Evaluating Masterclasses - Part 2

Ken Follet’s talk on the history and development of the paperback thriller was a step beyond those of his contemporaries, providing nuggets of sound advice (namely, the ramping up of suspense or the change in the course of the story every 4 to 6 pages). However, the presentation was little more than a documentary. Even the Q&A session didn’t allow much of a two-way discussion. It was interesting and the ground work covered was clearly a “need to know” for those following in the footsteps of previous thriller writers, but it might better serve the general public as a one hour television programme.

Ken’s talk fell into the category of informative rhetoric, a category shared by the two agents (Ben Mason and Luigi Bonomi). Their formidable knowledge of the business and their statistical facts about professional publication were as brutally honest as Jim Crace. They shared advice that may be plucked from the pages of the Writers Handbook or the Writers and Artists Yearbook and discussed the steps from writing to publication. Guidance that, while essential to all new writers, I found had little significance to me at the time; having the good fortune to know a literary agent (who has answered all my questions) and currently being in no position to approach an agent, let alone publication.

Yet, they were of more immediate use to me as a writer (who would be looking for representation) than Robert Ronsson’s practical applicator masterclass on self publishing and how best to promote and market oneself. I don’t intend to self publish. So, while this talk was invaluable and its field of reference deep (information a writer looking to self publish wouldn’t find elsewhere), it was of far less importance to me.

Another practical applicator, Ann Lingard’s presentation on research, covered the collaborations between authors and the science community. It raised interesting points about the usefulness of SciTalk (her online project) and the importance and relevance of research to a manuscript as a whole. She explained that research should be used to enhance the world of one’s story not stultify it with detail. She discussed the creation of characters with a science background: they are human beings with human needs. The plot doesn’t have to revolve entirely or at all around their role. “A story about an accountant,” she says, “doesn’t have to be about accountancy”.

Ken Follet, too, discussed the level of research he has carried out for each of his books and how that provided an extra element for a readership to hang on: readers love to think they are learning something. However, his talk didn’t provide the moment of epiphany generated by Ann’s, which demonstrated how research can help us learn things about the characters. Where and how the character works can be a great way to show the character to the reader, providing the writer with many more scenes in which to develop their characters or themes – veritable gold dust.

By contrast, the hands on, tear-it-apart and look inside it, classes provided by James Roose-Evans (on playwrights) and Linda Thompson (breaking down a BBC script for ‘Casualty’) spent as much time on practical discussions as they did on anecdotes. These practical applicators could be argued as being limited in their appeal to one such as myself: not wishing to write for stage or television. But, that is to ignore the accessibility and opportunity presented by all the masterclasses, as I have mentioned above: ideas are transferable; media feed into each another.

When Linda spoke of ‘Casualty’ having one main plot and two sub plots, and that the themes of each mirror the others to create cohesion and synchronicity, her words were just as important when considering the use of subplots in a novel (mirroring subplots, in my opinion, not being essential though they do lend weight to an argument). And, when James suggested a playwright needs to know everything about his characters, not just from a background point-of-view, but also where they were before the current scene, and where they will be afterwards, he provided us novelists with insight: we have a vast number of considerations that may not reach the page but do provide depth (not just for the characters but for the scene and location).

Rather than having little regard for the messages and words of wisdom shared in some of the masterclasses, I understand that the presented knowledge feeds into each other. I’ve catalogued the discussions and will return to them when they become relevant to me.

That said, by far my most useful and informative masterclass has been the skills implementation of Jim Crace’s prose stripping. Hands-on writing-driven teaching holds, for me, the most essential learning elements. With Jim’s deep and extensive look at the inner workings of sentences, word choice and structural design, the relevance of his cynicism and realism from back in the January finally made sense. By getting the students to reconsider the way they critique and write, and their choice of words in any given sentence and then to apply that, he freed our understanding of the craft of writing in a way that the other masterclasses didn’t.

Skills implementation highlights something I have come to appreciate with regard to many of the questions I, and others, have posed to the agent I know. We cannot waste our time on decoration when the structure needs work. Neither my work nor my ability is yet ready for publication and I need to focus my attention there.

A masterclass’s effectiveness is dependent upon the mindset of individual students. Their variations of style are as important as what is said or shown on a slide. A set of stilted, classroom led lessons poring over cold hard facts and “how it has all been done before” does little to garner audience participation or memory after the event. Acting during James Roose-Evan’s playwright discussion, and stripping sentences of another student’s work with Jim Crace have stayed with me. And, while the practicalities and usefulness of each masterclass greatly differ, they each have their purpose and their place. Not just in instruction but in awareness and the suggestibility of how to open doors.

Evaluating Masterclasses - Part 1

This is the second essay from my NAW Professional Development Portfolio. Comprised of two parts, it is my personal view of the masterclasses I have attended - which means it is not a reflection of the quality or content but my perception of how useful those masterclasses have been to me and my learning:

-------------------------------------

The masterclasses have covered a wide range of discussions and skillsets. But, I have found that many aspects of these discussions have been rhetorical, anecdotal, or statistical in nature. Only a few have had practical analysis.

A second issue hinges on the timeliness of a masterclass and where the student is (in their own head). A student involved with reassessing their style or troubled by how exactly they should weight the pace of their narrative is not going to find a talk on the current trends and necessities of submissions to agents of any relevance – which does not diminish the quality of the talk itself. It does mean that areas of perceived irrelevance may lead to the listener overlooking an important message about core skills. Furthermore, much of what has been said that was not of a statistical and set-in-stone nature may be thought of as a one-off or very personal situation for the speaker.

The masterclasses I’ve observed may be categorised into one of the following types:

• Anecodotal inconsequence (this is how I did it)
• Informative rhetoric (this is how it is)
• Practical applicator (this is how you can do it)
• Skills implementation (try this for yourself)

However, there is always a message of some significance in every masterclass. While the categorisations above don’t necessarily make one more important than another, I have ordered the categories, as I perceive them, from least to most effective. The practical applicator and skills implementation types are more applicable to my current needs and mindset, which are: choosing scenes for their appropriateness and relevance to a story and maintaining brevity by avoiding irrelevant description that does not further the action or narrative.

Talks and classes falling into the category of anecdotal inconsequence may enthuse one listener but bore another. Their topics and situations are not directly replicated by, or transferable to, the circumstances of the students – but are unique to the speaker and their subject.

Barry Turner was one such speaker, whose positive and affirming discussion opened our course in January 2007. The encouraging tale he told of his own introduction to media and onwards into writing was interesting but indicative of the time at which he started out – the launch of television and radio. It had little or no significance other than anecdotally. Again, this by no means diminishes what Barry had to say for his “carpe diem” boldness really excited the students.

The next masterclass was the polar opposite of Barry’s. Jim Crace talked us cautiously through our intended directions and interests and mulled over the difficulties of our labours of love. His was a very sobering discussion, making it clear that we needed to be the passionate ones about our work, that we aren’t guaranteed success, and that some people may have the inclination to write, but not the ability. It ended somewhat bluntly with his admission that he would, in two books time, stop writing altogether! What were we to make of this? Do writers have a self imposed shelf life, only so much in themselves to lend to paper?

The different stances of these two speakers seemed to say far more about their outlook on life, their journey to publication, and successes or setbacks than they did about the audience’s own future endeavours. In Jim’s case this had a greater sense of realism given his interest in the education of new writers. Whatever their positions, cynical realism or intrepid optimism, perhaps both messages were affirming and bookend every masterclass and lesson that followed: encouragement to strive for what we want to achieve matched alongside (not against) our egos stripped of all naivety. That this may be a good thing does not necessarily mean they were of any proactive assistance to the studying writer.

