Maybe the new normal? ...

Time flew and it's no longer August and I'm well overdue for another blog post.

Covid19 continues to change and influence our lives. After a small resurgence in Auckland we are back to some heavier restrictions. I'm comfortable with this - I don't want this disease and I don't want to give it to anyone else, so I'm happy to do what is necessary to knock it back. But this means events and bookings I had have been postponed, cancelled, or altered. Uncertainty is the name of the game but things are uncertain for everybody so I'm doing my best to roll with the changes. Today I physically visited a school, the lovely Albany Primary on the north shore, but protocols meant I wasn't able to do my presentations in the classrooms, hall or library. Instead I spoke to the children via an internal zoom-style system. I'm so glad the school decided to proceed with the visit - I was grateful to have the opportunity. Just like other businesses must adapt to the new arrangements I've come to realise I need to be able to deliver my talks in new and different ways.  This may or may not be the new normal but I want to have the skills to meet any need. And the experience was very positive, the technology ran well, and the students were great.

Some things I discovered about delivering content via technology:

1. You still need to project your voice, just like you are talking to the back of the hall.

2. Test that the students can hear you (show of hands), and can see the pages if you are reading them a book. Make sure you know the system for classes to let you know if they are experiencing issues and what you can do if they are (i.e. where are the audio-visual mutes, is there a way to see yourself, who is your tech help etc...) 

3. Ask for any questions to be collected and provided in advance, or if a class plans to ask them directly so you can connect when appropriate. 

4. If many classes are connecting they will be muted. Usually my sessions are very interactive with me asking the children questions, with the answers leading them on to the next part of my talk. It can be empowering for them to show they already have some of the answers and interaction also helps keep the children engaged. 100% listening is hard for anybody, especially over longer sessions. You'll need to proactively think about alternatives, find other ways to keep their energy up, and remember this is a different ball game. 

5. Even though technology separates you from your audience, keep your own energy high because you set the tone. Be just as excited and passionate as you would in person.

6. Always have a plan B and a plan C and be ready to switch if things aren't working. This is another good reason to take these kinds of opportunities - practice and experience will help you expand the tools in your toolbox. And sometimes you just have to roll with a less than ideal scenario. 

7. If you haven't had any experience with this kind of technology see if you can observe someone else using it. I've always thought it would be useful to have a school visit mentoring system where people new to visits can accompany someone with experience. If anyone ever wants to come along with me (unpaid, and the school would need to be willing), hit me up. I don't have all the answers, and ultimately everyone needs to devise their own speaking programme but I feel that knowing some of the parameters would be helpful for folk visiting a school for the first time on their own. 

In other news, I've seen roughs for the picture book being published by Penguin Random House next year, and I'm thrilled with the way this is coming together. Despite everything with Covid19 and the level changes we have been experiencing, progress is still happening.    

And I thought you might be interested in this post by agent Janet Reid. She talks about the writer's desire to offer up a lot of info/backstory early on in a manuscript and counsels against it. The reader doesn't need to know it all upfront. The idea is to make them want to know, to read on to find out ...

Annual stocktake ....

So here I am, at the end of the world year, looking back at what I got up to, what I achieved, and what I didn't achieve. And looking toward 2020, wondering what it might hold for me. A stocktake is always interesting and useful.

I had four school visits. This is lower than recent years, and most of my invitations came directly, rather than through second parties (this is a complete 180 on previous experiences). I guess this may be a reflection of my publishing hiatus. Perhaps this might change now I'm back on an upswing. But its hard to be certain. In many ways I feel like I'm starting over again. But I'm not a beginner anymore. It's a little weird.

I was involved in several conferences, one 'Speed Date the Author' event, was invited to give a talk, ran two week-long, creative writing camps for school students, and two day-long picture book writing workshops for adults. There were a couple of other small unpaid gigs, and I mentored another writer over the year. I'm very familiar with public speaking, feel comfortable creating content for these events, and feel as nervous as if I was giving my first talk ever, every time. Yay nerves, my constant companion these last 'many mumble' years.

