Hampshire Writers' Society

Tag: writing

  • Children’s Picture Book – March 2024 competition results, adjudicated by Lu Fraser

    We were very lucky to have award-winning picture book author Lu Fraser as both main speaker and adjudicator for our March competition:

    In no more than four spreads of a picture book (less than 250 words) write something that comes from your heart.

    Announcing her decision Lu said: “Thank you so much for the opportunity to adjudicate the March HWS PB competition. Absolutely fascinating to see what everyone is working on! I changed my mind about 1st and 2nd place several times, but have finally landed… here:

    First place: To the Moon by Bucket and Spoon by Anne Wan

    Such a good opening spread! Very engaging with some lovely gentle humour and great illustration opportunities, too. Excellent set up of page breaks and I really like the use of questions to draw the reader in. Prose has a lovely, lyrical rhythm and I wanted to know what happened next when I reached the last spread.

    Second place: The Red Button by Summer Quigley

    Such a close 2nd place and such an original idea! I love this approach of normalising something that, despite being commonplace these days, may still appear confusing or scary to a child. It’s a lovely bridge between the generations, too, and an inventive way for them to communicate. Good rollicking pace and rhythm and some nice page breaks –  the kind of tale an illustrator could have fun with!

    Third Place: Me without You by Kate Abernethy

    Beginnings of a lovely concept here and I really like the simplicity and heartfelt tone – great, clean rhyming and read-along repetition, too. With the right illustrator, this could be very powerful and I can imagine siblings enjoying it hugely.”

    First Place: To the Moon by Bucket and Spoon by Anne Wan

    1. [Illustration: portrait gallery of Otto’s family achievements.]
      Otto’s family were famous explorers.
      His sister had crossed the Arctic on a unicycle.
      His Mum had sailed the ocean in an umbrella.
      And Grandpa had hopped up Mount Everest on a kangaroo!
      Otto wanted to be an explorer too, but where should he go?

    2. [Illustration: Otto is playing in a sand pit with his bucket and wooden spoon.]
      The mountains…
      The seas…
      The snow…
      It had all been done!
      He looked at his toys. He looked at the moon…
      and had an idea. He’d go …

    3. … to the moon by bucket and spoon!
      He was ready to launch when,
      “Stop!”
      “What’s wrong?” asked Grandpa.
      Otto hugged his teddy.
      “I’m scared! I’m not brave like you.”
      Grandpa laughed. “I often feel scared. It’s what you choose to do that makes you brave. Give up, or go for it?” He patted Otto’s shoulder. “I find it helps to take a deep breath first.”
      Otto squeezed teddy, took a deep breath and…

    4. …launched!
      WHOOSH!
      “Wow!”
      This isn’t so scary, he thought, paddling through space. When suddenly, into his path swam a bloom of…

    Second Place: The Red Button by Summer Quigley

    Spread 1
    [Ill. notes: Granny wears an emergency call button on a string around her neck in case she falls.]

    My Granny is old and she lives by herself
    I love to go visit, share books from her shelf.
    She wears a red button, it hangs from a string
    This button is such an intriguing small thing.

    Spread 2
    “Don’t press the red button,” my Granny would say…
    “The monsters will come from the forests to play.
    “They’ll steal all our cakes, and our chocolates ‘n’ all,
    “They’ll rip out the pages of books big and small.”

    Spread 3
    I laughed and said: “Granny you’re silly, it’s true,
    “It doesn’t call monsters, but what does it do?”
    Dear Granny would grin and just give a sly wink
    and speak of the dragon with wings black as ink.
    “He’ll come to the village to seek out nice treats…

    Spread 4
    “Like little plump children who smell just like sweets.
    “So don’t press the button, I need you right here…
    “To stop, Red-Cross Rose, who’s a wild buccaneer…

    Third Place: Me Without You by Kate Abernethy

    Spread 1
    [A big sister is going to school for the first time. The younger brother – the narrator – looks sad as he gives her a homemade good luck card. It has glitter on it.]
    Me without you is like
    Glitter without glue,
    There’s no sparkle or Ooooh
    When I’m unstuck from you.

    [The little brother, now home without his sister draws sad looking pictures in a blue colour of a ghost, a cow etc]
    I’m a ghost with no boo,
    A cow with no moo,
    Oh, I’m ever so blue,
    When it’s me without you.

    Spread 2
    [A grown up is trying to get the little brother ready to leave the house for an outing, but he’s in a muddle – can’t find a sock. There could be a clock in the background, and we also see the front door with the keys hanging nearby. We see evidence of big sister’s absence, such as her empty coat peg at the door.]
    It’s like missing a sock,
    I’m a tick with no tock,
    I’m a key with no lock
    When I do not have you.

    [In the park, the little brother trips on his laces, and is now even more upset.]
    I’m a shoe with no lace,
    I’m all over the place
    And fall flat on my face,
    For I really need you.

    Spread 3
    [The little brother stands at the school gates as his big sister comes out. He has scuffed knees and is scowling. Dark clouds fill the sky.]
    We’re like thunder and lightning…

    [A thunderstorm breaks out. The big sister holds out an umbrella and huddles under it with her little brother. He looks frightened, but she has her arm around him.]
    RUMBLE
    With you life’s less frightening
    And the skies,
    they are brightening.
    I am glad I have you.

    Spread 4
    [Now back at home, having got soaked in the storm, the brother and sister have a warm bubble bath together.]
    We’re the most perfect pair,
    Just like shampoo and hair,
    We have something that’s rare,
    I love being with you.

    [It’s bedtime, and the brother and sister are curled up together.]
    So wherever we go,
    Though we’ll change and we’ll grow,
    I just want you to know
    In my heart there is you.

  • Audio-Inspired Psychological Thriller – February 2024 competition results, adjudicated by Karen Hamilton

    Psychological thriller writer and our main speaker for our February meeting, Karen Hamilton, kindly gave her time to adjudicate our competition. The brief, a twist on our usual format proved popular and ensured everyone was suitably inspired. A reminder of the brief below:

    Follow Storyblocks link provided, listen to the thriller music samples on the first page and select a piece of music or sound effect which inspires you to write a 300 words psychological thriller piece. 

    Karen, prior to announcing said: ” I very much enjoyed reading them, thank you.”

    And the winners, along with Karen’s comments, are:

    First Place: Action – Chase – Car – Cello by Simon Meats

    “I thought this was cleverly written. I loved how music and instruments were used to create the scene, given that music was the inspiration for the competition.”

    Second Place: Messages by Frank Devoy

    “I thought the tension in this piece built up very well. I could picture the scene and sense the fear.”

    Third Place: I May Be Some Time by Syd Meats

    “I loved how the soundtrack of Tension in the Air was used to create a scene of claustrophobia and confusion.”

    Highly Commended: In Cold and Tender Water by Dave Sinclair

    “I thought this was very well written and of course, enjoyed the local names.”