Working for a library service I have attended several author events and talks (Tracey Chevalier, Jodi Picoult, Salley Vickers, Colin Dexter, Lionel Shriver, Freya North, Cynthia Harrod-Eagles, Ann Widdecombe). All were pitched at a readership level, with interests in the writers’ origins and the concoction of characters and plot. The anecdotal inconsequence never focused any deeper than biography or research, i.e. never touching on the elements that comprise a certain paragraph: on changing subjects, using a metaphor to infer a character’s point of view, or relating a memory that provides synchronicity to the unfolding scene.

The anecdotal inconsequence of Catherine O’Flynn’s masterclass was symptomatic of those other writers. She has an innate ability to write without consideration for how she does it. She has a set routine that she maintains but she doesn’t appear to worry over the disparate skills necessary to juggle the creation of a story. As with the other writers her talk never entered into deep discussions on the complexities of maintaining reader interest, while levelling their narrative for clarity, pace, action and dialogue.

The masterclasses have covered a number of subjects, from self publishing to the expectations of an agent to the operations of the Times Newspaper. We have been handed the broad canvas of the industry’s workings as well as views of the many doorways that might provide access. However, I am reminded that, short of being a celebrity, the only thing that truly sells a manuscript to an agent or publisher is the manuscript, and thereby the talent of the writer – everything else is decoration. In my particular case – a single-minded view to becoming a novelist – the decoration, aside from being informative, is irrelevant. Counter to this is the argument that these masterclasses are meant to refocus my attention and reinforce the lesson that Jim, in particular, went to great lengths to explain: no-one can do it but me.

Though, again, that is not to diminish the masterclasses, since all the speakers that have taken the time to prepare and discuss their subjects with us have been supportive and they have been open to students contacting them at a later date.

Critically Reviewing 3 How-To Write Books

So there we have it, you can now access my full essay on Critically Reviewing 3 How-To Write Books:

• Part 1
• Part 2
• Part 3

I hope it gets you thinking ;)

National Academy of Writing's First Anthology

Available through Amazon, this is the taste of things to come.

A few weeks ago we had an evening of presentations and readings given by a number of NAW students, including myself (unsurprisingly giving a talk on Online Writing Communities and the Litopian Model), which received much acclaim from a number of publishing folk from:

Bloomsbury Director Richard Charkin, author David Lodge, Times Newspaper and Murdoch's News Corporation, and then some.

As part of our yearly roundup of developments some of our luckier members had their work included in our first anthology (lucky for some - sadly I didn't make the grade this year, due to a lack of appropriate offerings). It's pretty chocker anyway, totally rammed with the latest talent about to hit the shelves (once we all get our modules out the way).

So, head on over to Amazon and get yourself a copy of the Anthology.

Masterclass with the Agent Luigi Bonomi

Some facts

The market is overcrowded – very competitive.

• of 200,000 books sold per year, 190,000 sold less than 3000 copies.
• of 85,000 new (first-time) books published – 60,000 sold an average of 18 books
• it costs a publisher £7500 to publish a book (printing, marketing, design, distribution) and that doesn’t include any advance – generally it is reckoned that 20,000 must be sold to cover costs

As a result lists are being dramatically cut.

The new writer therefore has to stand out. The question is how? First look at the market – what is selling?

The market is divided between literary fiction and commercial fiction (a distinction that is beginning to dissolve)

• Literary Fiction takes about 5% of the market. Important to have a big concept, big theme, not parochial small town ideas. Often what sells it is Prizes, and programmes like Richard and Judy (which is ending). Original structure and good writing is important – e.g. The Book Thief.
• Commercial Fiction takes about 95% of the market. Despite reports sales are vibrant – but in specific areas – sci-fi is quiet, crime is overcrowded, thrillers and romance are thriving. The pending recession suggests that like in the 80s (look at trends then) ‘sex and shopping’ is a likely to make a comeback. Other strong areas: (post Dan Brown) adventure and history (with esoteric references), male relationships (with father, with son, with woman).
• Children’s market is strong – especially 7-12 years

How do you get an agent?

The agent’s goal is to find the next talent – but they are overworked so they aim to reject – to weed out. The writer’s aim is therefore not to give the agent a chance to reject you.

Provide – a synopsis (3-4 pages maximum), 3 chapters or less, 1 short page covering letter. Luigi’s agency receives approximately 5000 submissions a year (100 a week). – of these they will look at 60 (5 a month).

What happens when a submission is received?

The parcel is opened. If there is anything more than a simple rubber band for binding it is rejected.

The cover letter is read. If there are any spelling mistakes or it is badly presented it is rejected.

The first paragraph of the first page of the text (not the synopsis) is read – then the second paragraph – if it looks interesting it is put aside, otherwise it is rejected.

In half an hour he will process 40 submissions and put aside possibly 4, of those he will read pages 2 and 3 – and probably reject – resulting in perhaps 1 a week.

He will then read that submission (the first three chapters – or less).

If he likes it he will ask to read the rest of the book.

There will be no feedback or suggestions re-revision – though if he is really interested he may send it to a reading agency for a critique.

The language, style, rhythm, sound – is very influential. So it is important to listen to other people reading it (reading aloud to yourself is valuable, but hearing other people read shows better how it will be received).

Then plot, storyline and characters.

‘Me too publishing’

There is a tendency for (especially big) publishers to follow a successful trend. He gave the example of Atlantis by David Gibbins. This was initially rejected by many publishers, so was sold to a small publisher. It became a best-seller, and the big publishers went back to the agent to ask for some the same (not similar but exactly the same!). Then they went back through the slush pile to find something – and did.

Agencies
The Agents Association has a list of accredited agents – and it is best to look for agents on the list (marked in the Writer’s Handbook).

If you are lucky enough to have different agents interested, look at how you feel you could work with that agent, the types of book they have sold, their market share etc.

The agents work really starts when they take you on – then they or an editor may work with you, though the publishers too will often want a further level of editorial input.

The relationship is essentially with the agent – not the agency. If the writer work on different types of book it is acceptable to use a different agent – though often in consultation with the initial agent.

The going rate is 15%, though there are moves to try and increase this. Advances are very variable – and there has been a suggestion that the agent’s commission should be on a sliding scale linked to the advance.

The Writers Yearbook , and the Writer and Artists Yearbook have lists of agents – but to find who represents a specific writer look initially in the acknowledgements page of the book or contact the publisher (or Google the writer).

Small versus large agencies

Small agencies are more responsive, more accessible, and you get to know the team – and they may promote you harder.

With larger agencies you may have less contact, more competition but possibly larger advances.
However in most cases you will go with the one who will take you on.

Are Agents proactive in looking for new talent?

The masterclass wasn’t a proactive exercise to find new writers. He stressed that people should not think that agents are charities or see promoting new writing as their role. They simply don’t have the time for that. They operate a business.

Remember however that the selection is very much a matter of personal taste – so it is important to send out to as many agents as you can. Don’t worry if agents have rejected you in the past – they will not remember your name.

- My thanks to Roger for his notes

Masterclass - Catherine O'Flynn

Her first novel, ‘What Was lost’, was long-listed for the 2007 Man Booker Prize (it’s also just won the Costa First Novel Prize)

Catherine told us about her previous jobs (which included a brief stint as a postwoman, which is something the press have picked up on for some unknown reason), the most important of which was in a branch of HMV in a shopping centre (Merry Hill) in the West Midlands. While working there, she became interested in the contrast between the shops during the day and during the night, for both customers and staff.

Each night when she got home from work, she would scribble down notes and thoughts about her experiences – this I think was some time in 2003. These notes helped her to structure her story and write up a full synopsis. She then moved to Barcelona for some time with her partner, and being fortunate enough not to have to work she was able to spend a lot of her time honing her story and beginning to write the novel.

