Authors Electric

I recently started writing short stories for the Reedsy Prompts weekly contest . This is a fantastic competition for kickstarting your writing if/when you feel blocked. The prompts are always thought-provoking with great scope for exploration. The best part is that you get to read the other stories submitted to the contest once the winners are announced. Exploring hundreds of different ways to interpret the same prompt is a wonderful testament to human creativity, as well as reassurance that AI is not going to steal all of our jobs just yet.  In all my years of entering writing competitions, I’ve never won a single thing. I don’t take it to heart. It’s a writer-eat-writer world out there (I’m kidding—I love learning from other writers. I’m also a vegetarian and not a cannibal). But in all seriousness, I enter these contests not with a hope of victory, but with the knowledge that it’s a great way to improve my craft.  Well, dear reader, guess what? The very first story I entere...

This month, alongside doing a developmental edit for an extremely cool bit of speculative fiction, and outlining a novel of my own, I am working as an examiner for the International Baccalaureate. I have been given 60 Extended Essays to work my way through and to mark as I see fit. It’s surprisingly enjoyable.  The Extended Essay is one of my favourite elements of the IB programme. Students can choose any subject and any topic, then they need to write 4000 analytical words putting forward a line of argument. It’s like a mini dissertation, only the students in question are 17, and they are also studying six other subjects (the IB is hardcore).  Essential accompaniments to essay marking For the students who choose English, the possibilities are endless. So far, I’ve marked essays on classic works of literature ranging from Oscar Wilde to Homer, from Shakespeare to Virginia Woolf. I’ve read about magazine advertising through the years and a whole range of political speeches as we...

What did you do while you were in lockdown?  I listened to a lot of audiobooks, I went for a walk every day, and I played board games with my boyfriend. We ate and drank too much. I tried and failed to master French. My boyfriend made model aeroplanes. And I wrote my first novel.  I’m sure I’m not the only one who wrote a novel during the pandemic. In fact, I know I’m not. It was an explosive time for creativity, as we all stared into the void and wondered what was coming next. For me, my self-employed, pre-child life, and the requirement to stay home all the time, plus the fact that I had just moved to a new country and didn’t have any friends yet, made the writing process nice and easy.  Proudly wearing my Winner t-shirt. Everyone who completes it wins! I did NaNoWriMo and I took it seriously. I knew that if I missed one day I would be toast, so I got up at 7am throughout November and wrote my words, then quite often got back into bed. I planned the first 25,000 words ...

wikimedia: Anton Lefterov In the last days of my pregnancy, a fog descended over my brain and working on my novel became impossible. 17 days before my son was born, I wrote in my diary: Extensive editing is going to have to wait. I think I can give it one hour a day during maternity leave, once I’ve figured out the whole motherhood deal. Reading these words ten months later, I want to throw back my head and laugh, then punch Past-Me in the face. The cliché is that nothing can prepare you for the reality of having a baby. Guess what? Clichés exist for a reason. There is no way to get ready for the sheer overwhelm of love that physically hurts, a body that has changed beyond all recognition, the euphoria and responsibility of making new life, and exploding nappies. And for me, someone who has always turned to words in times of chaos, what I was not prepared for was the fact that, suddenly, I was unable to write.  My days were now filled with caring for my son. Together, we figured o...