    Highly Commended: Blue Leather Gloves by Maggie Farran

    “I enjoyed the twist at the end.”

    First Place: Action – Chase – Car – Cello by Simon Meats

    Herman Bernard was a professional cellist of modest means and an extravagant imagination. Convinced that he was being stalked by a black Citroen saloon, during rehearsals his thoughts became dominated by an internal symphony of autopredator obsession. Why he should be so targeted was a mere Macguffin, a decorative motif.

    Leaving the safety of his rehearsal, Herman discovered a full orchestra of paranoia tuning up in the pit of his innermost being. Lugging his quarter-sized coffin of a cello case into a multi-storey car park, steel strings wove their harmonies around Herman’s cardio-vascular structure like snakes around a harp. A bank of demonic violins menaced his spine, as though a squadron of delinquent seagulls were circling under the low ceiling. And there it was, the chevroned menace, its headlamps pitiless halogen pursuers, as recognisable as a human face, familiar and reviled. He knew that the stationary vehicle was waiting for him, imploring him to make a move.

    An internal brass fanfare accompanied the pair into a lift. Exiting at the storey below his hearse-like van, Herman anticipated that the Citroen had already swept upwards, seeking to corner and flatten him. But as he smiled a warm internal fugue, he saw the Citroen smiling too, advancing on him. As a sadistic pizzicato plucked his nerves, Herman charged the stairs and pelted for the ground floor, the heavy cello case propelling him downward.

    At the exit, with the halogen glare hard upon his back, Herman leaped in an aortic crescendo up some flimsy maintenance steps. As the Citroen approached below, he thrust the case like an inverted dagger down towards the windscreen, the cello’s metal spike penetrating the glass and skewering the fleshy mass behind it, splintered glass peppering the dark red paintwork. “Dark red,” Herman quavered, as a black Citroen slunk away outside.

    Second Place: Messages by Frank Devoy

    Callaghan’s office is bare and windowless – forty square feet of cellar below his east end taxi drivers’ club.
    The room sends messages; cash is precious, conversations are private, and there’s no escape.
    His overweight companion tries not to sweat. On the scarred wooden table between them sits a bottle of Macallan, seal intact, and two empty glasses. Another message; this is not social.
    ‘Five years? After pleading guilty?’ Callaghan asks, slow and low.
    ‘Caught with two hundred e’s. Fiscal said he’d want ten, if they wasted court time. Lawyer reckons out in three.’ Proctor shrugs.
    ‘Any risk to us?’
    The Glaswegian giant sits bolt upright, forearms flat on the table, hands clasped. His stiff white shirt, and tailored mohair suit, black as 2 a.m., emphasise the differences in physique and status. He lifts his glass to the naked light bulb, inspecting minor flaws, reinforcing the point that it’s empty.
    Proctor watches, pursing his lips. Involuntarily.
    ‘Er, naw. Lawyer says we’re okay, if they don’t blab.’
    ‘They won’t. They’re good soldiers. How were they in court?’
    ‘Like schoolkid shoplifters. Hope they’re better inside.’
    ‘I’ll send word in. We look after our friends.’
    ‘Aye, okay.’
    It’s Proctor’s second flippant comment, on top of an uncaring shrug.
    Callaghan tightens, almost imperceptibly.
    A noisy intruder breaks the tension, ellipses twice and lands on the table to suck sugars from a sticky mark. Finger to lips, Callaghan turns his tumbler upside down, moving patiently, into position above and behind the bingeing bluebottle.
    The outcome is already known.
    It takes off.
    Backwards.
    Into the glass.
    Callaghan rests the rim on the table.
    His tiny captive throws itself, crazed, against a wall it can neither see nor understand. Each time it lands, Callaghan taps the glass with a manicured nail.
    Toying, torturing.
    A drip of sweat runs down Proctor’s veiny nose.
    Callaghan looks up, eyes cold and grey as a corpse, and points at Proctor.
    ‘That’s what prison feels like. And it could be you.’

    Third Place: I May be Some Time by Syd Meats

    (Soundtrack: Tension In The Air – Jon Presstone) 

    The problem with whiteout is that it’s difficult to tell whether there is actually nothing there or not. He wasn’t delusional. He remembered the psychiatrist saying that paranoid people always believed they were being followed by the CIA or FBI, not MI5 or MI6, which shows how good the British are at keeping a low profile. In the case of the British Antarctic Survey, they had world class invisibility. 

    Dr Hitch had explained how any conspiracy theory was always trumped by the cock-up theory, but something was clearly wrong with this whole South Pole thing. What was it that they didn’t want him to see? Was it the fabled Ice Wall? The edge of the earth? Keith began to think that this whole Antarctic phenomenon was fake. The extreme heat and brightness were surely the result of inefficient studio lighting from a bygone era. He must be in a film studio, like the one they used for the moon landings. 

    Wherever he was, he desperately needed shelter from the elements. With nothing but white visible in all directions, even a hallucination at this stage would be a source of comfort. Suddenly he heard the clattering of a cooling fan as it sprang into action. At last there would be some relief from the studio lights. A serious industrial fan with enough power to cool a blast furnace. It was descending in the near distance, getting louder, bringing gale force winds to the vast expanse of nothingness. He watched it in profile as it staggered like a drunken dragonfly and fell like a stone. In seconds it was gone.

    Highly Commended: In Cold and Tender Water by Dave Sinclair

    Chapter 1 

    DCI Charlie Wykeham had received the poem three days before the body was found. Written with quill and ink, its coarse handmade paper contrasted sharply with the crisp, white envelope in which it had been delivered to Wykeham’s home address. The postmark indicated it had been posted in Winchester the day before. At the time, he had been both intrigued and mildly concerned but there had been no obvious action he could take, except to carefully file the envelope and letter in an evidence bag in his office desk. Now, as he walked past the boathouse and followed the river downstream, the words of the poem resurfaced in his mind. 

    While fields submit to winter’s white campaign, 

    clouds kiss and bruise the hills with grey, 

    the wind pins the sky to earth’s window frame 

    and I flee the town to climb my favourite way. 

    Atop the hill, the hard and frosty sward 

    is cut by dark and winding lines. I ask what strange, 

    mad maze is this, with only but a single path? 

    No answer heard, just winter’s wild refrain. 

    You could not know whose feet would trace your craft. 

    But now my steps between the frigid turf 

    decode your labyrinthine cryptograph 

    and bring me to the centre of your work. 

    And though you’re gone, I still remain, a mourner 

    To your death below, in cold and tender water. 

    After a minute of trudging through the soft mud and puddles of the towpath, Wykeham came to a small tableau. Stopping at the Crime Scene – Do Not Enter tape, he nodded to a uniformed constable who recorded Wykeham’s arrival on a clipboard. A figure dressed head to toe in blue coveralls emerged from the white tent that had been erected by the riverside, and seeing Wykeham, came over. As she removed her mask, he saw it was the pathologist, Dr Rebecca Ferguson. 