Having already written a thorough synopsis and extensive notes about different characters and outcomes, the actual writing part came fairly easy to her. She cockily announced that the writing part of it would be relatively simple, and went for it.

She prioritised what she thought were the easiest and most fun parts before tackling the trickier bits, a method she found to be very helpful since by the time she’d reached those trickier bits, she’d already built up enough writing experience to feel confident enough to tackle them.

The book became stalled with her agent as they’d suggested changes she didn’t want to make. This was resolved by a friend’s recommendation that she change a key relationship between characters in the story, and also slow down what had, up to then, been a very sudden and rushed ending. This she found to be very helpful, and everyone was happy.

Her partner had also been very helpful with her writing, being a patient listener to each day’s writing every evening (helped by the fact that they didn’t have a TV, so had to find other ways to entertain themselves!) Though he seemed to invest a lot of emotional energy in the book himself, disagreeing with certain recommendations friends and publishers had made. He also told her at one point that he thought her idea so good, if she didn’t write it, he would.

She eventually went with the publishers Tindal Street as they struck her as independent and a company who really look after their writers. Unlike some larger publishers, they push their writers and books much harder for industry prizes and awards and expend a lot of energy to promote them creatively.

In her novel, ‘What Was lost’, Catherine found that she preferred writing from the POV of a 10-year-old female character – Kate – she found it the easiest to write of all the voices, most of whom were adults.

Jeff, NAW student, said that he enjoyed the disembodied voices that occasionally dropped in and out of the narrative; though this was something Catherine herself liked a lot, the agent and publishers didn’t, but nevertheless decided to keep them in.

As far as the sources for her inspiration and abilities are concerned, she simply reads a lot – this she thinks is the best font of her talent. Otherwise she only did one actual writing course, some sort of Open Arts college (?) which was a distance learning institution. Her university degree was in Anthropology, and her first job in journalism, perhaps her only other job which had anything to do with writing.

- My thanks to Mike for the write up.

Completion - Fiction & Reading into Writing Modules

Happy New Year to one and all. I'm still a bit dizzy from the festivities (though I was the nominated driver and drank nothing). We attended a formal dinner at a lovely French restaurant - Frere Jacques - along the river in Kingston upon Thames, only to discover it had gone a little down market for celebration time. Initially we moved the tat, party hats, poppers, streamers, cheap wind-up cars, bowl filled with tiny coloured balls and two multi-coloured blowpipes - yes, blowpipes! We felt certain that no one would take up this rather mental idea of wearing hats and parping at each other. We were all civilised adults (excepts for the kids, and even they'd dressed up).

So it was, by 10pm December 31st, we realised we'd been sat in the worst of all places. Two factions had been established between the right and left sides of the restaurant, and we were smack bang in the middle, taking flack from both sides. The coloured balls were tightly wound spitballs, meant for use in the blowpipes! We needed cover and we needed vengeance for being pelted on the heads.

When those dining outside felt the need to come to the doorway and join in, I ducked under the table and began retaliatory fire (you can fire up to four spitballs and once from those things, you know). I quickly discovered that from my mostly-safe vantage point on the floor, a pillar at my back and a line of tables and chairs to protect my front I took advantage of rebound shots - being able to judge the right point at which to fire a volley and ricochet it off the ceiling.

Similarly amusing then was to fire on the waiters and waitresses who had served up the most exquisite Breast of Pheasant with grilled Portobello Mushroom, Red Onion compote honey-roasted Parsnips and Rosemary Jus, and a divine Rack of Lamb: Roti Dijonnaise,Gratin Dauophinois & sautéed Salsifi with Red Wine Jus (naturally I had to finish Laura's meal off), and who were still stuck with taking orders for drinks and having to dart back and forth across the battlefield.

My knees were scuffed up something rotten and I've never spent so much time scrabbling around on a restaurant floor fighting an 8 year-old child for control of spitballs!

Anyhoo, on with the writing:

I have just packaged and posted my two module assignments and am now looking ahead to the Professional Development module (still much to do, and much to be done while away in New Zealand - side note: you can catch up with our antics over at http://discovernewzealand.blogspot.com where I will be blogging about our travels).

So, in the meantime, you can catch up on what I've been doing for the past four months over on my website's NAW page, or you may wish to peruse the module's pdfs:

Reading into Writing
You can now read the full short story of Morgan le Fay (that I have been badgering on about for weeks).

• Morgan le Fay and the Green Knight - Creative Response.pdf
  - A 3,000 word creative response to the Sir Gawain and the Green Knight text - the machinations of Morgana.
  
• Sir Gawain and the Green Knight - Account of Literary Qualities.pdf
  - Assessing the literary qualities of the Sir Gawain text and how I've interpreted and utilised them in my response.
  
• Reading into Writing - 4 Reviews.pdf
  - Four reviews. Three of the four books we read on the course and one as chosen by myself.

Fiction
And included here is what was originally the opening to an urban-fantasy novel, and has now become a short literary story.

• Pride and Pretence.pdf
  - A 6,000 word short story on love, licentiousness and loss in the 1950s.
  
• Pride and Pretence - Commentary.pdf
  - A commentary on my short story, considering its conception, creation, placement, weaknesses and themes.
  

Libel and the Aspiring Novelist

One of my fellow NAW students asked an established editor a couple of questions on libel t'other day, and I thought it would be nice to share the answers with the wider world.

It may well apply to some of us writers who may be thinking of writing fiction or some other form of writing that is based on ‘real life’. Its impossible to ignore these issues these days; and as they say, ignorance is no defense in the eyes of the law.

Q) What are the legal and contractual implications of writing a novel based on the experiences of an actual living person?

A) There is no doubt at all that were the book to be written and taken on for sale by an Agent/Publisher, that there would be immediate questions and concerns about legal issues. Trying to pre-empt when the book is not written is practically impossible because the devil is always in the detail - a phrase here, an implication there. My advice would be that (you) should certainly read Geoffrey Robertson’s book, Media Law but that you should also think long and hard about writing about a real person at all. It will be hard enough to find a publisher as an 'unknown' without adding to the problems with inevitable legal costs. I doubt any publisher would take it on even if you provided all sorts of indemnities, without consulting their own legal adviser. If you really feel you must write this book - you should get on with it - and then take legal advice. A lawyer can't properly advise without a Ms. If the book is really, really good , an Agent and then Publisher will be prepared to take a punt and get a libel reading. I can't think any disclaimer or agreement with (the subject) can anyway be valid without a finished text. But, it has to be your decision. If you feel strongly as a Writer that you must write this book and it is important to your development, then you should write it. Publishing and 'broadcasting' the content is a different matter. Novelists as well as biographers do get sued and I could quote chapter and verse. Any legal complication is very unwelcome and gets more expensive all the time!

Q) Suppose I were to take the subject of the story, the psychological 'tics' of the characters, the nature of their conflicts and the arc of events and so on, and transpose everything to different settings, etc, so that the form of the story (in a platonic sense) remained but the details were original to my imagination? Would that give me sufficient distance from the 'true' events to allow me to avoid issues of libel?

A) It is impossible to answer your question simply; I'm afraid. The trouble with libel is that cases are brought because people consider they have been libelled. It is THEIR perception which often counts. It is a little bit like bullying in the workplace. What is bullying for one person is simply banter for another. Disclaimers at the beginning of a novel 'the characters in this book are products of my imagination..' etc etc do not count in the courts. And never underestimate the requirement of some people to have their day in court even if they have been offered an out of court settlement. What you suggest would of course lower the risk of any action; but, there would still be a risk. On the face of it this seems very storm in teacup. The reality is a lot of time spent on a marginally profitable book and a very different attitude taken to the next novel . And certainly no royalty payouts!.. So, to sum up: of course you must write the book you want to write. Getting it published is a different issue.

