What has writing taught me?

My first children's novel, EREN - a dark middle grade story about a boy who meets a monster who eats stories - is being read by editors in the UK and the U.S. right now, submitted by my agent.

My second children's book, which is about two boys who mess with dreams and old gods, is now, officially, finished. Well, the first draft is. Much more to come on that one (including the title; a quick brainstorm with some Twitter-friends the other day has whittled it down to either THE NOUN THAT VERB, or THE NOUN OF NOUN AND NOUN, but I don't know if my agent will go for that...)

If you ever wondered what it takes to write more than one book...

Two books. I'm proud of that. It's taken a few years. I must have learned something, right?

Well, yes. Except that I haven't written two books. I've written five and two halves, over more than ten years. These last two are just the only ones good enough to make it.

There was the first book I ever wrote - which has since been destroyed, save one copy - which suffered so many problems I'm amazed the agents I sent it to even replied. But they did. And you know what? They said nice things. Encouraging, helpful things. I guess I was a pretty cute 13 year old wannabe.

There were a couple more after that - one that I think does have promise, and one that I think will probably never come to much. I submitted both of those to agents, too. I was an optimistic child, if nothing else.

The two halves are more interesting. One failed. One is just on ice, but with many plans for the future.

My point? That no writer just writes a book and stops. Practice makes ... well, not perfect. But better. Yes. Practice makes better.

What else? First drafts are exactly that. Those naive, if incredibly cute, first attempts to find people in the industry who liked my stuff were just premature. Books need work, and a hell of a lot of editing.

I've also learned about professionalism and encouragement. Great Zeus, but publishing is a fantastic industry. Creative, inspiring, and filled with people who care so, so much about what they do. That encouraging letter to my 13 year old self really did keep me on the path to where I am now. I still have it, too. Maybe one day I'll meet the agent who wrote it. She's still around.

Great Zeus

The time I've been writing - over a decade, which sounds a lot more grown up - has taught me something, too. Publishing changes, but good stories don't. Neither do kids. Not really. Kindles? E-books? Self publishing? New Adult? What does all that really mean to the readers? At the end of the day - and I know some will disagree - I rather imagine it doesn't mean a lot to the kids out there who just want to open a book, jump in, and dream. Don't spend time fretting about changes and the impact it might have on your career before you actually have readers. And don't try to write for what you think the market will be, if that's the only reason you're doing it. Believe in your books, writer! You have to be the first one who does. God knows no one else will, to begin with.

Rubbish Zeus

So. What else have two (or five and two halves)books taught me? That 'said' really is the best dialogue tag in roughly 98% of cases. That adverbs can be used well, but lots of people still hate on them. That 50,000, or 40,000, or 30,000 words sounds like such an easy thing to do, right up until you find yourself in the early hours of a Sunday morning, bottle in hand, drinking to forget, cursing the world and yourself.

That community matters more than probably anything else when you're an aspiring writer.

That people care about you doing well, and want to help you get there.

That writing isn't an easy life, but for some, it's the only life there is.

Am I sounding trite? Well, how about this, then: I've learned about agency contracts and publishing agreements, royalty cheques and advance payments. I know what the AAR is and how to query in two different countries. I can use the world 'slushpile' without batting an eyelid and can format a ms., correct margins and font size and spacing and all, like it's no one's business. Synopsis? Easy. Name five top editors and agents they've done business with in the last year? Piece of cake. I joined the SCBWI, too. I made this blog, and my Twitter account.

My point? I've worked at things beyond the writing itself. It's that professionalism thing again. Writing is my passion. Of course it is. But if I want people to pay me for it, I recognise the need to play by at least some of the rules.

And lastly - what has writing taught me?

That I really don't know very much. I have so much more to learn. From other writers, from my frankly astounding agent and her colleagues, from editors, from strangers, from family and friends, from books, and from readers. It's a learning curve, isn't it? Getting better and smarter and more savvy. But hey - know what? I wouldn't give it up. Not for a second. Not for anything.