    “Early days of course, but there are several indications this may not have been an accidental drowning.”

    Highly Commended: Blue Leather Gloves by Maggie Farran

    We met in ‘The Red Lion ‘in Salisbury. Before that, there had been the usual messages backwards and forwards, that are all part of on-line dating. When I saw him, sitting relaxed on an armchair by the open fire, I was furious. He looked nothing like his photo. He was at least ten years older and three stone heavier. We spoke about our jobs and our mutual love of solitary walking by the sea. We talked about the murder mysteries we enjoyed reading. He boasted about how good he was at solving them, and how he always knew, who the murderer was, long before the end. Conceited men always fill me with hostility. I screwed up my fingers into tight fists and I felt my back stiffen.

    The next day he was dead. His body was found sprawled on the beach. He appeared to have fallen from the cliff edge. I felt shocked, but not sad. After all I’d only met him once or was it twice?

    I scanned the newspaper. Yes, it was him, although it said his name was Brian Grey. He’d told me he was Gary Taylor. Why had he lied about his name? Liars make me angry. You can’t trust them. Maybe everything he told me over that red wine was a fabrication.

    A few days later I felt compelled to visit the scene. I looked down over the cliff and imagined him falling to his death. I wondered how he felt in those few seconds before his death. Did he remember me sitting opposite him in the pub? I walked back along the cliff path and there were my blue leather gloves balanced on a shrub. A kind person must have picked them up. I hadn’t missed them, but I was pleased to get them back.

  • Antosh Wojcik: Creative Fusions: Collaborative & Multi-Disciplinary Approaches to Writing

    9th January 2024

    Report by Sarah Noon

    Antosh Wojcik describes himself as a poet, drummer and sound designer. He has joined us this evening to discuss Creative Fusions: Collaborative & Multi-Disciplinary Approaches to Writing.

    He begins by saying that some people are “quite nervous” about the idea of collaboration and he conducts a quick straw poll of how many of us are frequent collaborators with our writing – the vast majority are not. For some people it is simply because they are not presented with the opportunity to. Antosh points out that he is speaking to a room of writers and yet we do not collaborate with each other. He explains that for him, collaboration helps him prepare for what he describes as “brutal” rejection letters.

    His talk this evening, he tells us, looks at how collaboration can enrich the writing process and its product, and explores what can be unlocked within our writing by exploring fusions with practices and approaches from other disciplines. He shows us a slide, which demonstrates his three “collaborative forces,” labelled as his “Artistic Oscillation.”  His three forces are sound, text and time – something which he promises to expand upon later.

    Antosh explains that he has five mediums: Writer / Facilitator / Producer / Drummer / Sound Designer. He became a writer when he studied creative writing here in Winchester, where he gained a passion for poetry.  Of his drumming, he says, “… it is very physical and it takes you out of your direct space.” He goes on to say that, “I don’t think too much when I drum.”  He explains that all these mediums began to interlock.

    Whilst he emphasises that the collaboration of writers is not necessary, he urges those of us who do not collaborate to consider why. He then shows a slide listing the many collaborations with which he has been involved over the past 10 years. Antosh “threw himself”into any opportunity he could and as a result met many poets and musicians and other artists. He explains that he did this because he “wanted to avoid definition.” He quotes from poet Inua Ellams who asks, “What is your cage?” Antosh asks us to consider what our cage might be – for example, is it writing in a three-act structure? What is it that is preventing us from where we want to be?

    He quotes from another writer, Natalie Diaz who said, ‘I think creativity is a trap. I tell my students, call it tension, not creativity’ (Antosh interjects; “I just sabotaged my own title there.”). He goes on to suggest that there is tension when we work creatively, regardless of medium – including his talk with us now, (“Tension is in everything.”). Therefore, he says, he began to realise that “I’ve just been seeking out tension for a decade.”  He then shows us another slide:

    “Collaboration & multi-disciplinary approaches are means to create useful tension for your practice.”

    Antosh goes on to explain that collaboration is about “…play, failure … [collaboration] diminishes and empowers responsibility.”   He continues that collaboration is often “initiated by curiosity.” He urges us to encourage and protect that curiosity.

    However, we are warned that collaborations can be risky and they do sometimes fall apart, (“more often than they don’t, I’d say.”).  Antosh cautions that collaborations can make us vulnerable and we have to trust those with whom we are collaborating. Disagreements create tension, which has to be negotiated and “you need to know you can handle that interaction.”  This includes people such as editors and agents. We have to be able to develop “resilience.”

    Antosh exemplifies his definition of tension, by reading us one of his poems (to rapturous applause) and then asking us where we think the tension was (answer: when he came out of the performance momentarily to ask the audience a question, thereby creating a moment of improvisation – and an unpredictable response from audience members).

    We are introduced to the concept of a “game-poem” (a game that is equal part poem / a poem that is equal part game). The result being A Lake in America which Antosh created in collaboration with Joel Auterson. The player selects a poem and then rewrites it according to the limitations of its form, using collaborator codes and sound design. The player then tests and releases it. Antosh reiterates the importance of trust and vulnerability when working collaboratively and how these elements are an important part of a successful partnership. He also explains how there is a limit to how much control one has when collaborating and all parties have to be able to accept that. However, working on A Lake in America in turn led to other collaborations.

    When asked about the use of AI with his work, Antosh explains that he would rather work without it as he likes the possibility of things going wrong – the human element to it.  Although, he expresses that AI does have its place.

    He presents us with a slide containing images of soundwaves – sounds that he has created and then turned the waves into visualisations using software.  On looking at the images, which he describes as “beautiful,” he explains how he began to play with the images – for example, turning one onto its side.  He was inspired to use these new shapes as a form or structure for a poem. Because sound is “physical”, the waves can be used to give different shapes and meanings. “These shapes can inspire … ideas in themselves.”

    Antosh moves on to talk about his drumming. He begins this section of the talk by explaining a narrative he created about his Dziadek (his Polish grandfather) who had dementia which affected the way he spoke. He explains that the dementia manifested itself in a very physical way, which he found very interesting. Antosh tells us that he wrote about this at the time “in order to process it.”  To highlight and explore the physical side of his grandfather’s condition, Antosh used his skills as a drummer – as drumming is a very physical process. He explains, “…drumming is a way that I could basically, instinctually reflect Dziadek’s experience.”  This taught him, he says, not only about dementia, but also how art forms can express a variety of things.

    This work led to a project entitled Seder – a Jewish ritual held at the start of Passover. This demonstrates, he concludes, that working with one art form can often take you down avenues that lead to another art form.

