I would swim more rivers

Last time I came to Ty Newydd two years ago, I packed my swimsuit but never swam. This time I promised myself I would, even though it is April this time and not June. I was going to do it yesterday when the sun was scorching but I got absorbed in my writing and vowed to swim today. And today it was grey and rainy. But I knew I couldn't live with myself if I didn't go. So I did. I swam in the sea on the North Welsh coast in April in the rain and it was glorious, freezing, but glorious.

As a writer to say that something takes your breath away is a cliche and really, how often does that happen? But, diving into the sea in April really will snatch your breath and invigorate your senses and free your mind. I'm going to do it more often :)

I have had a wonderful week here on the NAWE and Lapidus retreat. I always do. I have sent off one novel and started another, written loads of poems and chatted with fascinating women (apologies to the men but they just weren't so cool). And, just now, I found this stone on my windowsill.

We did one writing exercise about why we write and the piece I wrote seemed to resonate with the women here. So I'll share it with you and maybe it will mean something to someone else. And it features those daisies again.

Why do I write?

I write because what else is there but the flow of ink on paper?

Because, sitting here with this pen in my hand,

hearing the pens of neighbours pouring forth, I feel at home.

I feel whole. I feel this is where I belong.

And sometimes, all of life feels a distraction from this motion

of pen on paper, of fingers on keyboard.

I write to give voice to the secrets of my heart,

to be voluble and free like a babbling brook flowing

out into the endless ocean.

I write to heal, to hear, to be understood.

Maybe I write to be loved.

I write to explore, to travel, to wander and wonder

into the places that others can't reach,

that others fear to go.

I write to jump naked into the abysss, knowing that words

will catch me.

You say my life has been interesting,

Yes, I say, but not happy.

I follow the interest and it leads me to places a wiser person would not go.

But it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Better to say it, do it, live it, than regret it.

Better to pick daisies while we still can.

And maybe happiness is not something to strive for.

Maybe interesting is enough. 

Maybe life provides the spark, the food, the material.

And writing is my joy.

I would pick more daisies

At the moment I'm on a writing retreat at Ty  Newydd in Wales. It is the most beautiful day and I have been for a walk by the sea. On the way back, I spotted a dandelion clock. It made me think of my children and how they would squeal and fight over it. I walked on past. And then something made me remember this poem. And I went back to pick it. And I blew the seeds into the air like fairies. And felt better for it.

So, I thought I'd start blogging again and I thought I'd start by sharing this lovely sentiment.

If I had my life to live over,
I'd try to  make more mistakes next time.
I would relax.
I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been on this trip.
I know of very few things I would take seriously.
I would be crazier.
I would be less hygienic.
I would take more chances.
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers and watch more sunsets.
I would burn more gasoline.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would have more actual troubles and less imaginary ones.
You see, I am one of those people who lives prophylactically and sensibly and sanely
hour after hour, day after day.
Oh, I've had my moments and if I had it to do over,
I'd have more of them.
In fact, I'd try to have nothing else.
Just moments, one after the other,
instead of living so many years ahead each day.
I have been one of those people who never goes anywhere
without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat and a parachute.
If I had to do it over again, I would go to places
and do things and travel lighter than I have.
If I had my life to live over,
I would start bare-footed earlier in the spring
and stay that way later in the fall.
I would play hookey more.
I wouldn't make such good grades except by accident.
I would ride on merry-go-rounds.
I'd pick more daisies.

Nadine Stair, 85, Louiseville, Kentucky    

Back to school

It's that time of year again. Autumn leaves crunching underfoot, nights drawing in. Everyone's back from their holidays and back to school or work.

For me the break has been longer than most. Partly because we've only just returned from a fantastic jaunt to sunny Spain and partly because my baby boy has recently turned one and, finally, after a nightmare year, we have his health problems mostly under control. My last blog post hoped for a baby who slept from six weeks old; no such luck! Instead Douglas has a rare condition known as Eosinophilic Gastro Intestinal Disorder which basically means he's allergic to just about everything (including breast milk!) and which has kept him up for most of the night screaming with pain for much of his little life. Thankfully now that he's on a ridiculously restricted diet of butternut squash and potato along with some helpful medication he's a happy boy and I can get back to work.

But then there's the question, how to start? The world of Tag and Lorna seems a long way away now. The worlds of young people, agents, publishers and literature professionals even further away. I've spent more time in hospitals than libraries over the past year and the only books I've read have been about food allergies. To add to the feeling of dislocation, the landscape in the arts has changed in fairly major ways, leaving me wondering (along with much of the British population) whether I'll ever work again and slightly worried about the state of my finances. So, I guess I just need to begin putting one word after the last and see where it leads me.

This is me committing to that process again in some small way. Wish me luck!

When life gets in the way.....

