Authors Electric

    When I started my MA in creative writing, I was asked who I wanted to write like. I was immediately indignant – I didn’t want to write like anyone else, I wanted to write like me. Then the question was rephrased – if you wanted to write like a piece of music, what would you choose? There were a number of different responses from the rest of the group. Smoky basement jazz, a clarinet maybe, or a trombone or a saxophone. Someone else wanted a piece by Corelli, there was Ravel’s Bolero and Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries. I chose Danse Macabre, by Saint Saens, long before it was popularised by Jonathan Creek. This quickly established me as someone who went for something a bit different, due to the necessity to retune the E string on the violin to E flat, which gives the whole piece its unique flavour. So the lines I wish I’d written are always a bit off-beat, and I am still in awe of the lateral thinking that creates them.         ...

I've always hated CEOs, those brutal, heartless bastards, and would have laughed if anyone had told me I'd become one. Me, the bohemian who'd pursued the next big adventure in life and love and art? Me, the defiant one who'd never met  a convention he didn't want to beat? You can imagine my shock when I found myself forced to become, yes, a CEO to save the WIP I'd worked on for six years.  May I explain? Thank you. Lean in and try to imagine... The finale of my WIP is set in Tombstone, Arizona. For plot reasons, I needed one character to spend a single night in a particular spot on a major street. The more historical the setting, the better. I'd read several books and searched online, even bought a large detailed map of the quarter. Finally, I found the one and only hotel for my guy. The room photos I'd seen were as perfect as the hotel's history and location. And yet I faced a problem I saw no way around.  To wit: the hotel had only three suites, on...

  I’ve written the book. I’ve had it edited. I’ve proof read it over and over again and I’ve made use of the Word programme that reads your work aloud word by plodding word. In our house this is known as the boring voice due to the unending monotone which can make any piece, however interesting or exciting, sound totally and utterly deadly. It is so dire that I can only listen for twenty minutes maximum at any one time, otherwise I lose concentration and fail to pick up all the missing words and typos that it highlights. Having completed all this, I’ve formatted the e-book and uploaded it onto Kindle. All that remains to do is to upload the cover and I’m good to go. At this point I have ground to a complete and utter halt. It’s not as if I haven’t already designed the cover for “New Beginnings at Rosa’s.” I did this before I started preparing the e-book, but then the doubts crept in. The problem with covers, as I see it, is that they are all generic. Women’s fiction have a ...

Old Scratch Press (OSP), a poetry and short-form collective that I started in 2022, is seeking two new members to join us starting at the end of 2025. I began the press because authors who I had published in  Instant Noodles Lit Mag  asked me to publish a book of poetry for them. But, as a small indie publisher without a university backing me, it was a big ask to publish one-author-only books of poetry, because books of poetry typically do not sell in a press-sustaining way. I run my various publishing things with my long-suffering husband Dave , and we looked at what the major costs of producing a book are, beyond our time. We decided that, to do it, we'd pay some costs, and some of the labor that had costs associated with it beyond our personal time we could avoid if a group would come together and take on the labor. Basically I went to all the authors I'd worked with in anthologies or the lit mag, and asked them, "If you could trade a little labor for a published book,...

Margery Allingham on Mersea Island Very few people these days have read Margery Allingham’s first novel, Blackkerchief Dick , published in 1923 when she was aged 19. They are probably wise, though for the uber-Allingham nerd, there are definitely points of interest. But for anybody who writes fiction, its genesis is surely fascinating. The plot and characters for this first novel were, apparently, ‘given’ via a series of eight séances, initially undertaken by the Allingham family as a summer holiday pastime on Mersea Island in August 1921. From the first moment that I read through the slightly tired looking leaves of paper with transcription in capital letters and blunt pencil, that survive in Margery’s archive, I’ve felt convinced that here lies treasure for the literary psychologist.   The word séance probably makes this sound more occult than was intended. At its most basic level ‘playing the glass’ is a game.   A wineglass or tumbler is placed on a table and encircled ...

  It’s been a busy few days. Last week we visited a couple of castles, Linlithgow Palace first, most famous for its connection to Mary, Queen of Scots. My wife has had a fascination with Mary for as long as I’ve known her and the castle has been closed for the past few years for renovation work, so it was good to finally get there and soak up the atmosphere. As an aside, we also popped into the church that sits alongside, both for the stunning architecture and stained glass windows, and, for myself, to have a close look at the pipe organ they have – I’ve heard it in recordings of Bach and Widor, so it was good to see it in the flesh. Thursday was another train ride, over the Forth Rail Bride, to Aberdour, and have a look around the castle and gardens. This one will be familiar to anyone who’s watched Outlander, as it features as the Benedictine Monastery in the first series. One of the parts that really got me was the room with the painted ceiling. Yes, it’s faint, and...