Is a writer a writer only when she/he writes?

I just read Vanessa Gebbie's blog post where she writes that she's going to take a break from writing for the first time in eight years due to her father not being very well. She says "It is odd not being a writer any more, for the moment. I am wandering around a bit aimlessly, feeling blank. A writer has to be someone who writes…not someone who thinks about it."

A doctor is a doctor even when on holiday. If you know how to save lives you don't walk past a bleeding person in the street. That's how I imagine it anyway. If what you do is your passion it's always going to be with you. Yet it can be hard to accept when you're not sitting in front of your computer typing words that make up sentences that make up paragraphs that make up stories or chapters.

I have hardly done any writing in the past two weeks due to having visitors from Sweden. It makes me feel restless, as if life has no real meaning apart from spending time with people you love and care about. And maybe that's the plain truth. Somebody gets ill and you care for them. Somebody visits and you spend time with them. Life is about relationships between people. Yet I think everybody benefits from having a real passion in life, something that makes you feel alive, something you can return to even if all your relationships are broken.

That's why I started to write in the first place; I felt that I didn't fit in anywhere and found it very difficult to hang out with people without acting, without analysing every conversation. Also I often feel bored with life and writing about it instead is an escape. For example once I went to a quiz night and I really hate quizzes because my general knowledge about things is not that good ... But instead of sitting there hating the quiz I decided to write a short story that somehow involved a quiz night.

Because I had nice visitors and enjoyed myself over the last couple of weeks I have nothing to write about. I wasn't bored and there was no major conflict. And now I don't feel like a writer because I don't even feel like writing at the moment. I have a few short stories on the go, but my heart is not in it 100% as with my novel. Short stories don't give me the same satisfaction as novels. I prefer to follow something for a longer period of time. It's a bit like the way I like to travel. I don't like going to a new place every day, sleeping in a different hostel every night. When I go travelling I prefer to go somewhere and spend at least a month in one place so I get a bigger picture.

So ... is a novelist a novelist only when she/he is physically working on her/his novel? No! I'm a novelist waiting for a reply from the agent that I really, really want. A waiting novelist is still a novelist. Once a writer always a writer. But you do feel better when you do more of the writing and less of the thinking. However ... breaks are necessary and good, and people are more important than words. Sometimes.

Sparkling stories at SPARKS

The first time I went to the live short fiction event SPARKS upstairs at Three & Ten in Brighton I thought wow these writers are really good and it's really cool that a photo has been commissioned to go with each story; I wish it was me up on the stage ...

Yesterday that wish came true. I was quite nervous as I've never read a short story on stage before. When performing poetry I memorise all my lines and feel in control; somehow I find it more nerve-wracking having to read something from a piece of paper - especially as I've got this fear of pronouncing the words wrong. Another fear was that I would have to read my story, STEAL FROM THE RICH AND GIVE TO THE POOR, in front of a picture of a nipple as my story features a woman who's lost a nipple to a drunk plastic surgeon ... Luckily the photographer had chosen another scene from the story - a girl writing in a cafe.

SPARKS is a friendly event - hosted by the welcoming and charismatic Jo Mortimer - and I always appreciate talking to other writers and hearing their work. When cycling home along the sea my head was full of story snippets: (love?) notes hanging from a tree, bloody feet in rubber boots, a hotel room in Cairo, a lizard in a mouth, a person suffering from seasonal affective disorder, a mother preparing herself for something difficult ... you name it!

***

Today I had some bad and good news. My story LOVERS OF THE PLANET was not accepted for the next Short Fuse event at Komedia (Wed 14 April), but the good news is that I was really, really close to having my story chosen. The only problem seemed to be that it was a bit too long as they need a variety of short and long stories for the evening. So it's not really bad news at all - I'm actually really happy. It also mean that I can go to Bernadette Cremin's official launch of Miming Silence at Iambic Theatre that happens the same night. As if that wasn't enough the Are you sitting comfortably? short story event at the Basement is happening the same evening as well ... Brighton is great! The choice of three good events in one evening is amazing compared to one half good event every other month in my hometown ... But I think I'll have to write a story soon about being able to be in three places at the same time ...

Photo: Saskia Wesnigk-Wood . Big thanks also to Tim who videoed the whole event.

The Literature Week in Gothenburg

I was one of about thirty Swedish authors who took part at the Literature Week in Gothenburg. It's an yearly event where authors of children's and Young Adult fiction visit schools to talk about their books and their writing.

