A Milestone for Tilda 3 - and Car Park Capers

You've heard of A Tale of Two Cities? This is A Blog in Two Halves...

This morning, I finished the first handwritten edit of Tilda 3.

What does that mean, I hear you ask? It means that Tilda 3 has moved from the first s****y draft in a notebook, past the first s****y draft on computer, and is now a paper copy full of multicoloured scribbles. It's still as far from a proper, finished novel as you can get, but my read through has helped me to see where the novel needs expanding, and how the mahoosive climax can be written so it's all Tilda's fault...

It also means that, when I head off to Weobley next week, to spend four days at a Writing Retreat run by two wonderful ex-cloudie friends - Jayne and Moira - I am in a position to either start typing up all the edits to Tilda 3 OR crack on with the first s****y draft on computer of Tilda 4. This fourth adventure for Tilda is going to start in a dark place... and involves Issrayan dragons.

Nuff said.

And the Car Park Capers?

Yesterday, Mr Squidge and I went to Leicester. We don't go often - we're not into big name shopping and we can get most of what we need in the town centre at home, but I had to pick up the new Paschal candle and palm crosses for church from the cathedral shop, and he wanted to visit Nada, a zero waste store. I also had to begin the process of applying for my e-Visa for India (I'm off to Trichy again, mid-April, in case I hadn't already mentioned it), so we planned to drop by Belgrave Gate and a particular travel agent's on the way home.

Anyhow, we checked where we could plug Sparky in to charge while we mooched, and headed off to the car park.

Now, finding the recharging points in any car park is a bit of an art. They are normally on the ground floor, well signposted and have green parking bays. We drove around all three - extensive - floors in the Highcross Rooftop Car Park and couldn't see a single one. Now, we didn't really need to charge - we'd have got home again quite comfortably - but we thought we'd do it anyway, as keeping the battery topped up is better than letting it run low.

We ended up pressing the 'Help' button. "I'll get my colleague to talk to you," the nice lady on the other end of the intercom said. Five minutes later, with no more contact from the disembodied voice, we were about to park up and not bother charging. Then said colleague appeared in person - and directed us from the sunny rooftop, back down onto the first level, to 'the dark new bit.' That didn't sound particularly attractive, as dark bits in car parks aren't very safe, but off we went.

We drove round the roof twice, trying to find the way out (signposting really isn't this car park's strong point - the exit was a very narrow ramp, hidden behind a wall with a teeny tiny sign) and followed the instructions back to the first level. Even there, we couldn't find 'the dark bit'. Then - Alleluia! - a green charge point sign. And another, pointing the way to - yup, The Dark Bit.

Now, the reason for the darkness became apparent as we drove towards the charge pod points. The lights were on motion sensors. So this newer part of the car park was being environmental with reduced lighting for most of the time because - let's face it - all it would've been doing otherwise was shining on empty, stationary vehicles.

We plugged in, and it took a while to download the app to enable charging - different suppliers have different apps you need to sign up to, which results in lots of faff when you start using a new supplier anywhere. I spent the time admiring the artwork... They were very keen to get the environmental message over, weren't they?

After all that, can you believe we didn't get much of a charge? It took so long to download the app, the charge point didn't let us draw any more power because it didn't think we were signed up to it.

But at least we know where we can go in future. And we both got the shopping we needed, had a lovely lunch in The Globe pub, and a mooch around the city centre in the sunshine. On balance, a good day.

How to market your books - and yourself, as a writer

I've been forced recently to question whether I do enough to market my own books; I've had some really disappointing sales figures.

It got me thinking, and I was challenged to take a look at what I already do, marketing-wise, to see whether I can improve things. So...

Blogging.

I blog, and not as often as I used to, I'll admit.

There are two reasons for that. The first is that over the last twelve, possibly eighteen months, I've been in a bit of a funk. Life has felt like a huge effort - my world seems to have shrunk and I've been pretty down at times. I believe I am peri-menopausal (sorry fellas, if you're reading!) which has affected my mood, confidence, concentration, and motivation. Quite frankly on occasions I've just wanted to shut the world out and curl up in a ball until I feel better. Another reason is that the Squidgelings are both at uni now, and I have found it extremely hard to adapt to them not being at home, as well as coping with issues they have had while they're away. Maybe I should've pushed myself to still share my life and writing, but I simply couldn't.

