A Week in Writing

Hi Guys,

They say a week is a long time in politics. I think it may be even longer in writing!

Last week and a bit ago, several things happened almost simultaneously. First I sent a copy of my latest book - "The Dotard" off down to the editor, relieved that the first draft was finally done and thinking to myself - nothing can go wrong. Oh what a foolish thought!

Days later the North Korean's called the US President a dotard, and I was left shocked and floundering. Wondering, why do they suddenly use this archaic term right bloody then! And also wondering do I now have to change the title of the book now that I've gone to all the trouble of getting a cover done etc?

The problem is that some people seeing the book cover will connect the two things, and immediately either assume that I'm making some sort of political statement - which I am absolutely not - or else that I'm simply cashing in on the sudden notoriety of the word by copying North Korea - save that as far as I can tell they're copying me! Good to know I have readers there though! On the other hand - it was such a brilliant title for the book and I've already gone and got the cover done. I don't want to change it.

What a miserable couple of days that was! You just wouldn't read about it! (Except of course if you read the book when it comes out!)

Then just when I thought things couldn't get any worse my computer crashed. Actually the hard drive had a complete break down with all data lost. Thankfully it was only my desktop, so I lost no writing. I normally write on my laptop and back up regularly to burner discs. The desktop is purely for connecting to the net. That was the good news. The bad was that I did have one file on my desktop that I absolutely needed - the one with all my logins and passwords! The one I never backed up!

So after a week with no online presence, I'm now in the process of trying to resurrect all my logins and passwords - with limited success. Most of the time I had the computer remember my passwords and addresses for me which was extremely convenient - until now! At this stage I'd guess I can access probably half of the fora I used to, which means if you're looking for me under my alternate persona, don't be surprised if I'm not there.

Emails have of course also died, which means I've lost loads of names, contacts and reference material. And some of my contacts will shortly be receiving emails starting off "you remember that you sent me ...? Can you send it again!" And of course many of my online contacts like cover artists I won't be able to contact at all.

The moral of the story is of course - back up everything. Not just the data files on your laptop!

Anyway that's been my week. At this stage I've decided to leave the book as it is (as you can see above). Hopefully the North Koreans will find some other language to use and people will forget the word. And dotard really is a brilliantly old fashioned word that perfectly encapsulates the book.

So that's been my week or so. One out of the box really. All I can really say is that I hope people can learn from my mistakes. And that the title of the book like the book itself, has absolutely nothing to do with US politics.

Cheers, Greg.

Greg's Pustulating Necrosis of the Gut!

Hi guys,

 

 

 

Bit of an odd post this time. A few days ago I ate something that disagreed with me – (no, it wasn't a critic!) – and ever since then have been living in a land of pain and toilets that no amount of imodium and erythromycin can seem to hold. And then the night before last, just as I was thinking things were finally on the mend, they instead took a sudden about turn and I became convinced somewhere in the early hours of the morning that death wasn't such a bad thing. Dying is of course a different matter! Naturally I'd feel sorrow for those I left behind. For my family. For my cat who'd have to find someone else to look down upon with disdain – though to be fair she's a cat and so has the entire world to look down upon! For the coroner who might have to wear multiple gas masks to do his work and then still be decontaminated! But really as the clock struck three in the morning and the porcelain was begging for mercy, it still didn't seem so bad.

Somewhere after that though, a strange thought took hold of me – the understanding that whatever I was suffering from couldn't be natural. It had to be new and improved. A whole new class of diarrhoea. Something that would make the medical texts. I could have a brand new disease named after me!

But then I realised there are diseases and then there are diseases. I mean who wouldn't want some cool disease named after them? Greg's Lycanthroposis for example would be quite cool. Not a bad way to be remembered. Or some sort of hyper mania perhaps. Greg died while trying to hurl a bus at police and was later found to have over four hundred bullets in him! Greg's Hyper Rage! Now that would be undeniably cool! By contrast I can only imagine that Gerhard Hansen was infinitely glad that Hansen's Disease was never popularly known by that name but rather simply as leprosy. Still even against that infamous horror Greg's Pustulating Necrosis of the Gut would be a far less welcome memoriam. And when the symptoms of GPNG are listed as the sufferer's choice of death either by his insides suddenly deciding they wanted to become his outsides or alternatively asphyxiating on his own flatulence, I can't imagine anyone ever wanting to be associated with the condition. Least of all me.

Writing I think, has a little in common with this. (There! You see? You knew there would be some return to my more normal topics at some point since no one could talk about diarrhoea forever! Not even me!)

My point is that as authors we write books that people read, and will hopefully enjoy and remember. And in a very real way some of these books may in fact become a memoriam to us. More so now in this digital age where nothing is lost unlike paper books which have vanished over the previous years and centuries.

Which leads me to the rationale behind this post. (Yes there is one!) We all talk about the need for quality in our work. For making sure that whatever we put out there is the best that we can do. That it's beta read and edited to death. And that certainly is important to us as authors; indie and trade, living and dead. But before anyone pushes that publish button it occurs to me that there's another question that we need to ask ourselves. Is this a work that I want to be forever associated with me? In five years, ten years, twenty am I still going to be proud to have published this work? Or am I going to be living down the shame of having put it out there? Is this going to be a work that will forever shine a glorious light upon me? Or will it be like those nude pictures you took as an overweight teenager which eternally follow you around from job interview to job interview? It needs to be considered.

Sure I may hate (insert name of political movement or religion here) now, but in a decade am I going to want to be remembered as the man who wrote the book accusing them of promoting indecent acts? I may despise (insert persons name here) but in twenty years time am I going to want to be known as the man who in public accused them of various crimes? Especially if they're later shown to be innocent? Yes I may support certain political ideologies but in twenty years when movements based on my writings have caused immeasurable harm to the world, will I want to be associated with them? Even recognised as their inspiration?