    Antosh’s most recent art form and collaboration is film. He is in partnership with Xenia Glen – a Filipino film director with British heritage. Xenia has an invisible disability, symptoms of which are brain seizures. She wrote a narrative exploring what would happen to an undocumented person who has a seizure and was sharing a house with other undocumented people – a story based on Xenia’s own experiences. Antosh highlights the contrast between Xenia’s story and his own, describing his background as being very “protected.”

    “If you can ever get into a duo … I highly recommend it because you can have opportunities to try and draw stories from each other.”

    Antosh finishes his talk by discussing the idea of tension with time (“I’m in tension with time right now,” he says as he rushes to finish,). However, he reminds us that time away from a project “allows us to incubate it.” He adds, “Collaborations with other people allows us to accelerate it [time].”  He also reminds us that when we put effort into something that has not worked, “It is not wasted time.”

    His final point is that we are already in collaboration – with texts, with experiences, with each other. He ends with a quote that sums up the subject of his talk this evening:

    ‘So here, you see the ironies of history; history mocks us. It shows us that the things we thought people suffered in the past –they’re still in front of you. It says, you think you are writing about the past; you’re really writing about your future. In a way, though, history helps you see that everything and everyone is connected…’ Najwan Darwish

  • The Joy of Editing with Jill French

    Report by Sarah Noon

    Jill used to be an English teacher, has been a freelance editor for fifteen years, and is here to talk to us tonight about the joy of editing.  She is a member of the Chartered Institute for Editing and Proofreading. She is frequently asked about her role, and works with many debut authors. As well as talking about her experiences as an editor, she will also be giving us information about self-editing.

    Jill begins by explaining the several different forms of editing. The ones that Jill generally undertakes are developmental editing, copyediting and proofreading – “Not all editors do all of those”. She shows us an example of some editing she has done – a piece of typed text with handwritten words and symbols over it. She asks us to consider which one of the three types of editing it is.

    The first type of editing which is usually carried out, Jill tells us, is developmental editing (or “structural editing” if the manuscript is non-fiction). This is done early in the writing process.  She explains it as big picture editing and focuses on what we might expect to see for the genre, the expectations in terms of word count etc. Developmental editing also concentrates on the themes of the piece.  Here, she gives us an example of a manuscript she edited where there were fifty-eight pages, but the theme and its conventions was forgotten during the story. She reminds us that the theme has to run all the way through, but that authors sometimes lose track of them – not seeing the wood for the trees. A beta reader or an editor can help with this Jill advises, however, she does not recommend using a relative or close friend to assist with developmental editing as they are unlikely to be truly honest and objective.

    Developmental editing also concentrates on plot.  For example, Jill explains, there should be a clear character transformation within a romance genre. This gives the reader the “happy ever after” that they would expect.  Additionally, with characterisation, the writer should show that the hero or heroine has flaws. We are reminded that a successful protagonist requires growth. A developmental edit would also identify whether there is there too much information (“info dumping”) as this can effect pace. Dialogue and dialect also forms part of the developmental edit.  Jill explains that editors need to check for consistency as well as a balance between the dialect and phonetics, and ease of reading. There is also a danger, Jill warns us, of over-use of dialect becoming offensive.  She tells us that “…delicate conversations have to be had.”

    Jill advises that any writer paying for an editor needs to be clear what to expect in terms of feedback. For Jill, once she has completed a developmental edit on a manuscript, she usually follows up with Zoom call, telephone conversation, or written report for the writer (“the deliverables”). There is often “…a lot of tact involved,” She says. Using Tracked Changes in Word has become invaluable to many editors, (“These days we don’t do much on hard copies”). An editor may need to train the writer with this.  However, once this is done, Jill points out, the collaborative process becomes easier. There are things that should be negotiated before hand – such as double spacing.  Does the writer want each inconsistency or error pointed out, or is the writer happy for the editor to simply correct them as necessary.  The author and editor will often have an agreed, bespoke style sheet, agreeing such things as OK / ok / okay, or which form of English (US or UK?). The style sheet is continually updated throughout the process. Jill tells us how much she enjoys this, telling us that “This is the sort of thing that writers could embrace.”

    Jill talks about how some writers love editing (she gives Claire Fuller as an example). However, whether they like it or not, all writers have to edit and self-edit. She recommends that writers look at editing training or read about editing, even if they are not planning to become an editor, as this can help writers with their self-editing skills. The Publishing Training Centre offers several courses. Aces – US editing society is also worth exploring, especially non-fiction.

    Copy editing, Jill tells us, is often the main type of editing that writers want done. It often allows the writer to get on with the more creative processes. This comes once the developmental or structural edit is out of the way.  It includes spelling, punctuation, grammar, style etc. Conscious language use, she explains, is “…much more of a thing now.” Writers may use terms that are no longer appropriate for modern readerships. This can be a particular issue if writing a historical novel – the editor will work with the writer to ensure that words used would not offend a modern audience. Other copy-editing tasks may include chopping down long sentences, pointing out over-use of words or certain types of punctuation (Jill advises using the find and replace feature in Word to help identify this issue). Finding things like this is “…like finding a fossil on a beach,” to Jill.  As well as correcting errors, copy editors will also query character traits, plot holes, weak arguments etc.

    The final stage of editing is usually proofreading.  Gill reminds us that “…with writing comes proofreading.” She tells us that – “some writers love proofreading, others don’t.” Traditionally, copyediting is marked up in blue pen and proofreading is marked up in red pen. With proofreading “…you are looking for all the things that are left.” There should be only a few changes to be made by this point as it is near the end of the editing process. Proofreading should be a direct comparison between what author has written and what the typesetter has supplied.  Jill tells us that despite this, there is a lot of variation these days and there are times when proofreading is really more of a copy edit.  This is especially the case with the introduction of self-publishing.  With proofreading, the editor should be seeing for the first time, what the reader will see. These will include such things as widows and orphans (when there may be large spaces on a page).

    Reflecting back on the last 15 years, Jill says she has edited over 2 million words a year for dozens of authors. She tells us that writers are a lovely group of people to work with and she enjoys working with them. They are, she says, a group of people who want to develop their craft and want to better themselves.  

    She shows us a quote from Ursula Le Guin, which demonstrates this:

    “A writer is a person who cares what words mean, what they say, how they say it. Writers know words are their way towards truth and freedom, and so they use them with care, with thought, with fear, with delight. By using words well they strengthen their souls. Storytellers and poets spend their lives learning that skill and art of using words well and their words make the souls of their their readers stronger, brighter, deeper.”

    Jill says that “…if I can help get their words out there and get their novels out there, it really is a joy…”

    She enjoys collaborating with authors and meeting with other editors. She attends conferences, which she admits she did not used to enjoy in her previous careers, but does so now. Groups and organisations of which she is a member include the AIP, Society of Authors, and the CIEP. Membership of these enables Jill to “…network with like-minded people” and participate in CPD (Continuing Professional Development) opportunities, such as proofreading and copyediting courses. The conferences, Jill says, have led to many discussions. For example “…endless…” ones about AI and whether it has taken the place of editors. How much of a threat is AI? Have we been taken over? (“We haven’t yet, which is great.”)