At least the blog's still here, and it's still the first place people come to, to find out about me and what I write. I like writing posts - and I hope you enjoy reading them, even if there haven't been as many of late.

Website.

I do have one. But set up after the Scribbles 'because authors need a website', I never really saw the need for it after establishing a blog - and it's horribly out of date. I used a freebie website thing to set it up, but the problem was that I didn't find it easy to use or make changes to. I was also using it so infrequently, I'd forget how to do things or the templates would have been updated and I didn't have a clue. I've said before I'm a bit of a numpty when it comes to IT - I'd rather not do it than make a mess.

I did look at getting one set up for me, but the cost was prohibitive, especially if I wanted to transfer all my Scribbles over to a new domain/host/whatever it's called. I will work on it in the future, but even with some lovely advice available from BInk, it's literally all double-dutch to me.

Facebook.

I'm on it. As myself, not as 'Author', and I'll admit to being very careful here about posting marketing information. Mainly cos facebook take offence if you sell on an undesignated page, but also because facebook for me is about more than selling. It's friendship and keeping in touch, and I don't want to jeopardise friendships by seeming to ram my books down people's throats. Of course I share when I've got a new book out or a cover reveal, but I don't do it to gain sales - I do it to share my excitement.

In all of my social media, I'm genuinely me, and that's something that seems to be really valuable when...

Selling the books.

The vast majority of sales for my novels are direct sales - it's relationships that sell books in my experience. People will buy once they've met me, but if they see my books as being written by an unknown author, they don't tend to take a punt without some knowledge under their belt or a recommendation. That's where catchy blurb/eyecatching cover becomes important too.

In the vast ocean of books on Amazon, my novels are mere amoeba and have to fight extra hard for attention. Especially when it's probably not children - my target market - doing the searching for suitable reading materials, but their parents and grandparents. Ditto on a bookstore shelf; most bookstores have children's titles limited to the big names or popular formula series that children love to read.

My novels have proven to have crossover appeal (instead of middle-grade, they need an 'anyone over 9 years' tag!) but labelling them as children's books can put adults off buying them for themselves.

And the price...I've said it before and I'll say it again - selling children's books is hard. An unknown author, whose books are twice the price of a known author (I know, there's also economy of scale to consider) is unlikely to get chosen. But a lot of the time the price is out of my control...

So relationship is really important for my sales figures.

Reviews.

I do get some lovely comments from readers. I also get some lovely reviews, but not very many. That said, I'm not very good at asking for feedback. All my books are listed on Goodreads and I've done giveaways; I've had one review as a result. One. From several, multiple copy giveaways.

Book reviewers like to have ARC's (Advance Reader Copies), and I'd be happy to send some out - but who do you ask? Children? Adult readers? Book bloggers? (The latter are really hard to get featured by, and I've not seen many for children's books.) The latter tend to focus on big names...

Author events.

I do a fair few of these in schools, for groups, or at fairs. I normally hope to cover my table fee, if nothing else - but schools can be tricky as they may not want you to sell direct. Most of the money I make as an author comes from events where I'm giving a talk or running a creative writing session and charge a fee - any books sold on top are usually a bonus.

Guest blogs.

I don't do this very often, but sometimes I write blogs for other sites. This widens my reach, but doesn't necessarily convert to sales.



Looking at all of that, I think I market myself more than my books - but I market myself in order to sell my books. Does that matter? It gets sales...but maybe I need to backtrack a step.

Why did I start writing books in the first place? To give readers good stories. Did I want to be rich and famous? No - I wanted to encourage children to read. So maybe, just maybe, I need to not be so worried about the marketing? Having said that, I'll ask for more reviews. I'll blog more. I'll take another look at the website and attend more author events if life allows me to. I might even blow my own trumpet a bit more.

