Cheerleaders

Our families are understandably excited about the arrival of the baby. Her grandparents, great uncles, great aunts, uncles and aunts ask after her regularly. There is little to tell them except for the direction and force of her kicks or squirms, but their interest seems only natural to us as her parents. Even her little cousins are somewhat aware of her impending arrival and Percy was suggested by one of them as an appropriate name by the other day.

Almost two thousand babies are born in the UK each day, but to our families and friends this baby will be special. The generously loaned (and happily offloaded) baby clothes and equipment are a small part of the support that they are to us. At the simplest level, their interest in our baby and their desire for her to be healthy and happy is a great encouragement to us.

Cheerleaders are similarly necessary for books. Each year hundreds of thousands of new books are published in the UK. My manuscripts are yet to even reach that stage. If and when they do, they will be one of thousands of others. Just as with our baby, the support and encouragement of my family and friends, partial though they might be, is incredibly important to me.

Some of the support they give is very practical. It would be one thing for my heroic husband to work to support me while I’m at home looking after our baby. It’s quite another for him to work to support me while I’m at home writing a book. If either Wild Rose or A Good Death is published, a good measure of that achievement will be his for giving me the time and mental energy to work on them.

Other support they give is motivational. My family and friends’ excitement and congratulations at each stage of the process so far has spurred me on. Though I may have moments of doubt about the future of my manuscripts, they are ever hopeful. When they read my manuscripts, their enjoyment of my writing, though it might be biased, gives me confidence as I write.  

I have written before of the value of an expert opinion. A professional opinion is ultimately of the most financial value. However, the excitement and appreciation of family and friends is invaluable.

Unravelling

My mum and one of my sisters have been proof-reading A Good Death this week and giving valuable encouragement. They asked me how I went about writing a book; they are lovingly incredulous. They could see where I had drawn on my own experiences: an incident involving binoculars on a family holiday in the Pyrenees for example. But where, they wanted to know, did the rest come from?

I found it very hard to explain where the story, the characters and the settings come from. The simplest explanation is that they are made up, like a story we might have been asked to write at school. They come from my imagination. But that doesn’t satisfy me. It may sound absurd, but very quickly in the process of writing a book, it doesn’t seem made up anymore.

A friend recently sent me a link to a lecture given by Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love.  She talks about the need for a psychological device to distance a writer from the creative process, so that it doesn’t drive them mad. Gilbert suggests consideration of the Ancient Greek ‘daemons’ or Roman ‘genius’, spirits that communicate creativity. I can relate to this idea to an extent. There are times when I read my manuscript back and I’m surprised by what I’ve written. I wonder where it came from. But there are also times when I am painfully conscious of the process of making up the story.

Although there are parts of the process of writing a book that I can describe, I can no more explain how it happens that I can explain the making of our baby. I am aware of how her conception came about. But from that point on, my conscious involvement in her growth has been limited to trying to eat the right food, take appropriate vitamins and avoid harmful substances. I might be able to describe some of the biological and chemical processes involved, but as a whole her formation remains mysterious and wonderful.

In both cases, the best I can say is that they start from something very small. The baby started from a once-in-history combination of DNA. A Good Death started from a family looking glum in a burger restaurant. From each of those beginnings everything else has seemed to unravel of its own accord.

Some things you have to learn to love

I used to avoid reading through school and university essays before I handed them in. I’d worked hard on them and writing the final paragraph meant I could get on with something else. I also found it painful to read back through my own words – a bit like hearing my voice on a tape recorder. The experience of being a teacher changed that. I learnt the frustration of reading a badly proof-read essay. Spelling mistakes, missed words and awkward grammar are very distracting. I also learnt how simple it could be to improve the clarity of the ideas being expressed.

Last year, when studying for my Masters, I found that I was much more willing to see my first attempt as a draft. With my writing this has become an absolute necessity.

At the moment I am proof-reading A Good Death, having finished the re-writes. I find something to change on almost every page: typos, missed words, awkward phrasing that I don’t like any more, details that have become inaccurate as I’ve changed other parts of the manuscript. It can be an excruciating process, particularly when it comes to transferring the changes from paper to my laptop. However, I’ve also come to appreciate the opportunity to read through the whole manuscript and get a wider view. There is also less creative pressure when I’m working on text I’m otherwise basically happy with.

Coming to enjoy the different stages of pregnancy has been similarly challenging. As I’ve moved through the trimesters each has had its challenges. In the first, I felt almost constantly unwell and couldn’t tell anyone why. But I was very excited about being pregnant and it was a happy secret between me and David. In the second, there was little evidence of actually being pregnant and it felt very unreal, but I was beginning to feel better and we discovered that we were having a girl. Now, on the edge of the third trimester, I am beginning to feel sick again, I am very tired and I’m making the classic ‘oof’ noise when I try to get out of bed, or a car, or off the sofa. The next twelve to fourteen weeks stretch out endlessly ahead. However, it’s wonderful to feel our daughter wriggling around and to be getting her room ready.

I’d love to be at the stage of holding my completed book or baby in my hands, but can’t accelerate the process, I just have to learn to love the stage I’m at.

Related posts: Putting the baby to bed 

Strength in numbers

Something that appeals to me about making writing my career is working on my own. Though I have an agent and I have consulted others for their advice, it is a solitary occupation. I enjoy being able to work at my own pace, without distractions or demands. I am savouring this peace and quiet while it lasts. The arrival of our baby will change the environment I’m working in and the time that I find to write. But even then, when I open my notebook or sit down to type I will be working alone.

There are downsides, though, to working alone. I miss many of my colleagues from teaching, with whom I felt a great camaraderie. Those like minded people with whom I would share two minutes in the corridor on the way to another lesson were a great support. There were always people that I could call on for help, advice and encouragement. There were also moments of great fun and amusement that could be shared.

Writing a book does not just mean working alone, it means that I have to be my own colleagues. I have to make sure that I am at my desk and getting through the word count and that I stay motivated through weeks and weeks of working without feedback. There is some encouragement in the experiences of other writers – I was reading the other day that Malorie Blackman, a very successful children’s author, spent two years trying to get published, receiving eighty two rejection letters along the way. But ultimately, everyone’s experience is different and that she eventually got published is no guarantee that I will.

They say when you’re trying to become pregnant you see pregnant women everywhere. And since I’ve become pregnant, it seems that lots of my friends and family are also having babies this year. As well as my sister and a former colleague, I found out this week that an old school friend is also expecting. It’s great to be able to share being pregnant with others who are going through similar experiences. We also hope to meet other parents in our area when our baby arrives, seeing how supportive these friendships have been for others we know.

While I enjoy the time I spend alone writing, it is good to know that when it comes to having the baby we are certainly not alone.