Blogging, Lit fests and writing longhand

I am feeling less of a need to blog right now, which is interesting. It seems to be something to do with the fact that more people are reading my blog, so maybe I am feeling a little shy. Also, it probably has to do with feeling unsettled, still, as I talked about on Petina Gappah's blog the other day, and unsure about my words. I am finding myself doing in English what I used to do in Hebrew, which is rehearsing what I am going to say before I say it, for example to the girl at the desk when I went swimming this morning. I found myself practising in my head how to ask her whether I am on the mailing list... but it's English. It's supposed to be my native language. How odd! I guess here it's not the words that are the problem, which was often the case in Hebrew, even after 15 years, but the tone of the request I wanted to make, the cultural framing of the question, how formal to be, how informal and chatty? I need to re-learn all of this. So that's perhaps why I've not been blogging much.

What I have been doing is going to hear people talk about short stories, which is heavenly! Last week I spent two nights in Lancaster with a great writer and friend, Carys Davies, who was chairing a short story session at the Lit Fest with another great writer and friend, Alison MacLeod, author of 15 Modern Tales of Attraction, and Panos Karnezis, whose short story collection, Little Infamies, came out in 2002. First, the room was set up cabaret-style, with tables and chairs rather than the audience in rows, which made for a great atmosphere. Second, each author read a complete story, which is such a treat nowadays, when often even short story writers only read excerpts.

The authors came and chatted to people in the bar afterwards, so there was none of that Us and Them that accompanies some literary festivals where the authors sign, sign, sign books and are then whisked away to a Special Area. Carys and I, and festival director Andy, went for dinner with Alison and Panos afterwards in the brand new restaurant at The Storey, and much lit gossip ensued! The next night, we went to hear novelists Andrew Miller and Sarah Hall read several excerpts from their new books, an entirely different experience, also very stimulating.

During the day in between the two events, Carys took me to Morecambe, which was such a fascinating experience. An English beach resort sounds like a contradiction in terms, and in some ways it is, with an abandoned theme park and some empty arcades filled with video game machines (see some old pictures of how it used to be here).

But it also has considerable charm: the recently renovated Midland Hotel is a wonderful example of Art Deco, and has some Eric Gill works in there. And we sat in a small cafe at the far end of the promenade, a modernist box with a wall of glass giving the most fabulous sea view (plus homemade cupcakes).  

We sat and we both did some writing, by hand. And this brings me to my next topic. I've been pretty stuck recently, not knowing what Big Project I am working on, not really feeling focussed, productive. So, I decided to try something new: writing longhand in a Moleskine notebook (thanks, J!). It's only been a week, but I am really enjoying the change, writing in a cafe with no laptop in front of me to block the view, to form a barrier between me and everyone else. The process is completely different when you can't move words around, cut and paste, check the word count every few minutes. I also like not having all the stories I've ever written - the published and the unpublished and half finished - looming over me. And... of course... no Facebook with its myriad distractions. Yes, yes, I have my theory about how playing online Scrabble as I write distracts my logical brain, but trying it without has its benefits too.

Apparently, one very well-known writer has a large house and she begins writing in longhand in the basement and, over the course of the day, works her way up to the fourth floor where the computer is... And another well-known writer can only write with fresh apples on a wooden table. Ain't it interesting to hear how others do it?

The next day, I took the train to Manchester for part 2 of my literary festivities. I wandered around the city a little, once again looking for the ghost of myself there as a Physics student in the early 1990s, searching for a familiar corner, but the city has changed so much, I couldn't find one. But it is fun! The next day, I had a lovely meeting with three writer friends, Elizabeth Baines, Annie Clarkson (who I had never met) and Mel, and more discussion about how we write, what we write, where we write...and about not writing too! And then off to the Short Weekend at the Manchester Lit Fest.

First, a session after my own heart, the launch of the When It Changed - Science into Fiction anthology from Comma Press which brought together fiction writers and scientists in order to encouraged science-inspired fiction. (Yes, I would have loved to have been in it.. but I need no encouragement to get hold of some science, so it was great to see others who'd never tried it.) There was an extremely articulate astrophysicist who made me want to head off to an observatory, and another writer friend, Adam Marek, read the tantalising beginning of his nanoscience-inspired story. Let's hope this is the start of many more science-into-fiction collaborations.

I stayed for the whole afternoon to hear a video interview with Gazan writer Atef Abu Saif (who hadn't been allowed out of Gaza to attend, sadly) talking about fiction not being political and about the need to write, and readings by fabulous Irish author Bernard MacLaverty and Iraqi writer Hassan Blasim, who had finally been allowed into England to attend, and who read a story in Arabic, with the translation projected behind him. (I was thrilled to be able to sort of follow the Arabic...!) His short stories have an element of surrealism to them and I really look forward to reading his collection, The Madman of Freedom Square, also from Comma Press.

And then, to finish off my day, a reading by Chris Beckett, whose award-winning collection The Turing Test had opened my eyes to the possibilites of science fiction (thank you Roy!). Of course, after dashing off to catch my train, missing James Lasdun's reading, the train was delayed and I nearly missed the last connection from Birmingham to Bristol. But in the end, all worked out well.

So, back now with a week before I am off to Ireland to see if my screenplay, adapted from my story North Cold, has triumphed in the Waterford Film Festival's short screenplay competition for which is is shortlisted. Nice to be home.

Writing and Place: My Guest Blog

So, after having two guest posts here about writing and where you are, and how the two mix, I've finally written my thoughts on how it was to move countries and what that has done to my words, over at  Petina Gappah's excellent blog. An extract:

So we moved, with our two cats (who are now, sadly and cruelly, in quarantine), two months ago. And that is when the culture shock hit. Yes, I had been back often on holiday. But something shifted inside me, knowing that this wasn't a short trip, and I found that I couldn't get through a whole sentence in English without stopping to search for a word. After 15 years, there were gaps in my English that I would have filled in in Hebrew. (I like to think this bilingualism made my fiction more "innovative"!)

Read the rest of the post here I would love to hear thoughts from other "aliens" in their own homes!

Can Writers Learn from the Art World?

I have an interesting topic I'd like to discuss, and would love to know what others think. First, a few words on what I am reading right now. A great blog called Writers Read asked me this a few weeks ago and they have just posted my answer today - and you might be surprised that it's not all short stories, or even fiction!

And, to shock you even more, dear blog readers, sometimes.... I just don't want to read short stories. (I know!) Sometimes... I want to have that delicious experience of immersing myself in one story for several hours. I did this yesterday, and in one day read two  novels, straight through: Dear Everybody, by Michael Kimball (thanks, Nik, for the recommendation) and the Solitude of Prime Numbers by Paolo Giordano. Both were excellently written, devastating and moving. Both, oddly, dealt with characters who were deeply wounded in some way, and with the themes of disconnection from one's family, but in very different ways. I highly recommend them both.

