Macmillan New Writers

At the end of August/September this blog will cease. I’ve made that decision based on how I wish to concentrate my writing energy in the future, and coming up with blog entries on a regular basis doesn’t feature in those plans. The Macmillan New Writer blog was meant to last only 18 months or so during that great adventure of being published for the first time, whilst covering the writing of my second book.
Both are about to come to a natural conclusion.

However, as discussed with David Isaak, I’m looking to replace this blog with something that all the Macmillan New Writers can post entries on without feeling obliged to post all the time. Something like a collective Macmillan New Writers blog, but this will depend largely on whether any of the MNW authors would want it.

So why build a new blog at all?

I enjoy blogging - at times I find it compelling (I concede I’m addicted to writing). And the lull between blog entries is like having an irritating itch. Seeing nothing new on my own blog has on occasion driven me to write something disposable, irrelevant, and a complete waste of my time. In other words, writing when writing is not required nor inspired.
Afterall, there’s nothing more annoying than a blog that just dies without warning. You kinda feel like you’re hanging around on the phone when the caller has already put down the receiver, or the last one at the party when even the host has gone home.

A communal blog means I can throw in the odd entry here and there without the blog gathering dust, as hopefully other MNW authors will toss in the odd entry or two to keep it going, not to mention the new blood flowing in as and when debut authors are added to future publishing dates.

As David suggests, I envisage a one-stop shop for the MNW bloggers, a platform to share the whole debut experience, and somewhere to promote their books. I’m getting kinda handy with the blogging template so it will have thumbnails of all the books listed on the side bar and links to the authors’ various blogs and websites if they’re still running.

So let’s talk timescales. I’ve already registered the name “Macmillan New Writers” and marked it as a BETA site. As yet I haven’t much time to spend developing it, but that should change at the end of July when the 4th draft of the new book is done. So by the time this blog ceases (by the beginning of September) the Macmillan New Writers blog should (fingers crossed) be up and running.

If any MNW authors out there are interested, make sure you have a Blogger account and send me your e-mail address…

12 hours

Well, the last couple of blog entries have been… well, attracting various new readers looking for more information on Sheffield’s floods.

When I wrote them I had no idea the flooding would be this extreme. Indeed, the last one was written at lunch-time yesterday when the full force of the flooding had yet to be felt here.

It’s been a mad 12 hours.

We count ourselves lucky – we live on top of a hill, one of the highest hills in Sheffield – Broomhill to be exact. Apart from the “streams” running down the Manchester Road there was little to effect us way up there. Sarah – quite valiantly – attempted to get to the Northern General Hospital for a night shift, but was only able to travel one mile between 8 and11pm before being turned back by the police when all hell broke loose on Rutland Road by the river.
It wasn’t just the rain though – trees were felled, a major fire broke out around the Meadowhall area and commuters were blown away as gales whipped up the streets from their abandoned vehicles. The A57 through Broomhill was littered with the skeletal remains of umbrellas that just didn’t make it home.

Yet this morning - around our side of town at least - apart from infrequent bus services and the mangled remains of a tree set aside the university road, there was little to show for it. The waters had receded, the sun was out.
It was also eerily quiet for a Tuesday morning - I think there are some who are still stunned by the severity of what has been the wettest day on record here.
And it's not over yet. One of the city's reservoirs is about to burst - the city's major powerstation along with it. We're expecting black-outs across the city - the Northern General Hospital is sounding another major emergency.
So this quite surreal situation is set to continue - hopefully only for a short time.

But Sheffield people are nothing but resilient. Depending on whether the problem is compounded by more heavy rain, the city will recover and recover quickly. That’s just how we are here.

As for the writing project in October... I stopped someone from saying “life imitating art” last night. My reason is that The Isles of Sheffield will deal with something a little more catastrophic than what we experienced here over the last 24 hours.
But seeing what a mess one months rainfall in one day can do to a landlocked city, it makes me shiver to think what chaos a flood of biblical proportions would cause here.

The Isles of Sheffield is meant to be escapist fiction.
Hopefully it will remain that way.