Thanks to Nick for asking the questions and the Editor for allowing me to post the responses here.

Masterclass - The Necessities of an Agent, with Ben Mason

Shiel Land Associates are a literary agency based in London, England, boasting a number of big name writers and celebrities:

Including Peter Ackroyd, Melvyn Bragg, Stephanie Calman, Steven Carroll, David Cohen, Anna del Conte, Elizabeth Corley, Seamus Deane, Erik Durschmied, Alan Garner, Robert Green, Bonnie Greer, Susan Hill, Richard Holmes, HRH The Prince of Wales, Mark Irving, Simon Kernick, Richard Mabey, Steve Rider, Martin Riley, Tom Sharpe, Martin Stephen, Jeffrey Tayler, Andrew Taylor, Alan Titchmarsh, Rose Tremain, Phil Vickery, John Wilsher, Paul Wilson, Chris Woodhead and the Estates of Catherine Cookson, Patrick O'Brian and Jean Rhys.

Before you ask... their website doesn't work - not very forward thinking in this day and age I know, but we can't assume reasons for this. Many agents still haven't got a proper web presence.

Ben Mason, one of their agents, who came to speak at NAW this week, has 45 clients that he looks after personally. Having started from a psychology background Mason is primarily interested in finding unpublished newcomers . Most agents, he says, are 40+ years-old, have high levels of workload and their client lists are full, and though all will say (as publishers do) that they aren't looking for new clients, none of them can be so picky as to not entertain a submission pile.

Getting new authors off the ground, he says, required far more effort than an established author. The breakout novel, the new book, it needs a hard push and cannot rely on any of the tactics in place for those established in the trade - not in word of mouth, prime shelf positions, marketing, tv or radio time.

The Agent's Primary Role

Mason's main aim today is to prove why an agent is more important to a writer than a publisher (a publisher, of course, is essential but there is a time and a place... do pay attention).

Authors are their own best editors. They know the work, should know their own style and are best place for critiquing their own work. There are always holes and in particular, as Mason pointed out to us, our work on the NAW course isn't intended for the marketplace yet and we aren't pitching to that level. The agent will help prepare the full submission package, assisting on editorial input.

Agents know publishers. They understand the breakdown of these companies; who works where and for whom. The book... your book, the agent knows, will be broken down by five separate units within a publishing house, each of them considering whether or not the book is worth publishing. It is essential, therefore, to be able to boil everything down to single or double sentences. If you can't pitch your work concisely then you're not necessarily going to appeal to anyone and the entire submission will fall through the floor.

After the big submission to the publisher, the agent will guide you through the process of publication and the contract (which has become more and more difficult what with audio books, eBooks, and all the foreign rights). The agent hopes to carve up the rights allowing them to be managed separately between the UK and Commonwealth (inc: Australia and Canada), the US, and Foriegn Rights (translations - selling rights in Germany, for example, can generate as much as those sold in the UK).

The author is given an advance, which is payable in segments; money on signature, on final publication, on release and on the separate rights. This can be released over as much as 4 years. It therefore helps to generate buzz, and requires a great deal of understanding and knowledge on the agent's behalf.

The author's work is edited by the agent, working with the author for a time before even attempting contact with a publisher, so as to ensure the best possible iteration of the book. Once accepted, the book is edited by the in-house editor (which can possibly be a tricky process as publisher's are buying the author's book and have a lot more authority). Editors are creative people, says Mason, and not business people. Working relationships between writers and editors can be great but have to be a match in order to work. If the editor's demands for the work doesn't meet the author's then the agent may need to support and massage the author. Just remember that publishers are gamblers. They take a gamble on every new author and new book they release.

Jacketing

The book jacket is very important and it isn't the case that the author gets to choose. gave examples of some authors wanting their child's artwork on their cover... but it's not possible. Authors headed for publication are in a business environment, despite their creative roots, and though covers may be a bone of contention, the author has (again) sold the book to the publisher. Waterstones and Tesco now have the power to tell a publisher that they don't like the cover of a book and the publishers do go back and redesign and reprint.

Harry Bowling released a book in which, on the first page, the child of the protagonist is killed off. The publishers made the brilliant decision to depict a child in a parent's arms on the jacket! Go figure.

Marketing

Publishers, says Mason, don't generate big expenses for marketing, adverts, the web or book clubs - these are all useful and available, but for the first time author much of the onus for this is put back to the author. Author's are advised to create their own web presence and get them selves about (it's worth a look at Robert Ronsson's Masterclass on Self Publishing for some brilliant and pertinent advice in this respect). There are book signings, festivals, and Mason places much emphasis on authors building relationships with other authors (there is nothing like networking).

The Selling

It is important to get on with the marketing as soon as possible. Waterstones in particular have a short shelf life for those books not selling well - and a book that doesn't sell well in hardback isn't going to get accepted for sale as a paperback. And despite the trade bodies growing into the web market place (Amazon in particular) the high street is still the main location for book purchases.

The process of selling begins with the surveying of certain (key) buyers in the book trade, to find out what they think of the "product". Testing the buyers' reactions is essential. The publishers are trying to appeal and please. If, for example, Waterstones buys 3000 copies for a new writer, this is considered good.

The Slush Pile

Shiel Land receives roughly 300 unsolicited manuscripts a week. The majority of them are decided upon in their first lines or on the weakness of the covering letter. Mason has received bribes, chocolate, pictures and more. Even our own Peter Cox has received a manuscript in a glass case (it turned up smashed).

In your covering letter you should attempt to communicate your own identity (whether or not that is similar to other authors). Show your place in the market (you have to do your research here, both in terms of where your book goes on the shelves but also which agent, particularly within an agency, is the right fit for your genre). Avoid CVs, an agent's interest lies in the writing, so get straight to it asap. A 1 page synopsis is preferable and it doesn't have to give the ending - this of course is all at the whim of the agency, and you must do your research and submit what is requested.

Literary or Genre

The industry doesn't, Mason says, talk about literary and genre delineations, however literary books are far more difficult to publish. The problem with them is that they can inspire or be really awful. The signal from the trade buyers may be to commercialise the cover.

Literary writers, says Mason, must be brilliantly inventive. Don't get blinded by panic half way through and beam the characters to the moon (more wildly wacky ideas have passed his eyes). These works must contain their creativity.

And, for every definitive way in doing things there are others. The independent publishers were set up as a way of railing against the conglomerates (an Orion for every Random House), and are more prepared to try Literary works. Mason gave us an example of one book that he'd loved that had sat in his bottom drawer for five years - no one wanted it. On the off chance, two weeks ago, a guy he knew had left a publishing house to set up his own, and Mason submitted the piece to him only to discover the guy loved it. Sold!

Agents can accept on the basis of a single page, or on three. A submission can be made, accepted and then the agent receives 1 chapter every month from the author, edits it and waits for the next. MG Harris was accepted by Peter Cox based on her writing, her initial maniscript was scrapped and she had to write a new one.

Publishers, unlike agents, want a completed manuscript. As Mason puts it, agents represent people, but publishers publish books.

Sales

2000 copies sold in hardback is considered a respectable first sell for a new author. The review of a book in trade magazines and papers used to be on hardbacks only, but this is changing. Note: it is not respectable for an established author to sell only 2000 copies.

20,000+ sales in paperback is thought of as respectable for a first time author, but books have a small window (shelf life). If they aren't selling, they will be pulled. And, as with the hardbacks, this number is only respectable for the first time author.

Remember that submitting to an agent gives you support. An agent can often work for an author for free for up to two years (working on spec) with no idea that the book will sell to anyone. That is invested trust you don't get from a publisher.

