As we near the end of a year, it's traditional to look back, celebrate the successes and reminisce over the highlights. I'm not sure we'll be doing much of that in 2020. However, in the spirit of the season, here are my list of things that have cheered my writing, warmed my imagination, and kept me going through a difficult year.
Deadlines
Just before we went into lockdown for the first time, I was fortunate to get a contract for a book of Welsh folktales. The deadlines were tight, especially as I had several weeks of events booked in.
Then, like an evil fairy godmother, lockdown waved her wand and my events vanished. I had a steady, manageable workload which kept me writing through April and May even when I didn't feel like writing. I have never appreciated a deadline so much.
New Technology
I hate being on camera. But thanks to some funding from Literature Wales, I took the plunge into the world of video editing. I'd made short films before, but this was a steep learning curve, using my house as backdrop, navigating arguments with my cameraman, aka husband, and getting to grips with a new editing package. I use Da Vinci Resolve, which takes a while to learn, but it's the most comprehensive free package available and there are a lot of excellent online tutorials. If you're doing a lot of filming, I recommend it. Now I just need some fancy technology to help me remember my lines.
Noise-Cancelling Headphones
Excellent for when your other half is on his sixth hour of conference calls in the spare bedroom above your office.
Podcasts
I'd never really bothered with them before, but when I wasn't in the right frame of mind for reading, which has happened a lot, it's been great to listen to something instead. Here are some of my favourites.
Death of 1,000 Cuts - I'm up to day 66 of the 100 day writing challenge on this one. The ten minute exercises are perfect to get me started on days when writing is hard.
The Two Princes Warm and funny with a witty script that plays with many fairytale tropes.
Escape Pod Science fiction short stories, all excellently narrated.
Stretchy M&S Bra Tops
You can ignore this one, gentlemen. But why put up with uncomfortable clothes when it doesn't matter what you look like?
Small Routines
From bacon sandwiches on Fridays to a daily walk. When days blur into one it's good to have a way of making some moments stand out. I have a rule that I must go outside once a day, even if it's just a five minute walk around the block.
Looking Forward
I am very grateful for small things this year, but the lockdown has brought some major changes too. In particular, with my husband working from home, we decided to pursue our 'retirement dream' of moving out of the city. Why wait for retirement, after all, when next year we may all be squashed by a falling asteroid or eaten by zombies. (After this year, I'm not ruling anything out.)
So, in a few weeks time, we'll be packing up over twenty years of belongings and moving north to a village just outside Abergavenny. The fact that it's where I set my last book is not coincidental - I've been drawn to the area for a long time.
New surroundings. New people to meet. New bookshops to explore. New inspiration. New books to write? I hope so. Here's to a happy 2021!
Like many authors up and down the country, I rely on school visits and festivals for a good chunk of my income. Lockdown started almost at the end of my event bonanza surrounding National Book Week back in March. My last appearance was at the fabulous Pink Pig Farm in Brig. I spent a very happy and productive weekend with fellow authors and Mel and Nick, the wonderful owners of the Rabbit Hole bookshop. We told stories, read from our work, signed books and tucked more than we should have into Pink Pig's state-ot-the-art cooked breakfasts.
Fast forward a week and my inbox was flooded with emails cancelling bookings in the summer term. Luckily, I was about to sign a new four-book deal with independent publishers Maverick so I knew I could keep my head above water for an extended period of time. Schools were soon asking if I would do online sessions, though, and the agencies I work through started looking into the possibility of supplying them. I was hesitant at first. I hate the sound of my voice and don't really like how I look on screen or in photographs. In actual visits, I forget about these trivialities like this once I get into the pace of things but, on zoom or whatever, there is no way of escaping the vision of my gurning face.
As the summer wore on and it looked like actual school visits would not be happening till 2021, I forced myself to 'snap out of it' as Cher said in Moonlight. I've actually done quite a few visits, culminating in six sessions with a school in Shanghai last week and two events of the East Riding Festival of Words. I can't claim to be an expert on the subject, but here's a few tips I picked up which might prove useful to other members of the SAS.
1. THERE'S MORE THAN ONE PLATFORM
In the media you read and hear mostly about zoom but there are alternatives. The education authorities in the East Riding of Yorkshire, for example, prefer to use Microsoft Teams. It's something to do with privacy issues. I've also done events on Google Hangout Meets and Skype. They're all more or less the same but do check with the schools what platform they are using so you'll have plenty of time install on your computer and get familiar with it.
2. TO RECORD OR NOT TO RECORD.
Some schools insist that you do not record the session and some ask if they can. I always refuse to let the session be recorded, partly because of privacy issues but mostly because I want the repeat business. I treat my sessions as actual in the flesh visits, except that I'm looking at the kids through the window of my mac. Recording the sessions destroys that unique 'in the moment' experience.