It’s not so muddy, being creative

Ah, Glastonbury. Synonymous with sludge, dodgy food, great music and porta-loos that would usually only be found in the darkest regions of Hell. It was watching this weekend’s mud-fest from the dry surrounds of my arm-chair that cast my memories back to good ol’ 1994. And yes, bloody hell, that was 13 years ago.
It was also the year I made my only jaunt down to Somerset during my summer-of-festivals-thing that saw me at the Phoenix festival and several Heineken festivals in the same year.
And 13 years is a lot of difference – in terms of weather and music.
Glastonbury 1994 was scorching hot. The ground was rock-hard, not this brown slurry I noticed this weekend. On the down-side the porta-loos smelt utterly terrible, steaming pretty much from Friday onwards, with the only respite of aroma during the mild nights which were spent sat in shorts around the fire drinking cheap lager and smoking suspicious substances.

The music was amazing, however. I mean, imagine sticking the following bands on the same bill today: Oasis, Blur, Radiohead, Orbital, Manic Street Preachers, Pulp, The Pretenders, Paul Weller, James, The Beastie Boys and Bjork… I’m not saying this year’s line-up was inferior, but for a line up like 1994, I might consider standing in a foot of mud again.

A Glastonbury Alternative

So what did I do this weekend while others half my age were standing in a boggy field in their waterproofs? Writing of course. I’ve progressed through a quarter of the 4th draft, and have let three guinea-pigs read what I’ve written so far. One of these is Louise, my sister, a quite fastidious reader who is unpicking each chapter highlighting typos, continuity errors and things that perhaps make little sense to someone more objective. It will add that little ounce of confidence to the whole thing when I submit the book to Macmillan New Writing.

And then there’s the title. I still haven’t decided on one, but there are now three short-listed monikers:
The Burning Sands of Time
The Soldiers of Fire
Eyes of the Rassis

I guess one of these will make it (unless someone comes up with anything better), and if MNW do publish it, I guess - like David - the whole title thing will be batted between Will and I until we settle on something.


Re: last blog entry

It’s still raining in Sheffield.

I’m buying an O.S. map of the city and surrounding areas, i.e. Peak district and South Yorkshire, this week.
I will be shading in all the flooded areas in blue for the next writing project, which is almost definitely going to be The Isles of Sheffield (to commence late October).

I might be sometime.

It could happen, you know…

During the penultimate scribblings of the 3rd draft of the current book, Sarah interrupted me last Friday with the news that Sheffield was flooded. My first reaction was “yeah, right… Sheffield is built on several hills…” but like some giddy kid I dashed out of the study and took a look for myself.
Sheffield had indeed flooded, or rather partially – Ecclesfield and Chapeltown under several feet of brown water and witnessing those scenes usually attributed to say York or Worcester and their perennial flooding (i.e. the fire-services ferrying stranded homeowners down the main street in inflatable dinghies).

The flooding came barely days after my conversation with Sarah regarding a new writing project for the Autumn/Winter…

…You see I’ve decided to delay The Fortress of Black Glass (the follow-up to the follow-up of The Secret War) until maybe 2009, depending largely on whether the second book gets published (though not solely – I’ll still write it regardless). So I’m looking at an interim project and there have been several mooted in this blog already. One of these is a project entitled The Isles of Sheffield – set forty years from now featuring a feudal state where the UK and the world have witnessed the most devastating floods in history. The city of Sheffield is largely under water and reduced to an archipelago governed by this guy called First Minister Benjamin who resides in what is currently the University of Sheffield buildings. The main street has become something resembling a tawdry Venice, the hills have become islands and are bridged primitively or only accessible by boat, and the city even has it’s own navy.

The full structure of the book is still under wraps, but I’ve planned it as a circular collection of stories about the city’s inhabitants involving gangsters, ministers, brothels, assassinations, battles with Welsh pirates and the threat of war with the City of Buxton - all revolving around my home city under many feet of water. An idea that was, until recently, quite removed from reality.

I even remember joking to Sarah that “yes, Sheffield flooding to that degree certainly would be escapist fiction.”

Now I’m not so sure.

Progress

It’s been a busy week. Firstly, the 3rd draft is now complete – two weeks ahead of schedule. And I’m happy – very happy with the way it’s gone. Considering the first draft was a bit of a mess, the almost entirely re-written 2nd draft needed very little revising. What I have changed are turn-of-phrase, speech and some descriptive passages. I’ve also tightened the plot slightly, and the more overt fantasy/science fiction sections have been blended into the main plot without the jarring that occurred terribly with the first draft and less in the second.

And in the spirit of celebration for the end of the 3rd draft - as in David Isaak’s and mine comments to Lucy’s 20 questions about her (click here) - Sarah and I went out for a meal and a film (Ocean’s 13 – not overly challenging, but fun) and I bought myself a printer to replace the dead one that’s been gathering dust in my study (in the spirit of Roger Morris’ Taking Comfort – which I’m currently reading – it’s a Cannon Pixma iP2500, and does the business!).

Yeah, I’m really happy with the way it’s gone. And without much ado, onto the 4th draft. The first three drafts were done entirely on the trusty laptop, but with the 4th I go to paper. There’s something about reading your printed words that brings into focus the writing – especially the flaws. After all, the book will probably only reach you gentle reader in the printed form. Not to read a printed version will be like the digital photographer entering a competition without seeing a printed picture, or the musician never listening to one of their CDs. It just seems – well – wrong.
After the 4th draft, a copy will be sent to Louise, my scrutinising sister who will pick up any other flaws, before a mad rush of a couple of weeks and then I submit it to Will at Macmillan New Writing no later than 24th August (a self-imposed deadline, but I promised Will it would get to him this summer).

Apart from the new book, I have a date pencilled in for a live interview and chat about the whole Macmillan New Writing thing at the Bakewell Art’s Festival (click here). I’ll be speaking on August 7th, and while the details still require confirmation, it will start roughly around 7:45pm, followed by an unplugged band session (tbc) as part of the festival at 9pm.
The talk will be structured around my experiences with MNW, the process of writing, as well as the new book (which I’ll be reading from), followed by a Q&A with the audience and probably a signing. Once I know more, I’ll post details here and the website.

Finally, as I go through the process of drafting the new book (and making a decision on the title!) I’ll be considering the future of this blog.
For me, this was only going to be a short-term thing and after I submit the sequel to MNW, I might decide to call it a day and go through another medium, perhaps My Space, perhaps a completely new blog. We’ll see. I’ve learnt a lot through the blog – from those regular and not so regular commentators, and just because I might not blog after the 24th August doesn’t mean I won’t be dropping in on everyone else’s.

I will of course keep the blog going until then.

And of course, I’ll write a final blog entry on whether or not Macmillan New Writing accept the new book.
Not to do so would be just “mean”.

Hardback, Paperback and E-back

I had a conversation the other day about The Secret War and the whole issue of publishing it in hardback. The argument – sorry conversation – centred around price, or rather cost to the reader, and while the discussion wasn’t vociferous it did raise a few valid points about format.

At the moment there are three distinct formats for the good ol’ novel – four if you include softback, or five if you include audio (but I’m confusing the issue, so let’s go back to three, shall we?)

The humble paperback is the cheapest means of reading – apart from borrowing from the library or stealing. Depending on the volume of pages, it can be flexible, some can still fit in your back pocket if you’re that way inclined; they’re instantly transportable, cost very little in the great scheme of things (especially if bought second-hand), and if you’re prone to treating your possessions with neglect, see the last point. Ruining a paperback (which is easily done) isn’t going cause you to weep (unless it’s a signed first edition). It’s also a format where you might be tempted to experiment and make a speculative purchase knowing bugger-all about the author or the book. If it’s crap… well, that’s just a mere fiver or so down the drain. The cost of 2 pints of beer, or 1 if you live in London.

The hardback is the Rolls Royce of formats – the sturdily bound book with the dust jacket, almost guaranteed not to fall apart unless you drop it in the bath. It’s the format that weighs as much as the words – a format that makes you feel like you’re reading something epic… Yes, that’s it: an epic format, like watching a film at the cinema rather than watching it on ITV with adverts. And if you’re lucky to be published by Macmillan New Writing, that cinema is Leicester Square: MNW books are immaculately presented with a ribbon, a great typeface - and typos apart - it’s one of the best examples of hardback publishing around.
But it comes at a price – the same price as a round of drinks, or maybe a round of drinks for three people if you live in London – and maybe just one if you go to those really poncey places… (you get the picture).
A reader is less inclined to make a speculative purchase on something that costs on average twice as much as a paperback, something they won’t want to read in the bath for fear of accidents, nor something too bulky to take with them on the bus. Ever tried reading the hardback version of Lord of the Rings on the daily commute? Don’t try it unless you’ve hands the size of shovels and aren’t prone to hernias.