Contract

A final note, contracts and authors are protectected by the Association of Authors Agents. And quite often these contracts can include a 6 weeks termination aspect. Either side may, at any time, end the agreement with 6 weeks notice.

Morgan le Fay and the Green Knight

I have received favourable feedback from my tutor regarding my creative response to the romantic text of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight:

I do think this has worked out exactly along the lines you described to me. While the first paragraph, perhaps in taking off, read to me like the story was geering up to pour in all the fantasy clichés (flaxen hair, eddies of the stream, thundering torrent, rugged slope, tinkling bells), it then strikes out on its own and becomes quite irresistible. Really enjoyed it and found the take on the romance imaginative, enthusiastically realized, and coherent in terms of both the ‘logic’ of the narrative and the consistency of your writing style. You are convincing me of the approach you’re taking.

I guess then, it is time to revisit the textual elements I have used but not yet covered...

You will remember from my blogs posts in November, Part 1 and Part 2, how I broke down my decision making regarding descriptions, choice of subject matter and the use (or perception of use) of magic. You also know that I chose to base my creative response on Morgan le Fay - arch nemesis of Camelot - and opted, as I discuss in my analysis document of the piece (a requirement of the course), to consider my subject matter thusly:

The romance of Gawain exists as a quest, but through my response I am subverting the genre. Bertilack is a Lord and therefore superior to other men, but as Morgana proves, he isn’t superior to his environment. Therefore my response falls in the mode of high mimetic. Northrop Frye states that “romance divides into two main forms: a secular form dealing with chivalry and knight-errantry, and a religious form devoted to legends of saints.[1]” I see the Gawain romance as treading both paths. Its focus is on knight-errantry but at its heart is a call of faith. While my response covers similar ground, much of the conflict regards the faith argument and I use it not only to highlight Morgana’s standpoint and the theme of the piece, but to create symmetry between the original text and my response, and between Gawain and Bertilack [2].

---

[1] Northrop Frye, Anatomy of Criticism p33-4 ISBN 0-691-01298-9

[2] “…he recited his Paternoster and Ave Maria and Creed with a promise to thenceforth serve none other than God.” – Richard Howse, Morgan le Fay and the Green Knight

Opening

The original opening isn't much different from the one I have written. Though, thanks to the workshop session, several things had to change. And here is where the workshops are essential in spotting those elements that will trip up the reader (as Solvejg once found with Tethered Light and our assumptions of Binky). First and foremost were the characters - the girl and the Green Knight. One wasn't properly depicted as a child and later when I talked about her being an infant, my readers struggled with the concept change (how old is she?). Next was the headlessness of the Green Knight: if he's headless, why isn't this put to the front of his description (it would be the first thing the girl notices)? And to stop the reader worrying... where is the head?

She waitied; the child, sitting naked but for the green girdle at her waist and the shroud of flaxen hair covering her shoulders and chest. High up in the linden tree she dangled her legs playfully amongst the heart-shaped leaves, as if she were dabbling her feet in the eddies of the stream that frothed and foamed far below the boughs. Over that thundering torrent, which twisted down the rugged slope, she heard the tinkling of bells from beyond the glade. A visitor, they intoned through the jutting crags and black jagged outcroppings that led into the valley. That was long before she saw him at the knarled rocks. Long before he’d guided the horse down the ravine.

He arrived headless; the Green Knight, built the size of a half-giant. Despite the mutilation he carried himself with both poise and grace, swaying with the rhythm of the horse’s lollop. He brushed a coat of snow from his charger’s green mane with the looped reins and nudged his golden spurs into its flanks.

The girl watched, fascinated, and the knight shook white clumps from his green shoulders and the bloody stump of his decapitation, which spat flecks of crimson upon his tunic and mantle as he rode.

But where was his head?

She fingered the leaves apart to better see him from bleeding-shank to unshod feet – every inch of him glorious, every stitch, green – and she grinned when she spied his flowing tresses. The knight was carrying his head beneath one arm, as a soldier might carry a stock of weapons, his piercing stare surveying the burial mound that rose up beyond the tree.

Knowing your Audience

In a submission, the opening is everything. Now the reader is intrigued by both the naked girl and the headless knight. For those who know the Gawain text, it will be just the girl, but then, they will understand the meaning of the green girdle. I was distinctly aware as I wrote the piece that it plays to two separate audiences in different ways, and I had to make sure that as the piece played out, those who don't know the Gawain text required as much backstory to the situation as possible - enough for them to let go of any concerns that there is a headless knight wandering around and, of course, a naked (and rather fearless) girl:

‘Was I not right,’ she said, ‘when I told you the game couldn’t be refused? That Camelot cannot resist a challenge to its valour? Come, for there is a tale to tell and I am an ear to hear it.’

‘Well, my lady,’ he said when he’d calmed his consternation, his throat belching and spitting, ‘I arrived at Camelot during the festivities of their Christmas feast, and there, as you instructed, I called them to action, setting down both the game of exchanging blows and the rules by which the players would abide. King Arthur was to strike at me, and I, so saying at your request, stated that he was to seek out the Green Chapel in one year and one day’s time, where he would receive a stroke in return.’

Point of View

This has been a large stumbling block for me up until this year. Not only would I sweep back and forth between the points of view of different characters, but I would switch povs mid-paragraph (sometimes mid-sentence), and then there were the times where I would accidentally change the subject of a sentence or paragraph, leaving the reader desperately confused about who meant what to whose which and why?

Confused?

With this piece, I believe I have solved these errors and specifically chosen to use multiple points of view to relate as much of both sides of the argument as I can - third person omniscient. In a short stories, point of view changes are not recommended because the reader needs to identify with a character quickly and empathise with them - otherwise in the majority of cases the writer is wasting their time because there are no hooks for the reader's interest to hang on. With my use of third person omniscent I am specifically choosing who the reader learns from and witnesses the scene, not as a means of identification, but so as to best understand at any given time, the important aspects of the story and what it means to each of the characters.

We start off with the girl, watching the Green Knight's arrival. We stay with her in a semi-distanced state, never once entering her head, but regarding what she does , what she observes and the questions she is wondering about. Then, towards the last half of page 2, we switch into the Green Knight's pov:

He hesitated. His horse drew back towards the river’s roar and both regarded the girl as if seeing her for the first time. She was barely tall enough to reach up to the horse’s flank, too fragile to bring harm to any but the tiniest of rodents, and yet surprise and suspicion furrowed the knight’s brow. This was no mere child.

And we stay with the Green Knight, because it is always more interesting for the reader to be on the back foot. The Green Knight doesn't fully understand the situation and by identifying with him the reader can be a part of his investigation and anxiety about what is unfolding. Along with him we observe the child:

The girl listened with her head cocked to one side and she made a steeple of her hands as if she might venture into prayer, but instead she let her fingers play and fidget... and the girl balled up her fists and shook from head to foot... The girl swore under her breath and stamped her feet and the golden carpet scrunched and crinkled; a thousand yellow leaves perishing to black... The girl halted, her hands at her sides, not balled but playfully stroking thumbs across fingers as if she were enjoying the texture of an oily substance. She spoke then with a malevolence that he’d have felt even in full armour for it pricked at his hackles.

Whereas we have the knight's concerns, questions and feelings:

The Green Knight turned his eyes down to the leaves and bowed his headless torso to hide his shock at her bloodlust. Morgan le Fay had said nothing of her intentions when they’d made their compact. She’d spoken only of the game... He had survived Gawain’s beheading blow, just as le Fay had said he would; snakes could do him no harm, though her wrath may yet... The knight watched, in awe that the girl’s desire yielded fruit from a fruitless tree... He saw no sign in that angelic face that she was deceiving him and yet he pondered her words about his faith and his God. Where had either been when he’d needed them in his quarrel against the Bastard Lords? Where had either been when those lords had intended to usurp his lands?

