THE ALLURE OF THE PORTRAIT PAINTER
“I thought what an odd environment it must be where you are being stared at, every square inch of you, by a complete stranger,” says Isabel Wolff, talking about her latest novel, The Very Picture of You
Isabel is not an artist, so interviewed six well known portrait painters at length. “I didn’t sit in on any sittings: I felt that would be too intrusive, but I spoke to them about the technical aspects.” She also had her portrait painted in order to experience the other side of the canvas. “I became fascinated by the relationship between artist and sitter. The intimacy of it and what is said in the sittings: the things that can be revealed as well as those that are hidden.”
Unlike many of her heroines, Isabel has not been jilted at the altar, lost her mother nor had a disappearing husband. But she believes that “novels are informed by who the writer is: their moral judgements about the world and their values and their understanding of human nature. I think that anyone who writes a good novel has to have a sharp eye and an understanding heart.” Isabel believes her earlier journalistic training helped her develop a sharp eye, and the rest of it comes from her own experiences.
Anyone who has read Isabel’s novels knows they are in for a good read. “I aim to write with a mix of poignancy and humour because we can all connect to that,” she says. “I hope my readers enjoy a page turning story with lots of twisty mysteries that takes them out of themselves for a while and they look forward to getting back into.” She looks up and smiles. “I hope they find them rewarding and amusing and think about the book afterwards - I also hope they are as well written as I can make them.”
Writing commercial fiction, Isabel says that the story is the main thing but finds the plot very hard to work out. “It’s like making a map of a place you’ve never been – you’ve got the general terrain but you want to put in the geographical detail and also little blind alleys and cul de sacs to lead the reader down and get them pleasurably lost. But you have to lay the clues properly.” She finds it’s like problem solving. “It’s like making a jigsaw puzzle – you make it then smash it up and the reader puts it together for themselves. It has to be hard to see the pattern but not so hard that they can’t do it.”
Isabel believes that, “The power of a good story well told is to move, entertain and uplift, that is the privilege. That isn’t about how many copies you sell - it’s about touching someone’s heart.”
Her many fans will be pleased to know that the novel she is currently writing, which will be out in 2013, is partly set in Cornwall. “It’s semi-historical like the last two, and has a slightly supernatural element.”
Isabel’s favourite parts of Cornwall are the Roseland Peninsula, and the Isles of Scilly. “All my earliest memories are of Cornwall: the excitement of getting up very early and driving down to Penzance, then the thrill of getting on the Scillonian to get to the beloved Isles of Scilly. “ She smiles as her children run around the garden. “It means so much to me now to be able to give my own children the kind of happiness that I had of Cornwall. It’s a place of intense longing and happiness.”
The Very Picture of You published by HarperCollins available now
Cornwall Today FEb 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
CORNWALL LAUGHTER CLUB
Having fun and keeping healthy
“Everyone knows how to laugh – it’s a language we all use: no one’s taught it, and it makes us feel good,” says Steve Patterson. “A child will laugh on average 3-400 times a day whereas adults only laugh on average 16 times a day – if that.”
Steve Patterson moved to Cornwall in 2001 from Devon, and had numerous jobs but wanted a challenge. “I worked in drug rehabilitation as a support worker and knew the benefits of laughter but wasn’t sure how they could be utilised,” he says. “So I found a course in London on Laughter Yoga. We learned how to take groups including all the different meditations and breathing exercises – some of it was quite spiritual. And we learned how to take it into schools, old people’s homes, prisons, hospitals and businesses.”
Steve was asked to take laughter yoga sessions at the NEC in Birmingham, then at WOMAD and Glastonbury in 2010 which proved such a success that he formed the Cornwall Laughter Yoga Club and hasn’t looked back. Madan Kataria, a medical doctor, started Laughter Yoga with just 5 people from a Mumbai park in 1995. It has become incredibly popular and there are now several thousand clubs in over 65 different countries.
“In early 2011 I trained in India with Madan Kataria, and it was amazing. There were 29 people from 16 different nationalities and it was an amazing way to bring all these nationalities together. There was a man from Vietnam who spoke very little English but was able to communicate through laughter.
“Laughter yoga is a unique concept where anyone can laugh for no reason, without relying on comedy, jokes or a sense of humour,” Steve explains. “We initiate laughter as an exercise in the group, including eye contact, which gets everyone smiling, and lots of childlike playfulness. Soon, the exercises turn into real and contagious laughter. The reason we call it Laughter Yoga is because it combines laughter exercises with Yogic breathing. This encourages increased oxygen to the body and brain which makes you feel more energetic and healthy. The concept of Laughter Yoga is based on scientific fact that the body cannot tell the difference between fake and real laughter – you get the same physiological and psychological benefits.”
Steve believes that childlike playfulness is extremely important. “Children laugh when they’re running along whereas we adults have it drilled into ourselves that we haven’t got time to play - we have to be serious and work. In fact when you bring play and laughter into the workplace it can be so beneficial for team building, self consciousness and creativity.”
Laughter has also been proven to help relieve pain, cancer, depression, anxiety, grief and stress. “Laughter gets the endorphins going which is the body’s happy drug and pain relief. It also gets the body’s immune system going,” Steve explains. “Norman Cousins wrote a book called The Anatomy of an Illness – he was very ill and found that if he laughed heartily for 10 minutes he had 2 hours of being pain free.”