 Now, to the other topic I wanted to discuss. I read an article in the New Yorker the other day about a 36-year-old artist who is now the latest Wunderkind (well, slightly older) in the art world for his odd installations (wax sculptures of women that melt as the exhibition progresses; a large pit dug in the floor of the gallery) and sculptures. His works fetch enormous sums of money, in the hundreds of thousands of pounds, and this is mentioned in the Arts articles as if it is simply accepted, a matter of course. So I say this: what is it about "art" of this kind that such sums are demanded and are received but that when it comes to the written word, the situation is so different? Even talking about artists who are not the latest Hot Item, a painting in a small local gallery has a price tag of several thousand pounds. And yet... if I get £10 for a short story, I am thrilled.

Here's my question: are we not asking enough for our work? Is it something to do with a sculpture, installation or painting being a "one-off", in some way unreproducable (even though this is not always the case)? Is it that the collector or buyer wants to own the art in a way that you couldn't own a piece of writing? And... is there any way we writers could somehow emulate these artists, by putting our work up for sale instead of submitting it to a journal? Any other ideas, thinking outside the box on this one? Is there a way we might write one-off pieces too, something we can guarantee is unique and unreproducable or  - and this is a big question - do people view an object that is made up of words, which are the currency everyone trades in, as far far less valuable, as something they could "probably do themselves if they tried"?

I would love to start a proper discussion about this. What do you think? While it is quite common to hear that someone is a poet, novelist and playwright, for example, I rarely hear of someone who is a painter and short story writer. Why the gulf? Is there "art" and then "art"??

Giving up the day job, winning free books and chocolate

Yes, it may seem as though the title to this blog implies that if you give up your day job, many freebies will come your way, but that's deliberately designed to mislead, just so you'll come and read this post. Sorry! So: just a quick roundup:

I was asked by fellow writer and blogger Michelle Teasdale to talk about what it was like to give up my "day job" and become a full time writer, and I have tried to answer as honestly as possible over at her blog.

Now for the free books:

Tom Vowler's running a competition over at How To Write A Novel:

You have to write the best six-word story. Five words will be regarded as woefully short, seven as a rambling epic. And the prize? A signed copy of Lisa Glass’s debut novel, Prince Rupert’s Teardrop. Deadline Oct 31st.

Visit How To Write A Novel to win.


Canongate has very kindly given The Short Review five copies to give away of Rebecca Miller's short story collection, Personal Velocity. Visit the Competitions & Giveaways page and answer the pretty easy question for the chance to win one.

And the chocolate? Head over to Nicola Morgan's excellent blog, Help! I Need a Publisher, who has much Hotel Chocolat chocolate to give away. What to do?:

Flash fiction. A very short story, up to 100 words, which most gorgeously, elegantly, poignantly, creatively, wittily or movingly (or any combination thereof) includes three ingredients in any proportion or combination: chocolate, fear and the written word. Any genre, any age-range. 

Deadline: midday, British time, on October 21st. That's 21st, NOT 31st... 

If you want some inspiration for what to write and you're in or near London, I happened to know that there are a few spots still available on the workshop prize-winning writer Vicky Grut is running on Sat 17th Oct: "The Paper Clock: Handling Narrative Time". Visit London Writing Workshops for more info.

So, free books, chocolate and a workshop. All we need now is for someone to make the tea. Good luck to all!

Paying it forward

I am toughening up in the chilly English weather - there's me, in a coat, scarf and knee-high boots while around me, students stroll in T-shirts and flip-flops. I feel a bit mad. But... we joined an outdoor swimming pool  for the winter!!! I can't quite believe it. It's three minutes walk from our house, and actually, it's very refreshing. The whole set up is a bit posh, the revamped Lido, with a glass-walled cafe overlooking the brave swimmers. Going from the pool to the jacuzzi, my body is saying, What? What? What? I'll get used to it. Not swum in the rain... or sleet... yet!


So, onto business. So many lovely things have been happening to me that I have decided that it's time to Pay It Forward. The latest news is that my short screenplay adapted from my story North Cold is a finalist in the Waterford Film Fest's short screenplay comp, am off to ireland on Nov 8th to see if I've won.... and I'm a finalist in PANK magazine's 1,001 Awesome Words comp and will be published there. So, I'd like to return the karma. A few months ago I took Sue Guiney up on her offer to Pay it Forward: she sent me a beautiful gift in the post (her poetry play, Dreams of May, and a starfish pendant) in return for my promise to send a gift to three more people. Now it's your turn: I will send something to the first three people who comment here and promise to pay it forward too. Give me your email address if it's not on your blogger profile. Let's spread the love!

A bit more love: Kelly gave me a Kreativ Blogger award some time ago, thank you Kelly! The rules are:

• 1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.
• 2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.
• 3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award.
• 4. Name 7 things about yourself that people might find interesting.
• 5. Nominate 7 Kreativ Bloggers.
• 6. Post links to the 7 blogs you nominate.
• 7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they have been nominated.

So, 7 things? Ok: I used to have a piercing in my belly button; I speak English, Hebrew, French, German and a little Arabic; I wrote my first book when I was 6, a novel about triplets (unfinished and, fortunately, unpublished); I am right-handed but eat with my cutlery the "wrong" way round; I have a toe ring; I can hula hoop fairly well; I learned to do a headstand again at the age of 30-something. 

I nominate:

Diane Becker (with snazzy new blog layout!) 
How publishing really works full of very useful information
Mira's List fabulous blog with grants, fellowships and residences for creative people
The Quack Doctor "a collection of panacean powders, pills, potions and pamphlets, as advertised in historical newspapers."
God Shuffles His Feet  - always thought-provoking
Anam cara Writers and Artists Retreat - a creative blog about a heavenly place that nurtures creativity.
Branta: The Might of Write lots of interesting writing-related "stuff"

So, don't forget - first three commenters who agree to pay it forward get a gift!

10 Reasons/Lame Excuses for Not Writing

1. I've just moved countries and am unsettled (can milk this one for months and months...)
2. The cats are in quarantine and I can't possibly write without them (another 5 months' shelf life for this excuse)
3. My new study is an unfamiliar place, I can't write here until I feel totally comfortable (Yes, right, I can write in any cafe but not my own workspace?)
   