3. WILL YOU HOST?
Most of the schools organise and schedule the event themselves but a few asked that I set it up myself. If they go for the second options, it is very easy to set up. You just schedule a meeting and the platform gives you an event id which you send to the school. Come the hour and the moment, the school logs in and you just click on the accept the invite button. Easy peasy.
4 IS THAT THE TIME?
If you are doing an international event, make sure you check what time you need to log in. My Shanghai events were schedulted for 12.15 their time. Which meant I had to get up at the crack of dawn to be ready for 6.15am our time. Checking everything was set up at 5.30am I realised I might disturb my elderly neighbour whose bedroom shares a party wall with my office. I hastily decamped to the kitchen where I could howl, crack jokes and generally create a rumpus without waking up the neighbours.
5 CHECK THE BACKGROUND
My hasty retreat to the kitchen necessitated a quick tidy up. Make sure you check the background before going live. This is the perfect opportunity to display artefacts relevant to your subject and show off your new books. I do this using the photobooth app on my laptop but obviously, you can use any camera that will show you what the audience is going to see.
6 IT TAKES TIME...
...as in, this is new territory for most of us so it will take a while to find out what works for you. I love doing writing workshops in actual visits but I couldn't get them to work online. Ditto with storytelling. I need to be in the same room with the audience for the latter to work as I pick up on the kids's vibes to help steer my delivery. This is nigh on impossible if the kids are just a fuzzy image on a screen. I now read a couple of chapters from the book I'm promoting, talk about the background to the story and how and why I wrote it, and finish off with time for a Q&A.
7 SEEING IS BELIEVING
Larger festivals often host a prep session before the event. Most of the authors participating join in with these and they're a good way to find out how others approach their events. One or two organisers said the audience would not be visible during the entire session and that any questions would be put forward through the chat function on the app. I found not seeing the audience hard going but answering questions that appear in the chat box quite easy. Make sure that you discuss your preferences with the event organiser so that you can relax and concentrate on giving your best performance.
I hope I haven't been teaching my grandmother to suck eggs, as the saying goes. Good luck with your online sessions. Although I just can't wait to start visiting schools again, I plan to keep online sessions to reach places I can't access otherwise. It's a brave new world out there. Let's meet it with confidence.
Saviour's latest Early Reader, Samira's Wish, is out now with WackyBee books. His third instalment in the Wolfsong Series, The Mysterious Island will be published on the 21st January 2021. Follow Saviour on twitter @spirotta and on Instagram @saviour2858.
Something to ponder as the nights draw in: how do you nourish your soul?
I’ve been thinking ahead to possible lockdowns this winter, and wondering what I can do to keep my spirits up and stay inspired. I might re-read my favourite childhood books, take virtual gallery tours, buy a fire pit and start taking a flask on my walks. I’ve also just discovered Storygraph, which finds books for you, based on your preferences.
Creatives talk about ‘filling the well’. Julia Cameron (in her book The Artists’ Way) tells us to take ourselves on an ‘Artist Date’ once a week. Some of these options aren't going to be available now, though:
The Artist Date, an hour or longer weekly block of time spent on yourself and with yourself, doing something ‘festive’, is intended to engender release. Release, in turn, engenders inspiration.
In Manhattan, a particularly magical Artists’ Date for me was a visit to the Compleat Traveler, a small, treasure-laden store on the corner of Thirty-fifth Street and Madison Avenue. Filled with everything from maps of Ireland, Polynesia, and the Isle of Wight to vintage books on Marco Polo and the Himalayas, it is a world where time and distance conspire and conjoin.
Aquarium stores, museums, cathedrals, flea markets, or five-and-dimes… vintage films, lectures on the odd, the improbable, or merely interesting … musical performances by traveling Tibetan monks, a trip to a quiet, riverside spot – any of these can function as an Artist Date.
An Artist date is about following your bliss – allowing yourself to be drawn to activities or places simply because you have an inner pull towards these things. You don’t need to think about the reason why you love looking at old maps, or knitting, or taking photos of industrial estates. You’re following your hunches and allowing your curiosity to lead you.
However, I suspect there are certain things about a hobby or an interest that ‘answer’ a need in our unconscious. Nourishing our souls by ‘filling the well’ can inspire and inform our exploration in other, unrelated areas.
This winter, we might have to do more solitary, indoor things to nourish our souls. I asked a group of students this question last week and their answers were: jigsaws, long walks, cold water swimming, films, tarot cards, scrabble, working with clay, painting, drawing…
My neighbours have bought a hot tub!
I also hope to get some work done.
What about you?