Onward, comrades.

SPC

Wednesday's Inspiring Books

Morning, one and all.

Christmas in New York is a pretty awesome time - the decorations come out, markets open up, and shops go out of their way to outdo one another. Last night I, my wife and a friend dropped in to Union Square Holiday Market, filed with the usual tempting but slightly too-expensive-to-buy art, treats and gifts.

And also, famous landmarks

On top of this, I'll be in England in 23 days, and Wales for New Year. So much to be done.

Today's Inspiring Book is one I have been back to time and time again, dipping in when I remember lines, double checking, wanting to show others. 

It's also not really meant to be a book. 

It is, instead, the collected letters of J. R. R. Tolkien: 

It might seem strange that this is on my list of inspiring books. After all, I admitted on this blog that I haven't read Lord of the Rings. That might seem especially odd when you realise my family, and my wife, are all huge Tolkien fans. Huge.

I read Tolkien's letters out of mild interest. I studied Old English at university, and a bit even before then. That Tolkien was a scholar before be was an author made him far more interesting to me, and his philological work and knowledge of world  mythology remains just as interesting as his published fiction. The Monsters and the Critics, his academic essays on Beowulf and other matters, changed Anglo-Saxon scholarship forever.

The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien are fascinating. They start when he was a single, unknown undergraduate at Oxford, and end right before his death. This man was extraordinary, but seeing his ordinary life - his struggles, worries, thoughts on local characters (including C. S. Lewis, of course), on Oxford, and on LOTR as he wrote it, got it published, and then experienced its huge popularity - is something special. It's satisfying to know how it all turns out, as well. When Tolkien writes about his new project, and you realise what it is, you can't help but smile.

His letters to his children, often serving abroad in the war, are also touching and filled with a very keen Christian insight. His letters to his first readers, explaining points of plot or linguistic confusion are also immensely satisfying - Tolkien's grasp of the world he created probably remains the bar against which all other fantasies will be compared. 

A good, great man

So, inspiring stuff indeed. If my writing, and my mind, are half as good as Tolkien's, for even half of my life, I'll have it made. In the age of e-mail, it's less and less likely we'll be able to read writers' correspondence in this way. We can, though, at least look back at this man, and appreciate even more of who he was.

Go on, be inspired for a bit.

SPC

THE DRAFT IS DONE, and other news.

Good morning to you all.

A busy few days here, with the four day weekend from Thanksgiving through to Sunday meaning a lot more time sitting around, eating with friends. Thankfully, it did also mean more time writing. So much so, in fact, that I was able to share in an impromptu Twitter celebration on Saturday after announcing I had finished the first draft of the next book.

Kindle avec New Book

No title, still. It's proving a tricky one, but I'm sure we'll get there in the end. For now I'm calling it The Story of Peter in lieu of anything more concrete.

With this draft finished, next comes the cooling off period. I'll keep busy for a couple of weeks, on other projects and Christmas prep., and then come back to it with fresher eyes. There's work to be done; plot to be tightened, dialogue to be tidied up, loopholes to be closed. Even typos and spelling errors, and inconsistencies in naming, can be ignored if you're too familiar with the text. So, for a while, I'll let it steep.

I'm really pleased with it, I have to say. Think it'll be a strange book, and the ending isn't necessarily happy, even if it is a bit more resolved that EREN. This book has been many months in the making and many years in the planning. Funnily, I remember the exact moment the seed of the idea came to me. I was in Osaka, Japan, in Universal Studios with my sister. Perhaps it was the music, or the crowds, or nothing from there at all, but I had an image, and one line of dialogue. That was - what? - three years ago? Well, here's the book. I'm speedy, me.

It's the most magical place in the ... no, wait ... 

In other news, today I send off the contract to Indigo Ink Press for THE STORYTELLER'S JIG. I am most excited. More news as it comes. Also been enjoying the latest SCBWI magazine, and, of course, decorating for Christmas. And so the world turns...