4. I've got far too much to do with the Short Review (I have a great deputy editor, so really can't use this one)
5. I do lots of writing-related things (Hmm, this old one...)
6. I am in a fallow period and should be gentle with myself (ah, this is good, can use this one a lot)
7. I'm still working on promoting my book (Oh, come on, it's been 13 months, get over it...)
8. I write very very short stories so don't need very long to do it, I can always do one later (Yes, but I want to write longer stories, so I need to get down to it...)
9. I don't know what I want to write (If I wait for this, I'll never write again...)
10. Because it's the thing I most want to do and so, being contrary, I'm not going to do it. (I don't get this at all....but it's a strong one)

Writing and Place Guest Blog post 2: Miriam's thoughts

As I formulate witty and insightful thoughts in my head about the cultural differences between my new city and Jerusalem, I am bringing you the second in the Writing & Place series of guest blog posts, this one from Miriam Drori, who blogs at An' De Walls Came Tumblin Down. A bit about our guest today: Miriam Drori came to writing late in life, prompted by a passionate desire to be understood and to help others. By profession, she is a writer of a different sort: a technical writer. Miriam lives in Jerusalem with her husband, three children, a cat who walked in one day and a novel that’s straining to get out into the world.

Take it away, Miriam!

TH: Where are you?
MD: In my office, in the fourth residence we have lived in since getting married. Like all the previous ones, it is in Jerusalem, Israel.

TH: How long have you been there?
MD: In this amazingly large and beautiful house with (thanks to my husband) a very special garden: 4 years. In Jerusalem: 31 years. In Israel: 33 years.

the view from Miriam's office

TH: Why are you there?
MD: That's a question I'm often asked, usually by people, in Israel or the UK or elsewhere, who can't understand why anyone would want to leave stable, cool and carefree England to live in a country with ... let's say: problems. And heat. In the past, I replied that I followed my husband-to-be to this place. Which is true, but it's not the whole truth. Another important reason is something I didn't have the knowledge or the words to explain then. It has to do with being in a "hidden" minority and with social anxiety. Social anxiety, very briefly, is a fear of people and especially of what those people think of the sufferer. I caught this disorder while growing up in England, but it could have happened anywhere. Combine that with being in a minority that's not immediately obvious (unless you dress to look the part – and then it helps if you're a man) and life is filled with difficulties. In the place where I am now, I can say "I'm Jewish," without worrying what the other person will think.

TH: What do you write?
MD: I began writing because I want to publicise social anxiety. Because I wish I'd known about it earlier and want others to know as soon as possible. Before that, I didn't think I was able to write anything beyond the technical writing I did for a living. Certainly, I didn't think I could be creative. Having a goal helped me to overcome that hurdle. Now, I write about many things, but I often return to my original topic.


TH: How do you think where you are affects what you write about?
MD: It doesn't – not majorly. I agree with Nik that similar things happen to people everywhere. However, if the story isn't abstract the characters have to be in some place. It's hard to describe a place you've never been to, or to describe living in a place you haven't lived in. I think all my experiences influence what I write about, and the places I've lived in are part of those experiences. I set my first novel in England. I didn't want to set it in Israel, because I felt that readers have certain expectations of novels set in Israel and I didn't want to address those issues. I couldn't have set it in say, America, where I spent a total of 10 days many years ago. Although I was left with a string of superlatives: coldest, strangest, wildest, ... place I've ever been to, I couldn't begin to describe living there.

I like to sit in our garden when I write. I was sitting there when I wrote a short story about an artist, and – guess what – she painted the very scene I was looking at! I think location can give a story character, even though it's not usually the theme of the story.

TH: And how you write?
MD: A tough question – again I agree with Nik. Perhaps it's because I don't know how I write. I don't know how I can be creative after having been certain, for so long, that I'm not a creative person. And I don't know how to describe how my stories are written, in terms of content, and hope that they don't all fit the same pattern or style. I suspect how has something to do with finally growing up and with being able to understand, partly, what's going on in my head. Nothing to do with where I am.

Thank you, Tania, for giving me the opportunity to ramble on. Now I can sit back and read other thoughts on location.

 
Thank you, Miriam, for sharing your thoughts with us. Nik Perring wrote the first guest blog post on Writing & Place. More  coming soon, let me know if you'd like to contribute.

Small Wonder Festival and Some Small Wonders of My Own

Four days at a short story festival, what a wonderful idea! From Thursday night until Sunday night, at gorgeous Charleston, home of Virginia Woolf's sister Vanessa Bell, writers reading from their stories and talking about stories. And in a large barn, with atmospheric lowing from the cows next door and the soothing hum of milking machines.

I came on Thursday night and stayed til Sunday lunchtime with Vanessa, in the company of several other writer friends, which meant late night chats about that thing that we do! I went to six events, and to sum it up I would say that while the concept of Small Wonder is fabulous and the organisers are to be applauded, it is, as most of these festivals must be, driven by commercial considerations, or, to use that lovely British phrase, "bums on seats". In other words: ticket sales and then book sales. Of course this is important since, sadly, there are no billionaire short-story-loving angels dispensing money to the few short story festivals that exist. But the upshot is that almost every writer is a "name", because otherwise many of the seats would be unfilled. So, as someone who loves to read experimental, non-traditional short stories from new voices, often published by small presses, much of the writing here didn't excite me.

Thinking about it, one of the reasons may be that there is only one space - albeit a very large converted barn - in which to hold the events, and so there is only ever one session at a time. If there was a second, smaller space, perhaps the big names could draw the crowds to subside the newer, riskier talents who might be talking only to a few keen and more adventurous readers and listeners. It would be a great shame to change the venue, Charleston is stunning and there is the scent of artistic endeavour in the air. But I read so many short story collections that just knock me sideways and I would love for these writers to reach the type of audiences that come to Small Wonder. Maybe I'm dreaming... but a girl can dream!

More specifically, though, the festival started badly for me but ended on a high. First, the low point: the event that kicked off my Small Wonder experience was one of those a short story lover hopes never to have to sit through, especially at a festival which celebrates the form. It was an "oh, the poor short story, why doesn't anyone want to read it?" type event, at which the question was even raised as to what the short story can do that, say, the novel can't. Oh, oh, oh: why even ask the question? Once you've read one great story, you know the answer. My blood pressure was rising dangerously.... and take this kind of thing very personally, perhaps too personally, but it just makes me MAD.

Thankfully, the excellent, sharply Scottish and very real writer Janice Galloway, whom I had heard so much about from Sara, cut through all of this nonsense to tell it like it is, as well as reading from her excellent stories. Thank you, Janice, for saving my health! Of course, I had to say something so, in the guise of a question - the final question! - I said how I didn't want to talk about the "problem with short stories" because I don't think there is a problem. The problem, I said, is that the pioneers taking the "risk" of publishing short story collections are the small presses, who do it for love and are often on the verge of financial ruin because of it. My question? "What did the panel think about this?"!! Apparently, although I was shaking from my public speaking and didn't notice, Janice Galloway applauded my question. And then she made the excellent point that these small presses make beautiful books and the reader just must go and search out these books. It's up to the reader. Yes, it is.

