Last Thursday I did the now-annual thing of taking a trip to London to do a bit of shopping, but more importantly to meet up with my editor (now two editors – Will Atkins and Julie Crisp) which usually coincides with a MNW book launch. This year it was Aliya Whiteley’s launch of Light Reading at Goldsboro books and the turn out was pretty good.
Neil Ayres, Ian Hocking and Roger Morris have all written great blog entries on the matter, so I’m not going to go over old ground too much, just that it was fantastic to see familiar faces – Len Tyler, Roger Morris, Cate Sweeney, Mike Barnard and David Headley (of Goldsboro Books) – as well as those I’ve never met before: Aliya – le grande author herself (who performed admirably in the face of tipsy writers and people craving a bit of her attention), Neil Ayres, Ian Hocking and Bruno Vincent (of Do Ants Have Arseholes? fame).
These kind of events are like weddings to me: you get to meet people you haven’t seen in ages, like distant family relatives, or people you’ve only had contact with over the phone or the internet. So when you meet them – in my case, with an ever refilling glass of wine in my hand (thank you, David) – I feel the overwhelming need to get into a long chat. And usually in my case, a chat that pretty much rambles depending on which part of the night you catch me – the later, the longer the ramble. The casualties of such an evening are that I don’t get to chat to everyone I’d like to (if Jonathan Drapes is reading this, my apologies for not getting around to have a natter – likewise, Sophie Portas).
As well as continuing conversations started on the blog with Roger and Len, I had some great conversations with the likes of Ian, Neil and Bruno. I’ve been reading Ian’s blog on and off for a while, but I didn’t recognise him with a full-beard – quite a disguise, Dr Hocking! Ian is a fantastic chap, and we had a good ol’ chat about writing full-time, kind of apt with Roger attending as well (the only full-time writer in the room, unless anyone can correct me).
By the time I got round to talking Neil, I was a little squiffy, so I might not have made too much sense at that point, but I hoped to convey the awe I felt of two people writing the same book over a great distance (and after meeting only a couple of times, to boot). It’s something I want to try doing when I get the time – with Dave Budd, a university friend of mine, keen writer and with the same fully warped imagination as me – so getting some tips from Neil and Aliya seemed like a good idea.
In Bruno Vincent's case we had great chat about his book, Do Ant’s have Arseholes? – which is a bit of a hit where I work, and I can see why after Bruno kindly sent me a signed copy in the post. It’s a bloody funny read, and something to dip into because I fear laughing out loud for several hours will either drive me hoarse or my wife – Sarah - to seek medical intervention.
Like everyone I chatted to, Bruno is a smashing guy, and there lies the beguiling nature of evenings such as this. As Ian states in his blog, there really weren’t any egos in the room, and that was wonderful. Perhaps it is because the writers in attendance have all just recently hatched, some of us still with flecks of egg-shells on our shiny coats, or perhaps it’s the people themselves. You read of writers with egos that just seem to inflate as their writing progresses, but part of me wonders if they ever had the community that Macmillan New Writing offers? And beyond that, really, because there are writers within this community who are not Macmillan New Writers at all but who are – and quite rightly - treated with the same amount of respect. It’s not a society I’m alluding to, and if it is there aren’t really any requirements for membership.
And I guess, for me, that was the common thread through all the conversations I had that night, from chatting in the basement at Goldsboro books, to around the table at the pub afterwards, there is an undiminished sense of community. A community that I think some suspected would fall away with the first tranche of Macmillan New Writers, but has gone on, evolving with every additional writer, new or old that takes a seat at the table.
My second and last book for Macmillan New Writing will be published in January 2009, and it will mark a big moment in my career which I hope will evolve on to Pan Macmillan and Tor.
But I won’t forget where I came from, nor those in the community, and will always ask someone to keep the chair at the new writers’ table warm for me – even if I’m away for just a little while.
Neil Ayres, Ian Hocking and Roger Morris have all written great blog entries on the matter, so I’m not going to go over old ground too much, just that it was fantastic to see familiar faces – Len Tyler, Roger Morris, Cate Sweeney, Mike Barnard and David Headley (of Goldsboro Books) – as well as those I’ve never met before: Aliya – le grande author herself (who performed admirably in the face of tipsy writers and people craving a bit of her attention), Neil Ayres, Ian Hocking and Bruno Vincent (of Do Ants Have Arseholes? fame).
These kind of events are like weddings to me: you get to meet people you haven’t seen in ages, like distant family relatives, or people you’ve only had contact with over the phone or the internet. So when you meet them – in my case, with an ever refilling glass of wine in my hand (thank you, David) – I feel the overwhelming need to get into a long chat. And usually in my case, a chat that pretty much rambles depending on which part of the night you catch me – the later, the longer the ramble. The casualties of such an evening are that I don’t get to chat to everyone I’d like to (if Jonathan Drapes is reading this, my apologies for not getting around to have a natter – likewise, Sophie Portas).
As well as continuing conversations started on the blog with Roger and Len, I had some great conversations with the likes of Ian, Neil and Bruno. I’ve been reading Ian’s blog on and off for a while, but I didn’t recognise him with a full-beard – quite a disguise, Dr Hocking! Ian is a fantastic chap, and we had a good ol’ chat about writing full-time, kind of apt with Roger attending as well (the only full-time writer in the room, unless anyone can correct me).
By the time I got round to talking Neil, I was a little squiffy, so I might not have made too much sense at that point, but I hoped to convey the awe I felt of two people writing the same book over a great distance (and after meeting only a couple of times, to boot). It’s something I want to try doing when I get the time – with Dave Budd, a university friend of mine, keen writer and with the same fully warped imagination as me – so getting some tips from Neil and Aliya seemed like a good idea.
In Bruno Vincent's case we had great chat about his book, Do Ant’s have Arseholes? – which is a bit of a hit where I work, and I can see why after Bruno kindly sent me a signed copy in the post. It’s a bloody funny read, and something to dip into because I fear laughing out loud for several hours will either drive me hoarse or my wife – Sarah - to seek medical intervention.
Like everyone I chatted to, Bruno is a smashing guy, and there lies the beguiling nature of evenings such as this. As Ian states in his blog, there really weren’t any egos in the room, and that was wonderful. Perhaps it is because the writers in attendance have all just recently hatched, some of us still with flecks of egg-shells on our shiny coats, or perhaps it’s the people themselves. You read of writers with egos that just seem to inflate as their writing progresses, but part of me wonders if they ever had the community that Macmillan New Writing offers? And beyond that, really, because there are writers within this community who are not Macmillan New Writers at all but who are – and quite rightly - treated with the same amount of respect. It’s not a society I’m alluding to, and if it is there aren’t really any requirements for membership.
And I guess, for me, that was the common thread through all the conversations I had that night, from chatting in the basement at Goldsboro books, to around the table at the pub afterwards, there is an undiminished sense of community. A community that I think some suspected would fall away with the first tranche of Macmillan New Writers, but has gone on, evolving with every additional writer, new or old that takes a seat at the table.
My second and last book for Macmillan New Writing will be published in January 2009, and it will mark a big moment in my career which I hope will evolve on to Pan Macmillan and Tor.
But I won’t forget where I came from, nor those in the community, and will always ask someone to keep the chair at the new writers’ table warm for me – even if I’m away for just a little while.
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