    One of the guest speakers at a recent conference was writer and comedian Robin Ince who stated “…you can never have too many books.” Something that Jill tells us she was “…delighted…” to hear. He also advised that rather than getting distracted with such things as Wordle in the morning, we should take five minutes to read a book instead. He argued that authors have put a great deal of thought and care into the words they have chosen and that five minutes reading them is much better than “…looking at another cat with goggles on…”

    Jill goes on to discuss self-editing, recommending several books that might help the self-editor. One, by Richard Bradburn – Self-Editing for Self-Publishers and another; The Art of Editing in the Age of Convergence” by Brooks and Pinson. This is now quite old, but highly recommended by Jill.  She recommends several other books as well.

    So, where do we find an editor? There are many available and they all have different areas of interest. Jill shows us a slide with various directories we can access – all from the organisations she mentioned earlier.  She urges us to use them and tells us that the people listed take editing very seriously. 

    Jill leaves us with her email address, and I know many of us will want to follow up on the invaluable information she has given us this evening.

  • Ekphrastic Collage – January 2024 competition results, adjudicated by Dr Kane Holborn and Antosh Wojcik

    Members were very lucky to have two adjudicators for our January 2024 competition – our two speakers Dr. Kane Holborn and Antosh Wojcik. A wonderful new challenge was introduced by the poets in the form of ekphrasis. Both were very generous with their time and thoughts throughout the adjudication and feedback process.

    Ekphrasis definition: the use of detailed description of a work of visual art as a literary device.

    Introducing the task, Antosh said: “We’re going to broadly approach this type of writing. I see ekphrasis more as ‘creating a new piece of work from an existing work’ – so this prompt is slightly broader than the definition of the process.”

    A detailed brief was provided as follows:

    You are invited to write and submit an Ekphrastic piece of prose fiction, poetry, non-fiction or short essay.

    1. Choose three works of existing art. They can be from different artists or the same. They can vary in medium – you could choose a song, a painting, a film etc.
    2. Write a piece that draws from all three works.
    • You could use the piece to comment on the works.
    • You could write in response to the tones or the atmosphere of the pieces.
    • You may choose figures within the work to narrate or feature within the work.
    • You may derive settings from the soundscape/landscapes presented.
    • You may use the three pieces as transitions – i.e. Vignettes drawing on each work, poem sequences etc.
      All approaches welcome.

    300 words for prose.
    10-20 lines for poetry.

    Antosh and Kane were both extremely generous with their time and thoughts on their winning entries. Both were agreed on the top three, but each chose their own highly commended recipient.

    And the winners are…

    First Place: The Piano Has Been Drinking at the Fountain in the Garden of Earthly Delights by Syd Meats

    Second Place: Roche Court by Sam Christie

    Third Place: I am Iago by Geraldine Bolam

    Kane’s Highly Commended: Bedlam by Sarah Standage

    Antosh’s Highly Commended: Please Do Not Propose by Francesco Sarti

    First Place: The Piano Has Been Drinking at the Fountain in the Garden of Earthly Delights by Syd Meats

    Delightful, leaping, irreverent verse! The poem reads as though we are shot through the ages of contemporary art, explosive and riotous with its explorations of image and undercutting of those images. The title does its dues to set up the concept and tonal resonance of the ensuing piece. I clapped upon reading. A riot of a read, superbly composed, well done!

    Antosh Wojcik

    I feel as though I’m in a gallery, observing sculptures and paintings as I read your work), (in particular, The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymous Bosch) and this feeling emerges from the word go. Your poem mirrors the vigorous activities taking place within the painting. You throw image after image at your reader, assaulting their senses. From the juxtaposition of freezing rivers and cities on fire, you continue your fanciful poetic assault into your second stanza, not even giving us time to breathe. And this was what drew me back to your poem. Sublime madness at its finest! Methinks you are a Surrealist painter in disguise, masquerading as a poet. Job well done.

    Dr Kane Holborn

    The piano has been drinking, it staggers through its nightmare 

    from the left side of the triptych, where the duck-head man is reading

     to the music of the buttocks played by instruments of torture. 

    And it frolics in the garden, riding unicorns and donkeys, 

    feeding strawberries and cherries to the bathers in the lake. 

    And the rivers are all freezing on the far side of the water 

    and the cities are on fire, 

    and the water is a bloodbath, and the rabbit bears a stretcher. 

    And the piano has been drinking in the stomach of the tree-man 

    and the giant bird-head monster makes a feast of all the corpses, 

    and the demons need urinals in the shape of Duchamp’s Fountain. 

    The piano has been dancing its four-legged wooden waltz. 

    And you can’t find your artwork at Grand Central Palace 

    and it hates you and the gallery, and you can’t find the toilet 

    and the porcelain’s an artwork and R Mutt has signed his name, 

    and the newspapers are scathing, and the critics have retired. 

    The piano has been drinking, it’s a sculpture ready made. 

    The urinal has been drinking, not me, not me, not me, not me, not me.

    Second Place: Roche Court by Sam Christie

    In any ekphrastic work, a sense of place can be a powerful writing tool in
    conjuring the ekphrastic and you have eloquently framed your experience of a visit to Roche
    Court supremely well. I especially loved the way you brought your poem to a close as this is often a delicate space to write within. But your trio of rhetorical devices offered me a refreshing perspective which brought your poem to a satisfying conclusion. Bravo.

    Dr Kane Holborn

    A playful, dazzling poem, balanced in its introspection and leaps into the abstract!

    I love a bold opening line; ‘They say I’m a sensation…’ It does the work of lighting the fire for the reader when the title is so quiet. What follows is this deftly considered, musical verse that purposefully drifts into the various named works and sensations.

    Antosh Wojcik

    They say I’m a sensation, 

    Though now I walk down from the ha ha 

    Following Richard Long’s bone flint Tame Buzzard Line, 

    Tapering towards the second life oak. 

    In the Orangery my work hangs 

    Among a tinkle of glasses and low frequency reverence. 

    These canvasses are not of the grey ashtray weep of Mosul, 

    But the proud, infinite Nineveh Plains. 

    I’m shoulder to shoulder 

    With van der Beugel’s DNA squares. 

    Though my code is in sand and the rumble of F15s,

    His has settled as glass gallery reflections. 

    Belonging

     Rolling green 

    Do they need me with them 

    As living, breathing context? 

    Am I also the art 

    As well as the artist?

    Third Place: I am Iago by Geraldine Bolam

    It’s wonderful to read a work that is confident in its fusion of form! Part-essay, part-poetic-prose, part-review, the reader is invited to navigate these various figments of Iago and reflect on the core themes of Shakespeare’s great work. I think it’s innovative to reach to such a text and bring its context into different life/light through the work you have selected and the vignette form gives this piece a sense of fluidity through time. I recommend building further on this work!