I approached her afterwards, we had a lovely chat, and she agreed to be interviewed for The Short Review to accompany a review of her new Collected Stories, which I promptly asked for from her publisher. So all wasn't completely dismal! (It was also great to meet Tom Lee, one of the others on the panel, a lovely writer whose first collection, Greenfly, we will be reviewing shortly!)

And the ending? Well, a session chaired by Alison MacLeod - a great writer and friend whose Fifteen Modern Tales of Attraction is a must-have collection - in which A. L Kennedy, one of my favourite writers, and Helen Dunmore, read from the short stories they were commissioned to write for the new Amnesty International anthology, Freedom, inspired by the anniversary of the UN Declaration of Human Rights. Two completely different stories, both deeply moving and beautifully written, and three highly intelligent and thoughtful writers discussing the book and the role of short stories. Fabulous, inspiring, unsettling. Alison introduced me to the woman from Amnesty afterwards, and I already have a review copy of the book, so watch this space and the Short Review for more on the book, including a giveaway and a blog post about how it all came about.

All in all, a great four days, for me personally too. I had flown from Israel to attend Small Wonder a few years ago on my own, and had found it quite a lonely experience, no-one to chat to, I was on the outside looking in. This time, within an hour of arriving, some lovely person - one of the founders of a shortly-to-be-launched short story venture, Spoken Ink, which will offer audio downloads of stories read by professional actors - wanted to meet me, has my book and "will be in touch"! I was introduced to the festival organiser, and was in the glorious company of Vanessa, Jo, Claudia, Selma, Vicky (congratulations on being an Asham finalist), Jenny, Marian, Geraldine, Adam, Alison... A very different view of events. It made me more confident, approaching people to give out Short Review postcards, sitting in the audience without that swirling in the pit of my stomach of longing to be "the ones with their names on the books". It was a great opportunity for me to see different stops on my personal journey, where I have traveled from and where I am.

Perhaps an opportune moment in this blog post to mention some small wonders of my own. Actually, pretty huge wonders. In the past two weeks I have been asked to judge not one but two short story competitions: I will be one of the judges of the next Bristol Short Story Prize, which is such a thrill and a great vote of confidence from my new home city. Joe Melia, the competition organiser, is a dynamic short story lover with so many ideas and I am delighted to be part of his plan for world short story domination! This year's competition will be launched in a few weeks, I will keep you updated.

The second offer is a double wonder: I am to be the new editor of Southword, the literary magazine of the Munster Literature Centre in Ireland which organises the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Prize and the annual festival which I read at last year. I will be taking over from Philip Ó Ceallaigh in December, and this one-year-post comes along with the honour of being the single judge of next year's Sean O'Foalain short story competition. Yes, I was bowled over to be asked. Bowled over.

I feel incredibly honoured and look forward to both of these responsibilities with great delight. Both competitions are judged strictly anonymously, so you can enter without any worries on that score - which is reassuring to me too. I will be reading the longlist of the Bristol Prize and every single entry of the Sean O'Faolain competition, and will report here on how it is to be on the other side of the process for a change.

A further surprise and delight: the three stories I have had broadcast on BBC Radio 4 were produced by Sweet Talk, a wonderful independent production company with whom I have become great friends. I had suggested that flash fiction could work in the Afternoon Reading slot (now three days a week, down from five), and Jeremy at Sweet Talk had mentioned this to the folks at Radio 4. Or rather: he cajoled, persuaded and assured them it could work. And now... they've said yes to a flash fiction week of stories! And not only this but, gulp, a week of my flash fiction! Yes, I know, I was on the floor too. Jeremy told me yesterday that it's now official and will be broadcast in April next year, so now we have to pick around 12 flash stories. I am unbelievably excited and I hope this open the doors to much more flash fiction on Radio 4, one of the best - and best-paying - British venues for short stories.

All of this feels to me like the clearest signal that our move here is the right one for me at this stage in my career. I get to travel around the country meeting people who want to talk about short stories (four or five more events in the next few weeks alone), and I am privileged enough to be asked for my opinion on the precious stories that are sent in to competitions, which I know only to well is really a great act of faith on the part of a writer. Will I be writing at all? I hope so! I have applied for a grant for writers working on their second book, so that would most definitely help. And I will be attempting to fathom my way through the Arts Council application forms, we will see how that goes. (A new review of the White Road and Other Stories on Bookmunch wonderfully entitled "Eschewing the rote delineation of new facts and stats in favour of zesty, obtuse life" is a great boost!)

And to put back some of this wonderful karma, I took part in Sue Guiney's Pay it Forward and so, in return for her sending me her excellent poetry play Dreams of May and a beautiful pendant, I am to "pay it forward" by offering to send a gift to the first three people who comment here saying that they agree to pay it forward too. How about it?

And last but not least, thank you to Kelly for the Kreative blogger award. After writing this blog post it might be more accurate to call it the lengthy-waffling-blog award, but I am honoured! I promise I will do all the things I am supposed to do in the next blog post.

I'm going offline now til tomorrow night, it's Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement, a day of fasting and contemplation, so for those of you observing it, may it pass smoothly.

Writing and Place: Guest Blog Post by Nik Perring

"Place" is something that is preoccupying me now, as I deal with the fact of having moved countries a month ago. Since I am still processing, I thought I would ask my friend, author, writing colleague and blogger Nik Perring, how where he is affects him and his writing. If anyone else would like to do a guest blog post on this topic, please drop me a line!

Where are you?
In my office, which is an a house, which is in a village, which is about a half hour’s drive from Manchester and a twenty minute drive from the Peak District. In the UK.

How long have you been there?
I say this with a bit of regret and considerable frustration: pretty much all of my life.

I didn’t go to university, I chose to work instead, so I missed out on that experience which is something now, that I kind of regret. That said, I don’t think I’d have ended up being a writer if I had gone, so really I should be grateful to fate for that.

The other reason for regret and frustration is that I shouldn’t really be here, but that’s another story.

Were you there when you wrote I met a Roman Last Night, What Did You Do? If not, where were you?

Yes. I wrote it here, where I’m sitting. At this desk, from this very chair.

How do you think your location affected that book?

I’m not sure that it did. Not in any conscious or, more accurately, intentional way. Though I think there’s a possibility that being here for so long has made me interested in other things and places and people, made me actively Find Stuff Out, looking outward – and also made me look inside for inspiration and stories.

How do you think where you are affects what you write about and how you write?