The fifteen-year-olds that I met at Kärralundsskolan were good at both listening and asking questions. Some people have said that my first novel, Punkindustriell hårdrockare med attityd doesn't have a proper plot, but I explained that some books are character driven rather than plot driven. The protagonist Amanda is very insecure and is feeling at bit left out at school. This has nothing to do with her family. I'm fed up with the common theme that in order to feel bad about yourself it has to be a big reason behind it, e.g. one of your parents have died, your mum is an alchoholic or your dad is mentally ill. I think it's enough to be a teenager to feel bad.

Amanda is 16 and has never been drunk, has bever been kissed, has never had a boyfriend and has never had sex. For me these were really big issues when I grew up and that's why I wanted to write about it. So the plot is based on Amanda's anxiety around these rituals and how she goes through them and deals with them. I told the teenagers that it's important to remember that everybody develops in their own time and that some have sex when they are thirteen and for others it doesn't happen until they are in their twenties. Nothing is right or wrong ...

On the Wednesday night all authors were invited to an evening where everybody had five minutes to present themselves to librarians and teachers in the Gothenburg area. It was nervwracking, but hopefully it'll lead to more invites to talk at schools and libraries in the future. It was also a great thing for me to meet Per Nilsson and Katarina Kieri whom are two Swedish writers I really admire. It's a surreal feeling that someone you look up to has read your book and liked it ...

All in all I really enjoyed my time in Gothenburg. Most of the other authors have been doing this for years and they laughed at my enthusiasm about staying at a hotel with all expenses paid ... I hope I'll get invited to loads and loads of things in the future, but that I can still be grateful about sleeping in a bed with clean white sheets and having a massive buffet breakfast.

I was lucky with the weather too as the headlines cried out that it were the warmest days in Gothenburg this year. Yet there were ice and snow left in some places ...

The Noise of Strangers

The Noise of Strangers is not only the title of Robert Dickinson's debut novel, it's also the title you could give the past two days of my life.

The launch party itself was a noisy event populated by people whom I didn't know, but the almost unlimited free-flowing wine transformed strangers into friends. The party was hosted in a beautiful flat next to the British Museum and the place was so packed you could hardly move. As you could tell Robert was very happy and got to sign a few of his books and talk to his fans (yes friends do count). It was very rewarding to discuss the book with other people who've read it and it made me realise the novel is even more clever than I thought ... The so-called "Scoomers" who cruise the streets in their battered Fiats is short for "Moulsecoombers" which is veyr funny if you live in Brighton and know that Moulsecoomb is a bit of a problem area.

The Noise of Strangers is for sale in Waterstones in Brighton and on Thursday night, 6pm, Robert will do a reading and book signing at Jubilee Library in Brighton. Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to speak to the other debut Myriad writers Ed Hillyer and Tom Connolly, but they'll also do readings at Jubilee Library this spring. I would've liked a reading yesterday, but there was too much noise and not enough space ...

Now, back to the title. I stayed at a hostel in London last night and it was a bit of an eerie experience ... I didn't see any of the other guests, but I did hear them ... The noise of strangers indeed. Tonight I'm in Gothenburg and I've upgraded. The hotel me and the other writers who are here for the Gothenburg Literature week are staying in is well soundproofed. It was only when I went into the spa and sauna that I could hear (but not see) the presence of strangers ... Maybe I need to go down to the bar and socialise and find out who the other writers are, but I need a clear head. I'm doing three book talks at a school tomorrow, and the free wine from yesterday is still affecting me ...

To Do-List, Book Launch & Book Festival

I had 11 things on my "to-do"-list today and I've done them all, apart from writing this blog post. Among other things I edited a short story, GINA'S LOVER, and sent it off to the Glasswoman Prize, proof-read my brother's course application and finished a poem for a friend's wedding. I'm proud that I did so well despite having a hangover from the burlesque club Trailer Trash last night and distracting myself with a walk through St Ann's Wells Garden and down to the seafront, having a cup of tea with Sky at Babylon Lounge.

Tomorrow I'm going to a book launch party in London. The publisher Myriad is celebrating their spring editions, and one of them is The Noise of Strangers by Robert Dickinson. I'm very excited as Robert is one of the guys who's given me feedback on REPLACING ANGEL. He kindly gave me a copy of his debut novel, and I read it a few weeks ago. It's a future dystopia set in Brighton and takes the piss out of civil servants. Well worth reading if you want to have a laugh about bureaucracy. It's also interesting the way Robert has mixed the narrative of the different characters with transcripts of dialogue at meetings, emails and newspaper reports.

I'm spending the night in London as I'm leaving from Heathrow early Tueday morning to go to a Book Festival in Gothenburg, Sweden. Another thing on my list was to rehearse the talk(s) I'm going to do at a school, and make sure my PowerPointPresentation is up to date. I always feel a bit weird talking to myself in front of a pretend audience, but the photographs on my door of some friends helped.

With the daffodils being in full bloom in Brighton it will feel like time travelling going to Sweden. I just hope the snow and ice will be gone ...