    Antosh Wojcik

    This piece is an interesting beast of creative writing because it treads many grounds in terms of genre. Is it a poem? Is it something else? I didn’t know. At times, your poetic lilt bled into the realm of review and, subsequently, nonfiction. But your piece was refreshing in that it had no discernible genre.

    From ceramics at the V&A to Oliver Parker’s adaptation of Othello, you push the envelope and broaden the dimensions of your piece whilst maintaining your central theme: inspiration from the visual in a variety of forms.

    Dr Kane Holborn

    I am Iago. I am the mastermind of plot and subterfuge, the fulcrum at the centre of Shakespeare’s play. The Bard has given me immortality and my character has been endlessly speculated upon, my motives fully considered. “Demand me nothing” I had said. “What you know you know.” With the passage of time, I can be more helpful, but let art be my voice and your guide. 

    Let us start by looking at a piece of ceramic sculpture. The piece is Iago and Othello by Cyd Jupe. It is figurative, a wall piece of stoneware crank and red iron oxide. We are depicted as human heads, and I am whispering in Othello’s ear. It is a typical moment that captures our precious trust and intimacy. It reminds me of the time I discussed with Othello “Green Eyed Jealousy” and seeded some wisdom. Now let us consider a film. 

    How about Oliver Parker’s adaptation of Othello? He places me as a central witness to the action. There I am situated behind doors, peering into scenes, or hidden, all the while watching. The Director is masterful, look at the ingenious use of the chessboard anchoring my vital role. Some might say that it is Othello and Desdemona who are the chess pieces here and that I am the master operator. That is for you to decide. 

    So let us move on and try Othello the ballet by the American Ballet Theatre and the San Francisco Ballet. In one pivotal scene, we are returning from battle and the sailors are stretching and attaching ropes in preparation for docking. There are two groups of rope but within each group, tangles, and twists till they form an absolute web. 

    What I know about webs or being caught in one, I understand little, but I can say that the music is cleverly composed. The notes do not follow a straight line either but are equally discordant, complex, and twisted. I am simply entranced. 

    Kane’s Highly Commended: Bedlam by Sarah Standage

    I am a lover of poetry that leaps off the page and which is up the wall, and your work certainly achieves this. Your engagement with Louis Wain’s psychedelic cats is quite evident through your zany use of language. I enjoy how the theme of mental health is mirrored against and through Wain’s visual work as an ekphrastic device within your poem, which enlivens the themes at work. Bravo!

    Dr Kane Holborn

    A kaleidoscope of vibrant red, bright blue, xanthine yellow 

    cuts a scanned slice of neurological matter 

    or 

    Louis Wain’s cat? 

    Disappointment, fear and fury 

    picks up the razor 

    severs his ear 

    paints a self-portrait. 

    Strabismus dwarf squats 

    midst the Bruegel-type landscape 

    as the patricide axeman

    advances through the melee. 

    Genius or madman?

    Creative talent oozes while 

    Incarcerated in the asylum of the brain. 

    Antosh’s Highly Commended: Please Do Not Propose by Francesco Sarti

    Antosh’s Highly Commended: Please Do Not Propose by Francesco Sarti

    I was really taken with this work of flash fiction, which drops the reader so carefully into a considered, almost spiralling moment for the narrator. The works that influence the text are neatly embodied, even though they are disparate, the structure of the piece holds and draws such interesting colours and imagery from the art pieces. A quiet, vulnerable storm of a piece. Well done.

    Antosh Wojcik

    Inspired by: Casa Batlló by Antony Gaudi (Building), The Hateful Eight by Quentin Tarantino (Film), The Gruffalo by Julia Donaldson (Picture Book) 

    We enter the liquid corridors with squeaky shoes, rain bouncing on the scaly flooring, and this UNESCO World Heritage Site, this marvel of wavy walls and whirlpool ceilings is my refuge from a snowstorm, deep in the mountains, carrying a convicted murderer waiting to be hanged. We go up, almost floating, submerged by the tropical windows like schools of poisonous fish. Jody is in a rush to get to the dragon-like roof; but I delay him. I linger for unbearable stretches over the seahorse-shaped doorhandles and the azure crystals of the elevator’s buttons. That roof seems designed to spill blood. Blood can channel through the dragon’s ribs and tail, flushing inside a building with no straight lines, no corners, flowing freely over every feature better than a Roman aqueduct. Once on the roof, how will I know if someone’s hiding under my feet? Someone ready to snatch a shot from below—a deadly angle—right when I’m most vulnerable? As we ascend, like bubbles in wine, I remind Jody of his former girlfriends. The allergy-prone fox. The tired owl. The starving snake. He says our love would scare them off. But now I look at him: a grey, small, innocent mouse who survived a snake, an owl, a fox, and I wonder what he sees in me. I wonder if he’s got a pathological fascination with terrible tusks, and terrible claws, and terrible teeth in terrible jaws. I stare at this tiny rodent getting on one knee, right on the back of a dragon, on top of a house made of oceans, and I am terrified.

  • Storytelling and Imagination – December 2023 competition results, adjudicated by Adrienne Dines

    Novelist and Creative Writing Tutor, Adrienne Dines, had members laughing with the funny stories she shared during her talk on storytelling and imagination. Adrienne

    Write a 300-word piece of creative writing, taking inspiration from any of the following prompts:
    Season’s turn
    That one small light
    When you said

    Adrienne very generously took the time to speak with each competition entrant who attended on the night, and give them feedback on their entries.

    And the winners are…

    First Place: Butterflies by Julian Richardson

    Second Place: Just In Case by Francesco Sarti

    Third Place: Books by Sam Christie

    Highly Commended: That One Small Light by Damon L. Wakes

    First Place: Butterflies by Julian Richardson

    Well crafted, used dialogue and setting to move the story forward along both the plot line (building up to the bust-up), and the emotional arc (when he realises what’s lost after the last butterfly is turned).
    ‘peppery with the smell of ozone’ – great sense of place. Not just where it happened, but working as a character in the story. Loved the pacing in this too.

    Adrienne Dines

    The new fridge arrives on Monday. By Thursday, we’ve sunk into an unpleasant morning routine, bickering about it in the kitchen.

    “When you said it was big, I didn’t think you meant…” Angela points at the refrigerator, looming like a giant silver robot in the space where the dog bed used to be.

    “You wanted it!” I complain.

    “I didn’t mean this one!” Her eyes and mouth are narrow slits. I turn away and face the fridge. The installer left a row of colourful magnetic butterflies stuck high on the shiny metal door. I turn one around so that its little metal antennae face the floor. The three to its left already face down; the three to its right, still look optimistically upward, oblivious to the consequences of future arguments. What will happen when we reach the end of the row?