Again, I’m not sure that it does in any conscious way – speaking for myself. While at the same time I’ll contradict myself and say: an awful lot. I think, in answering this, I’m also trying to find out what I think.

I like to think that I write about what interests me, about characters I make up who interest me. Now that could be a young lad who ends up meeting various and exciting historical peoples who feature on the National Curriculum, as easily as it could be about a nosey librarian who might be getting the wrong end of a stick about the intentions of one of her borrowers. I like to think that the people I write about are as universal as they can be and not restricted by place, as much as that’s possible; I think that a hugely important factor in good story telling is having characters that people can recognise – where they’re from or where they are, in my opinion, is something that comes second to that – although, clearly where they are will, to some degree, make them who they are and/or make them act the way they do. Complicated, huh?

Now for the contradictory part. All that said, I think it’s impossible to have been somewhere with it not having affected you in some way, good or bad. As writers, we soak things up, quite naturally – and it’s what has been absorbed that provides us with the stuff that our characters and settings come from. And books. Reading books does that too.

I think it comes down to this: a fiction writer’s biggest tool is his/her imagination. It’s the mind. The ability to make stuff up. The ability to make characters believable. The ability to show us their world (not the writer’s). How those characters are formed, where the ideas for them come from, aren’t that important to a reader because they, normally, won’t have anything to do with the story. So where a writer’s been and who they’ve met and the experiences they’ve had will all have fuelled his or her subconscious understanding or observation of people and places and the interactions between them, it’s what goes on top, what adds colour and character to their work that’s the difference, and that’s something that has to come from the imagination.

For me - and again I can only speak for myself here and I appreciate lots of people will disagree (I’m also speaking as someone whose work doesn’t often have a particularly strong lean towards realism) – a story is about a character or characters. It’s the story of what a character does, how she or he reacts to something, what they do to cope with something, how they feel about something - whatever that something may be. So a story is about people. And people are everywhere. And those somethings they have to deal with are pretty similar from place to place. If we’re talking about a character dealing with, say, ‘loss’ for instance: what places in the world don’t have people dealing with, or having dealt with, loss? The kind of loss may be shaped by their location, but that fundamental emotion is something that can be understood, recognised and empathised with, wherever you’re from. I also think that as emotions are something that are easily translated it’s often not essential to identify where a story’s set.

What I find I’m discovering, as I contradict myself and circle the point for an answer, is that a lot of this is down to a writer’s perception of themselves. It’s about ego. At the moment, for a hundred different reasons, I’m frustrated with where I am so I think I’m trying to find as many ways as I can to say that I don’t take inspiration from this place, when clearly I do, whether I want to or not. (I’m also discovering how much contradiction is part of my life.)

And how does location affect how a writer writes?

Tough one. I’d guess that writers have a compulsion to write. So if we’re talking about routine: they’ll fit it in somehow regardless of where they are. I’d also guess that where they are could either inspire them to write about their location or go completely the opposite way and cause them to write about somewhere else as a means of escape. Or a mixture of the two. You’re probably best asking them!

Complex creatures, writers. And they don’t have as much control over what they write as they may like to think, it would seem.

So that’s what I think about that, I’d be curious to hear what others’ opinions are.


Thanks so much, Nik, for expressing all the contradictions involved in thinking about how where we are affects what we do as writers. Anyone else?

Short story news roundup

I'm not yet ready to blog about what it's like to have moved countries, that kind of thing, I am still musing, so I thought I'd bring some exciting news from Short Story World. First, Electric Literature, the new lit zine that is available in print, as an eBook, or for your Kindle of iPhone, and pays its contributors a wonderful $1000 per story (!) has taken an exciting step into the world of animation and asked animators to create a very short film based on one line from each of the pieces they published in Issue 1. Here, for example, is Jonathon Ashley's take on a sentence from Michael Cunningham's novel excerpt:




There is one more animation on the Electric Literature YouTube page as well as a trailer for Jim Shepherd's Your Fate Hurtles Down at You. I love the idea of animating short stories... see what you think.

Another very welcome newcomer is Madras press, based in the US. This is what they are all about - and they are publishing the wondrous Aimee Bender as one of their first authors, which is always a great thing!

"Madras Press publishes individually bound short stories and novellas and distributes the proceeds to a growing list of charitable organizations chosen by our authors.

The format of our books provides readers with the opportunity to experience a story on its own, with no advertisements or unrelated articles surrounding it; it also provides a home for stories that are often arbitrarily ignored by commercial publishing outfits, whether because they’re too long for magazines but not trade-book length, or because they don’t resemble certain other stories. These are clumsy, ill-fitting stories made perfect when read in the simplest possible way.

Published in regular series of four, our books also serve as fundraising efforts for a number of charitable causes and organizations. Each of our authors has selected a beneficiary to which all net proceeds generated from the sales of his or her book will be donated; these include organizations dedicated to environmental protection, community development, human services, and much more.

On October 1, our online bookstore will open, at which time you'll be able to order from our first series of titles:The Third Elevator, by Aimee Bender
Proceeds to benefit InsideOUT Writers

Bobcat, by Rebecca Lee
Proceeds to benefit Riverkeeper

Sweet Tomb, by Trinie Dalton
Proceeds to benefit the Theodore Payne Foundation

A Mere Pittance, by Sumanth Prabhaker
Proceeds to benefit Helping Hands: Monkey Helpers for the Disabled

Each book will cost about as much as a greeting card, and will come with your name (or a name of your choice) transcribed in an ex-libris panel on the inside front cover."

A lovely idea, not only boosting the short story, but raising money for worthy causes at the same time. Founding editor Sumanth Prabhaker told me they will be accepting submissions from oct 1st and "We operate on a purely volunteer basis, so that the only cost subtracted from the sticker price of online purchases is for manufacturing. Acquisitions, editing, design, production, and marketing are all done at no cost. Taking inspiration from the Concord Free Press, we are foregoing commercial distribution and working directly with bookstores and consumers." Good luck to them!

Thirdly, going head to head with the BBC National Short Story Award, but with a bigger cheque, the brand new Sunday Times Short Story Prize will award £25,000 (no, you haven't read that wrong) "for a single short story in Britain and Ireland. " Says the announcement:

"The prize, backed by EFG Private Bank, is the latest sign that the genre is once again thriving after many years of falling popularity. The contest is open to authors who have already had work published in Britain and Ireland, and is intended to attract well-established writers as well as relative unknowns."

Now, this is welcome news indeed, as is anything that intends to get more people reading short stories (falling popularity? You're just looking in the wrong places).