Are you sitting comfortably?

Yesterday my short story "Foxy Lady" was read out by actor Gareth Brierley at White Rabbit's live lit event Are you sitting comfortably? at the Basement in Brighton.

It was a surreal experience hearing somebody else reading my story, as if it was not mine. I thought "oh, I've read that somewhere before, I recognise it." Gareth did a good interpretation and the audience seemed to like it.

The other writers were: Glen Stevens, Denis Doran, David Patchett,Erika Szostak, Joe Ralley and Jules Craig. The topic for the evening was "secrets", so in every story there was some kind of revelation. There was also a confession box in the room where you could post your darkest secret. The best one won a prize and it turned out to be a girl called Kate who had puked in a cup at Glastonbury, selling it for £1 to a passer-by, saying it was soup ...

I really liked the concept of the evening with free cakes and teapot cocktails (not free.). Next event is in April and the topic is Magic. Here's info if you want to submit a story.

I also had some more good news yesterday ... another short story of mine, "Steal from the rich and give to the poor" was accepted for another live lit event: SPARKS on April the 6th upstairs at the Three and Ten in Kemp Town. And this time I'll read it myself ... Thanks to Tim, Brian and Saksia for feedback!

What do teenagers do in their spare time?

Yesterday I ran a creative writing workshop for Young Adults at Hove Library called "It's raining words". Only one teenager turned up, so in the end we opened it up to all ages and got two more participants: one 56-year old and and one 29-year old. The girls from the study support team joined in as well so in the end I had five people in the my workshop.

Despite the low number we all had great fun. Matt - the teenager wrote about a woman who lost her watering can in the library due to library staff knocking on her door telling her that her books were late ... He's 13 and it was the longest story he'd ever written and he seemed very pleased with it. He also wrote a brilliant two-line poem inspired by the old saying "It's raining cat's and dogs." The adults were equally productive and I was pleased that my exercises sparked their imagination.

Now my question is: Why did the teenagers not turn up to a free creative writing workshop?

*Not the right marketing?
A couple of months ago a leaflet went out to school children about different activities during the Aqua Festival (which my workshop was part of.) Bookings had to be made by phoning or emailing a third party (not me, not the library, but the person organising the festival) Posters and flyers went up in the library, but again pre-bookings had to be made by contacting a third party. It was also advertised on the council website and the library website.

A flyer can be seen by clicking here.

The theory me and my colleagues have is that teenagers don't want to book things in advance, they prefer to drop in on the day, so at the last minute we put a "drop in"-banner on the posters in the library.

*Not the right age group?
Teenagers is a tricky age group. Before I was sixteen I was too shy to do anything. And if you don't have any friends who want to come along it can be very difficult to go to something on your own. At that age writing could also be something that feels very private and they might be afraid they have to read out what they've written. (I wanted to do a creative writing project as my final exam work when I was 19, but decided not to do it when my teacher said I might have to show it to other people ...)

*Not the right time and place?
I can understand that if you have spent all Monday at school you might not want to come to the library, sit down and do something that almost feels like school. Not that many teenagers go to Hove Library anyway, but when the library ran a drawing manga workshop a while ago about ten teenagers turned up, so that was obviously more cool ... (on that occasion you could sign up directly in the library)

To make me feel better, any other ideas about why teenagers didn't turn up are most welcome! :) :) :)

As I've put in quite a bit of time in preparing this workshop the library managers suggested that I do it again, but that we ask a specific class to come in during school time. A break from ordinary lessons is often welcome. The talks I've done in classes during school time in Sweden have been very popular and successful.

I'm also open for doing the workshop at other venues, so please contact me if you know anyone who's interested.

Good News - story accepted for live lit event!

My short story "Foxy Lady" has been chosen as one of the stories to be read out by actors at the live literature event Are you sitting comfortably?

So please come along to The Basement (24 Kensington Street North Lanes) this Wednesday 17 March 7.30pm.

I'm so happy! It was just the encouragement and reward I needed for breaking into the short fiction scene. Big thank you to Chris, Jenni, Solera & Petra who gave me valuable feedback on "Foxy Lady".

Change of Scene

I've been part of the Brighton Poetry Scene since 2004. I've been a regular at nights such as Brighton Poetry Society's Open Mic, Hammer & Tongue Slam, Floetics, Horseplay, Wordplay and of course Poets Cornered meetings. I've also done special gigs like Brighton&Hove Peace Festival, Shoreham Beer, Cider & Literature Festival, The Bass Festival, All arts Fiesta, The Poetry Marathon Poets Corner Festival etc. I've had a good time and made lots of friends.

