Today,
My Best Beloveds, (she quoted), I will tell you the story of
How The Scattered Authors Society Came to Be. Please,
grab a tea or coffee and settle yourself down for a long,
restful moment.
Three
weeks ago, among some old papers, I found a set of newsletters.
These real, printed sheets were once folded by a real person,
slid into real envelopes, dropped
into a real-life,
bright-red post-box, collected in a sack- and a day or two later delivered to my
house by a real-life postman.
The
first letter has the same date as today - April the First, and which is why I'm publishing this post today
- but the year, way back when, was 1998.
This All Fool’s Day
letter is almost the start of what is now known as the Scattered
Authors Society. Where
did these Newsletters come from, and why? What’s the story behind
what’s jokingly known as the “Other” SAS?
Back in 1998, three rather solitary Scholastic authors:
Peter Beere, Anne
Cassidy and Malcolm
Rose, were put in touch with
each other by a friendly editor, Anne Finnis. They met up at the Ibis
hotel in Birmingham, eager to chat about their writing lives. joys and
woes, even during the Chinese meal that followed.
They
were, I’ve been told, “together in the bar and couldn't
stop talking. So much in common, so much to share about writing,
publishing, the whole thing, and they could talk endlessly without
anyone keeling over with boredom, as can happen with friends and
family. They spoke about how rare it was for authors to meet like
this because we are all 'Scattered'.
Peter recently stressed that Anne and Malcolm were “largely
responsible for the success of the early years. Anne, of course,
being a teacher, was used to organising things. My approach was more
slapdash. I just hoped that people would turn up and we’d find
something to talk about! (Which we always did.)’
Taking
that ‘scattered’ idea, Peter ran with it. He sent a letter
to The Author ( The
Society of Authors’ quarterly journal) inviting
anyone interested in meeting up informally for friendship and
the sharing of information, to get in touch. ‘I
saw the letter . . .
and it was like a life line,’ Celia Rees says. ‘Suddenly,
I was not alone. I wrote back to Peter straight away.’
When the replies arrived, they were all from writers for children and
teenagers, shaping the future membership of the group.
Back then was well before the current academic ‘writing for children”
courses, the reach of SCBWI UK, or other familiar networks.
These writers definitely felt a need to get together.
So what came after the letter in ‘The Author’? And how did the newsletter
shape the SAS? And its aometimes awkward mood, perhaps?
Now, Peter
Beere was an original
thinker with a rather battered energy and a dark but hopeful
sense of humour. After writing several books for teenagers, he felt
messed about by cuts and changes in the publishing world and wanted
to hear how other writers faced hard
moments of the mostly solitary writing life.
When Peter’s
first letter arrived through the letter-box,
his
distinctive tongue-in-the-cheek style immediately gave the group an
interesting, informal and self-reliant tone. The SAS felt like a
group of people you both wanted and needed to get to know, a group that knew writing was not all sunlight and joy.
In
that April the First Letter, Peter wrote:
‘I’m
sure you’ll be delighted to hear that membership of the SAS grows
apace and has now risen to the dizzy heights of “a few”. The
principal aim is ‘to provide a network of friendship, support
and professional “gossip”.’ After spreading the word about
various job-changes within publishing companies, Peter then goes into
a riff about sitting around “wondering why I never became an
architect. Actually I know the answer. Because it is
boring. At least as a writer you get bored on your own.’
So true.
Soon
afterwards, on 25th April 1998, Peter sent out his second letter,
saying:
‘Right,
this is it – the news that you have all been waiting for. I shall
try to break it gently so that those of you of a nervous disposition
won’t suffer palpitations, hot flushes or whatever. The SAS lunch
has been arranged.’ The
date would be Saturday 6th
June at The Waterside Cafe at the Barbican Arts Centre in London.
Celia Rees, and no doubt some others, remember ‘being
gutted because I couldn't go to the Barbican lunch.’
Peter
explains ‘It is
my desire to keep the SAS very informal so there is no set agenda for
the get-together. It’s an opportunity to meet and relax in the
company of friends and discuss all those things it’s so hard to
talk about with non-authors.’
He attached a list of 21 names as well so that people could contact
others in their own area: ’I
hesitate to call us members – I’m not sure what we are.’