I titivated a few larger projects but didn't complete any of them, and wrote three new short stories and seven new picture books (result!). One picture book manuscript from 2018 found a home this year, and is one of two that will be published next year. I have a bunch of irons in the fire, and don't expect any further results until next year. I had one book out this year, Time Machine & Other Stories, of which I am very proud. Yay!!

I was involved again in Fabostory which is such a great way to get young people writing (also very proud to be a part of this), will be judging a picture book writing competition again over the summer break (194 entries - yikes!), and I've blogged, reviewed books for a few different platforms, and written a few articles. I interviewed somebody this year too which was a first for me. You can teach an old dog after all.  I threw my hat in the ring for a bunch of things such as speaking opportunities, residencies, and the like, and can report that so far I have had zero success. Hmm, I'll probably stop doing that for a while until I've licked all my wounds, and then get back to it.

So not too much of a slack arse then. But definitely a different combo of things this year. The only thing a writer really has any control over is the content they create, and turning up. The rest is all in other people's hands, with a dash of luck thrown in. I don't think I'd do anything differently. What about you? What did you get up to?

So, next year. As always, tis mostly a mystery. It will involve lots of waiting (see comment above re: irons in the fire) and frequent shaking of the patience jar to activate the contents. I have my regular Picture Book Writing Workshop and Write Like an Author Camp gigs and I'm booked in for an event mid year. I have a new writing project I want to work on, but I have some pre-project doubts and uncertainties, so I'll be girding my loins to try jump those hurdles. And that's it. That's all there is on the menu. I don't feel too worried. That's how things usually look at this time of year. And I don't have any big plans or strategies for things I think I should do. One thing I have learnt over the last few years is the value of writing retreats. I think I will try to book at least one of those in for 2020. Whaddaya reckon, retreat buddies?

Looking back at my last post (on overthinking) I don't really have many further survival strategies. At this time of year the most obvious one is to remind yourself that you have worked hard over the year (do a stocktake to remind yourself what you got up to), and it's important to take a proper holiday. Go relax over your favourite things to do, with your favourite people. Breathe deep and empty your mind. Recharge the batteries, read some books and smell the roses. If creating content is the thing we can control, we need to take care of our creativity. Ask yourself, what can you do for yours?

And last but by no means least, here is a really interesting insight on the topic of diversity and acknowledging our own blindspots when writing, by literary agent Janet Reid

Some magpie behaviour...

A friend recently had some toxic blow-back from a book review she posted. The author took exception to this person's view of the book and got in touch personally several times to express their disapproval. This is incredibly poor form, and behaviour that won't win you any friends long term. People tend to remember when you tore a strip off them, and not in a good way. And if reviewers are trying to get a rise out of you, then rising to the bait is achieving their ends not yours. Truly, the best policy is to never respond. Writer Maggie Stiefvater has a classy attitude to reviews good and bad, that takes the sting out of the one star ones and and demonstrates why getting some negative response can actually be desirable.

And underling Maggie's point, agent Janet Reid (and friend) had this to say

Jessica Snell picked up the thread on book reviews (and how readers find books) with this:

Although many of the books I read are ones I've heard of via word-of-mouth (mostly from my brother and my mom, honestly; I know and trust their taste), I probably find most of my books via book reviews.

And the thing is, those book reviews don't have to be positive. Sometimes the reviewer doesn't like the book, but if she's a good reviewer, she'll say *why* she doesn't like it, and I'll know whether or not that reason would be a deal-breaker for *me*. Sometimes I know I'd like the book for the very reason the reviewer hated it, and I'll go ahead and pick it up.

So, I guess what I'm saying is: dear authors, don't be too discouraged by bad reviews. Well-written bad reviews might get you just as many readers as the good ones.

Very very true. One of our sayings back in my publicity days was "Get reviews. Good or bad, doesn't matter."

Now it's even more important because any mention of a book increases its discoverability.