And on the topic of winter and creativity, here's an article I love by Jeanette Winterson, who explains why she ‘adores the night'.
Just a short one this month as I'm too busy feeling anxious and creating a spreadsheet of how I can see my various kids and family in all their different Tier locations.
The return of two universities worth of students from all over the country has led to our city's rates shooting up and me wondering if I'm going to be locked down again.
Luckily, I've written a book about preparing for disaster which foreshadowed the toilet roll shortages so I am obviously an expert. I share with you my essential writers' toolkit of supplies to see you through the long, long winter months:
Item: Notebooks
If you call yourself a writer, you will probably have already stockpiled pre-2020 more than you will ever ever need in your own lifetime (especially as you type your manuscripts) but you just can't stop collecting the damn things.
Item: TBR pile of novels
TBR
This should be the equivalent of three times your own height and make you feel stressed or it is not a proper TBR pile.
Item: Post-it notes
Winter months will fly by if you colour-code all the plots and sub plots in your manuscript.
Item: Desk buddy
This is your constant work colleague for those water cooler moments and to discuss the latest Netflix series. You can bounce all those knotty plot problems off your desk buddy so choose wisely.
Item: Thingammybob
Weird and intriguing object to have in the background on your zoom calls and author You Tube videos. This will distract your 'viewers' from the state of your hair and level of your conversation.
Item:Tea bags
Quantity = 3 x (hours of writing) x 140/y where y = procrastination ratio
You're welcome.
Tracy Darnton is the author of YA thrillers The Truth About Lies and The Rules. She's meant to be concentrating on writing the next one.
What with one thing and another (!) I'm behind on my work-in-progress. A deadline is looming and I'm on holiday followed around by a big cloud of guilt and reliant on patchy wifi to do anything work- related. My writing had already been shunted all summer to the end of a more pressing To Do list.
In one of my school sessions I talk about all the different things I need to pour into my brain for my own creative writing to come out. My own input/output chart includes many things I haven't been able to access recently like live theatre, cinema, bookish chats with writing groups, snippets of strangers' conversations overheard on trains, museum exhibits, armfuls of books I've been able to concentrate on etc, etc.
And, it turns out, a global pandemic and its many anxieties mess up the machinery no end. Output is stalled.
I'm pinning my hopes on setting to get the writing going. I'm back in the West Country taking pics of creekside settings and suitable houses for my next thriller. I'm hoping that 'seeing' and 'feeling' parts of my book will push me on with it. Cooped up in my city house for so many months has made it hard to picture beaches and sea and tidal river creeks and to remember all these places I thought I knew so well.
But now all these places have a new importance to them too beyond their role as settings for the book. I'm saving up some 'good for the soul' moments and images to fortify me in the tricky winter months ahead. I'm topping up my creative brain but also 'me'. I need these mind memories of normality with my family, of the great outdoors, sandy toes, kayaks gliding on creeks, herons taking flight.
I hope you all found some moments this summer of your own to add to your store. I'll leave you with my one from last night: supper on a deserted beach with the kids, layered-up as the sea mist rolled in.
Tracy Darnton is the author of thrillers The Truth About Lies and The Rules, published in lockdown. She hopes to finish the next book one day soon. You can follow Tracy on Twitter @TracyDarnton
This is an older post from The Creative Independent blog, and I hope they don't mind me posting an excerpt here. It seems relevant for those who might be using this time to think up new income streams – or rethink your entire creative practice.
From the longer article, ‘How to Recession-Proof Your Creative Practice’ is the following section on ‘serious play’. Creativity is about combining previously unconnected elements. If we combine our own previously unconnected interests/activities/habits, maybe we can come up with some new avenues for our creative practice?
Serious Play
"Recessions begin with widespread pessimism and survival, and end with optimism and opportunity. As the recession ends, those who survive make plans to grow again. Apple is famous for developing new products during a recession and launching them just as it ends. The first iPod was launched in October 2001, just as an eight-month recession was coming to an end. To get to your own iPod idea, try this creative practice—Serious Play.
Learning by playing has its roots in the kindergarten, Montessori, and Waldorf children’s school movements of 19th-century Europe. But it was “Homo Ludens,” “Humans the Players,” by Johan Huizinga in 1938 that showed how important play is to generating culture. In play, you can change the rules of the game or even create a whole new game. Plus, you can change the playground, the space where you play.
Play is actually one of the most productive things you can do in a recession. My favorite game is called “match up.” Much, maybe most, innovation involves just two steps: Take an old product or business, and match it to a new technology. Amazon began when Bezos took book selling in stores and stuck it on the internet. Zuckerberg took physical photo sharing and poured it through the internet. Listening to music? Hook it up to the net. Transportation? Zip Car, Uber. Renting? Airbnb.
