bad idea.


Okay back to the grindstone...