I had it all planned. I was going to re-write my novel, polish every word and have it safely deposited with agents and publishers in September. And then I got pregnant and my mum (and main source of childcare) was diagnosed with a particularly nasty cancer and it all became a bit harder than I'd expected. Morning sickness plus the demands of a toddler who hit the terrible twos have taken their toll so it's all been delayed somewhat. Now I'm finally have to concede that trying to write another 15,000 words in a week whilst ticking off everything on my 'baby - to do' list is not realistic, so I'm allowing myself to rearrange cupboards and clean skirting boards in true nesting fashion. Who knows, I might even allow myself a little afternoon snooze.

I'll be back to the book and the blog once the new baby is settled and I've got over the horror the of being up all night again. Hopefully I'll have of those angels that sleeps through the night at six weeks and I'll have the book finished by Christmas.....but maybe not.

Thanks for reading.

Beverley

New chapters available on my website

I've been meaning to post the latest version of my opening chapters for a while and I've finally mastered the technology to post them on my website (or at least, I've finally got round to getting Tim to do it.) You can find them at http://www.beverleyward.net/page4/page4.html They are also on www.groupthing.org under the group called Writer in Residence.

There have been some changes since the last time I posted them. I decided that Tag's opening chapter didn't make a strong enough opening and that there needed to be a clearer link between the two characters from the outset in order to get the reader interested. Hopefully by beginning with Lorna's character and voice and establishing her intention of volunteering at the literacy project, it sets the reader up to know how the two characters will meet, thus making them interested in reading on. That's the hope anyway! I've also done some work on the voices of the two main protagonists, although I still think I'll need to go back and work on these early chapters again, as the voices have become more convincing as I've gone on.

I was hoping to have a polished draft of the novel done by September but, because I've essentially done a total rewrite, and not a redraft as I expected, when it's finished it will still be a rough draft. I may send the early chapters (once I've polished them) to agents and publishers in September though while I work on the redraft. If I do, the chapters on the website are what I would send: usually they ask for 3 chapters (double-spaced, printed on one side of A4) and a synopsis which should be as close to one page as possible.

I've written a few books but this is the first one I've rewritten and redrafted over and over. I don't think I'd quite appreciated before just how much work goes into getting something to publishable quality.

How important is realism?

Just back from a lovely holiday and returned to my reality with a bump. I went to visit Roundabout (the young people's homeless hostel where some of my book is set) and grilled one of the workers there about how things have changed since the time when I worked there. Fundamentally, sadly, homelessness affects people in just the same way now as it did ten years ago; however there were a few changes. One of the most interesting things that I learned is that they see much less heroin addiction these days and many more problems with the stronger versions of cannabis - including psychosis and mental health issues.

This has thrown me into turmoil slightly because Tag's heroin addiction is a fairly central aspect of the book. It makes me wonder if my book is less topical and less realistic as a result. Some of the things that happen in my story are certainly still plausible but they're not necessarily typical and it's got me questioning (again!) how important realism is and wondering why I've chosen to write such a difficult book in which accuracy feels important. Having worked with so many young people who have experienced homelessness and addiction, I feel quite a responsibility to tell their stories with sensitivity and truth, yet their experiences are very far removed from the life I've lived.

Sometimes when I've started going into detailed explanations of the benefit system or dealing with literacy issues, I've have feedback that it can sound a bit preachy and I can find myself moving away from telling the story but, on the other hand, readers need to understand the 'why' and 'how' of things in order to buy into the story and anything that's unrealistic will make them lose their faith in the narrative and the characters.

Basically it's made me realise that, even once I've got to the end of telling the story, I might need to do even more research to check for accuracy. Next time I think I'll write a fantasy book where I can invent the world in which my characters live.

Voice

I'm on retreat at the moment in Ty Newydd, North Wales, an amazing location. I'm sitting in the library at the moment and looking out through the bay window at a view of trees, sea and mountains. It's so beautiful that I had wondered if I'd get any writing done but actually it's been just the inspiration I needed.

Having taken part in an unrelated workshop on the first morning, I sat down and Tag just started to talking to me in exactly the voice I've been looking for. So weird how that happens and so difficult to explain. I'm just so grateful to this place for the breakthrough I've been looking for. Since the voices started to sound right, I've now gone back to the beginning re-writing (again!) and I'm almost on course to reach my 30,000 word mark by the end of today when I'll be heading home to see my beautiful daughter (and Tim, of course, and the dog....etc)

One of my writing friends asked me the other day about what attracted my two characters to each other and I've been working on that connection between them quite a lot over this week. Gradually music is emerging as one of themes of the book. I found them mentioning Massive Attack in a conversation they were having and suddenly realised that 'Protection' is the perfect soundtrack to the book. I'm now wondering whether to use the lyrics in the book - possibly even as a title - but I'm not sure how I'd go about obtaining copyright. I've just found Tracy Thorn on Facebook so I've asked her but I'm not sure whether she'll respond! It's an amazing age when, with the click of a button, you can just get in touch with one of your favourite artists of all time though!

In upcoming workshops I'm thinking about asking young people about their musical interests. Since having a baby, I feel so out of touch with current artists. Do most teenagers know the song 'Protection' I wonder. If not, here it is. It's fab!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Epgo8ixX6Wo