Stalking

rockpools 3Recently, I started to allow myself to believe that I may actually be a writer. For some time, I have  been practising calling myself  a writer at every opportunity – or, at least, on every appropriate occasion, such as  when people enquire as to how I fill my long, lonely days. I don’t go round just randomly shouting “I’m a writer!” in Morrisons – not unless I’ve had  a particularly stressful morning because I’ve broken a nail or something.

But calling yourself something doesn’t magically turn you into it anymore than calling your child ‘Duke’ or ‘Princess’ convinces anyone that they went to Eton. You have to walk the walk as well as talk the talk. I think it’s that way round – you’ve definitely got to do lots of stuff at once.

My writerly activities over the past fortnight have included

  • attending a local peer writing group (‘peer’ as in ‘person with stuff in common with me’, as opposed to Lords and Ladies) and starting preparing for a showcase of our work.
  • spending a therapeutic writing day in Whitby with LAPIDUS , exploring the theme of ‘journeys’ and learning lots from clever people who use creative writing to make sad and poorly people feel better.
  • watching an eclectic mix of spoken word artists perform thought-provoking work at the Electric Kool-Aid Cabaret. Not to forget my extensive networking at this event, especially after my (*ahem , *cough) ‘two’ glasses of wine.
  • catching up with a friend from my MA course over lunch. It’s a hard life, and we did make sure we talked about our writing – as this was  the stated purpose of our meeting – before descending into general silliness.
  • a telephone interview with Carole, lovely PR lady for Homestart Bridgwater, about my writing history and “future career”, so that she can send out press releases about my short story prize (I think I may have mentioned this somewhere on this blog at some point…)

So, I was feeling quite hopeful and reasonably switched on about the literary ‘scene’ when I attended a writers’ conference yesterday.

But,  as I listened to panels  of publishing professionals talking about  their full lists and narrow markets and millenia taken to bring a book to print, even when you’ve convinced an agent that you are worth a risk and the agent has convinced an editor that they are worth a risk and  they have convinced Sales and Marketing (*pause for deep breath), I was grabbed from behind and placed in a stranglehold by my nemesis.

Not the genteel, elderly Yorkshire lady with perilously pointy knees who was considering self-publishing her memoirs (although she did look like she may have a wicked streak)  but my old enemy Ms. Self-Doubt, who is starting to pop up in inappropriate places, at inopportune moments..

How do you know if you really ‘have something’, or if you’re as deluded as the authors who send naked pictures of themselves to agents, as a way of standing out in the slush pile ? (I am prepared to consider any strategies which will help me to the top of this game,  but you need to stand out in a good way. People of the Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook are safe, for now.)

No-one at the conference could quite put their finger on what makes a writer outstanding. After hearing vague talk about successful manuscripts with indefinable ‘special qualities’ and ‘something that spoke’, I almost felt desperate as the writers who apparently (i.e. according to  Twitter) shoved synopses at panel members as they made their way back to the station, back to London.  How do you know?

Looking back on my conference notes in the cold light of day (actually, it is warmish light, for once), however, I realise that all of the the speakers said (albeit in different ways, as they are creative, non-plagiarising folk) that it comes down to writing, and sending it out.

Amidst all this writerly activity, I am pleased to be able to say that I have actually been writing. I know – a writer who does real, live writing, and everything. Writing is the thing I like to do, and  have been doing, and do do – quite a lot, recently, if you must know.Before summer is out, it will be time to send Blues out there.

Ms Self-Doubt, I will be ready for you, this time.

4 thoughts on “Stalking

  1. Rachel Connor

    Well said Helen! I think you’re absolutely right. I reckon the ONLY way to stay sane as a writer is to focus on the process and produce the best piece of work you can. Thinking about the industry is a sure way to distract. You’re only a writer if you’re writing. And you, my dear, will ALWAYS be a writer.

    Reply
    1. Helen V Anderson Post author

      Thanks, Rachel. I need to print this very wise comment out on a little ‘affirmation’ card to carry round on my writerly personage!

      Reply
  2. shelley day sclater

    Great post Helen, and interesting to read about the conf cos i had to leave so early and missed nearly all of it! I think you’re right, it all comes down to writing and sending it out. And doing that again and again and again. And never giving up. And keeping on doing it. And trying anew every day to believe in yourself and believe in your work. It’s maybe not a bad thing that you can never actually KNOW whether you’ve got what it takes, whether your writing’s good enough, whether it’s what’s wanted by this place or that place at this time … maybe it’s good that you never actually KNOW you’re a writer, that you never actually know very much at all really, cos KNOWING might stop you in your tracks, might stop you finding out, might make you complacent, boring, arrogant … Maybe those things are far more the enemy of writers than any amount of self doubt!

    Reply
    1. Helen V Anderson Post author

      Thanks, Shelley. Beautifully put. You are right that self-doubt can be a compelling, positive force, as long as you don’t let it tip you over into self-loathing and despair (my particular, personal challenge!) The conference panels did seem to agree that the truly successful books are the ones written with real passion and an authentic voice. So I guess we just have to keep on writing what we feel we need to write, for the love of it, and hope for the best, in terms of eventual publication.

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *