It has been a great year
so far for The Parisot Writing Group.
Amanda Hodgkinson came back to do a weekend workshop with us in
April. In May, Jacqueline Yallop, did a
workshop with the group on sub-plots.
This week Tracey Warr did a workshop on creating probable worlds by
using maps, places and objects. One
member of the group commented that she still has so much to learn. I think as a writer you never stop learning and it is this journey of discovery and being part of a coterie of
kindred spirits that, for me, makes the writing process fun.
Welcome to my blog. I love writing and want to share some of my efforts with you here.
Wednesday, 10 June 2015
Monday, 25 May 2015
Flash 500
I entered two short stories into the Flash 500 competition and was delighted to have one of them shortlisted. Congratulations to the winners whose stories can be read on this link. My story, Au Revoir, was an amended version of
a longer story that was shortlisted a while back in the Global short Story
competition. It was inspired by an
exercise I did with the Parisot Writing Group using the prompt of a funeral. I am particularly enjoying writing flash
fiction at the moment and the result has encouraged me to enter more
competitions.
Tuesday, 21 April 2015
Writing Workshop
This weekend, Amanda Hodgkinson
came to do another workshop with the Parisot Writing Group. It was a fantastic weekend and I’m now busy
trying to put into practice what I learnt.
There was a lot of discussion on
the importance of character and we did several exercises where we really got
under the skin of our main characters.
Following the critiquing session at last year’s workshop, I felt this year we were able to critique
each other’s work with more honesty and clarity. Amanda
is such a good listener and we think this has made us better listeners
too. We hope she will come back next year!
As usual, lots of eating and
drinking was done and I’m still working my way through the chocolate!
Amanda is one of the tutors at Writing At The Castle in July.
| An impromptu photo call on Saturday night |
Monday, 26 January 2015
Be Prepared!
Saturday saw me up early and on
my way to London to attend the Writers & Artists’ "How to Hook an Agent" Workshop. Having completed my novel, The
Gift, I felt that I needed some guidance on the submission process before sending
it out to agents. The workshop was made up of sessions on
knowing when your novel is ready, what should be included in a submission
package, how to pitch your novel and what appeals to agents in a
submission. The first session was lead by Ed Wilson (Johnson and Alcock) and Juliet Mushens (UK Literary Division
of The Agency Group). The next session
was lead by Juliet Pickering (Blake Friedmann Literary Agency) and Hellie Ogden
(Janklow & Nesbit). All the agents
were professional, encouraging and unintimidating.
The session ended with a ten minute one to
one meeting with one of the agents where we were given the opportunity to pitch
our novel. I was nervous about my ten
minute session, but I had done some research and chosen the agent whom I felt was
right for my novel. I needn’t have
worried, as I was made to feel instantly at ease. I linked up with some other interesting
writers too. I learnt another valuable lesson - most of the other attendees seemed to have business cards so I must get some
printed - much more professional than scribbling my contact details on a scrappy piece of
paper!
Monday, 19 January 2015
Walking and Writing
How does it happen? I can be walking along when suddenly I have
the answer to a short story or chapter that I have been struggling with. I’m not evening thinking about it, but in the
story creeps. It is at times like these
that I wish I had a notebook and pen with me, but I never do! Instead I have to hold on to the idea and
keep playing it in my head until I’m back home.
This is what happened to me yesterday.
I was concentrating on the muddy path, being careful not to slip over
and wham I had the solution to a problem with a short story I’m
working on.
There has been research linking the
advantages of walking to creativity. Here
is a link to an article that appeared in The New Yorker on why walking helps us think. It certainly works for
me!
Monday, 15 December 2014
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!
Monday, 3 November 2014
The Importance of Research
Well that’s my excuse for taking
an impromptu trip to the Costa Brava at the weekend. We stayed, as we normally do, at Hotel Rosa in the
town of Begur. We did our usual costal
walk (see previous posts on my Nine Toed Nomad Blog). But this time, in addition to walking, I
wanted to use the visit for some research.
In my novel in progress, The Gift, I have two scenes set in the cemetery
in Begur. In my mind I had imagined a
tiny cemetery perched on top of a hill overlooking the ancient town with the Mediterranean
sparkling in the distance. In reality,
the cemetery is located by a mini roundabout on a busy road. It is enclosed by tall whitewashed
walls. A group of four Cypress trees
provide some green relief amongst the white and grey crypts. The crypts, mostly family ones, are
functional in design. Some are adorned
with photos in oval frames. Some are festooned
with plastic flowers. Walking along the
narrow paths, surrounded by the crypts, I felt slightly claustrophobic. In a small clearing, I sat on a stone bench
and pondered where the final resting place would be for one of my
characters. Then I found it. A much better spot and far less clichéd than
the one conjured up by my imagination.
Now it’s back to the editing!
| A great bench for contemplation |
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