However, as with the BBC award, this is not judged anonymously, which bothers me. It always bothers me. Is it about the writing or about the name above the writing? An interesting discussion on Facebook ensued, with Nicola making the excellent point that since this is open to published stories, it can't be anonymous since some of the (six) judges may have read some of the stories submitted and know who they were written by. Very good point. So: just accept unpublished stories. That solves that one.

What do you think? We all know that it is hard enough to read something without simultaneously looking up the author's bio, let alone reading something by a "big name". You just can't really read it in a vacuum. But you can at least attempt that. If it is going to be "award for best previously-published story" then that is something else.

I'm not complaining, not really. Just thinking out loud. £25,000 will mean an enormous amount to any writer unless they are Dan Brown, I highly doubt any writer of literary fiction (if this is what the prize is aiming at) makes that from their books. Yes, the best short story should win. But I say that anything that might stand in the way of that goal should, if at all possible, be removed.

Thoughts??

And the winners are...

I assigned everyone a number, and then used a random number generator (honestly, I did) to pick the winners. And... drum roll... the winners of a birthday signed copy of The White Road and Other Stories are:

• Andrew Philip
• Richard Osgood
• Nadiya

Congratulations! Email me at taniah@gmail.com and give me your addresses, I'll pop the books in the post.

For those of you that didn't win, a very special birthday offer: I am happy to send you a signed copy from my personal stash, for £6/$10, which includes p&p. You won't find it cheaper anywhere! If you'd like one, please email me at taniah@gmail.com . I will do my best to write an original and witty dedication to each person!

PS Funnily enough, I just got an email saying I'd won a book, The Einstein Girl, in a prize draw over at How Publishing Really Works. What goes around...

The Nude not Naked Tour Arrives at TaniaWrites!

I am delighted to be hosting the second leg on my great friend and writing colleague Nuala Ní Chonchúir's Nude Not Naked virtual book tour for her stunning short story collection, Nude, published on Sept 1st by Salt Publishing.

Young though she may be (the same age as me, so very very young!), Nuala, who lives in Galway, has already published 4 books: two short story collections and two collections of poetry, with a third forthcoming from Templar Poetry in November. Shortlisted for the European Prize for Literature, the Irish Times included her in their "People to watch this year" feature in January. Watch her? You'd better concentrate, she is so prolific and active, you are liable to miss something if you don't! (Did I mention that she gave birth to her third child, Juno, this year too?)


Before we start chatting, I thought I would give you a taste of Nuala's latest collection, in which all the stories have some flavour of nudity, but it is never what you expect. I tried so hard not to read it in one sitting, to savour it over time. But I couldn't put it down. It is clear to see that the writer is also a poet who loves language and rhythm.



Here is an excerpt from Unmothered:

The outflow on the bath is like a keyhole; you stopper it with your toe and let the water lap in your ears, to block out the house. If you were key-shaped, you wouldslither into that hole and slip down the pipes, away from here. Away from the women who breed women; the women who have cried lavishly for three days, though your daughter was an embarrassment to them and you all knowit. When you called your baby Angelica, your sister said it was a waste of a good name.

There is no name for you now.

Welcome, Nuala!


Tania: This is your third book of short stories. How do you feel this book is different, in terms of the writing style, tone, voices, subject matter, themes - any of those or other things?

Nuala: I think the style is pretty much still me; style is such an innate thing – an extension of personality – so I don’t think that’s changed in my work. I hope maybe it’s more comfortable now though, more honed. I feel like I’ve learnt so much over the years about what story is and hopefully some of that is apparent in my work. I’m a fan of stylistic, poetic writing and I hope I’ve achieved a better version of that in this book than in the others.

There are less children’s voices in Nude, as there are in To the World of Men, Welcome, my second collection; the themes are more adult in both. They deal a lot with broken relationships and sex. Nude has a lot of visual art in it from different POV’s: the artist, the model, the painting. If I was any good, I’d like to have been an artist.

The Wind Across the Grass, my first collection, mined a different seam – there were children’s lives in it. I do enjoy writing from a child’s point of view – I remember my own childhood vividly – but it can be a relief to write as an adult sometimes. I prefer being a grown-up!

T: For me, publishing my short story collection drew a line under all the 27 stories that were in it: it meant that they were done, dealt with, I didn't have to worry about them anymore and could move on. What does it mean to you as a writer to publish a book, whether it be poetry or short stories, both of which you write? What does having a book do for you personally?

N: Oh yes, I agree with that – the stories in Nude are now finished and I have a fresh canvas. It’s a relief in one way to get the book out there and nerve-wracking in another. I don’t show my fiction to anyone before it’s published (not even my Peer Group) so the first reading it gets is in magazines or a collection. I never know what people will make of the stories. I guess I still never do afterwards – it’s hard to discuss stories with the writer of them – but friends and other readers etc are generally quite positive. To my face at least!

I love having a new book – it’s the reward after years of writing.

T: Did you write with the "nude" theme in mind or did you just wake up one day and realise that you had a set of stories where nudity was, if not a theme, then something that is glimpsed in each story?

N: It was the latter, really. I’m fairly obsessed with visual art and I’ve collected postcards of the nude in art for years – people send them to me from their hols and I buy them in galleries. I made a notice-board of nudes for my wall and began to write poems and stories around some of them. It wasn’t deliberate but I think it works well as a linking motif. in the book. Not all of the stories feature art so it’s not some sort of false imposition of a theme. Some of the nudes are lovers and their unclothed bodies are incidental; some – like the boy modelling as the young Jesus in Jackson and Jerusalem – are more central.

T: You say, "If I was any good, I’d like to have been an artist." I say: you are an artist, a word artist. What draws you to the visual image that you don't think you can get from words, either writing or reading them?

N: "Word artist" – that’s cool! I’m pretty awed by people who can paint or sculpt well. I love the way they can have an idea and translate that into the visual; I’d like to have that gift. I can get a lot of visual stuff from words but a beautiful painting is a different thing. Plus it doesn’t feel like stealing to write about a painting, whereas it can to write about/from someone’s words.

T: Also, I am intrigued that you don't show your fiction to anyone until it's published. Why is this? Were you burned by bad or useless critique? Or is it just a part of your process? Does this mean that publication is the tool you use to gauge if your story is "done"?

N: I just don’t feel the need to show it; I am fairly confident in my abilities in fiction and don’t really want input from others. Though I do attend the odd workshop or master-class and they can be fun.

I have a note on my notice-board: "The story you’re writing is a secret." I think I picked that up from a Jack Heffron book. I’d consider it good advice – if you constantly let other people into your story before it’s finished it could get messed around and muddled. I’d hate that. I have enough trouble trying to figure out what’s going on myself without other writers fiddling with my story.

Poetry is different – I like to get critique and feedback on that and I find it helpful. It’s easier to critique poems, probably because they are short and ‘visible’. My first writing group was a poetry one, so I guess it just became my modus operandi to keep my stories to myself.

I usually know myself when a story is done; it’s when I’m happy enough to send it out.

T: Thank you so much, Nuala, it was an honour and a privilege to have you stop by on your way around the (virtual) world. Best of luck with the book.

N: Thanks a million, Tania, for having me at your lovely blog. Next week, on my virtual tour, I'll be stopping off at writer Colm Keegan's place, Uiscebots Blog. Do stop by to eavesdrop on a little chat between two Dubliners.


For more on the virtual book tour, visit Nude Not Naked. To buy Nude, click on the link. You won't regret it, it is a moving, entertaining and vital addition to every bookshelf. A writer to watch, but more importantly, to read.

Reminder: today is the last day to win one of three signed copies of my book in my First Birthday Giveaway! Leave a comment on the First Birthday Giveaway blog post to win!

The Short Review Sept 2009

Well, couple of rejections this week (Tin House, who held on to my story for 6 months while others were being rejected, so that was some consolation, despite the form rejection!), but cheered, as always, by this month's Short Review. What's in it, you ask??

In this month's issue, we bring you false relations, damaged goods, repetition patterns, quick repair, stories like donut holes, stories named for rivers, things that are cold to the touch, people who always want something, the collected stories of the Armitage family, and our first review of an ebook which leaves the reader, Radiohead-style, to decide what they'd like to pay. And, as ever, author interviews with almost everyone we review.

Controversially, perhaps, we've added the Literary Fiction category to the Find Something to Read By Category page. Difficult one, this. Might cause trouble. Who is to say what is Lit Fic and what isn't? Hmm. What do you think??

Also: Surprise yourself! Check out our non-complete list of short story collections published in 2008 and so far this year (almost). More than you thought, eh?

Pop in and have a read. Also: 4 more days to shout "pick me!" for your chance to win a signed copy of the White Road and Other Stories. Read about it here.

First Birthday Book Giveaway

It's The White Road and Other Stories' first birthday today. Wow. What a year! And here I am, sitting at my new desk in my new study in our new city. Who would have thought?

My great writer/blogger colleague and friend Nik Perring. has interviewed me about that first year over at his blog. A few tantalising snippets, and then down to the Free Book stuff...

Because I am published by a small press, Salt, even though they are amazing and they made me this beautiful book, most of the marketing and promotion was and is down to me. And I have no clue about selling a book! Well, perhaps now I have a bit more of a clue. So, basically, I made it up as I went along. I built a website for the book, I set up a Facebook Page, I organised a hectic 11-stop Virtual Book Tour where I was interviewed on 11 blogs over 11 weeks about everything from my love for science to writing and religion.... I cajoled as many people as possible into writing reviews....I obsessively checked my Amazon rankings, searching for some indication of whether what I was doing was working. And whirring through my mind, all the time, was: “How can I sell the book? How can I sell the book?”

To find out the biggest surprises of the last 12 months, and more, pop in to Nik's blog. And thanks to Eco-libris, I have planted a tree for every copy printed, which is more than I expected (mother buying 100+ 10 friends!) although not quite a forest yet.

FREE BOOKS!

Ok, in celebration, I am giving away THREE signed copies of The White Road and Other Stories - to anyone, anywhere in the world. If you'd like one, just leave a comment here saying "Pick me!" (inspired by Caroline!) or something similar. You have until Sept 8th, and then I'll pick three winners out of a hat.

Happy birthday also too to Nuala Ní Chonchúir's wondrous short story collection, Nude, which is published today by Salt! Nuala's Nude Not Naked Virtual Book Tour kicks off today, and I will be hosting her here next week, Sept 8th, talking about writing, art, and perhaps a little about nudity!

So, anyone want a free book??

We've landed

Yes, we're here! And we have Internet, which arrived the day after we did, miracle of miracles. Bristol is lovely, although rather damp and half the temperature (celsius) of where we moved from. It's delightful, confusing, disorienting, I am finding that my English isn't quite what I thought it was... they say that after 5 years in a country where your mother tongue isn't the native language, you are no longer a native speaker of that language. I can understand that now. I like to think it makes my writing more "colourful"!

I won't write too much more now, just to say that it is lovely to be in a place where people's default expression when they meet you on the street is a smile. I like that. I am sure there will be other things I find harder, and many aspects of Israel that I miss. Give me time, I will moan. And will take pictures of our new home when our stuff arrives on Tuesday.

Other things to report: got a rejection from the New Yorker, there's a surprise. Also, deadlines tomorrow for Norton Hint Fiction and the Juked short story and poetry competition, so get your entries in. And congratulations to Petina Gappah, whose short story collection, An Elegy for Easterly, is shortlisted for the Guardian First Book Award. (See the Short Review blog for more, including a link to my review of the book.)

And... and....

It's the 1st birthday of The White Road and Other Stories on Sept 1st! (Did I mention the book at all, at all, all the time...??!) One year. I can't believe it. In celebration, I will be reflecting on the year-that-has-been over at Nik Perring's blog, and also giving away several signed copies of the book here, should you need some reading material for your loo, or an Autumnal gift for a loved one, that kind of thing.

OK, off out to experience a real Sunday. In Israel, Sunday is the first day of the work week, something you almost never get used to, coming from a weekendy kind of culture. We will seek out brunch, armed with large newspapers with many sections.

Moving Day

Today is the day. Wow. Both cats in their cat carriers after hair-raising 2am crash as Cat No 2 pushed his way through the defenses blocking the cat flap from BOTH sides and vanished. By 8am he was back, thank goodness. Now he is singing to us of his displeasure as we do the last bits of tidying up. New country, soon, and I think he'll prefer the cooler temperatures. Well, something like that!

I don't know when I'll be online again, a few days I hope. Somewhere else. It's all very exciting. In the meantime here are two flash stories published in the latest issue of The Pedestal magazine, in the wonderful company of Stefanie Freele, among others. See you on the other shore!

Cats - an update

So, for those of you concerned about how our Cats-Prepare-For-Flight day went, I will tell you, and it has its poetic moments too!

First, we remained calm yesterday morning in the face of one cat being too clever to be duped into his cat carrier and vanishing over the garden fence. And in he trotted, just at the right minute, and was sufficiently impressed with my non-stressed demeanour that he allowed himself to be grabbed and bundled in.

Our first hurdle, with two wailing cats in their way-too-big British-Airways-approved cat carriers in the back of the car, was to find the office of the Jerusalem district vet during the 1.5 hours he turns up in the city every week. Inside the same building as the Israel Antiquities Authority, a very ancient structure itself, we waited as Mr District Vet was late, trying to keep the dog in front of us in the queue from hassling the cats, and all the time worrying how we would get the cats out of the cat carriers for the vet to check them and then back in.

