writing – Alison Runham

#NaNoWriMo – With Slightly Less No

November 5, 2015 by Alison Runham

If the title of this post confuses you, it’s probably because you’re familiar with the word ‘NaNoWriMo’ but not what the word actually stands for. If this is the case, I’ll put you out of your misery. No, not like that. I’ll just explain that NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month, so my ‘slightly less no’ reference is to the ‘Novel’ bit of the equation.

I wasn’t going to do NaNoWriMo at all this year. Why put myself through the unnecessary stress during one of my busiest months of the year, I asked myself? What did I have to prove?

Well, nothing. But since my current quest is to prove that the first published novel wasn’t just an anomaly, and that I’m not a one-trick wonder, it seemed that a target to get on with fiction and not leave it languishing behind the non-fiction Might Be No Bad Thing. So, abracadabra… word meters have once again invaded the right-hand sidebar.

However, you’ll notice that my goal isn’t to write 50,000 words of a novel, but to write 50,000 in total in November. I’m only aiming for 40,000 of them to be on the novel (although more would be great). The other 10,000 words will be offered at the shrine of non-fiction. I know they’ll get written because frankly, they have to be. It’s what I’m paid for.

Writing this had made me realise that not having a separate word meter for non-fiction is irritating me.

There. That’s better!

As of this afternoon, I’m a day behind on my total word count. That’s fine. I can live with that. Unexpectedly, tomorrow is going to be an all-day writing day, so let’s see if I can push that blue line eastwards!

Why A Retreat’s A Worthwhile Treat

October 25, 2016September 10, 2015 by Alison Runham

Last Thursday evening I got back from my accidental writing retreat to Bamberg – and if I tell you I was sad to leave, I think you’ll figure out it went well and I got over my guilt! I had a great time and saw some, although not enough, of beautiful Bamberg. I’ll have to go back. 😉

I actually felt more refreshed and inspired after my brief time in Germany than I did after our two-week holiday in Wales. Why? Well firstly, there was nothing required of me whatsoever. No shopping, cooking, tidying, cleaning, washing-up, planning, phoning or preparation of any kind. I only had two full days there, but for those two days, all I needed to do was get myself somewhere with food three times a day. That was it.

Well firstly, there was nothing required of me whatsoever. No shopping, cooking, tidying, cleaning, washing-up, planning, phoning or preparation of any kind. I only had two full days there, but for those two days, all I needed to do was get myself to somewhere with food three times a day. Luxury!

Secondly, much as I love my family, their ability to tidy up after themselves and organise their lives leaves something to be desired. From holidays to house insurance, PE kits to family visits and bath cleaning to birthday presents, it’s usually me that’s the organiser. There’s a rota for household chores, but often they have to be ‘encouraged’ to stick to it (with anything from a nudge to a full-blown nag).

So it was great to be away from all the responsibilities and distractions I find impossible to ignore – the empty juice cartons that can’t find their way to the bin, abandoned breakfast bowls that I’m compelled to take to the kitchen but can’t put in the dishwasher… because others haven’t followed the ‘help empty the dishwasher before you leave in the morning’ rule. It’s really hard to turn my back on the mess. I also work better when I’m alone for at least some of the time, and these days there’s a lovely but lethal distraction in the shape of Arty Daughter, who has finished college and been studying online for additional graphic design qualifications.

I also work better when I’m alone for at least some of the time, and these days there’s a lovely but lethal distraction in the shape of Arty Daughter, who has finished college and is now studying online for additional graphic design qualifications.

In Bamberg I managed to get some reading done, re-reading Joanne Harris’ Coastliners (supposedly to study objectively how she achieves her great characterisation and sense of place, but of course I got dragged along by the story and stopped paying attention). I also read Anthony Horowitz’s Sherlock novel, The House of Silk, as recommended by DS. I thought the beginning was a little slow but it rattled along at a good pace once I’d got into it.

Of course, I took notebooks and a couple of writing companions too. I’d finally started my lovely owl project book that Arty Daughter bought me because I thought starting a new novel seemed like a good use for it. The All Big Ideas Start Small is one of my two main ideas books and she bought me that too. I took it along because it had the outlines of two short stories in, but in the end I focussed on my novel and didn’t touch short stories.

As you can see, I took two of my Della Galton books as well – The Short Story Writer’s Toolshed and The Novel Writer’s Toolshed.

The little flowery folder is full of different sizes and designs of sticky notes, from page markers upwards – an ingenious gift from my aunt. Every writer should have one *the folder, not an aunt. They’re not compulsory).

I only had two full days in Bamberg – Techie Husband didn’t have to work on the last day and we could have spent the morning traipsing around Bamberg, but checkout was 11 and it was raining, so we would have had to drag our suitcase and laptop bags around with us in the rain while keeping an eye on the time, as we had to catch a train and tube to Nuremberg airport for our afternoon flight.

But in those two days, I wrote nearly 5000 words and read many thousands more – and enjoyed a meal out with my husband’s colleagues and two meals with just the man himself.

Or last meal was Italian and the meal out with his colleagues was traditional German, but our first meal out, when these pictures were taken, was of course at an Irish pub. Because that’s what you do abroad, isn’t it?

I had cocktails (I hadn’t even started this one, so there’s no excuse for the wobbly hand blurriness) and a very odd crusty salmon dish that was rather overwhelming after the halfway point. It came with hash browns, so the whole meal was unrelentingly and unexpectedly crispy.

I also had a humble lunch in the hotel bar, in the middle of a furious writing bout, as seen here on the right. (“We have cheese or ham.” “I’ll have ham please.” “Oh, we have something else… salami.”) They do love their parts of pig! I ate my choice of baguette while listening to English songs on German radio interspersed with humorously part-English adverts: “Burger King! German German German Chicken Special Longen!”

… And a not so humble lunch, on the terrace of a rose garden behind The Residence, high above central Bamberg.

This little beauty is a flammkuchen. It’s like a pizza, but far lighter and twice as delicious.

I soaked up sun, history and inspiration in equal measure, and got to spend some time with Techie Husband too – and we enjoyed having a meal, just the two of us, as we fail to do this nearly every year on our anniversary. Why? Because we’re usually on holiday with the kids. So it made up for a couple of lost anniversaries.

So was it worthwhile?

Abso-flamin-lutely (which is apparently now in the dictionary. Hooray!). I came back with renewed enthusiasm, no longer feeling my fiction brain was ‘ossified’ as Nicola Morgan puts it!

I’ll be going next time, if I can… 😉

An Accidental Writing Retreat

August 29, 2015 by Alison Runham

My name is Alison, and I have a problem with doing things just for me.

Not doing things by myself, you understand; just doing things and spending money on things that only benefit me.

So it’s not surprising that although I’ve been tempted to book myself on the writer’s holidays that Della Galton praises so highly, or the writers’ retreats that Nicola Morgan and Laura Wilkinson have both enjoyed recently, I never have – because it seems self-indulgent; a holiday for one, albeit a working one, that would use money I could put towards a week in a cottage for the whole family. Perhaps if I was a mega-bestselling author, then…

Before anyone suggests that I Have Issues and Need Psychoanalysis, there’s no need. I know where the roots of the problem lie, and as my husband will attest, I’ve got a lot better over the years at allowing myself to buy things that aren’t a) the cheapest option available or b) life and death necessities. I now, for instance, own more than one bag. It took me a while.

So. The writing retreat thing. Brief background:

Techie Husband often has to work abroad for a few days, and once when asked to do so at short notice, was told he could take me for free as a sweetener
I couldn’t go due to work, although it planted the seed of me/all of us going some other time
It was no real loss because his hotel was, as is so often the case, miles away from any pretty/interesting areas.

But recently he was asked to go to Bamberg and I made the mistake of looking at some images online and checking the hotel location, which for once is central, and not far from the river that flows through the city – a city that, if Google is anything to go by, is beautiful.

I was seized by Crazy. Could we all go and make up for our disaster-prone, illness-filled, wind-and-rain besieged holiday in Wales? There were even vegetarian restaurants for Constructo Boy, who is a pescaterian – something we’d presumed would be hard to cater for in Germany or Austria. I sent a jokey email to Techie Husband about it and shortly after the phone rang. “Were you serious? Because I need to book in the next two hours.”

I dithered. He looked up prices. Booking a twin room for the kids would be pricey at the same hotel; Arty Daughter offered to stay at a cheaper hotel but Constructo Boy wasn’t keen on that – or on having fun while his Dad would be stuck at work for hours, possibly including evenings (often, he’s overseeing the installation of IT and comms systems best started when other staff aren’t in the office).

So I said no, but felt sad. I’d been quite carried away. But it wasn’t fair to go without the kids – was it? I’d barely see my husband and it would only be fun for me… wandering the beautiful streets of Bamberg when I wasn’t writing… completely undisturbed… using the desk and free WiFi…. in the hotel room room that, unlike the kids’ one, was already paid for…

A writing retreat had landed in my lap and I’d said no. What an idiot.

My children started on the psychoanalysis, telling me that I deserved to sometimes do something just for me and that I should go (see – told you I didn’t need your psychoanalysis offers). So I texted my poor husband who got the booking changed (saving his company the sole occupancy fee), and booked myself on the same flights.

So what will I do when I’m there?

Wander.
Take in some sights and smells.
Learn something about Bamberg.
Be completely without responsibility to do anything other than write what I want for a few days.
What is that like?