The Green Knight is our protagonist, we need to identify with him most of all (whether or not it will end well).

I will be posting my entry for the module over on my website as soon as it is ready for submission.

Sharing Reviews on Sea Room

As with the other week's shared review session of Sarah Water's The Night Watch, this week, in our last book group session for the NAW (National Academy of Writing) Reading into Writing module, we brought in our reviews of the last text - Adam Nicolson's Sea Room. We all kept in mind the points covered by our tutors (check the link above for hints on writing a balanced and fair review), and here is mine:

Nicolson’s love for the Shiant Islands is clear from the outset of Sea Room’s narrative. He is as keen and determined to relate the kingdom of the islands and his experiences as it appears he was to have his own boat built so as to sail there alone. So passionate is he about this very personal world that the book is brimming with deeply engaging anecdotes and colourful descriptions, stretching back through time to give the reader as much of a panoramic view as they might get stood at the head of the na h-Eileanan Mora.

Visceral images are plucked from the features of the land and the inhabitants as if, at times, Nicolson were writing a literary novel intent on unearthing the great mystery of the Shiants. But he’s not, and here the reader needs to be on guard. Sea Room is ostensibly a meshing of travel and history-cum-biography. The poetry of his writing manages time and again to fish ever more words from the briny depths to describe the land, the sea and all that is in between, while never once giving the reader a sense of repetition. The profundity with which historical, ornithological and archaeological facts are investigated and excavated are both staggering and exhausting.

Sea Room is at its best when related to Nicolson’s life, his observations, and his endeavours to reach and live on the islands. The building of Freyja, the dangers of the Sound of Shiant and the Blue Men, and the arrival at the Shiants themselves are all standout moments, expertly interspersed among discussions of ownership and introductions to bird migrations. Alas these are all to be found in the first half of the book. What were originally Sea Room’s strengths get caught in a riptide that thrusts the reader out among the swelling information so that the book and the islands begin to feel ever more cramped. At the half-way mark Sea Room drowns readers (who only have a casual interest) in heavily-excavated archaeological evidence and endless discussions on the presence, or lack thereof, of seabirds.

Nicolson revives reader interest towards the last third of the book, again picking up his warming writing once more. However, one gets the sense that the book’s intent lies as much in wanting to disperse Nicolson’s detractors – who would have him removed as owner and the land given over to the RSPB – as it does in presenting a grand understanding of island life.

It's a very differnt review from my last one, opting rather than using the author's own words against himself (as I did with Sarah Waters) but covering more of the subject matter. I made a clear attempt to use metaphors that relate to the text to give a singular feel to the whole thing and in this case my view is more balanced than the last (I suppose it helps that I liked it more).

Figurative Language

This from one of the NAW tutor (had to steal and post here because it's possibly just what I've been looking for):

First, a proviso... it is easy to get carried away with the magic of language and 'write over our heads'. The first business of writing is to be clear about meaning. Meaning, sense and clarity is our primary activity. Tom Bailey, in his excellent book 'On Writing Short Stories' (in the library), puts it like this:

Symbol

Metaphor

Subtext

Voice, Tone, Mood

Meaning, Sense, Clarity

This is a pyramid and you must deal with the bottom layers first.

i.e. unless you get the meaning, sense and clarity down, then the 'higher' stuff has no foundation and the reader will fall into a hole of incomprehension (and therefore boredom). Bailey talks about the 'loose reader' who is able to make the most fantastic cathedrals in the air out of the smallest slips of the author.

Having said that, metaphor and figurative language (simile, symbol) is the writer's muscle, making writing work double time. Similes use 'like' or 'as' eg. 'she looked bloated, like a body long submerged in motionless water.' The comparison should enlarge our understanding - don't just add one because the rhythm of the sentence demands it.

A metaphor echoes a larger truth. It is the thing being compared to, rather than being like it. Fabulous example is Updike's picture of the Colosseum as a ruined wedding cake. The best metaphors are born naturally out of the story, do the hard work of capturing character first and then go back and examine what's there, what images and symbols you can add too and refine. I wrote a story once called 'Green' because the girls in it are naive, but it expanded to include all aspect of green-ness (jealousy, money, the green sea, they had an avocado bathroom...) Think about 'families' of symbols or metaphors - shapes (a snake, a curly hair).

A symbol is a object or sign which carries its own weight of meaning, like the blue-eyed doll in this story by Robert Boswell.

http://www.pshares.org/issues/article.cfm?prmArticleID=1959

Another example is Raymond Carver's Gazebo (the title of the story and also a symbol for marriage). Watch out reading Carver, there's never a bird sitting on a telephone wire without a reason!

Masterclass - Putting the Science into Fiction with Ann Lingard

Ann Lingard's former life was as a doctor of science. And while she has become an author (her latest book, Floating Stones, was released in 2003 on eBook) she hasn't set aside her scientific life as something separate and to be forgotten. She incorporates all her experience into what she writes, often going on to learn more so as to infuse her writing. On her website, she says:

‘As a scientist myself, I feel that scientists often get a ‘bad press’ in novels - only rarely are they portrayed as likeable or even fairly ordinary people. I hope I’ve managed to change that perception in the fiction that I’ve written - ‘scientists’ (a very generalised term!) are interesting, dreary, infuriating, warm-hearted; they fall in love, they have families, worry about mortgages and blocked drains, have hobbies or watch too much TV … they’re human!

And that played a big part in her masterclass, an informative presentation on the real world in which science exists and the website she set up to get writers and scientists talking.

www.scitalk.org.uk

SciTalk is a project to help scientists and fiction-writers - playwrights, poets and novelists - to meet, and talk, one-to-one and face-to-face.

Scientists need to show writers — poets, playwrights, novelists – the wealth of possibilities that are opened up to fiction by using science and scientists in their work. Just as a novel with an accountant as a main character need not be about accountancy, a novel with a scientist need not be about science. Scientists need writers to show that they are 'normal people' from all backgrounds, with normal concerns.

Ann told us three stories, all of them relating to the need for facts and realism when trying to bring science into your work.

In 1854, Philip Henry Gosse, the renowned marine biologist, was travelling to Ilfracombe by paddlesteamer from Bristol. He and his wife were moving there to a town house his wife had picked out with the help of God(!) It was dark by the time they pulled up at the quay at Ilfracombe and with the paddles flaying, the wheels churning, the night suddenly lit up. A green glow, unnatural and shocking, eminated from the waters around them. Gosse ran for home and collected a glass jar from their apartment. He returned to collect some of the strange coloured water and took the sample home. Still and by lamp light the water was again translucent. The green had faded. But, he took it into a dark room and struck it, and as if by magic, the lights returned, tiny green halos flowering before his eyes.

In the water were tiny jellyfish plankton that react to the darkness and, it seems, to being churned or struck. Aequorea, they have become known, have a green fluroescent protein that has revolutionised modern genetics. By extracting the gene from the jellyfish, scientists have been able to insert it into the dna of lab mice, attach it to another gene that they are testing and check to see if it is switched on. Other tests have included, attaching the gene to the development of nerve cells in zebra fish to see their development.

We've moved on a great deal since the Victorain age - taking big strides away from it in fact, what hasn't changed since then are the opportunities. There are lots of places in scientific environments where one can build relationships between characters. Science can take the front or back seat in any number of situations an author wishes to employ to keep the narrative going. It doesn't have to all take place in a white lab. It doesn't have to be stilted.