Of course, you don’t need technology to play. Eddie Huang took the traditional Taiwanese meat-filled gua boa, started filling it with Niman Ranch pork belly and Cherry Coca Cola, and named his restaurant Baohaus. I just had my first iced cardamom coffee float at Hampton Chutney in Amagansett. How did these ideas come about? Play.
Serious play is a method of designing the future. And that is how you should spend your time in recession: designing your future."
Try writing 20 different habits/interests/practices dotted across a large piece of paper. For example: Blogs, writing, children, teaching, libraries, families, storytelling, reading, NHS ... etc. Then randomly connect these words in pairs, and try freewriting for five minutes on the relationship between them. Perhaps it will trigger a new approach, like 'reading stories online' or 'blogs for children' or 'writing about the NHS'.
Heather Dyer teaches Writing for Children for the Open College of the Arts, and provides writing and publishing advice through The Literary Consultancy, The Writers' Advice Centre for Children's Books, and privately. If you’re ready for feedback on your work-in-progress contact Heather at heatherdyerbooks@gmail.com.
I had been warned. So many people had told me: 'Don't be surprised if at some point on your publication day, you stop and think I'm really unhappy.'
I had been warned, and I was prepared. I spent a large portion of the week in the run up to the publication of my debut novel, utterly miserable. Get into the right frame of mind early, I told myself, then you won't be disappointed on the day. A friend invited me out on a socially distanced walk, where I moaned to her the whole time. When the Whatsapp group I'd set up months previously excitedly asked what our plans were for a Zoom launch party, I half-heartedly passed on the organisation to my husband. I fretted that my best friend had suddenly become less available to chat, now, in my time of need.
In short, I was awful.
The day arrived. I attempted normality: toddler up, milk given, ready for nursery. I was watering the garden when the doorbell rang.
'Something for Holly!' the DPD driver chirped, indicating a flat parcel on the porch. Inside: a silver box, beautifully illustrated. Inside that, an array of chocolates, each one delicately iced with flowers and letters: 'MIDNIGHT'S TWINS BY HOLLY RACE'. The card told me it was from a scriptwriter who I've never met in person. We have been working together remotely since the start of the year, and I was starting to think of her as a friend, but this - this was beyond normal six-month friendship. But she knew how much the book meant to me, and being a writer herself knew how much of one's soul you can pour into your work. I message her effusions. Her response: 'I'm just glad they didn't forget the apostrophe.'
Then my husband approaches. 'You know that parcel from Germany that arrived the other day?'
'The one I teased you about being even more camera equipment you didn't need?' I say.
'Yeah.' He hands the box to me. Inside is a heavy, enamelled pen. Engraved on the lid: today's date. 'For all the book signings you're going to do.'
I'm already welling up a bit, so I cover and show husband my thanks in the form of several badly decorated cupcakes. I'm interrupted in my baking by a socially distanced visit from my parents, who have gently supported my writing hobby since I, aged five, wrote 'The Mirror Girl', about a girl called Holly whose reflection stepped out of the mirror and caused havoc in her name. They bring that story with them now, and hand me an envelope containing a sketch of a horse - horses are an important feature of my book - by a prominent artist.
So many instances of kindness and generosity. I realise, once my parents have left, that I have only felt warm joy today, my anticipated disappointment balmed by my loved ones' excitement.
I spend my afternoon cycling to my nearest friends to give them the aforementioned questionably decorated cupcakes. When I get home we order takeaway and, in anticipation of tonight's Zoom party, I brush my hair for the first time in three days. I like to make an effort.
When the time comes to open Zoom, I am expecting to see a small but lovely gathering of familiar faces. As it happens, not everyone will fit onto our screen. Fifty friends and family members have turned up. It's more people than I've seen in one place since my sixth form leaver's do, let alone since lockdown.
That's when things start to get weird. My tech-savvy husband begins tinkering with the laptop - in itself this is not unusual, but when combined with the expectant silence of my friends, my spidey senses are tingling. Husband presses 'play' and suddenly my best friend's unavailability over the last couple of weeks is explained. He had been making this:
When the video ends, I'm directed towards the doormat. Lying there is a copy of my book, filled with messages from friends and family across the country. Alongside it: a package containing a necklace that appears in Midnight's Twins and an enormous chocolate cake, complete with a fondant copy of my book, decorated in painstaking detail.
Over the course of the next few hours, as I get gradually merrier on elderflower champagne, the logistics of how they did this are explained to me. That walk I took with my friend? Engineered so that my best friend and husband could finish the video. Socially distanced meet ups in a Cambridge park, with friends driving in from the Fens to leave a message in the book. A drive around London, carrying not only the book but hand sanitiser and masks to ensure Coronavirus safety. And so many postcards and messages sent in from further afield to be slotted into the pages. I don't let myself read all the messages in front of my friends, because I know I'll end up a blubbering mess.