SPC.

Wednesday's Inspiring Books - CLOCKWORK

Happy Wednesday, one and all.

So, what's going on here? The WIP grows every more, and is now well over the 26,000 word hump and heading into the home straight. You can read a post I made here to see why 26,00 is almost 40,000, really. Almost.

The mug I'm sending on as part of the SipSwap blog celebration arrived yesterday. I won't tell you what it is in case its intended recipient is reading this, but I promise you, it's a goodun. Kinda want to keep it for myself. Hm.

Also started batting around a few ideas on a new project - something different to my previous and current stuff, which is exciting, challenging, and scary all at once. That probably makes it a good thing. Also signed up for December's AW Blog Chain - The End of the World! Which will be great.

But enough of me. It's Wednesday morning And that means one thing.

Wednesday's Inspiring Books returns.

Today, Philip Pullman's CLOCKWORK, OR ALL WOUND UP.

Philip Pullman is a marvelous writers, one of the pioneers of children's writing living today. His HIS DARK MATERIALS series, no matter what you think of the theology, is remarkable - broad and profound in a way few children's books are. His mastery of language and craft are beautiful to watch and when this combines with the sheer effort he puts into his books, you get Good Things.

CLOCKWORK is an odd little book. Odd because it's so simple, in many ways, so focused on a few simple tales and the art of storytelling itself. Little because - well, because it is. It's a short story, really. Maybe a children's novella?

I first read this book when I was in France. I'd taken a few books with me on a family holiday, should I need some entertainment beyond the Gallic landscape. I left it untouched for a while. I'm not even sure why I'd bought it. Finally, one day - perhaps it was raining - I sat down and jumped in. And wow. The ending of this book - which I won't spoil, but I will say is technically astonishing and very satisfying - shocked me. Writers could do that? They could have all the streams of a story just come together like that? I'd never seen it coming. I wanted to do that.

The title comes from one of the main stories - a broken clock, and a clockwork figure made for the position. It also comes from Pullman's understanding of good story telling - that you wind up all the factors, all the characters and plots and scenes, and then they go, and they keep going, and eventually it's not you who's driving the story. It's a good understanding of the best stories. In the end, it's not always the writers who decides what the end is. 

I'm not going to say much more. You should read this book if you want to know what I'm talking about. Go on. Read it. You won't be sorry. Time's running out, y'know.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick ...

NYC Waterfront Recovery and Staten Island

A piece I wrote for work - found here - which I thought would be good to share around, still. I was back on Staten Island this Saturday. Inspiring, grim, and surprising, all at once.

CITYWIDE WATERFRONT RECOVERY - STATEN ISLAND STILL MATTERS

Photo by T L Miles

Like many this past weekend, I left the comfort of my own home – with its restored power and heat, and my thankfully untouched belongings – and traveled to Staten Island, to begin the slow, dirty job of cleaning up after Superstorm Sandy. The work to be done there is unpleasant and at times depressing. The people, however, are warm, welcoming and endlessly inspiring. It’s not often that Americans living on the affluent East Coast – especially near New York City – find themselves faced with the destruction of their lifetime possessions. This, though, is the reality for thousands in the wake of the “storm of the century.”


More than two weeks after Superstorm Sandy brought devastation to much of the East Coast, the recovery is well underway – but the final cost and impact of the storm is only just becoming clear. The latest figures related to loss of property, revenue, life, and government cleanup, suggest a figure between $83 and $87 billion. The final cost, in the years to come, may well surpass $100 billion. How does the local and state economy recover from such a hit? And what is the future of the affected waterfront areas?