An
aside: the newsletters bear a simple N-S-E-W compass design,
representing the scattered-ness of the authors. Peter recently said,
knowing that the badge of the real SAS was a winged dagger and the
words ‘Who Dares Wins’,
he had imagined the ‘Other SAS’ logo as a winged pen and the
words ‘Who Writes Wins.’
In
July 1998, Peter sends out a third letter, typed in a
very, very tiny font. He has moved from Liverpool to Devon and
reports ownership of a new computer. He remembers that, at that
inaugural Barbican meeting, “it was generally agreed we should
continue as we began, i.e. stumbling along in a genial fashion” and
that “the plan was probably to meet twice a year at
hopefully interesting venues.”
And
from then on Peter’s letters become true newsletters, although in
his slightly anarchic style, he gives each edition a totally
different title, as you’ll see below:
Beginning
with “BLUNT DAGGER” (August 1998)
Peter
has set this out in a newsletter column format: “Isn’t this
amazing? Pictures and everything?” He adds, referring to a
complaint, “the last one was at least cheap – it fitted on one
page. What’s a little eye strain compared with hard cash?”
and points out that “the only requirements for membership are
that you are to some degree professional and have a particular
interest in teenage fiction.” This was soon expanded to include
anyone who had written traditionally published children’s fiction.
There
will be no yearly fees or ID cards but “a few envelopes and
stamps would not go amiss.’
He gives out information about a proposed Stratford-on-Avon lunch on
10th
October ‘98, more news of editorial job changes followed by a long
‘whinge’ about the severe cutting in back-list titles by certain
publishers. ‘Styles and tastes can’t change that
fast can they?’
Another
writer offers to give advice about school visits, and the date of the
first SAS weekend get-together in Milton Keynes is announced. I
noticed this was planned for the 1999 Valentine’s Day weekend.
And
on to: “PAPER HAMSTER” (November 1998)
Peter’s
big announcement, in this on-paper letter, is that he has – wow! -
an email address now, adding ‘but don’t be surprised if
nothing happens. I can also send faxes – but only in the middle of
the night. (Would such new technologies catch on? Or really
make a difference to writer’s lives? Or the then-new Other SAS?)
The
Stratford on Avon lunch had been a success. Ten people attended ‘and
a good time was had by all. Admittedly things did get a little out of
hand, particularly during the fan dancing, but that’s always likely
to happen when there aren’t enough fans to go round and some people
who shall be nameless, refuse to share theirs.’ The event was,
Celia Rees later said, ‘like meeting an oasis of people in a
desert of editors, agents and publicity girls’.
Peter
reports that some people thought that SAS discussions needed to be
more organised at future meetings, especially as attendance was
growing. Also, that Milton Keynes weekend will now take place the
weekend after Valentines Day.
David
Belbin “has kindly offered to give us a run-down on
E-mail, the Internet and related matters.” Even though writers
were using word-processors, the online world was a barely known
thing.
The
newsletters remind me how people rushed to have a chance to talk
about their personal and shared experiences, away from the ears of
agents and publishers or from general writing groups where children’s
writing was usually thought a lesser form of authorship. Worth
noticing was the fact that anything said within the meetings was -
and still is - bound by confidentiality, giving the members an
unusual sense of freedom, ownership and group power.
In
Peter’s ‘Hamster’ newsletter, he reports that people
are suddenly talking about variations in fees for author visits to
schools and libraries and comparing practices. There had also been a
long and very warm discussion about the practices of various
publishers, leading to the general agreement that Publisher Z was
wonderful and Publisher Y was dire.
Celia
recalled
someone at Milton Keynes explaining
‘there was a new
website, called AMAZON’ but
the general view was that it wouldn’t last. Hmm.
In
what Peter has now named The Whinge Column,
someone wonders why authors are the last ones to receive any money
from a book. He suggests that a fairer system would be for authors
themselves to be paid the entire sum of money first, with the agents
invoicing the writer for their commission afterwards.“We
shouldn’t have to wait any length of time for our money. It’s
atrocious and wouldn’t happen in any other business We’re such
vulnerable people aren’t we? Frightened to offend anyone –
anxious to please. We’re the good guys and we get taken advantage
of.”
Malcolm
Rose, who lives nearby, has agreed to run the Milton Keynes weekend
again. Meanwhile, in December, Peter is moving house again.
Trotting
on to: “WALTZING DONKEYS” (June 1999)
Peter’s
next newsletter is a short one, mostly with news of a proposed
Nottingham lunch on Saturday 10th July and a reminder that
‘they are pretty informal affairs . . . with the emphasis on the
social side of things rather than hard-bitten. We usually finish by
setting fire to an effigy of a commissioning editor.’