Yet, after five years I've realised that it's bloody hard becoming a professional poet, even semi-professional. You constantly have to suck up to other people in order to get gigs and it's even harder to get poetry published. I'm torn between being a "stage poet" and a "page poet". There are few people who can really pull it off, being good both on stage and page, like Bernadette Cremin and Ros Barber.

What I want to say with this blog post is not that I'm going to stop performing or stop writing poetry, but I'm not going to dedicate as much time to poetry as I used to. It feels like I wrote my best poems and did my best performances 2-3 years ago, and since then I haven't really developed. To become better a poet I need to put in a lot of work: courses, training, studying etc. If I'd put as much effort into poetry and performing as I have put into my novels I'd be a "big star" by now :), but it's hard to succeed in more than one area.

Mainly I'm a novelist and I'm better at writing prose than poetry. I've recently discovered that there's quite a good live scene for short fiction in Brighton with events such as Short Fuse, Sparks, Are you sitting Comfortably? and the former Tight Lip. So I'll cut down on going to poetry events and focus more on the short fiction scene.

It's scary though, starting all over again. When I go to poetry events I feel very comfortable as I know a lot of people and they know me. It's funny that there's a completely different crowd that goes to short fiction events compared to poetry events. What I really like about the poetry scene is that everybody is welcome and everybody can have a go and you get a great mix of people. Of course everybody is welcome at the short fiction events as well, but the main difference is that you have to submit your stories in advance to the short fiction events and only a few get selected to be read on the night, whereas anyone can go up and do anything at a poetry open mic night. It makes the short fiction scene more competitive, but I understand that this is necessary. You can stand listening to a poem that is not to your taste for 5 minutes, but it's worse listening to a story for 15 minutes that is absolute rubbish, so I guess you need some kind of filter.

The reason I started to write poetry at all was that I needed a break from my novel writing, the satisfaction of actually completing something. Poetry used to be my hobby, but somewhere along the line I started to take myself too seriously ... I need to find the FUN again.

I also must admit that I love being on stage. I'm quite shy in real life and often worry about boring people and taking up to much space, but on stage I feel absolutely free: it's my time to speak. Being on stage is also an excuse to dress up. As I don't go clubbing on a regular basis, as I used to in my early twenties, I don't often get a chance to dress up ...

Lastly I'm interested in blog readers opinions: Why do so few people write both prose and poetry? Well, some poets write short stories, but very few write novels. And very few novelists writes poetry, but do write short stories. (As mentioned before you don't see many people from the poetry scene at short story events or many people from the short story scene at poetry events.) For me it's either poems or novels; I find that short stories are a real challenge and haven't written that many, but it's time for a change ...

Photo: Kristen Healy

Time Management

I want to have time to:
*read trashy novels for pure pleasure
*read classics and understand them
*paint my nails twice a week
*use teeth plackers
*write letters
*listen to a whole CD album and read the lyrics

I thought I'd have time to do these things, now that I've finished my novel, Replacing Angel, and sent it off to agents. But funnily enough it seems like I've got LESS time when I'm not working on a particular project...

I become more organised when I write; my life has a structure and I feel focused. Now I'm drifting like a discarded water bottle in the sea. Do I have a message inside me? I don't know. When I shuffled my iTunes to start writing this blog post the first song that started playing was Lou Reed's "There's no time"! My message to myself and everyone else is that you have to make time for things - if you don't you'll drift to a distant shore of a desert island where there's nobody to pick you up ...

Despite all this drifting I've had the first really productive day for about a week.
*I washed my clothes
*Re-wrote Steal from the rich and give to the poor, a short story that I wrote a year ago, and sent it off to a couple of people for feedback (am planning to submit it to SPARKS - a short fiction night)
*Worked on a poem for a friend's wedding
*Booked a night at a hostel in London as I need to stay there on my way to a literature festival in Gothenburg at the end of March (and in London I'll attend a launch party for 3 Myriad novelists)
*Wrote a very short postcard and posted it
*Power-walked along the seafront and did some food shopping on the way back
*Went through my writing workshop "It's raining words"(that I'm doing at Hove Library next Monday) with my friend Sophie
*Made some notes and prepared stuff for the workshop
*Booked a train ticket to London (£3 advance on the national rail website)
*Printed Google maps of parts of London and Gothenburg

And now ... it's 10 pm and I've been up for 13 hours, and the only real leisure time I've had was when I had breakfast and read Patricia Highsmith's Carol. I don't feel sorry for myself. I designed this day (made a list before going to bed last night) and am very happy and grateful that I achieved so much. It's a mystery though that there's a still a pile of socks and knickers on my bed waiting to be sorted out after being in the tumble dryer ... Hopefully I'll get to bed before midnight.

Celebration Time!