Later that night, when everyone else has gone to bed, I open it up and read the messages in private. Half my friends barely read at all, most of them are not particularly interested in young adult stories. This is true friendship, of the kind I never thought I'd have and certainly don't deserve - not if my behaviour over the last week is anything to go by, at least.
Over the next few days, friends visit my garden to help me eat the chocolate cake. The chocolates sent by the writer friend dwindle; iced flowers first, then the ones bearing letters. I put the necklace away, to be worn when I see people or take book-related photos. But nothing will ever replace the gooey knowledge of how my friends and family turned what was set to be an anti-climactic lockdown publication into one of the best days of my life.
This blog has crept up on me in the strange time warp of lockdown. What week is it? I've no idea. This is blog number four (four!!!) since this started. As I'm measuring my life now by Bin Day and Bin Day Eve, rather than by actual dates or months, I'm afraid this one is rather last minute.
So I thought I'd share my Lockdown Box. In this weird twilight world of Lockdown/Not Lockdown, I've been thinking that even though we as a family are still largely marooned at home, something has shifted and we should assess Lockdown and better still, put it in a box. I want to do something practical in the same way I do after a bereavement or a momentous family occasion. I curate it, tame it, make it something I can put a lid on and file on a shelf. Something we can revisit in the future. What did you do in the Lockdown, Great Granny? Well, I shall say. Hold my cocoa and pass me that dusty box.
What's in it?
I half wish I could include that letter from the Government but it was ceremoniously ripped into tiny pieces. Or the giant catering can of tinned tomatoes that my local greengrocers improvised and kindly delivered to us. Or one of the lids of ice cream cartons from Deliver Moo keeping us supplied from our local Marshfield Ice Cream. Or the terrible 21st birthday cake I made from any old rubbish in the cupboard.
I do have celebration cards for my kids stuck with their parents instead of celebrating rites of passage end of A levels and uni finals. And mementoes from the Hay festival they recreated in the garden for my birthday.
And we've added the art we painted after watching Grayson Perry and a picture of our Lockdown Reading Pile. And the map of footpaths we discovered on our doorstep for all those walks which kept us going. And the menu from my Come Dine With Me Sicilian evening that I hoped would start off the rest of the family to do the same - but sadly didn't.
And the book I worked so hard on but am bringing out with no book launch party - just a supreme sense of irony as it's about the effects on a family of preparing for disasters like pandemics. Yes, dear Reader, I foresaw the toilet roll shortages.
Lastly, I'm a list maker - To Do, Shopping, Birthday gifts to buy, TBR - so we're starting another list. A family list poem.
The Lockdown A to Z.
The poem's too personal, too angry in places, too mundane in others to share on this blog. And, anyway, you can guess what my Z stands for. I recommend it as a way, whatever your age, to remember and to make sense of what we've experienced so far.
It's not finished yet - becauseLockdown/Not Lockdown isn't finished. But when it is, it's going in the box.
Tracy Darnton writes YA thrillers. Her latest novel The Rules is published on July 9th. It will be launched in a socially distanced way on Twitter @TracyDarnton but she's looking forward to a future party.
It is very unlike me to be in the fashion. I am either a late adopter or, more often, a non-adopter of trends. But my new hobby, which is really a rediscovery of an old one, is very zeitgeisty right now. Like millions of other locked-down people, I have taken to two wheels.
For me, it’s not about finding a healthier, non-germ-ridden alternative to public transport: living in rural Northern Ireland, public transport isn’t much of an option at the best of times. Nor is it really for exercise – I’ve always walked miles every day and for the last year I’ve been running too.
my first trusty steed, circa 1977
No, I’m cycling for fun. Just for the craic. After not having been on a bike for almost thirty years, I am rekindling a joy in speed and freedom which I haven’t known for years. I remember going on rides as a child on my trusty Raleigh Amber with Vicky, my friend, on her Dawes Kingpin. There was something transgressive about taking these bikes out of our estate, sometimes even out of Belfast. Our mothers never knew how far we went and we never told them. Often my bike was a pony, sometimes a motorbike, sometimes a flying carpet – for a child, having two wheels as well as an imagination made the world a much bigger place.