Moods may not have softened. Autumn will bring a second lunch
in Sevenoaks; a Regional Directory has been compiled and sent out,
and people who have taken on onerous SAS duties might be given
titles.
Peter
also includes an account of Linda Newbery’s book-launch in a
Plymouth bookshop that morphs into a fantasy description of him
attending, wrapped in a hooded cloak and supposedly incognito,
muttering dark omens against gifted and successful authors. (Peter
recently recalled drinks in a pub afterwards with Linda, where she
sat serenely while a bottle fight broke out around her among a few
louder locals. Peter himself felt less calm.) The newsletter ends
rather abruptly, thanking all those who had sent in their £10.00
subs.
On
to: “OVALTINE MONTHLY” (August 1999)
‘Yeah,
summer hey? Bit up and down. Bit like my writing career.’
Peter writes. There’s
news of a very successful lunch in Nottingham, another mention of
October’s forthcoming lunch in Sevenoaks, and a reminded about
confirming attendance etc. ‘As ever, a certain
responsibility and measure of worry falls on the shoulders of those
responsible for the organisation. It’s therefore essential that we
help them as much as possible.’
Activities within the Other SAS have always been based on the
initiative of individual members or small groups of friends.
Meanwhile,
over this summer,”The Prisoner of Azkaban” was published,
bringing press articles about long queues outside bookshops on the
eve of publication. Peter, along with quite a few others, are
unimpressed by the huge promotion of this one series and the apparent
neglect of every other other book or author. Surely such extreme
publicity practices will fade away in the future? Surely no other
authors will become celebrities? Or even celebrities become . . .?
Jokingly,
in 1999, Peter suggests that ‘Harry Potter is storing up
a great deal of vitriol. I was slightly concerned that some of you
may have been tempted to display a little “generosity of spirit”
. . .We can’t afford to show mercy. There will be an enormous
backlash against him, mark my words. And when there is, we’ll step
in and fill the void. Assuming we haven’t all starved to death
first.’
The
newsletter ends with an author offering to give interested people the
name of a man who has just designed a
website page for him. Why,
as a writer, would you ever want or need one of those things? All
that extra bother . . .
On
we go to: BURPING BABIES (October 1999)
‘So,
how are you all keeping? Did we have a good summer?’
Peter asks, replying
‘Of course not, we’re authors, we don’t have time to be happy.
If we were happy, we’d be shop assistants.’
This
edition has the details of an SAS lunch, organised for Saturday 30th
October at Cafe Uno in Sevenoaks, Kent. The Member Advice
section has a still recognisable question for members about
pre-Powerpoint school visits: “What’s
the best way to show things like notebooks, proofs, manuscripts to a
class of 30+? “ along
with the pained and pointed observation “that
everyone gets so much more out of the visit when the teacher and at
least some of the children have read the book you’re talking
about.” An old
issue that certainly causes no problems at all now, I’m sure?
Anne
Cassidy says that, with a new novel coming out, she started “making
A5 flyers herself and the publisher’s publicity people being so
impressed they asked if they could have samples to copy and hand out.
This kind of thing feels like it’s the wrong way round.” A
great suggestion and a rather wise thought.
And
finally, here comes Peter’s last newsletter:
UP
YOUR JUMPER (November 1999)
“Well,
blimey, doesn’t the year go fast? Seems like only yesterday I was
prancing around welcoming in the spring with one of my original and
grotesque ritual dances, And now I’m all wrapped up against the
weather . . . and I’ve just had a cold . . . Enough of that. What
can we talk about this time?” Peter
gives a brief write-up of the Sevenoaks lunch. “Anyway,
it was as friendly as ever, but did I detect an underlying glumness
or confusion? Does anyone know what’s going on in the world of
children’s publishing at the moment?” And
by way of reply, he encourages everyone to come to the next SAS event
which will be the weekend conference at Milton Keynes.
This
will take place the following year, in February 2000 and
the new Millennium. Peter says that the conference is being organised
by Anne Cassidy and Malcolm Rose and reminds everyone to come as it
will be useful and that ‘It is also a “treat”,
a rare thing in the world of writing. And I promise you, you will
enjoy it.’