I had a great time visiting my friend Laura in Edinburgh this weekend celebrating
a) the completion of my first English novel Replacing Angel
b) my 28th birthday

Two good reasons to drink absinthe ... (and absinthe also features in my novel :).


We didn't spend the whole weekend drinking though ... We had vegetarian Haggis at Henderson's, admired installations at National Gallery of Modern art, danced to punk & rock at Studio 24, and went for a snowy walk in the Pentland Hills outside Bonaly. It was great to have a proper holiday, feeling very free now that I've sent off Replacing Angel.


Laura is also a writer and one of the people who has given me feedback on Replacing Angel, so she was the right person to celebrate with! Not sure how much she enjoyed the snow trudging though ...

BIG THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR BIRTHDAY CARDS, TEXTS, FACEBOOK MESSAGES ETC. I'm happy to know so many great people.

What is Performance Art?

Last night I was lucky enough to witness the most real form of performance art. I went to an event called Horseplay (a monthly evening of spoken word and music at the Sanctuary) hosted by Ash Ffrench and Hattie Snooks.

Apart from enjoying pancakes and performances by The Bobby McGee's, Bernadette Cremin and Steve Larkin the audience got treated to a real surprise.

Before the main act came on Ash asked Hattie to turn her back to him on stage. He said a lot of nice things about her and how happy he was to be hosting Horseplay's 2nd birthday party with her. And all of the sudden he went down on his knees and proposed! Thoughts like "Is this part of the show?" crossed my mind ... and of course it was part of the show, but even so it was sincere and Ash & Hattie are getting married! (What made it slightly surreal was that Bernadette (who didn't have a clue and don't know the couple very well) blurted out "are you going to propose to her?" earlier in the evening.)

They might not agree with it being performance art, and I don't like labelling people, but I'm fascinated by the concept "performance art". In the beginning of January I went to see a show called "Kim Noble will die" at Soho Theatre in London. It was a one-man show where the artist/actor played himself as a suicidal desperado who handed out his own spunk in little plastic containers to the audience ... It might sound sick, but still there's nothing I like better when the line between truth and fiction, performance and real life is very thin.

While I'm on the subject I also have to mention that my best friend in Sweden married herself last year and about twenty people turned up to her ceremony. When she first thought of the idea she didn't intend to make art or put on a show or performance. It was other people starting to label it as performance art ...

And I think it's quite artistic to propose to someone on stage. Label or not.

Postnatal

I'm off sick today. I didn't get much sleep last night because I had a bad stomach ache and wanted to throw up, but couldn't. I'm still feeling a bit queasy and all I want to eat is ice cream.

On my way to the nearest ice cream vendor (Co-op) I stopped off at the post office and sent off REPLACING ANGEL. So maybe I'm feeling sick because I'm suffering from postnatal novel depression ...

It's like I'm no longer capable of looking after my book baby, and therefore the nanny agents will take care of her and let me know when I'm fit to look after her again. They'll also let me know if my baby is all right, and if she needs to go through another health check (draft.) It sounds horrible, but I hope it'll take a while. I have things to get on with. Like having a hair cut.

PS. the post office in the picture has nothing to do with my local post office.

Printing my baby

I don't have any metaphor for this. If you have followed my blog you know that I compare writing a novel to having a baby, but I can't think of any comparison to "printing out the manuscript". Most agents want to see the first three chapters, so I have "only" printed about 50 pages. (Double-spaced).

I'm almost there. My synopsis is ready. My CV is ready. The first three chapters are ready. The only thing I've got left is the most important thing - the cover letter. Someone asked why I've spent two weeks on writing a letter ... But then I spent two years being pregnant with Replacing Angel (here we go again - bring on the baby metaphors!) and I think the baby deserves to be presented in the best possible way. Yes, maybe I found a metaphor after all. Writing a cover letter is like when you dress the baby up to meet the relatives for the first time ...

Painting My Book Baby's Toenails

So, I've finally given birth to my book baby and it's a girl!
But I'm keeping her safe at home, am not ready to let the world see her yet.
I feel bad for wanting to beautify her, painting her toenails.

The 5th and final draft of Replacing Angel is finished.
But it's hard to leave her alone.
I wake up in the middle of the night
and think of sentences I want to polish.
I keep adding coats of nail varnish to her toenails.
Sometimes using aceton to remove things I don't like.

I guess you're never really finished.
You just have to set a date when you decide that you are not going to make any more changes and be happy with your creation, happy enough to let it engage with the world, i.e. send it out to agents.

I have drafted a cover letter, synopsis and some kind of CV and sent it to a very kind writing collegaue for feedback.

At the moment I'm doing some detective work, trying to find out who the best nanny for my baby is. (I'm going to approach the agents of some of my favourite authors to start with, and I also have a couple of recomendations that I want to investigate.)