My partner is a ‘real’ cyclist and for the first few weeks I was content to puff along behind on his son’s mountain bike – for the loan of which I was very grateful. I was surprised at how easily I got used to being back in the saddle. In lockdown, we’ve been able to get much further on two wheels than on two legs and I’ve been able to get to know the countryside around his home, where I’ve been staying, more thoroughly than when I was only walking the dog or running the very local roads. And it wasn’t long before I started to covet the sleek lines of a road bike, and so my new trusty steed came into my life.
my new trusty steed
The heroine of my (adult) work in progress, Stella, has also just bought a bike. It’s 1933 so her bike is heavy, and black, and she is wondering if she can get used to these new-fangled gears – three of them! Like me, she's part of a boom: cycling for leisure, as well as transport, was very trendy in the thirties. Like me she hasn’t cycled since she was young, though at 30 she’s much younger than I am, but it’s been fun imagining that we’re sharing the same joy in an old hobby rediscovered.
Stella's trusty steed would have looked something like this
Has anyone else used lockdown to rediscover an old passion?
I’ve been really interested in how people are responding to
Lockdown because the reactions seem to be such extreme contrasts. From the
people like me who are finding it a calm respite from normal life and getting
more work done (don’t be jealous, I will find the other 99.9% of my life extremely
difficult, allow me this moment) to the people who have started talking to the
dead bluebottles on their windowsills just for some social interaction.
For some it’s been a pause button, for some an opportunity
to discover nature or art or cooking or community. For some it’s been a
frustrating waste of precious months of their lives. Some creatives are churning
out the pages and some are creatively paralysed. Some people are enjoying home
schooling time with the kids, some are campaigning to give all teachers a knighthood.
Some people are convinced it’s going to change the way we live for ever (surely
we can never go back to normal!) and others are trying desperately to recreate normal
via Zoom and online shopping.
I did think I was in the minority when it came to enjoying
Lockdown. I even felt bad about it, when so many people are finding it tough.
But then I was chatting (in a socially distant way) to a friend who said she
was loving it too and didn’t want to go back to normal. Now, this is someone who
I’d have put firmly in the ‘climbing the walls’ category. She’s very sociable,
very busy, loves shopping and, due to health issues, has been stuck
at home for the duration, complete with working via Zoom and home-schooling two
kids. But she said that it’s taken this situation to make her realise just how
ridiculously busy and stressed she was. Now there’s no social stuff or
afterschool activities or birthday parties or playdates or supermarkets or
pressure to do anything and she says she’s enjoying it so much she now has to
be persuaded to go out even for a walk.
So that surprised me and I did a couple of highly unscientific
polls on Twitter to see what people thought. Here are the results:
Aside from the health/economic/anxiety elements, how are
you finding lockdown?
I have a better quality of life and I don’t want to go back
to normal - 71%
If this goes on one more day I’m going to jump out a window
- 29%
In the future, what would you keep from Lockdown living
if you could?
Having more free time - 33%
Working from home - 18%
Home schooling - 4%
Shopping/spending less - 45%
Now that we’re 3 months in, how would you say Lockdown
has affected the volume of work you’re doing/producing?
More (cos more free time) - 19.4%
More (cos less stressed) - 8.3%
Less (cos too stressed) - 41.7%
Less (cos less free time) - 30.6%
If you’ve stopped wearing makeup for the duration, will
you go back to it when things return to normal?
Yes, can’t wait - 27%
Yes, reluctantly - 43%
Hell no - 30%
I have no scientific conclusions to draw from this, I just
thought it was interesting that:
More people than I’d expected are finding positive things to
say about Lockdown living.
Shopping/spending less came out on top of things you’d keep
from Lockdown. For me this is more about shopping because I hate shopping, but
it’s been nice to save money too. Though given the economic nightmare we’re apparently
heading for, that could be short lived.
Not as many people as I’d thought are enjoying working from
home. I quite like working from home but my husband doesn’t and this is an
ongoing issue for him as he works for a foreign company who would like their
employees to work from home instead of providing office space for them. Working
from home used to be seen as a big luxury, but the more we do it, I think the
more we realise it’s not good for us. Not having the choice either way is probably
the worst scenario.
Despite 71% of people saying their quality of life is
better, 72% of creatives say they’re getting less work done due to lack of time
or more stress. Hmm. Don’t know what to make of that one. Could it be that my
tiny poll sample is NOT definitive?
Everyone hates makeup! Well, 73% of makeup wearers hate
makeup apparently. So why are we all wearing it? We’re propping up a billion
dollar industry whose sole intention is to make us feel bad about ourselves and
WE DON’T EVEN LIKE THE STUFF! (And don’t @ me about female empowerment, I have
dry skin around my eyes that has completely cleared up for the first time in
years and I don’t wanna hear it. If it’s so empowering, why aren’t men wearing
it?) Anyway, I’m not throwing my makeup out, and when winter comes and I look
like the living dead again I’ll probably cave, but maybe only for special events
from now on.