We didn't have to worry. A lovely Brazilian man, he was far more interested in discussing the finer points of English spelling and saying how much he preferred British accents to Americans (he had problems understand some Texans recently). He peered at the cats sitting warily in their carriers, and then filled out the forms we needed, while telling us that in 9 years he had only seen a few people who were taking pets to England, despite the harsh quarantine. But rather than telling us off for putting our cats through that, he felt it showed that we really love them and we aren't prepared to abandon them. "Ah," he sighed. "Sometimes I wish all my neighbours were cats and dogs." Pause. "And my work colleagues too!" And then, as we stood up to leave, he gestured to the heavens and said: "If there is someone up there, he's smiling down on you." Well.

The cats safely back in the car, we grinned all the way down the motorway, or at least until the first crazy driver overtook on the inside and crossed 3 lanes of traffic. The cats didn't enjoy the journey either. And once in the airport, we got a bit lost in "Cargo City" (this, in a country of only 6 million people...) But I tracked down the British Airways office ("Ah, the cat lady!" they said) and from then on it went swimmingly. A room full of strangely polite and friendly Israeli men in BA attire peered into the cat carriers. "Isn't he big!" they said. "He's a tiger!" Zac sat, unperturbed. Or perhaps deeply traumatised, who knows? We didn't think he was so big. Maybe a little tall for his age.

I signed the forms and then the moment we had been dreading: transferring the cats from the carriers they'd fly in to their much smaller regular cat carriers so airport security could hold onto the bigger ones. "Stand back," I told the strangely polite and friendly Israeli men in BA attire. "We'll give you privacy," they said seriously. And yet...

.... we put one cat carrier facing the other, and both cats just quietly strolled from one to the other.

Not a wail. Nothing.

Well, relief. The friendly BA men seemed a little sad at the lack of drama. They assured us they'd watch the cats as we took the big carriers to security. And as we left the room, I saw one of them peer down into Zac's carrier and say "Meow." That made my day!

Security was fine, the cats were totally peaceful all the way home, and when we let them out of their cages there were no dirty looks, no punishing hours-long absences. As if all was normal. It wasn't until a few hours later, at our wonderful friends J & H's glorious wedding, that J and I confessed that we only realized afterwards how much we'd been stressed about it all! The cats, it seemed, had no problem at all.

Next week: the cats on the aeroplane. Fingers crossed they enjoy their in flight entertainment and those little nuts they give out with the drinks.

A little radio silence

This may be the longest break I've ever had between blogs - 7 days. Wow. Just shows how hectic it is to move countries. We are busy packing, selling, giving away, storing... and trying to do everything as normal so the cats don't know what's about to befall them! Right now, one is wailing in her cat carrier, and the second, the one with the most suspicious nature, has disappeared - and we need to take them to the vet! Trying to keep calm. Calm. Calm. I'm sure he'll be back. Even TUNA, the big treat, didn't work. Too clever.

In the meantime, I have nothing writing-related to talk about, except that I haven't been able to concentrate long enough to do much of it. So here are some links:

• Margaret Atwood is blogging about her upcoming world tour for her new book, Year of the Flood - we will be seeing her in a few weeks. Apparently she is setting off today and traveling from Canada to the UK by boat:

"Packing for departure for the UK — Graeme Gibson and I are crossing by boat, thanks to Cunard, and I will preview The Year of the Flood during those days. The first dramatic and musical event is in Edinburgh on August 30 — Orville Stoeber the composer will perform in it. Then comes Manchester — two stars from Coronation Street are in the event! — and then London, Bath, Bristol, Ely, Cardiff, not in that order. All are fundraisers for the RSPB and for BirdLife International — It’s wonderful how people have been helping out. Click The Tour on this website to see all stops — the countries are different colours. Kingston Ontario is poised to go — September 23 at the Writers’ Festival — they have thrown themselves into the spirit, and are even designing recycled newspaper shoes, says Rumour! I will post updated info on the UK tour next."

• A new literary magazine is always welcome! Check out The Collagist's fiction and poetry.
  

Ok, must deal with feline-related matters. Wish me luck!

Quick roundup

We're away overnight, getting away from all the packing up still left to do before moving countries in 13 days, so this is just a quick announcement of some nice news:

• Two of my flash stories have been accepted for Pedestal Magazine's flash-only issue in August, an older flash and a brand new one, which is lovely - and they pay! I believe there are still two more days left before submissions close, so send yours off.
• I am thrilled that PANK magazine have nominated my flash story, Missy, which was published in their Jan 2009 issue, for the Best of the Net anthology! You can read the story here (scroll down). Congrats to my fellow nominees: Catherine Zickgraf, Caitlin Johnson, Lauren Wheeler, Brad Johnson, Stephen Mills, Peter Schwartz and my Zoetrope mate Tim Jones-Yelvington. Links to all their pieces on the PANK blog.

I've never been nominated for anything like this before, it was a wonderful surprise to wake up to this morning. Thanks, PANK!

Interesting short story discussion

There's an interesting discussion over at The Rumpus, where a blog post entitled "More Crappy News for Short Story Writers" brings us more of those quotes we short story lovers and writers have become used to hearing, from an agent writing in response to being sent a short story collection:

Publishers don’t like to publish short story collections in general unless they are VERY high concept or by someone very strange or very famous or Indian. In the current climate, it is harder to publish even those. Some of the authors I represent have story collections I have not been able to talk their loyal publishers into publishing. I can’t in good conscience encourage you to send them to me. It will just make both of us feel bad.

What is "VERY high concept"? And... he actually said "Indian"???!!

The writer of this post, Seth Fischer, argues wisely that

"The form of the short story collection is so uniquely well-suited to the Internet age. A good short story should grab you by the junk and make you yelp in that first line. So should good web copy. A good short story should be no longer than it need be. So should good web copy. I could go on. There are many very important differences between the two types of writing, but the publishing houses could be taking advantage of the similarities to develop a model that could turn a profit."

Exactly. He ends:

It seems to me that all it would take is a tiny bit of ingenuity to make money off the right short story collection. Why aren’t the publishing houses trying it?

I have been saying for a while that I see this attitude from mainstream publishing houses towards short story collections as a singular failure of imagination. If they have a marketing department that believes it is fairly talented at getting people to buy books, then why do they believe there is a whole swathe, no a whole world of books that they just cannot persuade anyone to buy?

The comments on this post are pretty interesting too, especially the comment that begins: "Could the problem be that many short stories are boring?" I encourage you all to go over there and weigh in....!