Hopefully I'll send my baby off before my birthday on the 26th of Feb. I can't wait to have an evening off. Even if I'm out and about doing other stuff she's constantly on my mind ...

Lost in translation

This week my novel (the Swedish one) was reviewed in Jyllandsposten, one of Denmark's biggest morning papers. The review was very positive when it came to the contents of the book, and said I'd captured the teenage angst very well, and that I showed there was hope in the end. However, unlike the Swedish reviewers, this one really hated the cover, title and author pic - saying that it looked like a print-on-demand book. I don't agree with this at all;I love the cover and the pic of me in pink hair.

But the biggest problem according to the reviewer was the translation. Swedish expressions that were unknown to the Danes etc. I don't know Danish, but as far as I know the translator has done a great job. He emailed me every week asking things, making sure to get it right ...

Yet. It's a bloody difficult book to translate. People ask me daily why "Punkindustriell hårdrockare med attityd" is not translated to English. I have two answers.
1. I'm not confident enought to do it myself, as I know it's a very site specific book and I've used expression that only exist in my hometown.
2. I haven't found the right translator. It has to be someone who's native English, but has spent years in Sweden, and has a thorough understanding of the school system and the youth culture.

Click here to read the review - if you understand Danish that is ...

The Head is Out

In this room I started to give birth to Replacing Angel.
It is almost out. You can see the head and the torso,
and even what sex it is. But the legs and feet are not out yet.

(I re-wrote every single scene where the Man appears and it felt like I really got to know him. Thanks everybody who left comments and discussed the matter with me before I left, it helped a lot. I also cut a bit of the beginning to increase the action.)

My retreat at Claridge House in Lingfield was the best thing I've treated myself to for a long time. I reclaimed the feeling of peace I felt when I used to stay with my grandma in the countryside in the Sweden. Since she passed away two years ago I've been at loss, looking for a place where I can go and just be and write and go for walks in nature and have all my meals cooked for me. And I think I've found that place. Instead of spending the money on a return flight to Sweden I can spend the money on going to Claridge house when I really need to.

This is what made it such a peaceful and productive stay:

*I had my mobile turned off the whole time and for a day after I got back. (I often keep it turned off or on silent anyway and find it helps my thoughts flow more freely when I'm not interrupted my little bleeps.)
*I didn't use Internet during my stay or on the day I got back. (I realised that I spend a lot of time thinking about things I've read on Facebook and am constantly going through emails in my head that I need to write etc. Internet is a bit like alcohol. You need to learn when too much is too much. From now on I'll try to only go on Internet once a day and for a limited time.)
*The house is run by Quakers - who worship through sitting in silence and I took part in some of the silent times during the day and found it refreshing. The walks around Dormansland Village also helped.

I know I expected that I would give birth to the whole novel when I was away. But there's no point it rushing it. I'm hoping to see the legs and the feet at the end of this month ... Then I'll start working on a synopsis and cover letter that I can send out to agents.

So if I appear to be absent or don't return texts or emails you'll know why ...

Pregnant in the 27th Month

Twenty-seven months have passed since I got impregnated with Replacing Angel (even if I didn't have a name for it then). I've really gone over the time and I can feel it.

Inside me is a completed novel. I just have to perfect it.
There are mainly three areas I'll have to work on:
*the beginning
*the end
*the character the Man (I'm now reading The Game by Neill Strauss and re-reading The Dark Part of me by Belinda Burns for inspiration.)

To help the birth process I'm going away on a retreat this weekend.
Leaving Friday midday and coming back Monday midday. Two full days to just write write write, while all my meals are cooked for me. There won't be any distractions - apart from the beautiful gardens. But it's not good with too much exercise when you're pregnant ...

PS. I don't believe in perfection and am far from a perfectionist. But I'm hoping to reach a stage where I feel happy enough with the novel to send it out to agents.

This Charming Man

Image: Knut Finstermeier

I've recieved some more feedback on Replacing Angel from writer Robert Dickinson. He read my novel in three settings on his train journey to work and said it was easy to read and well-paced. Overall he liked it, it was just one major problem ...

The same major problem I've had since I started writing this novel: the character called the Man. He's an annoying manipulative man who believes in conspiracy theories. Despite this all women fall for him. Do you know the type?

I've always been fascinated with the fact that so many women fall for complete psychos. So that's what I've been trying to write about. But I've failed. The Man is not charming enough. He doesn't have enough charisma. Three of my four critics have said the same thing: they can't understand why the main character Natalie falls for the Man. It's not enough to state that he's sexy. And he's not sexy in a traditonal way either ... He's got red hair.