In terms of productivity, I am much less stressed and
distracted when I don’t have to talk to people so I’m probably getting more
done because of that. But I’ve also just finished a draft of something and my
brain’s gone, OK holiday time! and I’ve done very little the past few weeks. I
think long term, Lockdown would make me more creative but I guess we’ll never know.
So how's your work going and what would you keep, if anything, from Lockdown?
Kelly McCaughrain is the author of the Children's Books Ireland Book of the Year,
6am - Alarm goes off. Snooze it several times during early morning browse of Netgalley and Goodreads. My first novel is being published on 11th June and I have not yet found it within myself to heed my fellow authors' advice to step away from the reviews, Holly.
6:30am - Reluctantly get up and even more reluctantly do some yoga to ease the toddler-related back pain that has been plaguing me since the second week of lockdown.
7am - Load up 4thewords.com and speed write 500 words of second novel, keeping an eye on the baby monitor for signs of movement. For those not in the know, 4thewords has been my lifesaver during lockdown. I have always found it best to write early drafts as quickly as possible, and using programs or games that encourage me to type against the clock are the best way to get me to ignore my inner editor. 4thewords is extra brilliant because every word you type helps to fight monsters and buy equipment like golden chests and raw gold. A good one for writers who also enjoy D&D.
8:30am - 2-year-old daughter wakes up and demands Peppa Pig for the first - but not last - time today. My feelings on Peppa are very similar to Stanley Tucci's, but if it keeps her occupied for twenty minutes then I'm not complaining. I spend my time well, browsing Netgalley and Goodreads just in case anyone's posted a review in the last two hours.
9am - Attempt to fool the toddler into believing that Duplo, train tracks and serving cake to her soft toys are every bit as exciting as they were when we started playing them nine weeks ago. Eventually give up and let her daub the kitchen in paint while I catch up on emails.
10am - Bribe toddler with raisins to get her to behave while I call my cousin on Zoom. We moan at each other for thirty minutes solid. It feels amazing.
10:30am - Say 'tag!' cheerily to husband as he gets off his morning work calls and lie to him that 'she's in a good mood today'. Maybe if he goes into it with optimism it'll rub off on the little one. Speed write another 500 words on 4thewords while husband and toddler run backwards and forwards past my office door. Defeat a 'Wignow', which looks like a cross between a hedgehog and a gerbil. Would quite like one as a pet.
11am - Facetime with a scriptwriter who I am doing some freelance editing work with. The majority of our dealings have occurred during lockdown so we've never met in person, but we have already shared in depth details of our various bodily pains, and photos of ourselves wearing onesies. She's brilliant and I am a bit in love with her.
12pm - Retrieve obligatory lockdown homemade sourdough from the bread bin and attempt to persuade the toddler to eat some with poached egg. Eventually give in and hand her a fruit pouch. Husband and I make comforting noises but share dispirited glances: she is regressing during lockdown and it's making us feel like utter failures.
1pm - Read The Gruffalo and If I Had a Dinosaur for the millionth time. Share a cuddle with toddler as she tries to convince us that she can fall asleep in our bed. Heart swells as she scrunches her eyes up and makes loud breathing noises. Gives up after three minutes, licks my nose and giggles loudly. We take her to her cot, tuck her in and close the door. Agree that she really is the cutest. Especially when she's asleep.
1:30pm - Attempt to write while listening to toddler babbling away happily to herself upstairs. It's becoming abundantly clear that she is ready to drop her lunch nap. Reader, we are not ready for her to drop her lunch nap. Give up on writing and read 'The Bookseller' instead, adding a multitude of books mentioned in its pages to my already bulging Amazon wishlist. Ten weeks ago I had somewhat foolishly imagined that lockdown would give me a chance to catch up on my reading pile, apparently forgetting that I have several jobs and a sproglet.
2:30pm - Give up on all pretence of work and spend twenty minutes eating crisps and watching clips from The Greatest Showman on YouTube, just to admire the perfection that is Zendaya.
3pm - Admit that toddler is not going to sleep and let her drink milk while watching CBeebies. Browse Netgalley and Goodreads - it's been a whole five hours, after all.
3:21pm - Surprise delivery! The proofs of my book have arrived! They've been stuck in a warehouse since the start of lockdown and I actually received the finished copies a few days ago, but this is still thrilling! Persuade toddler to hand me the books one by one so I can arrange them on my bookshelves. Only a few get creased covers in the process.
4pm - Husband takes toddler out for a walk while I attempt to write another 1000 words and write five blog posts and record a video for my publicist and read a script for a production company. I manage 200 words, a bullet point and a social media browse before he returns.
5:30pm - Take toddler into the garden while husband returns to work. Get her to load the mealworms into the bird feeder because I am creeped out by them and she isn't. Try to convince her that watering herbs is a fun game.