Janet Reid has also made a few good comments that resonated with me, on a range of other issues. The first is about marketing your books. It's a long game folks. Of course all authors think their own book is an incredible work of heartbreaking genius, and even if they are making an objective assessment and are right, no self respecting reader is going to take that on face value. They want to hear it from someone they trust who has no vested interest in the sale/purchase of the book.

And then there's the one about when publishers give off warning signals  that the ship isn't quite so ship shape. Number 6 especially gave me pause - Publishing is Broken; We're Going to Fix It.  Confidence is a good quality in a entrepreneur. So is iron clad optimism.  Hubris is not.  Someone who tells you they're going to fix an industry they've never worked in is textbook hubris . I recognized this one...I'd heard it before and that hadn't worked out so well then either. If someone says this to you, wait to see their fix in action before jumping on board. Do your homework people. Ms Reid's blog is a good place to start.

And last but not least this one - perhaps the most sobering of all my links today - which pretty much concludes with  'Bottom line: it's a whole lot harder to stay published than to get published'. That's a hurdle (or dark long corridor of hurdles) that you can't imagine when you are working so hard on breaking in, but it's a reality for a significant proportion of all writers, and an issue that many mid-career writers grapple with. Getting published isn't a lifetime pass in to the publishing world, or a guarantee of future publication. More on this I think next time.....

Thrilled and terrified...

The release of a book is simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. Up till that moment the book has just had potential and promise. Now it is up to people to decide whether it is something they like and want to buy. Now readers will have a read and make up their own minds. As they should. My marketing and promotion strategy has always been kind of organic, and long term. Agent Janet Reid talks about the same sort of thing here and I think this has always been my philosophy. I'm not keen on being actively 'sold to' so I try to avoid doing this to others. And reading the phrase 'the next big thing, or 'by the next (insert famous author's name here)' about a new book hot off the press makes me grumpy. I want to hear what other readers think. Genuine word of mouth is not something you can manufacture.

Yet again there is much debate about the suitability of books for their target audience. In particular the winner of the 2014 Carnegie Medal, The Bunker Diary, by Kevin Brooks. Folk have been outraged that such a bleak book can win a prize. Because now more teens might read it. Nicola Morgan talks very thoughtfully about this fact, and our desire to protect young people, here.  I've talked about my stance on this issue before. I believe children and teens are self limiting and smart readers. There is no magic transformation into adulthood from adolescence. It can't happen in a vacuum. Teenagers must have access to information in order to become responsible, empathetic adults. Better that they read about difficult topics in a book, than have to experience them first hand in order to understand. Letting teens read books like The Bunker Diary might actually be a better form of protection for them.

And I loved this terrific smart response to that annoying article in Slate admonishing adults who choose to read YA books. It made my day. Because:

Critics who treat adult as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence. - CS Lewis

But you should really go and read the whole thing. Or an extended version of CS Lewis's original article here.

Getting ready...

Now 2014 has arrived, suddenly my trip south is looming large like a charging elephant in the rear view mirror.  Someone asked me the other day if I'd started packing yet. No? Will I need 6 and a half weeks? What if I pack all my undies now? I bought some Doc Martens today - my feet are ready.

I thought I'd start the year off with some juicy links to feed the mind and fuel the soul. I like agent Janet Reid's suggestion here on what to say when someone asks you how book sales are going. Her reasoning is sound I think.

Blog reader and starry librarian, Angela Soutar, suggested I check out this lady. Good call Angela. This post seemed especially pertinent (although it's all good). 'Make it urgent' seems like a good philosophy. You can be Donna Tartt and have ten years between novels but there probably aren't that many writers who can sustain the level of interest Ms Tartt is managing. And while her publishing/marketing machine is VERY switched on and does all the smart things to keep the audiences interest current I can't help thinking that its also just partly that the stars are lined up and things are hanging just right for Donna. We can't all be Donna. I'm going to assume it's urgent.