You think I'm joking? Perhaps driven mad by the long nights spent curled up on a toilet seat, gassing myself in the smallest room in the house? Sadly actually I'm not. Many authors have ended up regretting their works and trying to have them pulled from the shelves and for all sorts of reasons.

The list starts with Stephen King who in 1997 tried to get his 1977 book Rage pulled when a copy of it was found in the locker of a boy who went on a shooting spree in a school. His fear was that the book inspired the act.

At the more minor end of the spectrum Octavia Butler tried to have Survivor pulled for a completely different reason. Though it was well written, edited and professional and indeed readers loved the book, to her it was clichéd and trope ridden.

And of course you would have to wonder how Nietzsche would have felt had he lived to see the rise of the Nazi's. He had a vision of his ubermen as modern equivalents of ancient Greek gods striding across the world. To see instead the reality of death camps, genocide, unbridled ambition and a world in flames all inspired by his work would probably have had him spinning in his grave.

Which brings me back to my point. We live in a digital age. Whatever we publish will be with us potentially forever – or at least for the rest of our lives. And once you push that button there's no way to unpush it. So take a moment. Give it a little thought. Have a cuppa or two before doing what you can't undo. And ask yourself that vital question:

Is this going to be your hyper rage? Or your pustulating necrosis of the gut?

 

Cheers, Greg.

Pleasure and Pain - Publishing

Hi Guys,

As you'll have noticed I've returned to my old ways and not put out a blog for a while. But this time I think you'll agree the wait was worth it since I just published Wildling - my first new traditional fantasy novel in a while. I'm really pleased with it by the way, and with the cover. But that's probably the same with every author and their latest book.

I did think I'd share with you a little of what it's like to publish a book for me. It may be of particular interest to those of you thinking of taking that plunge.

The first thing I'd say is that - Yes - while publishing is I think an essential part of a writer's life and we should all strive for that goal, it is a heady journey. There are highs and lows along the way.

For me publishing begins with the end of the first draft. Up until then I've been writing, tapping away on my keyboard, but for me and me alone. The books I write until that stage are the books I want to write and to read. Even though there's a lot of editing during that process, there is never any real consideration of what other people might think of them. But publishing is when that all changes.

It all begins when I finish the first draft, take a deep breath, and send the completed draft to my editor - who happens to be my wonderful baby sister Lucy. That's a big step for me. For two reasons. The first is that in taking it I have committed myself to the publishing process - a brand new change in focus. And the second is that like all authors I suspect, my work is my baby. So handing it over to someone else to paw through, comment on and criticise is a very hard thing.

After that comes the waiting. That's hard. Not just because my sister is very thorough and detailed and therefore slow, but because for all that time I'm sitting there waiting for the report. It's like waiting for your exam results. And during this time I find it hard to think about anything else. I barely write at all.

Then comes the return and the piles and piles of red pixels. At once I feel incredible relief to have my book back, and shock and horror at seeing how many mistakes she's found. And a lot of them are mistakes. It's a sad thing to have to admit, but I'm not perfect and neither is my work. It's not the typos and the grammatical errors that trouble me so much - I could never spell so I can live with them. It's the issues with language and plot that cause me consternation. These are the story telling part of the work, and the parts that I do think I do well.

From there the process is methodical and sadly more pain than pleasure. It's about going through the edited draft bit by bit, and seeing what she's found and then arguing with myself about whether they are fair. But of course by then I am committed to the publishing process, so I will work all the hours that I can, sometimes falling asleep in front of the computer, to get things in order.

All the way through as the writer I am torn with doubt. Asking myself the same questions I'm sure every author has at this stage. Is she right? Was there not sufficient narrative before to explain this event? Let the reader understand? Is it really right that I can't use the English language this particular way when it sounds so right in my head? Is this truly my "voice" that she's striking out or just bad English?

Editing for all of you intending to go through the process, is a difficult process. A lengthy conversation between you and your editor that will test you. And the most difficult part - that you have to go through it several times for each book. So my first redraft after the editing, goes back to my sister and then returns in due course for a second run etc.

Eventually - and though it probably only takes a month or so all up - it will come to an end. And at that point a switch is flipped on for me at least. The text is done, now it's about publishing. But that involves more work. There is of course the format edit, setting the text out so that it looks good on a page, chucking in things like chapter numbers and a front end - title, dedication etc. The cover -though usually I will have created that long before - needs to be completed. And then worst of all for me - the blurb. I don't know why but those one to two hundred words are the most difficult to write.

All up here I'm talking three or four days without sleep and most of my supply of coffee and diet coke. But the switch has been turned on and it becomes an all out rush. It has to be done.

And then finally there's the battle with Amazon - which never goes smoothly - not for me. I have never once managed to upload and publish a book within the promised hour. Admittedly I'm on dial up which slows things down. But still sometimes it's days as things fall over, the computer won't upload etc etc. (This time however it was incredibly quick though there were still hiccups. And Amazon a huge thank you to you and the Kindle team for putting those changes in to require automatic saves throughout the process. The number of times before this that I've lost everything and had to start again from scratch is beyond belief.)

Then comes the publish button. The moment where I push it and can finally go to bed.

You'd think this would be a victory - a triumph of sometimes seemingly biblical proportions. And it is. But it's also a moment when everything ends and for me, a huge sadness. The book is finished, my baby has left the nest, an as well as exhausted and relieved there is something incredibly difficult about that moment. So difficult that after having done it I actually feel as though I never want to see that book again. It's over, finished, gone.

Maybe that's just me. But for me the easiest thing to do then is start something new. The hardest thing to do is go back into what's done.

Anyway that's my publishing process. I expect you will all have your own experiences of it.

Cheers, Greg.