    “Are you ignoring me? David?”

    I do ignore her. I’m not stupid enough, or brave enough, to fight when she’s like this.

    I open the fridge. A wave of cold air flows over me, peppery with the smell of ozone. The glass shelves, half empty, are still clean, except where our son, Alex, has left a ring of chocolate milk next to a plastic-wrapped leg of lamb.

    Alex has a football game today. Afterwards, we’ll have a big dinner: roast lamb, potatoes, brussels sprouts cooked the way only Angela knows. A glass of wine, or two. Once, we might have snuck to bed early, and crossed our fingers that Alex wouldn’t hear us over his video games. Not today. Not this week, this month.

    But the roasts are really good.

    I look at the row of butterflies. I can’t imagine turning the last one.

    “We don’t have to keep the fridge,” I say.

    “Let’s give it a few more days,” she replies.

    “And these?” I pull the magnetic butterflies off the fridge.

    “They’re hideous, aren’t they?”

    I nod, and toss them in the bin.

    Second Place: Just In Case by Francesco Sarti

    Great use of a child’s voice to juxtapose the child’s perception of what’s happening on the surface with what he senses is threatening below. Sentence length varied for dramatic effect – this would be even more sinister read aloud. Great writing.

    Adrienne Dines


    It’s a fine balance, you know, and I can’t leave it to my little brother.

    This house’s volume is always shifting, like a bad recording of an action movie, and I’m always turning up and down the speakers to catch words or hide noises.

    I don’t have a remote for the house as I do for the telly, but that’s ok. I’ve learned to tinker with what I have.

    Sometimes I steal frying pans to use as weapons and challenge my brother to a duel. Our battles muffle the slamming of doors, the smashing of dishes, and the screams, when not too loud or too graphic, make up the sound of our imaginary crowds.

    Sometimes we play video games, and by the time we’re finished, our eyes are red and sore. I don’t like when he asks if Mum plays too, though.

    It’s not as easy when we need to be quiet.

    If whispers ooze into the corridor, or the couch rumbles with heavy snoring, like a dragon’s cave, I need to turn down the volume.

    I put headphones on my brother’s ears, let him stream a horror film on my phone, even if it’ll give him nightmares, and I wear my fluffy slippers all year round.

    There’s always something to do during silences. Especially at night. There’s always that one small light behind the plant, the one Mum keeps forgetting to turn off, the one that seems to shine for me.

    Sometimes I grab crisps and candies from the larder. Sometimes I swipe the floor from broken glass. Sometimes I place cutleries back in the drawer.

    Sometimes, though, when the silence is alive, and I know games won’t help, I keep a knife for myself, to store it under my pillow.

    Just in case.

    Third Place: Books by Sam Christie

    I think this story could be developed – maybe name the specific books and let the convos flow, but given the word count restriction, well done. I liked the story within a story (the lady of the house moving coffee table books/ what people in toilets read) – funny and irreverent.

    Adrienne Dines

    – Why are we here again? I mean, I don’t mind now we’re all together, I find it rather cosy.

    – Can’t say old bean, but it is better than rubbing shoulders with all the other unread classics in that draughty hallway.

    – Yes, it’s nice to slide up against the sexy coffee table number written by that famous singer. I notice that the lady of the house moves it from time to time depending on the type of guest.

    – Try being a coffee table book, mate. I haven’t been leafed for years. I am a totem, regardless of what racy nonsense lies within my folds. I have more in common with the knick-knacks on the sideboard.

    – You think you’ve got problems. Have a go at being a bog book, sitting for hours on the top of a cold, damp cistern waiting for someone to expose their backside and then continue to disdainfully peruse the first page. Notably, no one ever gets as far as to find out why E=mc2.

    – I think they’ve got a book with a corkscrew in it. It’s not even a book. Callously hollowed out as it is to provide literary based amusement during wine and cheese evenings.

    – Why are we here again?

    – They haven’t touched us in years. It’s all that flappy snap of those tablets and that weird pallid glow on their vapid faces.

    – I suppose the field of intellectual operations is wider on that big TV.

    – Er, this is all a bit odd, we’re arranged in a sort of pyramid. And we’re outside.

    – Yes, and what’s that glow? That one small light getting closer and closer?

    – That’s a flame, buddy. That’s from a match. I should know, I’m a 1970s science textbook; a veteran.

    – I am a history tome. This is not good.

    Highly Commended: That One Small Light by Damon L. Wakes

    I love the ending to this particularly. Byfleet the time we are better end of time in the third paragraph, we’re pretty sad but then.. that one small light. Great use of repetition for effect.

    Adrienne Dines

    In approximately 800-900 million years, increasing luminosity of the sun will have disrupted the Earth’s inorganic carbon cycle to the extent that all plant life dies, with multicellular life of all kinds following shortly after. In approximately 3-4 billion, the planet’s core will freeze and the atmosphere will boil. In perhaps 8 billion, the moon will shatter into a ring of debris, if the sun has not grown large enough to swallow it. But by the time this story is set, this is of no concern. By the time this story is set, these events are not even a memory.

    A hundred billion years or so more, and no map names Sol. Nor could anybody say where the Milky Way once ended or Andromeda began. As continents once crawled across an ancient sphere, so do these two galaxies crawl across the heavens: but rather than splitting, they form a new Pangaea. The people of this place journey between its stars, wringing iron from asteroids and fuel from gas giants in pursuit of new frontiers. But even this is still too soon. By the time this story is set, those frontiers have all been conquered.

    A hundred and fifty billion years in the future—more than ten times the age of our universe now—the sky beyond the galaxy is dark. One by one, all other lights have slipped beyond the particle horizon. All other lights, that is, but one. From the farthest reaches of the galaxy, against a backdrop of unbroken night, anyone can see it. But this requires the most powerful of telescopes, and it grows fainter all the time. To suggest this is another world—untouched and forever out of reach—is heresy. Besides: why would no histories record it, and why would there be just the one?

    But still those with telescopes look out and wonder: what is it?

    That one small light.

    That one small light.

    That one small light.

  • Advice and Resources for Writers: Publishing

    This post is brought to you by author and longtime Hampshire Writers’ Society member, B Random.

    You may not want to sell or publish your work. You may love blogging or just joining many writers in putting your work up on Wattpad for general consumption. Maybe you’re writing for the family. If all you want is a few readers, you’ve won.

    But if you are looking for a wider audience, read on…

    Writing Opportunities

    Selling short stories to women’s magazines is now pretty much a thing of the past but stories or articles still do occasionally sell to specialist magazines if you know enough. It’s tough.