As authors we can take into account culture and the style of the scientific discipline. Science can exist in the form of field work (a life split between different places), or otherwise constantly on the move. Also, scientists can be any age, and even those that have retired don't necessarily give up their passions.

Lingard's speech really centres on the notion that many writers adding scientific elements to their prose do so in a generic manner, moving away from the narrative to deliver their evidence or make the big reveal. She proceeded to show us some photos of different environments: a cell biologist in a sterile, orderly molecular biolab, filled with jars, painted white, with all the white-coat trimmings. There also we saw a palaentologist in an office of cluttered desks, stacked with papers. The only equipment we could see was a microscope. Geologists, we saw, who'd left academia, can travel the world, sub-cotnracting to oil and gas companies. Out in the middle of nowhere with a pipeline and a digger. They go to international conferences, they go home, they travel.

Remember, says Lingard, that scientists are first and foremost people. There are group leaders in the teams, researchers, technicians, phd students. They have lives and it's not all science. They are ordinary and not to be mistaken for the cliche of Dr Frankenstein or Igor. They could be existing on soft money (a three year contract) and be concerned about their dependents and where their next pay cheque is coming from.

Here, from the Armstrong and Miller Show is a very different example:

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=gqZaLCB9KtI&feature=related

A friend says of the piece:

Apart from the white coats, shirts and ties (none of which most bioscientists bother with unless they really have to, most don't own a tie)...and calling each other 'Doctor' and 'Professor' (its all first names, whoever you are)...but the screaming, threats, pressure and hysterics and not far from what I've seen with some lab leaders...

Lingard suggests the following points:

• Science doesn't have to be difficult (don't bog the reader down with information). Distill it and use elements not didactics. Subtlety.
• A story with an accountant doesn't have to be about accountancy.
• Readers like to "get to grips with modern science". Any writer covering a science subject is going to generate reviews interested as much in that science as in the prose.
• Science use can be topical and can give you the edge. Look at the possibility of the next big thing - global warming, new fuel sources, genetic cloning
• Use SciTalk. Currently there are 150 scientists covering a broad spectrum of disciplines, vetted specifically by Lingard and they can not only provide you with pertinent explanations of how things work, but advise on where the wall between reality and fiction can be fudged.
  

Masterclass - Self Publishing (Olympic Mind Games) by Robert Ronsson

Robert Ronsson started writing his latest (and first) release in response to a competition for Saga magazine in December 2005 - I was planning on entering it too, but apparantly I wasn't old enough - the brief was to write for children (proving that it doesn't matter how old you are, you can still relate).

He didn't win, but that was only a minor stumbling block. He submitted the completed work to a self-publishing company called Pen Press. They have this to say:

Self-financed publication is no longer regarded as the final option to get into print but as a viable and sometimes preferable alternative, and we have authors on our lists who have actually turned away from potential deals with mainstream publishers in favour of publishing themselves using the bona fide and quality services we can provide.

And though Ronsson had to stump up his own cash for the project, this is no vanity publishing business. Pen Press, Ronsson says, has a quality hurdle. It doens't just print every author that darkens its door. And, they don't just leave it up to the author to manage the deliverables. Pen Press provides a basic editing service to ensure the manuscript is free of general errors (they won't go into any prose stripping or discussions on plotting/pacing/narrative). They print and assist in distribution and provide marketing support, though, again, it is up to the author to pay marketing costs.

Ronsson says that if you are looking into self publishing and, like him, you are more interested in generating official sales, rather than a quick buck, then check that the self-publishing house does provide distribution. If your book can get onto the Gardners lists then you can practically get your book sourced and sold to anywhere in the UK - the next step is to convince the shops to buy it. And that requires marketing. Ronsson says that with Pen Press, as long as you are active and doing something Pen Press will reciprocate, and assist where they can.

So, first off, their plan for world domination required an Elevator Speech.

Elevator Speech

The Elevator Speech is a blurb of the book. Something succinct, fluid and easily given to brief alterations so as not to sound stilted but delivered simply off the tongue. You have it on a card and you leave it by the phone, just in the off chance that the media phone up asking questions. You can immediately run off the elevator speech without stumbling.

His book, Olympic Mind Games, has the following elevator speech:

It’s 2012. The world is in terrible danger and Jack Donovan, 13, is the only person who knows.

He has to hide out in London’s Olympic Village if he’s going to emerge from the shadow of his super-achieving twin sister and defeat the forces committed to the world’s destruction.

Marketing / Charity

The next step was to secure ways of getting the book out there, and since the book places itself at the Olympic village, uses the subject of sport and is generally very active, Ronsson and Pen Press looked to a sports charity. The idea was to give £1 from every book sale to the charity and in return the charity would assist in promotion. Ronsson says that the key is finding something topical, mainstream and positive to link your work with. How can it benefit people?

Brickwall

That was before the charity questioned the use of the Olympic within the title. So it was that the Olympic commitee were questioned on the matter and a furore was unleashed in which at first they wanted to put the kybosh on the whole thing, arguing that Olympic is registered to them!

As it stands, a simple search on Amazon proves that 4,305 books have been published with Olympic in the title, 103 DVDs, 34 Video Games and 179 Music items. It appears that the Olympic team had been a little lax in enforcing their brand.

Anyhoo, the BBC ran a news item on the story, here. Ronsson had a choice. Here was a chance to really put his work out there on the edge. He'd created controversy. How could he use it? But hey could sue him. His decision wasn't an easy one, but based upon the following decision, he and Pen Press went ahead with the title:

• We have right on our side
• Print with the title we wanted
• Be prepared to pulp the first print run
• Try to get public opinion on our side

Courting the Media

By coincidence alone, Ronsson had previously met a BBC journalist on a train to a football match. They had got chatting and now as the publication of his book was starting to teeter into an abyss, he called in a favour - and they might be able to get him on the air to talk about it. This became his first mistake. When the media did call Ronsson was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They wanted him to come to them... that day. But he'd already made other plans and had to turn them down. Unfortunately that meant his story was already old news. They might be able to fit him in the next day, but then, newer stories would probably crop up and he'd no longer be relevant.

Ronsson thought fast, and by a fluke of guess work, contacted BBC journalist John Humphreys who hosts the Radio 4 Today programme:

Did you know that the word 'Olympic' has been copyrighted? If you wanted to call your next book My Olympic Struggle for Political Honesty you wouldn't be allowed to until the year 2013 when the London Organising Committee for the Olympic Games (LOCOG) loses its protection.

Ronsson had planned carefully, ensuring that his e-mail said exactly what it should, and it was enough. Humphrys came back to him:

fascinating ... worth following up... I'll alert my editor
JH

They went to interview, with Humphrys first warning Ronsson that the worst that could happen was that the Olympics sue him - what the hell?!

15 Minutes of Fame

• BBC Radio Hereford & Worcester (3 Minutes)
• BBC Radio 4 Today (5 Minutes)
• BBC TV Midlands Today (5 Minutes)
• BBC Radio Hereford & Worcester (2 Minutes)

The story was picked up by Guardian, Telegraph, Bookseller, Writers’ News, and by the end of it, even the New York Times had run a brief story:

WORD GAMES London 2012, the organizers of London’s coming Olympic Games, had a problem with Robert Ronsson’s science-fiction novel for children, “Donovan Twins: Olympic Mind Games.” They sent the author e-mail warning him not to use Olympic in his title, saying it was a breach of trademark rights (bbc.co.uk).

Undaunted, the publisher Pen Press printed 300 copies of the book, which has to do with aliens, not sports. The organizers relented somewhat. Given the small press run, a spokesman told BBC News, it would be “disproportionate to take a heavy-handed approach.” But he said London 2012 still found the title “disappointing” and that it hoped to reach an “amicable solution.”