He
ends his last letter to the SAS: ‘As ever - write hard
and have fun – and keep in touch. See you whenever and best
wishes.’ After struggling
along, trying to make a living, Peter fades away. He, writing and
publishing have had enough of each other for quite a while.
Last
among the papers are two
final documents: the first
is a letter from Malcolm
Rose, giving details of
the Millennium Conference.
‘I didn’t realise that the town of concrete cows
was such a magnet” he
adds. It was a very good and well attended weekend,
The
second document mixes two technologies: it is a printed
paper copy of an
email sent
out by author Adele Geras.
She has booked the
Golden Rice restaurant in Manchester for
a lunch in June.
Yes, the
SAS has reached “the North” at last!
The year was 2000
and the Scattered Authors Society had definitely Become.
And now I can put the papers back in their box.
Afterthoughts
Oh yes, this was a long time ago. Some ‘SAS’ members would not have been in primary school for
these dates. Some might not even be “here”.
Nevertheless, as I read
through these newsletters, it seemed to me that the SAS came about
because no established UK organisations seemed to care about ordinary
children’s writers. They cared about books and literature and libraries and so on but they did not care so much about all the writers who did the work. But the writers could care about each other.
Since
those years, the SAS has grown as a group. Currently around four hundred published writers are signed up as members. Over the years,
many volunteers have run more SAS weekend conferences, set up summer
and winter writer’s retreats, created other blogs (inspired by this original one:
‘ABBA’) along with things like SAS zoom meetings, a Facebook page
and the SAS website. Seems that website idea was useful after all
. . .
However - and often frustratingly now - the early SAS had no wish for a formalised structure, hierarchy of
officers, fixed committee meetings and so on. I suspect this was because many of these writers still had to fight for their own writing time
and space among other commitments. They knew from work and from other
organisations about the time lost to endless meetings. They were unwilling to lose theirs – and If the SAS
could work without such structures, why not go for it?
So, even now,
the SAS remains a group of individuals acting as a useful network, organising ways of sharing knowledge, friendship and support, both
locally, regionally or more widely, and somehow surviving, despite grumbles and because of people's generosity.
Even today, the 1st
of April 2023 - another All Fools Day - I note that the worries in these
old newsletters still exist in one form or another, still cause heartache. Writing can be a lonely
task if you have no tribe to talk to, especially away from the buzz of literary cities. Not everyone can afford publishers workshops, masterclasses or the networks within longer courses - nor the travel involved. Probably, The Scattered Author’s
Society, for all its informality, is still a needed thing.
Celia
Rees recently
summed it up for me: ‘Don't think any of us
thought it would last this long but there was such a common and
deeply felt need that I knew it wouldn't just fizzle out. I'm so
grateful to Peter, especially for that original letter in 'The
Author' and his Newsletters and to Malcolm & Anne for organising
the Milton Keynes weekends where, I think, the SAS really gelled.
Friends I made then are friends now. In fact, all my best friends in
writing I made through the SAS and they are some of the best friends
I have.’
If
you are still here, thank
you for reading through today’s post - and now, I’ll
close as Peter Beere did in those
old SAS newsletters: ‘Write
hard, have fun, and keep in touch.’
Wishing
you all, foolish or wise or often between, a
most happy April!
Penny
Dolan
@pennydolan1
PETER
BEERE’S ‘DARKLAND’, his
third adult dystopian thriller, takes Beekay
Howard and his crew of misfits voyaging to a place where
everything might go right – or go wrong.
ANNE
CASSIDY’S contemporary novels - ‘NO
VIRGIN’ and ‘NO SHAME’ - deals
with prejudice and strong social issues.
MALCOLM
ROSE’s latest book is ‘CHASING THE RAPTURE’,
a YA thriller about about a future Olympian runner who secretly does
a lot mare tan running,
CELIA
REES has written
‘MISS GRAHAM’S COLD WAR COOKBOOK’,
a historical spy novel about an Englishwoman assisting
German resettlement after WW2.
LINDA
NEWBERY’s newest book
is ‘THIS BOOK IS CRUELTY FREE; Animals and Us,’
a non-fiction title about animal welfare.
ADELE
GERAS latest 18Cl novel,
writing as HOPE ADAMS,
is DANGEROUS WOMEN,
involves murder among women prisoners transported to Tasmania.
Thanks
to all who helped sort out details for this post, and thanks
to everyone involved in setting up the SAS way back then and
to all those busy looking after the ‘Other SAS’
right now.