ECONOMIC AND PHYSICAL RECOVERY – INTERLINKED BUT SEPARATE ISSUES

The cost of the September 11th World Trade Center Attacks ($83 billion, according to The Partnership for New York City) and how the city has recovered from that tragedy offer some insight into the resolve of New Yorkers and the NYC economy’s ability to recover. Though the effects of the storm will be felt in the city over the coming months and years, stability and financial recovery are guaranteed. However, the issue of physical recovery  is more complicated. The site of the Freedom Tower was flooded by Sandy making it worth noting that even more than a decade after the Twin Towers fell, rebuilding has not yet finished. Cleanup and rebuilding take time.

New York City’s waterfront has only two viable options: abandonment, or a sustained, long-term commitment to rebuilding, fortifying, and investing. Of these, only the latter is truly a possibility.

That NYC’s 520 miles of waterfront are some of the most attractive development sites in an already crowded city and have attracted attention of developers and investors adds an extra urgency and tragedy to its current state. After this disaster, will the waterfront still become a place where people want to work, live, and invest?

The full scale of the damage to much of the New York City shore is yet to become apparent. Beyond the obvious physical destruction – the houses, cars, businesses and lives – already covered by the media, the ongoing recovery efforts are facing increasingly insurmountable difficulties. Delicate electrical systems in basements and subway stations are easily damaged by salt water – we now can see how probable such a situation is as the water from Superstorm Sandy so successfully flooded such large areas of the city. The contamination from sewage, chemical-tainted waters, and mold, along with the overwhelming amount of debris still to be cleared, has rendered many areas uninhabitable, and the damage to essential infrastructure is yet to be fully understood.

The economic toll of Sandy is complicated to define. The loss of power to downtown Manhattan forced many businesses to close, relocate, or simply improvise for days. For certain areas of flooded downtown, the wait may extend to weeks. At the same time, New York City has recovered before, and the nature of the startup and entrepreneur industries – defined by their flexibility and energy – means that for many, working from home will do little to damage output. The influx of donations and government aid, and the simple fact that in a city of such limited space, rebuilding is a necessity, will no doubt result in an invigorated waterfront, complete – one hopes – with an infrastructure and flood defenses capable of withstanding any repeat of Superstorm Sandy.


STATEN ISLAND – STILL HERE, STILL MATTERING

Still, it may be too soon to look to the future and hope. The day to day reality for thousands is one of grim work and uncertain prospects. Staten Island, especially, has been hit hard by the storm, and the understandable habit of economists to focus on Manhattan must give way to pragmatism and a city-wide focus on recovery. Staten Island has sometimes been called "the forgotten borough" he recent controversy over the ING New York Marathon divided SI from Manhattan like never before, and Mayor Bloomberg’s final decision may well have prevented full scale riots in the borough.


For the last two weekends I have visited Staten Island alongside thousands of other volunteers to work with those who have lost their homes and begin the cleanup operation. It is not hyperbole to say that many have lost everything. Houses still standing may nevertheless be destroyed, the contents lost to the flood waters, and the buildings condemned by the Department of Buildings. It is not only basements that were underwater. In Oakwood and New Dorp Beach, blocks of houses have been left uninhabitable and full of the broken and still sodden belongings of the families who once lived there. The real needs of those on Staten Island have not been fixed by returning power to Manhattan. Investment in waterfront development for business and investor use must go hand in hand with a firm commitment to restore normalcy to these communities. Staten Island is New York City, and the genuine anger felt by some there towards the marathon, and the perceived resource drain, is understandable once you’ve witnessed and comprehended just how much they have lost. Far from a “them and us” mentality being allowed to develop, however, the city must unite, focus on its citizens, and then look to the future.

Crain’s New York Business on Tuesday suggested that plans for the waterfront’s future must include traffic congestion control, telecom protection, and a willingness to move certain essential features out of nature’s way. Superstorm Sandy has, perhaps, given NYC one gift: an awareness of the dangers of its current situation, and a focus, driven by real grief and renewed vigor, on what needs to be done to ensure Staten Island, and the entire city, is saved from similar future calamity.

For now, though, every day, every weekend, and every evening, we will see volunteers – often from out of state, sometimes from out of country – slowly but surely help put back together the lives that the storm tore apart.