The Writing Scene in France

In the August edition of Living France there is an informative article by Vanessa Couchman about the thriving expat writing scene in France.  The piece features the Parisot Writing Group with photos! 

The Parisot Writing Group (PWG)

The PWG met last week for the last session of the year.  In the morning group we did an exercise on point of view and setting.  The point of the exercise was to see a building through the eyes of a character and to demonstrate that what is ugly to one person in one frame of mind can be beautiful to another.  It was also a useful exercise in writing from the point of view of the opposite sex.  As usual, we each read out what we had written.  There were some powerful pieces of writing.  I chose a pier as my building (see my effort below).  I found the exercise inspiring and I intend to develop the piece further.   

The pier had always been there.  It looked fragile, the gun metal grey of the waves lapping at the rusty framework, threatening to wash the whole structure away.  The colour of the sea matched his mood.  He walked slowly head bowed, his feet making a hollow sound on the wooden boards.   He looked up as he approached the arcade.  There were no sounds of laughter coming from the abandoned building, long since closed, slot-machines and penny falls going out of fashion.  The windows were boarded up and paint was peeling from the walls.  There were specks of white in wet patches where the plaster was crumbling away.  Briefly he wondered if here were plans to renovate it and, if so, what it would become.  Then he realised he didn’t care.  Everything was reduced to dust in the end.  He took shelter in the doorway, the smell of urine and decay strong in his nostrils.  He took out the letter from the officer, although he knew the contents off by heart.  A sudden gust of wind caught the paper, whipping it out of his hand. He watched transfixed as it was carried on the wind and then tossed into the waves.

The pier had always been there.  It beckoned to her now a solid line stretching out into the surging sea.  It held the promise of fun times.  She had often come here as a little girl running on the boards loving the sound of her feet clip clapping on the wooden floor.  She remembered the long lazy days of school holidays spent paddling in the sea below.  There was an arcade at the end, its white façade looking like a giant wedding cake.  It had once housed slot machines and penny falls, then for a while it had been a nightclub.  The windows were now boarded up and she wondered what it would become next, perhaps a café or one of those old fashioned ice cream parlours the interior painted in candy floss pink.  She plunged her hands deep into her coat pockets and continued walking.  The wind was exhilarating a sudden gust caught her hair, flinging it wildly around her face and laughing she brushed it aside.  She could taste the salt from the spray on her tongue.  She moved her hands and rested them protectively against her stomach and smiled.

In the afternoon group we did an exercise on endings by taking a beginning and then writing the ending trying not to worry about the middle.  Again, there were some great pieces of writing, which I hope will be developed into complete short stories over the winter as I’m looking forward to reading them!

The Parisot Writing Group (PWG)

The PWG met for its first session of the season on Monday when we looked at the importance of theme in writing.  At Amanda Hodgkinson’s writing workshop earlier in the year, she had said to the group how important “theme” was.  Over the summer I asked the group to write a 300 word piece on one of the themes listed below:- 

Regret

Desire

Escape

Guilt

Money

On Monday we read out what we had written.  It was obvious from everyone's writing what the theme was, although in most cases, the theme itself wasn’t mentioned.  I found it a liberating exercise and chose to write a piece of life writing, which I don’t normally do.  One member commented that in thinking about theme she was able to write without worrying about a structure of beginning, middle and end – the writing just flowed naturally.

Here is my piece:-

REGRET

My mobile phone shakes into life.  As I take the call I feel numb with disbelief.  She was meant to be coming home tomorrow.  Do I get in the car and drive or will I be too late?  As I listen to the prognosis I twist the ring I always wear on my middle finger, a thin band with a group of three small diamonds, her engagement ring.  She had given it to me ten years ago.  I had refused, but she had insisted, her hand enclosing the ring in mine.  Try it on she had urged.  It had fitted my middle finger perfectly.  She had been ill then too, but she had pulled through.  I had offered to give the ring back, but she had wanted me to keep it, to treasure it like she had done.  It is precious to me and I wear it always.  I feel I’ve let her down.  I should be there as the life seeps out of her, but I know I’m too late.   

We finished off the session with a look at titles where we listed the unique selling point of our book/work in progress and the genre and then asked everyone in the group to come up with an appropriate title.  This was harder than I envisaged!

This weekend it is the Parisot Literary Festival and we’re looking forward to hearing fellow member Vanessa Couchman read extracts from her book The House at Zaronza.  The Parisot Literary Festival was a popular event last year and this year there is another great line-up of authors.    

Writing Workshop

At the weekend I was privileged to host a writing workshop headed up by Amanda Hodgkinson, the award winning author of international bestseller, 22 Britannia Road and the critically acclaimed novel, Spilt Milk.  There were nine of us for the weekend, all members of the Parisot Writing Group – a supportive and lovely bunch of people.  We all agreed the weekend was a great success, but it was over far too quickly.   Now it is back to some hard graft on my novel, The Gift.  The feedback I received from Amanda and the group means I’m looking forward to working on it again and I have a clearer idea of what I’m trying to achieve.  I know I echo the sentiments of the whole group when I say that Amanda was an inspiration.