Oh, and I'll be sure to hand out some of my new business cards...

How to run a writing workshop - for children

Delighted to be guest blogging over at The Writer's Cookbook today, with my top tips for running a writing workshop for children.

Check it out here: The Writer's Cookbook

Will be interested to see what those of you who also run workshops for children would add to my list... Feel free to comment so we can all learn!

The laptop's retiring...

We're not sure how long we've had our laptop for. We guess well over ten years.

The soon-to-be-retired laptop, back in 2013!

It still operates in a fashion - the memory is almost full in spite of us deleting as much as we can, it runs an antiquated Word 2003, and has slow internet access. It's also got some sticky/broken buttons.

To be fair, it doesn't really bother me that much. I've often said I'm a bit of a technophobe, so I stick with what I'm used to. Hence the very old version of Word I use; I want to write, rather than faff about with settings in an unfamiliar programme. And I use the laptop a lot. Mainly because the main computer is difficult to work at because of my varifocals, but also cos the programmes look different to what I'm used to. I'm getting used to them, though...

Which is a good thing, because this Valentine's Day, I didn't get roses or chocolates. I got a new laptop.

Mr Squidge and I have been talking about umm'ing and aah'ing about replacing it for a while, and with me off on a writing retreat in early March to begin Tilda 4, it seemed like a good time to do it; new laptop, new book kind of thing.

Will it help me write any better? Don't know yet - I've got to get to grips with a whole new Word programme first.

Keep your fingers crossed for me - and for Tilda!

An author visit with added sock

Yesterday I was at Stamford High School for my first author visit of 2020; I'd been asked back three years after my first visit, to speak to Year 7 about writing and to run a short exercise on creative writing.

It was a glorious drive over the hills to Stamford - spring green in the fields nearer to Leicestershire, (though that was probably grass - the ground's still far too wet in places to plough and plant yet) and a deep red in Lincolnshire, (must be drier higher up) with the road undulating up and down like tarmacked waves. I always drive with music when I'm on my own - my CD of choice yesterday was a compilation by Fat Boy Slim, and as 'Bird of Prey' began to play, I saw not one, but two buzzards. Gosh, but they are HUGE!

I had no problem finding a place to park in Stamford, and stood watching what I think was a red kite soaring over the park. It had a deep red-brown underside and forked tail, anyway. The walk up to the school was a bit blustery, but I stopped off at St Martin's Church on the way up the hill. Last time I visited the school I sat on the church steps to eat pizza for lunch - this time, the church was open so I popped inside. It's a beautiful and peaceful building, with some really beautiful stained glass and monuments.

As to the visit itself...I had lunch with Miss S, who'd organised the visit, and a couple of other staff members. (Worth mentioning the conveyor belt to take the trays of plates away...could've played with that for a while!) And then we went to the library to meet the Book Club.

Now I've received little gifts in the past from students, but the Book Club showered me with things they'd made. The girls had been encouraged to read the Scribbles to find out a bit about me before I visited, so there were plenty of links to books, liquorice and socks!

little books (including a teensy tiny one!), origami, bracelet, cherryade,
beginnings of stories, envelopes, fortune teller and sock!

And to prove that the sock I was given fitted, here it is on my foot:

We had squash and biscuits and lots of questions, then it was time to head down to the hall (a different one to last time) to meet the whole year group. A fair few girls were presented with their merit badges before we began, then I was introduced.

I did the usual 'this is me, how I got into writing and how I go about writing' talk, then we got creative. Last time, I used my paint samples to inspire; this time I decided to use a character to spark ideas. At this point, I must credit the lovely Julie Cohen, because I attended her character workshop at York some years ago, and used some of the ideas from that but simplified them for the girls.

Eighty-seven girls got to work - and eighty-seven new characters were created. The hardest bit of the entire session wasn't getting them involved, it was getting my voice to carry. The hall was large, and my voice is still affected by this coughing virus I've had. (Six weeks and counting, but yes I've had it checked and my chest is clear...) There were some lovely ideas shared; Caleb, the slight ten year old boy who wore an oversized red sweatshirt. The object of importance which was the key to the character's heart. (Imagine, an actual key to your heart.) A cat as a character - which meant the student had to think about how to convey dialogue when it came to the character 'speaking'. Quite a few of the girls went above and beyond what I'd set them to do, and the pantsers got to work creating whole storylines...