So apart from Mr Shovelly Hands MD, who else will buy hardbacks? Well, anyone who adores certain authors. For me it’s Clive Barker – without fail I’ll buy his books in hardback. I might even buy hardbacks of previously unread authors at your local remainder bookstore, because they are on occasion as cheap as a paperback (I bought China Mieville’s Iron Council that way – a first edition that was even signed – all for a couple of quid less than the paperback retail).
But go into a bookshop and see a new author in hardback and ponder a purchase? It’s a tall ask I grant you – hence why I suspect the MNW print runs are relatively small. So why publish them at all in hardback?
Well, I think it’s down to two things: collecting and prestige. The hardbacks are going to appeal to certain sets of people. Firstly it will appeal to friends of the author – someone who has a connection to the writer and doesn’t mind shelling out muchos dosh for a copy. These numbers aren’t going to be high, though.
Next there’s the collecting risk-takers – those buyers who might be thinking they have a new Cornwell, Grisham or King in the making and a signed, high quality first edition hardback would be worth muchos money later in their careers. For example, signed copies of The Secret War have already changed hands at around £50 – which is ego-inflating, yet also bewildering.
Then you have those where money is no object: those who like the idea of the book and have enough cash to make a speculative buy.
Finally you have those who are buying it through recommendation. That could be through a review in newspapers/magazines, t’internet or usually from recommendations from friends, i.e. word of mouth (but then you have the chicken and the egg scenario unless those friends come from the three previous groups of readers).

Adding that all up… unless you’re really, really lucky and the publisher has thrown muchos advertising money at the whole thing, you’re not really going to make muchos moolah from your first novel.

As a debut writer published in hardback, there is a conflict. You want to entice the reader into buying your book – usually speculatively. You want to reduce as many barriers as possible, that means getting the book in as many shops as you can. And you want it to sell – because if it sells, then the closer you come to realising that dream: writing full-time.
But there’s something about being in hardback that makes it feel – well - special. It’s an impressive looking format – and more – it’s a format that’s built to last. I will never have the problem in years to come of having to trawl bookshops old or new for copies of The Secret War, because mine are falling apart through wear and tear. My copies will last for years and years – Armageddon apart – and will be handed down through generations of family. The hardback is a deep footprint – sometimes in concrete – rather than a fleeting one on the beach. That’s why I would still choose hardback over paperback - as a writer – ‘cos it is not only about the sales.

I guess this view could change if I never see The Secret War in paperback – other than Wachter der Schatten. If that obstacle to reaching further readers is never removed then I will see it as a missed opportunity. But we’ll see. Nothing is certain.

And as for the e-book… Well, that’s less certain than most. We’ll just see what happens with this, as we will with Google Book Search. Electronic is all well and good, but you can’t read an e-book in the bath unless you happen to be Mr Shovelly Hands MD with stacks of cash to spare, where the odd accident with your e-reader won’t be a catastrophe…

(…but still I wouldn’t advise it!).

Wächter der Schatten… again…

“Gut gegen Böse: der ewige Kampf der Menschheit gegen die Mächte der Dunkelheit

Seit tausenden von Jahren tobt auf der Erde ein verborgener Kampf zwischen Engeln und Dämonen, Vampiren und Rittern um die Zukunft der Menschheit. Die beiden Soldaten William Saxon und Kieran Harte ahnen nichts davon, als sie nach den Schrecken der Schlacht von Waterloo auf dem Schlachtfeld eine kleine goldene Pyramide finden. Aber dieses unscheinbare Schmuckstück ist das Gefängnis eines gewalttätigen Dämons. Nur den Priestern des Vatikans kann es gelingen, das Geschöpf der Hölle für immer zu bannen …

Spektakuläre Schlachten zwischen Vampiren und Engeln und zwei Freunde, die dieses grausame Abenteuer nur gemeinsam bestehen können.”

This was taken from Random House’s German website (Goldmann) I’m not entirely sure what it all means, but this is really for the benefit of any Deutsch visitors who happen this way (there’s been a few already). I reckon it probably means this (or there abouts):

“The year is 1815, when angels and daemons walked our streets . . .

For thousands of years a secret war has been fought between Heaven and Hell. Daemons and angels, vampyres and knights, clash for the future of mankind, and as the two sides wage war across the world, innocent people are caught up in the conflict – men like Captain William Saxon and Lieutenant Kieran Harte, two great friends who have recently survived the horrors of the Battle of Waterloo.
But now they face a greater struggle, against the daemonic forces of Count Ordrane, and the clandestine ambitions of the Vatican. They must try to survive assassination attempts, political machinations, epic battles on land and sea, and above all the power of a mysterious bronze pyramid – the Scarimadean – that brings everlasting damnation to all who come into contact with it.
Their only allies are an old man, a fading secret organisation in the Church, and an enigmatic warrior, who may hold the key not only to the friends’ fates, but to the fate of all mankind . . .”