So how can I make the Man more charming? How can I SHOW his charming side, rather than TELL it? Please help me!

Intentions for 2010

I spent the last evening of 2009 in the company of good friends in a cottage in the countryside outside Brighton. And I started 2010 with a walk on The Downs thinking about what my intentions are for this year.

*I'm going to be honest and truthful both to myself and other people

*I'm going to trust and follow my intuition and gut feeling

The big goal over all is of course to complete my novel Replacing Angel and send it off to agents and find a publisher. My plan is to go away for a weekend in the beginning of February and add the finishing touches.

Happy New Year everyone - let's make 2010 a good one!

My Writing Year 2009

Sometimes it feels like I spend far too much time sitting on a bench, staring out in space and being all at sea ... Do I actually get anything done? That's my biggest worry. If I spend a week or two not writing I think the world is coming to an end ... So to make myself feel better I've done list of everything I've achieved in 2009:

*Started a blog in English - thank you for reading!

*Completed the 2nd, 3rd and 4th draft of Replacing Angel – my first novel in English

*Been to two "conferences": Meet the Agents & Going Public, arranged by New Writing South

*My first novel, Punkindustriell Hårdrockare med Attityd, was released in paperback

*I visited two schools in Växjö for the World Book Day

*I did four talks in one day at a school in Mjölby on a topical day about ”sexual knowledge”

*My first novel, Punkindustriell Hårdrockare med Attityd, was published in Denmark

*I was invited back to do a talk at a school in Tranås

*I did a talk at a school in Uddevalla

*Took part at the International Book Fair in Gothenburg, workshop for teenagers

*Did my first school talk in English at Loxdale Centre in Portslade

*Did a poetry gig at the Peace Festival at Hove Lawns

*Did at poetry gig with Ash French & Daniel Roviera at the Shoreham Beer, Cider & Literature Festival

*I did a poetry gig at the Summer Solstice event organised by Beyond

*Took part in a poetry cabaret show with Jelly Inc. at Bombanes

*Performed with Writing Sisters Collective

*Performed poetry at slams and open mics: Hammer & Tongue, Brighton Poetry Society, e.g. poetry, Horseplay, Floetics

*Submitted poems to Mslexia’s annual poetry competition and my poem ”Helping cousin Anna to move on” was shortlisted among the 100 best entries

*Submitted 10 poems to Tall Lighthouse pamphlet competition but didn’t win

*I wrote about 15 poems I’m happy with, about 15 poems I’m not happy with

*I wrote 8 first (some second drafts) of short stories, only submitted one to a Valentine Competition that I’ll know the outcome of in January

*Studied Julia Cameron’s Walking in this world


Other memorable happenings (good&bad) that are not directly writing related:

*Volunteered for the Fringe Festival in Wellington and got to see a lot of good shows

*My time in New Zealand, New Year in Golden Bay, living and working at Rosemere Backpackers in Wellington and travelled the North Island with Sky

*Visited my friend Elin in Melbourne

*The death of my grandma

*Moved to Alpine Road

*Got a temporary job at Hove Library after 3 (!) interviews within the libraries

*My best friend Sara married herself and I was bridesmaid

*My "sister" Jo turned 30 and we celebrated her in Copenhagen

*I saw Nick Cave 3 times!

I love Brighton!

Despite struggling with the darkness and cold of winter, Brighton is a cool place to be all year round ...


On Saturday I got a surprise when I walked along the seafront and saw an army of running (and walking) Santas! It was the yearly Santa Dash - a 5km run fom charity. (Maybe I'll join in next year, James!)


Every night until Xmas a new beach hut is opened up like an advent calender and there's free mulled wine and mince pies. Each hut has also got a carol which the decorations are based on.


Lastly ... a December sunset is just as beautiful as a summery one.

Creative Exchange

It all began with a text message in February 2008 when I got back to Brighton after my travels. I told my poet friend Sue Pearson that I was back in town and asked if she wanted to meet up and write. She texted back straight away and that was the start of our creative exchange.

The first meetings were all about writing. We did exercises and gave each other feedback on our recent pieces of work. We also set goals. Most of them were writing related, e.g. write a poem for a competition or finish a short story. Then we started to expand.

Sue is taking a bit of a break from writing and is now into doll and jewelery making. And at the moment I'm so focused on my novel that I don't feel motivated to write poetry. So our goals are a bit different nowadays. It could be anything from writing a fan letter to Miranda July to making a richly embroidered stomach. (Sue is showing one of her hand-crafted dolly stomachs in the picture.) For our next meeting (when Xmas and stuff like that don't get in the way we meet up every other week for 3-4 hours)my goals is to plan a writing retreat for myself. I'm thinking of going away for a weekend in January and stay in a hostel or B&B to work on the final bits of Replacing Angel.

