Scottish Book Trust Residencies & Opportunities seminar

 

Last week, I was lucky enough to attend the Scottish BookTrust: Residencies & Opportunities seminar in Edinburgh, having spotted it on the Creative Scotland Opportunities section.

Maybe I'm the only person in the world to have thought this... *embarrassing admission ahead* but I assumed the purpose of a writing residency was for the writer to go to a specific place to immerse themselves in that environment; to absorb their surroundings, then pour said findings into their art.

My personal fantasy had me take a residency in the attic of some glorious sea view hotel, where I would wander the scenic town, luxurious corridors and staff areas by day, then scribble by night. I used to be a chambermaid, you see, and there's definitely a book of hotel-based scandal somewhere in me.

I digress. Contrary to my preconceived notions, residencies do not exist as "setting" research for your creative endeavours. Not exclusively, anyway. The panel of speakers at the seminar had taken up residencies in a mens prison, a PR company, a bank, and a sick kids hospital. They weren't there to observe people and take notes. They were there to engage other people. And that is the whole point.

Elspeth Murray was once Writer in Residence at Scottish Widows, where she would hand out "Curious Questions of the Week" cards to employees on their way in to the office, as she wasn’t afforded more than a snippet of their time. What was heartening was that more and more of these employees started filing in the cards. That miniscule gesture made them stop and consider their day, nay, their life, when otherwise they might have simply succumbed to the humdrum.

In my opinion, everyone needs to express themselves. It’s integral to being alive. Properly alive, that is; not just existing. If you don’t express yourself in some way or another you'll fade away.

Gowan Calder spoke of her time as Writer in Residence at a medium-high risk mens prison. I thought to myself 'you've got to have some balls to do that!'. An actress among other things, Gowan was charming and flamboyant as she discussed the work she did with the prisoners, and I could just imagine them all warming to her energy. Full of fun, she told us how they turned the air blue with their creations, which materialised into (aside from much hilarity) tangible results such as a production of a play they'd written, called F**k This for a Game of Soldiers.

Linda Cracknell is halfway through a two year residency with the Sick Kids Friends Foundation, working alongside the wonderful illustrator Cate James. When she spoke of approaching the worried relatives of these poorly kids, asking them if they wanted to write a story together, I thought to myself: 'good grief... you'd need even more balls for that!' At first glance, I don't think I'd have the courage to puncture through that bubble of panic and devastation that is a parent’s concern for their child. That’s because I’m a shitebag and an introvert, but when I think about it further, I begin to consider the temporary reprieve this might bring them: that precious distraction from worry, which is what most families desperately need at times like that.

They also run library workshops for patients and non-patients alike, and have created fun characters out of medical equipment and buzzy bee toys to distract and thrill a group of children while they are getting their weekly arthritis jabs. Amazing.

So what did I learn, apart from how ballsy these ladies are? I learned that the difference they must make to people's lives is incomparable, and makes my former perception of residencies seem utterly selfish. What a riddy!

The plays, the question cards, the storytelling exercises: they are all things that have derived from the blank canvas of the writers' minds. As speakers Sophie Moxon and Julie Amphlett told us: You can’t give a specific job description for a residency.

And neither should you. You can’t hem it in and create boundaries and instruction, no matter how much you crave direction. The purpose of a writing residency is to create; to explore ways to ignite that spark of humanity in people who may not necessarily have a creative nature; to give them that infectious exhilaration from creation that we as writers are well versed in.

It’s not all about the writer utilising these people and places for their own art. It’s about engaging people in a way that makes them glad you exist and makes their own existence different for you having been in it.

That's what I took away from the seminar, at least.

What about the writer? What do they get from it all? How does putting a bit of heart into their life benefit writers in their own creative endeavours?

Do you really have to ask?

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Scottish Book Trust Residencies & Opportunities seminar

Every writer should have their own caravan

At the risk of sounding like your local hairdresser, are you going anywhere nice on your holidays? Have you already been? I'm not long back from a week in the sun. We couldn't choose between the Maldives or Monaco, so opted for my sister's caravan, in Millport.

And it was amazing.

I told myself I wasn't going to write while I was away. Even as I packed my laptop and edits, I went along with my little lie. Nearly got through the whole week, too. On our last afternoon the wind and rain was battering off the caravan (is there a better sound? No. There is not.), Colin was snoozing and I decided to get nice and settled with the laptop, a hot chocolate and cake. Four hours later, I was forced to shut down so we could go for dinner. Don't you love it when you get utterly absorbed like that? The ultimate writing sesh.

I know some people have writing sheds, but can I have a writing caravan, please? One with views like this?

(This was taken on our TWELVE MILE walk around the island *gasp* *wheeze*)

One of the things I was looking most forward to about being away, was all that uninterrupted, unashamed reading time. I took the first two books from this chunky detective series by Caro Ramsay (who chairs my writers group): Absolution and Singing to the Dead. I devoured them in record time. Highly recommended if, like me, you enjoy sinister and disturbing fiction.