I could be wrong though!

Just ask, and I will answer part III

…I forgot to mention in the last blog entry that if anyone has a “burning” question to ask around the books i.e. The Secret War or new projects, around Macmillan New Writing or anything of remote relevance to this blog, just add a comment below and I’ll answer them from time to time during breaks in the 3rd draft .

(Like most of my ilk I aim to be transparent about the whole publishing process as possible – unless it’s about how many books I’ve sold. I won’t know that until September…!)

And at some point in the next couple of weeks, I’m going to approach the subject of Google Book Search. I’ve got my own opinion on this, but if anyone else wants to start the debate, please, be my guest…

Agent Handover

Right then. I’m going to cheat for the next week while I dig deep and break the back of the third draft. It’s going surprisingly well (too well – and the pessimist sitting inside my skull, holding onto my eye sockets with a look of despair, believes I will hit a brick wall at some point – fuck knows when or where…).
So I’m handing over to David Isaak, who is bravely embarking on a hot topic of mine: agents. Click here to fly over and join the debate (when it starts). I’ll even jump in with my two-pennith when I get some time off for good behaviour!

For the record, my opinions on agents have not changed so much since I posted a blog entry way back in April 2006 (see link at the end - Blogger is pissing me about as per usual). Except to say that agents are a good idea at the right place at the right time. When that is, is open to debate, but I certainly don’t believe every writer should have an agent and even then literary agents should be regulated properly (and more so than they currently are) .

As for literary consultants… oooh, don’t get me started.

Link to April agent entry: here.

Personality goes a long way

Is it just me, or does Bestseller sound like a bad idea? I know I plugged it in the last blog entry but the more I think about it, the more I dislike the enterprise.

For the record, I think writing competitions are a fantastic things. It inspires those who have never thought of picking up a pen or keyboard before to write, and it provides aspiring writers with another avenue of publication rather than the soul-destroying path of submitting work through agents listed in the Writers and Artists Handbook.
The Secret War is a product of a writing competition – a book that was spotted amongst thousands and then published, so I’m obviously biased. But at least it shows writing competitions can further a writer’s career.

And the same might be said of Bestseller. But it’s not really the winning that could be a problem, it’s the taking part.

ITV is notorious for it’s reality-stardom TV what with X-factor and Pop Idol under it’s belts. But let’s face it, it’s sensationalist telly. As someone whose friend entered their daughter into an X-factor competition, it’s quite obvious the producers pick both the worst and the best entrants because there’s nothing more “entertaining” than seeing some oblivious individual make a complete prat of themselves on TV. Just as there’s nothing more “entertaining” than seeing some genius being discovered by a panel – only for it to be revealed in the tabloids they’ve been singing semi-professionally for fuck knows how long.

So how would that translate into Bestseller? Well I’m speculating, but if it’s given the same structure as X-factor or Pop Idol, you could well have an aspiring author standing in front of a panel of authors pitching their magnum opus. Which is fine, but writers don’t tend to be extroverts. Some, and some of the most talented, are introverts to some degree – those who find it difficult to even talk about their book to friends, let alone strangers… And let alone other authors. In fact, I would go as far as saying that really only ballsy, confident and those with the gift of the gab would get away with pitching their manuscript to best-selling authors. Have you ever tried doing that? Say at a signing? Or a convention? Me neither, I wouldn’t dream of doing it.

Pitching is for the film business. It’s for directors or scriptwriters or those who deal with that sort of thing on regular basis. Not really for writers who spend their time in solitude, spending months or years writing something only to be tongue-tied when it comes to pitching it to a best-selling author. Writers usually let their writing speak for them.

And unlike singing or dancing or acting, writing is hardly a performance thing (unless you’re a performance poet or the like). Novel writers don’t audition.

So what kind of winners could we get with Bestseller? We could get several contestants who are confident speakers, pitching a high concept book with actually little merit, while the better writers – those who have real talent – are laughed off the show in front of millions of TV viewers because they’re way too nervous to get their book across. Personality, in this case, will go a long way – and not really what counts: the writing itself.

I hope I’m wrong, and the show is a resounding success for the writers involved – if not so much ITV. But if it doesn’t work that way, I’m not sure how it could be done otherwise - perhaps with some actor reading excerpts of the book entries, or the authors themselves.
It would be fairer, but hardly “entertaining” Saturday night telly. It’s just not cruel enough.

But then the publishing business is already cruel without making it light entertainment.