Even if Sue and me are making different kinds of art we have a very positive exchange. The creative process of joy and agony is the same and it's great to have the support of another artist. A big part of our meetings are taken up by discussing current projects and sometimes that's all you need: a place to vent your fears and expectations.

James Burt and Kay Sexton have written a lot about workshops and how they are very cautious of them. I've been going to various writing groups or workshops on and off over the years and although I found them helpful and good for networking nothing is as good as having a private creative mentor! I must admit that main reason I sometimes go to groups and workshops is that I need to hang out with other writers in order to feel like a writer myself ... And as a result I've made many good friends like Sue, Morgan, Petra and Bernadette. You need a lot of time on your own as a writer, but without supportive friends you're going nowhere ... Thank you for existing!

The So-Called End of Editing

All my journals have names. They are all called something beginning with "The so-called ..." When I named my 57th journal I could feel that things were coming to an end. Not just the end of the year and the end of my grandma. But also the end of Replacing Angel.

By now I should be used to it, but after finishing a draft I tend to feel a bit blue, because I don't know how to handle life when I'm not writing and yet I can't write again if I don't take a break. So you can imagine how I feel when I've finished a whole book ... and I'm not even there yet. I've finished the 4th draft and begun a 5th one. But this 5th one is going to be the last! Now it's about fine-tuning and work a bit more on the beginning and the end.

I spent the whole weekend in bed with Polly (yes, I also name my laptops)and read Replacing Angel aloud to myself. Well I managed 200 of 300 pages and I didn't read aloud all the time because my throat was and still is sore.

I've done things like changing "OK" to "okay" as it reads better. I've also made a mind-map about the character the Man. He still needs work. He needs to be just a bit more likeable without losing his psycho side ... Another thing I've amused myself with is to find synonyms for the word "drink". So far I've used gulp 11 times, swig 15 times and sip 30 times. And drink 60 times ... Does that mean that it's too much drinking in the novel? I'm grateful for any other synonyms you can come up with. Quaff is another word, but I don't like it very much.

My plan was to finish Replacing Angel this year. I think I'll almost reach that gold. I'm waiting for more feedback and even if I reach the feedback before the New Year I might not have time to process it. So I have to set a new deadline: 31 January.

Lastly I've studied Walking in this world by Julia Cameron. She writes: "Completing a draft of a novel may spark thoughts of suicide rather than celebration". Further she compares the final stages in a creative project to a glass mountain: "I slither down every time I try to clamber up./.../ This delicate and treacherous stage, the glass mountain of creative doubt, is a slippery slope we face alone. It is on its icy flank that we must find small footholds, edging our way upward from concept to actual conception - a difficult birth, as pivotal as conquering our creative Everest."

Don't worry. I'm not suicidal, but today when I went for a walk with my camera I found nothing worth taking a picture of. Even the sea looked ugly in the grey light ...

On The Road with Nick Cave

Photo: Barnaby Marriott
Tonight I went to see the film The Road at the Duke of York's cinema in Brighton. The film is based on the novel by Cormac Mccarthy and is directed by John Hillcoat. It was the first time I went to the cinema this year and the main reason was that Nick Cave and Warren Ellis from the Bad Seeds wrote the soundtrack. After the film John Hillcoat and Nick Cave did a Q&A session. I didn't ask any questions, but Barney convinced me to have my photo taken with Mr Cave ...

It's supernatural seeing someone who you admire. Even if Nick Cave is a human being and seems like a really nice person who doesn't let fame get to his head I can't help feeling paralyzed in his presence ... There are so many things I'd like to say. Like how his album No more shall we part helped me through one of the loneliest times in my life. And also what a big inspiration his lyrics are for my current novel, Replacing Angel. All year I've had Nick Cave songs on repeat while writing and when I see the man behind the music it's almost as if him and the music are two separate things. As if I've built up my own personal relationship with the lyrics and don't give a damn about what they meant to Nick Cave when he wrote them. And I think that's the purpose of all art: the art itself should be so good that you don't need a famous person or a pretty face to promote it.

(However I did speak to Nick Cave about two months ago and asked if I had his permission to use him as a character in my novel ... Click here to read more!)

So what did I think of the film? A father and son are trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, walking by foot across America, hoping that everything will be better once they reach the coast. And that's where it all ends. Or starts anew if you so wish ... Tears were threatening to run down my cheeks a few times, because of the tight relationship between father and son. I liked the bleak atmosphere and the sparse piano music. However the theme of cannibalism will probably haunt my dreams tonight ... That's why I prefer reading so I can create my own images, which won't be as bad as seeing something happening in front of your eyes ... I'm glad there's not a film based on Nick Cave's Murder Ballads!