Probably work on the new novel that’s brewing and two short stories I’ve outlined this week, and if they don’t gel then go back to this novella >
that’s been sitting neglected for the last few years, with a few gaps that together only need around 7000 words to fill them…

… I might even blog about it! 😉

The Write Space, or Where I Write Now

August 21, 2015August 21, 2015 by Alison Runham

If you don’t remember me telling you about moving my working space into the corner of the master bedroom, I don’t blame you. I’ve just looked back to the relevant blog post and found, to my amazement, that it happened back in 2012. I hadn’t had my desk assembled anywhere for a long time so it was great to have it back up, and to be able to use all the handy storage space it provides. In my post, I optimistically stated: “Hopefully my new ‘writing home’ will produce good results.”

But it didn’t – at least, not for very long. Because despite the way it looks here, with the benefit of flash and sunlight streaming in (only possible because I’d pulled the curtain right back, which meant moving all the books, as the desk obscured a good portion of the window)…

… it’s a dark dingy corner. There’s no view, no light, and behind me there’s a bed and the inevitable junk that always seems to be cleared from other parts of the house and end up, even if only temporarily, in our bedroom. Coupled with the fact that you can’t move the curtain properly… it just didn’t work, and being able to see my work desk when I was trying to chill and get ready for bed wasn’t exactly relaxing.

Gradually the desk was abandoned and I found myself sometimes working on a lap-tray sitting on the settee, but mostly working at the dining room table, which has a great view of the garden and oodles of light thanks to a huge window and patio doors.

But a while ago I decided that for the sake of my back, intermittent hernia, concentration, sanity and need for easily accessible, compact storage, I needed to go back to having an office – and I needed it before we could afford the garage conversion. So I excavated the spare room and my lovely husband reassembled my desk.
Ta-da!

A far brighter room (no flash required!) with a view over the houses and the green space opposite, so that I can have a stare out the window if I want. It’s given me a work space that I can shut the door on if I want, and there’s a laptop dock so that I can use a keyboard and monitor at the right height. The bed-settee below squeezes in beside the desk, providing a thinking chair and somewhere for the kids and him indoors to sit when they arrive home and want to chat about their day – and if we have guests, there is just room to move it and open it out in the space in front.

This is a good thing as the bed settee was called upon not soon after, when my friend was taken into hospital and her boys had to stay for a while. But I’m back in now and it has made the world of difference. All my bits and pieces are just where I need them…

…including essential books.

And any that don’t fit on the desk are on a dedicated bookcase. Hooray!

As a finishing touch, there’s room for my lovely magnetic calendar with all my deadlines clearly marked, so that it’s easy to see where I can fit in other work.

The room has a lovely feel to it and when I’m there, I’m productive and focussed – and not tempted to answer the phone in the middle of a work session because it’s too far away, so it saves me from the curse of the cold-callers too.

Although I can write anywhere when I have to – I do this as a job, so there’s no time for waiting for inspiration in a garret – this really is the Write (pun completely intended) Space.
Where’s yours? 🙂

Can You Teach Someone To Write?

November 27, 2014 by Alison Runham

You know, write. Not as in ‘form letters’ – you can definitely teach that!

Amongst writers, it’s always a bit of a debate – and there are lots of quotes from writing tutors claiming, somewhat paradoxically, that you can’t teach someone to write. It’s the old ‘is it a gift or a skill’? controversy. This article is a discussion with three authors on learning to write and teaching writing, whilst this list of tips from the Scottish Booktrust on getting ideas flowing is useful if you teach writing. They’re designed with a school class in mind but they’d work equally well in any creative writing class.

So what do I think? Well I think it’s like carpentry.

No, bear with me. My point is that you can teach carpentry to a group of people and they may all become reasonably competent at joinery and construct perfectly serviceable, well-made cabinets. But will all of them want – or be able – to craft something beautiful? Something that requires inspiration and imagination; that’s off pattern? Or work that has a quality that in some way raises it above the rest?

The answer is – I think – no. And I believe writing is much the same. You can teach most people to string together a grammatically correct, understandable sentence. You can teach them the theory of fluency and flow; about metaphor and simile. But will those ideas come into their head when it comes to imagining a story, and will they be able to translate their ideas into the written word in a way that does them justice? And will they have the staying power to persist until every sentence is polished, or will their work always remain a rough diamond? I’m not convinced they all will.

So what do you think? Can good writing be caught or are some people just gifted?

R is for Relevant:

October 24, 2016April 22, 2014 by Alison Runham

Relevant: Having a bearing on or connection with the matter at hand.

Writers, you’ll be pleased to know that this post is relevant to you. That’s not even a pun.

The first interesting hit I got for relevant – and I emphasise, interesting – was this:

Young, Fresh and Relevant

is a yearly open submission journal with the aim of carving a space for writing within the visual arts. YFR hopes to be accessible for a new generation of young (in their practice rather than age) artists who may never have had their writing published, as well as aiming to attract practitioners who are more familiar with the Art Writing / publishing scene.

The editors say ‘There is currently no open call but email us anyway with texts, images, questions or invitations.’

The journal is available from a select group of libraries and bookshops in London, Glasgow. Ghent, Berlin and Tokyo – addresses are on the home page.

And as I’m behind again – that’s all, folks!