    • Write short stories for free local magazines. You won’t get paid but it will give another confidence boost. There are some flash fiction anthologies you can contribute to, mainly online (e.g. Brilliant Flash Fiction/Flash Fiction Online) Look at past issues to see what they like.
    • Reviews are great practice and a good way to help others.
    • Why not club together with local writers and make an anthology, as one of our groups have done here in Chandler’s Ford? It’s a good way to sneak in poetry too.
    • Factual/technical articles to specialist magazines is still possible if you have the skills or experience, e.g. Food/Drink (supermarkets), Travel (airlines), Wellbeing, Parenting, Tech, Arts/Entertainment etc. Take a good look at past articles before you submit.
    • Write for fun! You could write custom prose or poetry for greetings or speeches on Peopleperhour or textbroker.co.uk. You could get creative; print, decorate and frame your work and sell it on Ebay, Etsy, Amazon or at Art fairs/markets.

    I have not gone down all these routes so take advice first and step carefully.

    Self-Publishing and Marketing

    Some of you will make it to the end of a book, like me. Well done!

    I used a course on Udemy (search for publishing) to publish on Amazon, following it to the letter.  I highly recommend getting on every one of these mailing lists for a constant stream of helpful advice. 

    Tom Corson Knowles  TCK publishing.com

    Mark Dawson’s Self Publishing Formula – just sign up for email inspiration and help

    Creative indie – Derek Murphy – Guerilla Publishing – download free e-book guides on all aspects of marketing/publishing – templates

    Dan Blank – We Grow Media – sign up to receive resources

    Derek Doepker – Udemy Coach & kindle author

    Joseph Michael – Scrivener Coach 

    Alinka Rutkowska 

    Whichever direction you go, know that your writing family is behind you, sharing your fun and wishing you luck!

  • Advice and Resources for Writers: Competitions

    This post is brought to you by author and longtime Hampshire Writers’ Society member, B Random.

    Build Confidence with Competitions

    Don’t be shy or afraid of them. They will get your name out there and if you place, they give you confidence in your writing. You can submit Flash Fiction, Short Stories, Poetry, even a whole novel if you have one ready, but make sure you read and follow the rules carefully. As I know well from my own experience, judging is always very subjective. It could just be down to the judge’s mood on the day so don’t take it to heart. If you have done a creative writing class you will know that everyone’s mind works differently and one prompt can spark a thousand ideas, and so it is with judges. 

    My recommendation would be to try the free ones first. HWS comps are a great place to start. Sign up for New Writing South and Writers Online who often list free ones too along with other local opportunities. BBC Writers Room is another place to keep an eye on.

    Once you have a few of those under your belt, aim higher and spend to go for the best known, prestigious ones with your best work, like the Bridport Prize, the Bath or Bristol Prize. There are millions out there, all set up to take your money for little reward so do your research and be canny about it. 

    Creative Writing Ink have a monthly free comp and a full list of international comps as well as help and resources.

    Good luck! 

  • Advice and Resources for Writers: Writing

    This post is brought to you by author and longtime Hampshire Writers’ Society member, B Random.

    Look after Yourself

    • Find a place conducive to concentration.
    • Drink – hydration is concentration.
    • Comfy chair with lumbar support, knees at right angles, feet flat.
    • Screen set so your eyes are central.
    • No distractions.
    • Read yourself into the mood.
    • Deep breaths to relax.
    • Don’t forget to get up and move every half hour or so, set a timer.

    Stuck?

    • We all have off days. Be kind to yourself.
    • Poetry is a powerful tool.
    • It’s liberating to free write; rant about the work, relatives or the state of the world.
    • It’s always useful to pick one character and write their childhood.
    • Sometimes it helps to derail your story.
    • If you write anything, the flow will soon burst through. That’s the quality stuff you’re after.
    • Remember, you are not alone. If all else fails, talk to another writer! We understand.

    Inspiration

    • Out and about, absorb what’s around you: atmospheres, settings. Think like a photographer. 
    • Take inspiration from people around you, odd dress, idioms, the smallest event.
    • Relish odd behaviour.
    • Eavesdrop shamelessly.
    • Indoors, try news stories. Think of the ripples that flow out from any incident. Explode norms. Twist expectations. Put yourself in the shoes of a Russian soldier with a broken tank, a stranded grandmother, a lost orphan. Alternatively, look back at old holiday snaps. 

    My Advice

    • Enjoy! (Bad vibes bleed through.) Indulge yourself in a scrumptious word feast. It’s good for you! 
    • Learn creative writing, make your work the best it can be. 
    • Write in scenes, like movies. Use your senses throughout. 
    • If you’re having a bad day, use it, write it out. Make it worse. Get ridiculous. Make yourself laugh. It’s therapy.
    • Join HWS and/or another local writing group. You could even form your own from classmates. Also join ALLI or SCWBI (for children’s) and use writer conferences.
    • Compete! Don’t expect to win. Judging is subjective but every bit of feedback is useful. Free ones first. Then go for the most prestigious, biggest ones. It’s all about your CV/exposure.

  • Advice and Resources for Writers: Support

    This post is brought to you by author and longtime Hampshire Writers’ Society member, B Random.

    Writing is escape, like meditation. It’s empowering. Enjoy it!

    Most important – join a writing group and get yourself a supporting circle of friends. Reading your early work out to a small group is harrowing at first but when you all do it, it brings you closer. 

    Wattpad is a great online writer resource anyone can use. It’s a great community to get feedback on your writing. Be aware that once you put it up there, it’s in the public eye and fair game for anyone else to use. So don’t post anything you want to keep to yourself.

    Artful Scribe – Arts Council funded Hampshire & Dorset Writers Development Agency, career devt, networking, business collabs and events, and free workshops – So: Write and Do: Write. 

    Joanna Penn – creative encouragement!

    Writers Online – lots of writing help and articles

    Writers Helping Writers – help and tips for writers

    Authors Publish Magazine – articles, publishers and competitions

    Inkers Con

    If you do decide to try an agent or publisher, be guided by the Writers & Artist Yearbook and get on their mailing list. Check out each agent/publisher and address your letter directly to them, making sure you get all the details right. Research goes a long way and a slip with a name can prove disastrous before they’ve even looked at your work.

    Write Mentor – paid courses for children’s writers – lots of support once you’re in and podcasts on the website

    Cornerstones Literary Consultancy  – Editors and other paid services with scouting to publish. Well thought of but expensive.

    Alternatively attend Writing Conferences and meet an agent in person. The I AM Writing Festival is right here in Winchester.

    Many large towns and cities hold a literary festival, so look them up. There are many around the country where you can hear authors speak for a small fee rather than a huge day/weekend charge. Many of them are still online and a lot can be found on YouTube.  

    Portsmouth Bookfest was bigger than ever last year, the Isle of Wight Literary Festival is just a ferry ride away, Worthing and Hastings are worth looking at too.  Exeter and Bath are within striking distance but so many are online now with You tube snatches available for free.  

    If you write sci-fi or fantasy check out comic-cons and Dr Who events. Southampton Comic con is due in July at the Ageas Bowl.