Have you all heard about Richard & Judy's "Search for a Bestseller?" I'm a big fan of their book club podcast; I like their taste in books. They're offering a £50k publishing deal (and an invaluable amount of promotion, I can only assume), so if you're writing a debut novel, why don't you enter it (deadline is 1st January 2014, so you've got a wee while yet)? I'm fairly sure I'll be entering it.

Speaking of entering things, there are only 11 days left to submit to the Scottish Book Trust's New Writers Award 2013. I was shortlisted last year, which was a massive confidence boost. I still need to decide what piece to submit this year; I can't decide between sending an extract of my novel or one of my short stories. Can someone make this decision for me? Please?

Anyway, what's your news? Give me all your writing/holiday/general gossip!

Take care
Catherine x ◦

Every writer should have their own caravan

Patience is the art of concealing your impatience.

Guy Kawasaki

Impatience, in my view, is one of those painful appendages of any writer. Whether it spurs a writer on or thrusts them into an abyss of worthlessness and underachieving despair, it appears to be a very common attribute amongst us who covet The Novel with our name printed boldly on the spine.

In 2012, I followed the journeys of writers who churned out three, four, ten novels at eye-watering speed. Some have later voiced regret at their haste, wishing they'd taken more time to perfect their work. Perhaps their growth as a writer enabled them to look back at their earlier efforts with a more critical, vicious eye. A cruel punishment for personal progress, you could say, but still a step in the right direction in my mind. You wouldn't want to look back and say “I wish I could still write like that”, would you?

In contrast, I've followed writers who have visibly deteriorated in their expectations of themselves: who apologise profusely for not having blogged in a few days, or get defensive about their perceived lack of progress: who set unrealistic – not to mention public – deadlines, only to burn out when they fail to reach them. I've been partial to a bit of that myself in the past; some of my old posts can only be read through a gap in fingers that cover my eyes with the mortification of it all!

With the Internet making the lives and journeys of other writers more accessible, comes the inevitable unfair comparisons. Many a time I've found myself thinking “look at how much they've accomplished... I'll never be able to write three books in a year”. Never mind the fact that I have absolutely no desire to condense my projects in that way: I automatically see their accomplishment as THE accomplishment. THE path. The path to what is debatable, but it's a complete path nonetheless, whilst my path is still being laboriously paved, brick by brick. I have to make peace with that and be patient.

Another misery I've fallen victim to is when I read all about how much fun other writers have: when their characters leap out and take over, and how these writers are just along for the ride, documenting all their wonderful antics. I smart at these declarations, consumed by jealousy. It's like going for dinner with the couple who can't stop gazing into one another's eyes, whilst you and your man fizzle with hostility because you've been arguing about who's turn it was to do the dishes earlier.

Don't get me wrong, I find writing immensely gratifying, but I'm never sitting there with a big cheeser on my face, falling deeply in love with these characters I made two chapters ago. Even when I'm writing my first drafts (which I now know is much more fun than rewriting/editing), I can't bring myself to gush about them. I grow fond of them, yes, but I'm wise to all their traits, not just the ones that charm me. To really know them is to despise them at times, in the same way your nearest and dearest can piss you right off! I'm sure the feeling is mutual: at the moment, I'm editing my “Brothers” novel and the majority of my characters are being a pain in the arse, to be frank. They keep changing things and making things difficult. Perhaps they'd be more co-operative if I figured out what their great-grandmother's doctor's mother's maiden name was.

I'm tempted to list off a bunch of goals for 2013. I like reading other people's goals and I love making lists. But I can't. I can't even say I'm 20%, 40%, 60% or even 2% complete on any one of my five first-draft novels. I have a funny feeling I've made things difficult for myself in the way I'm going about it all, but I have to make peace with that and be patient. I'm putting in the time and commitment, as well as regularly contributing to my “To Do Better Next Time” document, so the more mistakes I make, the better. *said through gritted teeth*

I'm taking this opportunity to wish all other writers a productive 2013. If you're as impatient as me, and you feel that you don't really have a lot to show for 2012, then just tell yourself what I'm telling myself: Put the work in. It will all become significant one day, even if it doesn't seem like it now. Be patient.

This will be my last post for the Insecure Writers Support Group. Aside from the A to Z Blogging Challenge in April, I will most likely only be posting once a month from now on, and I don't want to bleat on about my insecurities in every post. I shall, however, continue to support and follow the terrific writers of the #IWSG and recommend any writer to do the same.

To end on a positive note, I'm thrilled to announce that I was shortlisted in the Scottish Book Trust's New Writers Award. I'm honoured to have made an impression as there were so many applicants, and it has given me a nice wee confidence boost to take into the new year!

Take care,

Catherine x

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Patience is the art of concealing your impatience.