It never ceases to amaze me how, when students are given free rein in writing sessions, so many of them can pick up an idea and run with it, without internal censoring or second guessing themselves. There's a freedom that I don't think our educational system allows students to have, which a visit like mine can allow - at least for a short time.

I really enjoyed myself - and I think the vast majority of the girls did, too. I hope that some of them will keep on writing, and one day I'll be reading their stories!

With thanks to Miss S for inviting me, to the Book Club for asking the best questions and for all my gifts, and for the whole of Year 7 for engaging so well in the workshop.

When writing's exciting

For most of the time, writing can feel like an uphill slog. You simply have to keep your bum in the seat and your pen in your hand (or fingers on the keyboard, depending on how you work).

Yes, there are occasions when I can legitimately NOT write, because I'm giving a talk, attending a book fair, or perhaps a workshop fro my own benefit; that's all still part of being an author, but it's not writing.

But most of the time, you're actually writing. And ultimately, it's a grind to get the story down, to create something that a publisher's going to want to publish and readers are going to want to read.

During that process, any author will tell you that they recognise certain stages. Here are mine:

1. Enthusiasm.

Particularly relevant to the early stages of working out a story, when ideas seem ten-a-penny and you can't get the notes down quickly enough. Notebooks are strewn around the house, with weird jottings like 'Name change!' or 'find out about cheesemaking' which make you wonder if you were suffering from temporary insanity. But you don't stop - you trust they'll all make sense at some point and be vitally important to the story you're creating. (Beware - this stage can also develop into 'Researchitis', when you get so bogged down in finding out facts to use in your story, you forget about the actual story...)

2. Hard work.

Thrashing it out. 'Growing' the story. Asking yourself questions until you're absolutely certain of this character's motivation or the time of day in that scene. Seeing the story develop into something you've got a real hope with. This probably covers my notebook version, when I'm working the story out in a general sense, and the 'shitty first draft on computer' stage too. It'll also carry me along quite comfortably to a little over half way through the 'first proper write up' on computer, where I'm beginning to edit fairly closely to produce a decently presented and structured version of the novel. Then...

3. The stall. 

You reach a point where, whichever way you turn, you can't see how to make the darn story work. All those great ideas you had seem really stupid now, and you need to fix them. But every resolution you think of churns up a new issue somewhere else, and the story begins to morph into a massively complex beast and you can't tame it. So you stop. Or feel discouraged. Or wonder how on earth you ever thought writing this novel was going to be a good idea. (And also the point where I'm most likely to give up on a story, though it's not happened that often. If I do give up, I hate that the story has 'beaten' me.)

4. Excitement.

I have to force myself back to it, ignore the stall. I'll go over what I've already written, editing the obvious things, but essentially familiarising myself with the story again. When I reach the point where I'm writing new stuff, I've probably rewritten or tweaked a fair proportion of what was already down and causing me issues. I'll have spotted plot holes and stunted dialogue or inconsistencies, made notes on how to address them, and the excitement begins to build as I continue. It's all becoming clearer in my head, the writing's flowing, and I'm then at a point where - quite suddenly - the momentum of the story is carrying me along, and I can feel the pressure mounting and my character's are doing their best to make things right but things are going wrong and there seems no way out for them and then - POW!

5. The Finishing.

There's a resolution. Everything's not necessarily finished, but the story ties up in a logical place and it feels - finally - complete. Like a real story at long last.

6. The proper edit.

The simple (hah!) act of going over the whole story and polishing it until it's glowing.

At the moment, I'm working on Tilda 3, and I'm at the fourth stage. In fact, I'm only taking time off from it now to tell that I've reached it because I'm SO excited! It's getting very Jason and the Argonauts, and Tilda's right in the middle of the action, heading full tilt towards a climax of GIGANTIC proportions.