6pm - Concede to toddler's demands to watch 'Hey Duggee' and retire to the kitchen to make dinner. Try to listen to podcasts for intellectual stimulation but instead can only hear the distant beat of 'Stick stick stick stick sticky sticky stick stick' coming from the sitting room.
6:30pm - Sit down for dinner. Attempt to discuss news and work with husband but just end up explaining thirty times in a row why toddler can't get down from her high chair until we've all finished eating.
7:30pm - Begin bedtime routine. Read entire collection of picture books before toddler finally concedes that she is actually quite tired.
9pm - Tidy house in manner of zombie and collapse onto sofa to answer emails, Zoom friends and cry quietly about how little work we have actually got done today compared to how much we needed to get done. Briefly consider trying to write a bit more but admit defeat.
10pm - Go to bed, but spend at least an hour refreshing Netgalley and Goodreads in a cloud of self-reproach before finally falling asleep.
Holly Race worked for many years as a script editor in film and television, before becoming a writer.
Her debut novel, Midnight's Twins, is published by Hot Key Books on 11th June 2020. She also selectively undertakes freelance script editing and story consultant work.
Well yes. Kind of. Ish. But I do
think it’s useful to have some sort of learning from all this, in regards to
how I write, and to reflect and think about what works and what doesn’t.
Of course, these rules – these
‘ways’ - are really for me.But you may find them useful, if only to
prompt you to think about your own writing practice and what habits work for
you right now.
As a general point, I’m going to take a leaf
from the radical thinker and scientist Rupert Sheldrake, who challenges the
very idea of the ‘laws’ of nature and asks us instead to think of them instead
as nature’s ‘habits;’ recurring patterns that may seem fixed but which can
change and evolve as their relationship with the other ‘laws’ and the very stuff
of the universe evolve.
Which is really a pseud-y
way of saying: There are habits that work at certain times and these are mine
right now.
Here goes, here’s what I
tell myself:
1Be kind to yourself and your words
Don’t get all judge-y and down on what you
write. It’s a weird time and it may (*ahem*) affect what gets on to the page.
But that’s normal in a way. Because personally, I find whatever’s going on in
my life finds it’s way into the words, whether consciously or unconsciously.And it’s always been like that.
2Write something
Back to habit.As the old saying goes, you can’t edit a
blank page. Regularity is key. That said…
3Quantity
is not quality
I’m really pleased for the writers who signal on
Twitter when they’ve hit a certain number of words on their WIP. But for me, a
good day’s writing is increasingly about quality. If I put a lot of time in and
ditch most of the words, but keep, say, 200 that feel honest and true to
whatever it is I’m trying to express or describe, then that’s a good day’s
work.
4Wake
up.Write.
When I get a day when I can write it only works one way.Wake. Read. Coffee. Write. Thinking: ‘I’ll do some later when I’ve got
that other stuff done,’ simply does not work.There is simply too much ‘other stuff’. Plus the other, other stuff I didn’t plan for, or even know about. To
paraphrase Woodhouse; I often think the day is going swimmingly. But just round
the corner fate is calmly stuffing lead into a boxing glove.
5 Play
I listened to an interview
with the annoyingly brilliant Marcus Sedgwick, the other day. He goes through long
spells of not-writing, and/or finding it simply very difficult. He says what
brings him back, is encouraging himself to simply play. I’d go with that.I have to be inspired to write, and if that
means the odd turn into a strange and never visited dusty town, where I feel a
bit nervous but where I can kind of fool around and be foolish, because no-one
knows me there...Then so be it.
6Write something new or different
I always write on Saturday morning, in bed
with strong coffee. Have done for years. But on this special day of the week I
don’t have to re-write the bit I did before, or write the bit that follows
on.I can do whatever I fancy:A different character’s POV.Something from a different part of thebook. Something that could be part of a
different book all together. It’s quite surprising how much of this stuff
actually makes it into the final draft. Or maybe not surprising at all.
7 Go there!
That place you weren’t sure
of, that idea that seems a bit rad, or simply difficult, but which won’t go
away. Could be dark, disturbing, surreal, bonkers.Good to explore anyway, right.I can always not-use it.
8When
it’s too chaotic, try and make some order, and vice versa.
And
9Rules
are there to be broken.
Chris Vick writes books about the sea, adventure and
the wonder of magic and stories.
He spent years working in whale conservation before
enrolling on the Bath Spa MA in Writing for Young People. He has four books
published in several countries.
The most recent Girl.Boy.Sea is shortlisted for the
CILIP Carnegie medal 2020.
Chris has appeared at festivals including Hay, Bath
Children’s Literature festival and Mare di Libri (Sea of Books) in Italy and
has written about writing issues for a wide range of media.