Along with the cool stuff, there will always be the irksome. The opening statement to this piece says that Kate Atkinson's award win (for her book Life After Life) shows that great writing can also be entertaining. I didn't realise that 'challenging' or 'great' writing had previously been mutually exclusive of 'entertainment'. Why is 'entertainment' an unimportant and/or undesired quality in a book?? And its lack, somehow a measure of greatness? If it is not entertainment, then I can't help thinking of a book as the text of a subject I don't wish to learn, or perhaps a punishment, or maybe, worthy: none of which is great.

And lastly, (but not leastly) I had a nice mention of one of my books in the Listener - A Winter's Day in 1939 was one of children's author Kyle Mewburn's reads in 2013. 

The universe's gimlet eyes...

Oh fresh watermelon and fragrant blushing peaches, how I love you (although the keyboard is not so much the fan). Summer fruits are, for me, a highlight of the season - Eton Mess anyone?

I am contemplating being not so lazy. Last night the History Channel on telly showed a documentary on Vikings. I took notes and  had to prop my eyelids open several times. On a Saturday night. Really, the lengths I go to for my readers. Especially when you think there are, like, just two of you. I love you both.

And sometimes, I am sure, the universe is trying to speak to me - if it is, it's saying "get off yo' lazy ass and finish writing that sequel to Jack the Viking". Okay, okay, I heard you. It's just I want to make it totes amazing and that takes, like, really really hard work.

Sometimes when the universe speaks to me it freaks me out a little. Someone recently posted a link on facebook the title of which included the word gimlet, and my immediate reaction was to think what an excellent little word that was and I must include it in a story soon. Lo' and behold the next page I turned to in the book I was reading (about ten minutes after my facebooking adventure) included the word gimlet. Having not seen that word in a book, or anywhere else for that matter for more than a few years I really am wondering why it's here now, being so provocative. Don't be surprised if you see the word gimlet turn up in some of my writing soon. Who knows what might happen if I don't use it...

And because I love giving y'all advice here's some good oil from JetReidLiterary on 'plot' - brief, yet oh so smart. And then a reminder from self-pubbed author Lexi Revellian on the value of persistence. I'm not sure I ever want persistence to matter more than talent.  And not all her commentors agree that persistence will pay off, but I think it is a necessary approach to writing in so many ways. And as Revellian points out, "The nice thing about ebooks is that, unlike print books, they do not have a shelf life. No one will rip off their covers and send them back to be pulped. They can sit around twiddling their fingers until their moment in the sun arrives."   

Getting discouraged, sadly, is a common experience for many authors. It is a discouraging business in so many ways. I can't promise you publication, sales, awards or any other kind of writing success. Nobody knows what tomorrow holds - I don't believe in clairvoyancy (even if the universe does chat with me on a regular basis) - but I do believe in hyphens the long game. And for that you need persistence.

Gaze into my crystal (rejectomancy) ball...

Some days should just not be allowed. At the moment it is days with a 'y' in them.  Despite my mood I have managed to find some more juicy links for you. There is this lovely run down on 25 things every writer should know about rejection from terrible minds (via janet reid ). I have wittered on about the subtle art of rejectomancy in the past. Here Mr Wendig explains how time and multiple rejections hone our rejectomancy skills (No. 24). The more you read, the more you know about the writing business, the more able you are to recognise what different types of rejection are actually telling you. Here, finally, is a plus in having received many rejections. There are differences and they do have different meanings. Some are indeed positive and encouraging and manage to give you hope and faith about your writing even though they are still saying 'no'. I think it is also important to note that editors/agents do not always get it right and one rejection should not be seen as the final word on a manuscript.

My other lovely link is uplifting and disheartening all at once - Sandra, in her post on Bad Reviews, reminds us that relying on the praise of others is ultimately futile. There is a wonderful logic to this that cheers me up, however having had some nice reviews recently I am now wondering if I must regard these with the same eye with which I would regard a poor review. Perhaps it is futile to rely on the praise of others but what I will cling on to is the idea that people are reading my book.