It might still be a few weeks before I reach the fifth stage, but it feels close. A lot closer than when I was stuck at stage 3, anyway.

For now, I'll keep writing...

No, that's not Tilda - that's Jason!

Socks

My home town has a historical link to hosiery. Sadly, the factories have closed now, and there's very little hosiery production - if any - left. We do have our 'Sockman' though, a quirky statue in the market place who sits admiring a single sock on his outstretched leg.

I'm doing my bit to keep the hosiery link alive though, as I've had a bit of a binge on the old sock-knitting front recently.

People often say they must be complicated to knit, and I'd have to say that yes, it takes a while to get to grips with creating a sock, but once you've got the knack, it's really quite easy. I have one pattern that I use over and over again - I know exactly how the end result fits my feet - and I've mastered the art of holding the four double ended pins so I don't get in a tangle.

They're an easy project. Portable, quick (I can knit a good half of a plain sock in an evening while watching TV), and rather addictive. There are so many beautiful colourways, they seem to grow really quickly when the wool keeps changing colour. I now have so many pairs of hand knitted socks, I can do a complete wool cycle wash, just for them! They are so much better for my feet - I have had chilblains perhaps twice since I began knitting socks about ten years ago. Previously, it was every single winter... Woollen socks (most are 75% wool) last a lot longer too - I've not thrown any out yet.

Also - complete bonus - they give me thinking time when I'm stuck on my writing.

So, if you're interested, here are a few I've made since the autumn...

The wool for these were all gifts. The centre and right pair are the most beautiful merino wool, so very silky to wear, and hand-dyed. The rainbow striped ones have a very thin silver lurex thread, which makes them sparkle. 

All of these have lurex thread in, too. The blue-purple I knitted for my mum for Christmas; had to undo the toes and take them back a little, as I'd guessed the size slightly wrong! But that's the beauty of these socks - they take very little effort to make them fit correctly. The red-green, I knitted for Squidgeling J, also for Christmas. The final ball is a purple-grey-pale lime mix that I'm going to knit for myself at some point. Have decided you can't beat sparkly toes...

I've only knitted one purple sock so far - that wool was a pressie at Christmas. The West Yorkshire Spinners random green was picked up on the way to Bristol; we have to stop to plug Sparky in to get us all the way there, and there's a shopping outlet with a charger AND a super little wool and yarn shop. So each time we've stopped there, I've been tempted by new colours and have succumbed to a ball. Or two. I liked the fact that in the case of WYS, I'm supporting the British wool industry as well - not many places hereabouts stock this particular brand. 

Now these have a story behind them; I was asked whether I'd be willing to make a couple of pairs for someone. She preferred handmade socks but was unable to source them from the family member who used to knit them for her. And - this shocked me SO much - she'd have to pay around £20 a pair if purchasing via Etsy. Seriously - £20 a pair! (Mind you, if the wool costs around £8 a ball minimum, it doesn't give the knitter much per hour of knitting...) I said yes, checked her shoe size and knitted up a pair of odds-and-sods fairly quickly. Forgot to take a pic of those, but she loved them, they fitted - hooray! - and I agreed to knit up two more pairs from wool she'd already bought. They're the ones in this pic. (The blue-grey ones are cabled, but shhhh, don't tell her! She's not picked them up yet.) 

Before you ask, no, I'm not going to make a habit of knitting socks for other people!! For a start, most people's feet are bigger than mine, so it takes longer. Secondly, if I'm knitting, I can't write. And thirdly, my fingers can get quite stiff if I do too much in a period of time (like two pairs in a week). 

I enjoy knitting socks, but I'm going to have to ration buying the wool. I have a bagful of leftovers - I could probably keep myself in odds-and-sods socks for the next ten years, without adding any extra colours. 

See what I mean? I did use some of the stash to knit little stars to use as decorations on my brown-paper-wrapped Christmas gifts this year, but it's not made much of an impression on the pile. 

Maybe I can allow myself to buy one ball a year? Oh, and if I'm bought a ball, I won't refuse it!