Mr. Ronsson said he found the group’s actions to be “extraordinarily strange.”

The world is a small place after all. And all this free promotion has meant three print runs. At the height of it all his book had reached the top 500 on Amazon's book sales.

The Grind

With the limelight switched off, Ronsson still had work to do. Self-marketing requires a lot of on-the-road action. You've got to court your local outless, he says, and I've discovered that's at least a 50 mile radius - bookshops / newspapers / radio stations. In fact, he says, local press love to hear about a local author. Independent bookseller too, giving them the opportunity to host events. You can't be a shrinking violet.

The three main booksellers he tried were WH Smith, Waterstones and Borders, and of the three, for a self published author, the only one worth attempting is Waterstones. This is, he says, because Waterstones allows managers to pick some of the books they stock. The other two don't and whilst Waterstones even provides a budget for its managers to read a little wider (so as to deliver the best options to its customers), the other two are blinkered to the possibility.

In this money-dominated business (aren't they all - sigh) there is little place for the small author trying to break out. Just the other day there was an article about the lack of dangerous publishers - if you look at the best seller lists it would seem we've entered a time warp and gone back at least 20 years (same old authors in the fiction lists). And that pile of books you meet as you enter Waterstones... the publishers have paid a grand amount to get those stacked there. They don't just appear in the 3 for 2 by serendipity you know.

Know your demograph

Ronsson has it slighlty easier than most. He's pitching to the biggest market, where the bucks are made. But it's still not an easy ride. He's had to put himself around quite a bit:

• Literacy Hours in Primary School
• Guide Scout Meeting
• 6th Form Creative Writing Workshop
• ‘Chatterbooks’
• School Christmas Fair

He's working his audience, getting himself in there with them. The key is not to stop.

Why all the work?

Specifically in Ronsson's case, he's attempting to generate as many physical sales as possible. They are recorded by Gardners, which means that he can take that data to a mainstream publisher and negotiate for them to take him on. It's all business.

He can argue now, after a big sale in Bewdley, that he was the best selling author in North Worcestershire. Also, after a Reverend from Cornwall read the book, he purchased 8 copies for his family, making Ronsson the best selling author in the far-west. It all adds up.

What's next

He has a plan, and it's geared towards cashing in on the foundations he's already built. But it would be unfair of me to speak of those here.

Sharing Reviews on The Night Watch

On Wednesday in our last Reading into Writing seminar, we shared our initial reviews about Sarah Waters's The Night Watch, as an exercise to show that there are an infinite number of ways to review something, and to give us immediate feedback on what we have done, so as to advise on avoiding certain pitfalls. Especially in our case, where we only had 400 words in which to construct our reviews, word-use is essential and meaning is everything.

And, as the eight of us proved, there are so many ways in which to write a review, from the reviewer who discusses how the book affected them, to the reviewer interested in the timeliness of the work; reviewing the contents and the meaning; reviewing the structure and conceit, reviewing a personal response; a review shaped by the characterisation. Of course there's always the hatchet job. These can all be used in a much longer evaluation, but we didn't have that luxury.

My review of Sarah Waters's The Night Watch
- this version unedited (after in class comments)

“… people in the 1940s had become heartily sick of bomb stories…”[1] says Sarah Waters of her lesbians in the blitz showcase The Night Watch, touching upon the very problem that 1) she came up against in her writing, and 2) ultimately dispirits the reader.

Award-winning author of Tipping the Velvet and Affinity, Waters has cultivated a niche for intelligent, homosexually-charged fiction and escaped what might be considered a limiting genre: period lesbianism. This makes The Night Watch all the more conspicuous in its failure to capture the romping nature of her previous work. Not because she is mining the same sexual framework but because she has backed herself into a corner with her approach.

“It was the period which followed the war which really interested me, that bleak, shabby, exhausted time of social change and moral readjustment.”[1] says Waters; a feeling that, on the page, translates too well. The reader feels the ebb of hopelessness – let it not be said that Waters cannot elicit emotion with her fiction – in the plodding pace and tone, but ultimately feels detached. The characters are lost in every sense – physically, psychologically, spiritually – tripping over a morose reverie that makes the reader pray for the 1950s. It is interesting, therefore, when Waters realises that the story is going nowhere and starts part two three years earlier.

This is where the story falls apart. The book, constructed and published in reverse order, does, through Waters’s skill alone, execute nice revelations and reader epiphanies. But these aren’t enough to carry the book. Its nature, lacking any tension outside of the microcosm of any one scene, drags the reader to the final page and leaves them grasping at where the plot went with a bitter and unsatisfying taste of hindsight.

Not least is the hindsight more obvious than with the character of Kay, who, through the blurb, website descriptions, and the book’s opening, is presented as the main protagonist in this ensemble cast. It is her actions around which much of the plot revolves and she who the reader suffers the most sympathy for when all is said and done. But, for the majority of the first third she is little more than a phantom, and is forgotten about.

“Fundamentally a novel about disappointment and loss and betrayal.”[2] says Waters, who perfectly conveys the motivations and decisions of her characters, but who should have, rather than rehash the direction of the book when she herself lost interest, started from scratch

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[1] http://www.sarahwaters.com/ints.htm - Guardian Article, Sarah Waters – January 2006

[2] http://www.afterellen.com/Print/2006/4/waters.html - AfterEllen.com, Malinda Lo – April 6, 2006.

I think, if any of them were hatchet jobs, mine came closest. But at least the class like that mine was an immanent critique and I was praised by the tutors for taking the interesting slant of using Sarah Waters's own quotes and using them against her.

Points of note

Our tutors had the following to say on not only reviews themselves, but on the transcripts of our discussions on the books we had covered previously:

The sheer variety of responses on Moodle has been an eye-opener that has made me re-evaluate the books, and I hope some of that can be captured in your reviews. Antithetical. Expanding ideas, but achieving some kind of unity as a piece of writing. There’s a drive to unify a response, when actually the dispersed remarks on Moodle are more interesting – the melding of the two is the difficulty. All too often a review can be a conduit for the self-importance of the reviewer. The challenge is to say what we really think without being pompous. There is no one way, no template. There is a sense of a horizon of expectation, but should one give in to it?

Of the reviewer or the book the book should be the most important.

Arrogance comes often from insecurity. We can resist it without failing to be an ‘authority’. It’s a difficult trick to pull off, but we have to try. The US tradition of deconstruction – find a fissure, an impasse, and look at how a text unravels, and the position of the critic too is undermined – and yet, at the same time deconstructionists reach neat conclusions! One needs to find a humility to be true but authoritative.

What to avoid in a review

• Ensure the writing doesn't drive the reviewer's thought - don't get caught up in flowery prose, or your own literary flow; avoid pure value judgements and puffery.
  
• Don't make wild references - the reader needs to feel intelligent, and they won't if they don't understand metaphors / allusions / comparisons. Always ask if the reader will understand. This also strikes to avoiding distracting the reader from imagining the book itself.
• The review requires at least one encapsulating paragraph to make the reviewers standpoint clear.
• Try to stay focused, don't start ponderously, and don't go off on a tangent to fulfill some personal need / interest.
• A good review will give a sense of the novel without giving away important moments or the ending.
• Word use is important. A growing list, such as "Rounded" and "Nice" are more commonly thought of as cliché. The TLS publish lists of words and phrases that are out of fashion.
• Second to Word clichés, is Journalistic clichés.
  
• Avoid the hatchet job, there is always a middle ground, where negative attitudes can be express without disrespect.
• Some reviewers carry themselves as much a part of the review and are read specifically for their voice - regardless of what they are reviewing and yet not at the expense of the work - and if you can turn a nice phrase and develop a distinctive voice then reviewing might be ideal.