Steve currently runs sessions in Newquay and is looking to expand into Falmouth and Truro. “My ultimate dream is to have a laughter club in every town in Cornwall,” he says – with a laugh.
But he has found the western perception of Laughter Yoga different from that in India. “I’m concerned that the name Laughter Yoga doesn’t capture the essence of what it’s about,” he says. “We don’t do yoga poses - it’s all about yogic breathing, so we need to come up with another name. In India yoga is known as being very spiritual whereas here it’s more known for keeping fit. 10 minutes’ laughter yoga is equivalent to 30 minutes on a rowing machine for cardiovascular exercise but there’s more to it than that.”
Helen Young would agree, having been to Steve’s classes. “I’m a great believer in the healing power of laughter – none of us laugh enough,” she says. “A lot of women release stress from crying and I think it’s more healthy to release stress through laughter. It also exercises the lungs and keeps me feeling younger. The idea is to try and get people to regain their sense of humour, which I think has really gone downhill – because of political correctness people are afraid to laugh these days.”
And how did she feel after the first class? “It was a definite release of stress and put me in a good mood for days,” she says. “A great place to practise is in the car – I tried and felt a lot better for it. It made me see things a bit differently.”
A sentiment that Steve echoes. “I’m passionate about how fantastic I feel after a session, both as a teacher and a student,” he says. “Laughter yoga has taught me the importance of laughter and playfulness in life for everybody. We don’t laugh as much as we could, and I think that could be why we get ill and stressed.” He pauses and his eyes crinkle up into another smile. “The best times we have are when we’re laughing and having fun.”
Cornwall Laughter Club has sessions on Thursdays at 7pm at the Hotel Victoria in Newquay
www.cornwalllaughterclub.org
info@cornwalllaughterclub.org
Cornwall Today March 2012
“Everyone knows how to laugh – it’s a language we all use: no one’s taught it, and it makes us feel good,” says Steve Patterson. “A child will laugh on average 3-400 times a day whereas adults only laugh on average 16 times a day – if that.”
Steve Patterson moved to Cornwall in 2001 from Devon, and had numerous jobs but wanted a challenge. “I worked in drug rehabilitation as a support worker and knew the benefits of laughter but wasn’t sure how they could be utilised,” he says. “So I found a course in London on Laughter Yoga. We learned how to take groups including all the different meditations and breathing exercises – some of it was quite spiritual. And we learned how to take it into schools, old people’s homes, prisons, hospitals and businesses.”
Steve was asked to take laughter yoga sessions at the NEC in Birmingham, then at WOMAD and Glastonbury in 2010 which proved such a success that he formed the Cornwall Laughter Yoga Club and hasn’t looked back. Madan Kataria, a medical doctor, started Laughter Yoga with just 5 people from a Mumbai park in 1995. It has become incredibly popular and there are now several thousand clubs in over 65 different countries.
“In early 2011 I trained in India with Madan Kataria, and it was amazing. There were 29 people from 16 different nationalities and it was an amazing way to bring all these nationalities together. There was a man from Vietnam who spoke very little English but was able to communicate through laughter.
“Laughter yoga is a unique concept where anyone can laugh for no reason, without relying on comedy, jokes or a sense of humour,” Steve explains. “We initiate laughter as an exercise in the group, including eye contact, which gets everyone smiling, and lots of childlike playfulness. Soon, the exercises turn into real and contagious laughter. The reason we call it Laughter Yoga is because it combines laughter exercises with Yogic breathing. This encourages increased oxygen to the body and brain which makes you feel more energetic and healthy. The concept of Laughter Yoga is based on scientific fact that the body cannot tell the difference between fake and real laughter – you get the same physiological and psychological benefits.”
Steve believes that childlike playfulness is extremely important. “Children laugh when they’re running along whereas we adults have it drilled into ourselves that we haven’t got time to play - we have to be serious and work. In fact when you bring play and laughter into the workplace it can be so beneficial for team building, self consciousness and creativity.”
Laughter has also been proven to help relieve pain, cancer, depression, anxiety, grief and stress. “Laughter gets the endorphins going which is the body’s happy drug and pain relief. It also gets the body’s immune system going,” Steve explains. “Norman Cousins wrote a book called The Anatomy of an Illness – he was very ill and found that if he laughed heartily for 10 minutes he had 2 hours of being pain free.”
Steve currently runs sessions in Newquay and is looking to expand into Falmouth and Truro. “My ultimate dream is to have a laughter club in every town in Cornwall,” he says – with a laugh.
But he has found the western perception of Laughter Yoga different from that in India. “I’m concerned that the name Laughter Yoga doesn’t capture the essence of what it’s about,” he says. “We don’t do yoga poses - it’s all about yogic breathing, so we need to come up with another name. In India yoga is known as being very spiritual whereas here it’s more known for keeping fit. 10 minutes’ laughter yoga is equivalent to 30 minutes on a rowing machine for cardiovascular exercise but there’s more to it than that.”
Helen Young would agree, having been to Steve’s classes. “I’m a great believer in the healing power of laughter – none of us laugh enough,” she says. “A lot of women release stress from crying and I think it’s more healthy to release stress through laughter. It also exercises the lungs and keeps me feeling younger. The idea is to try and get people to regain their sense of humour, which I think has really gone downhill – because of political correctness people are afraid to laugh these days.”
And how did she feel after the first class? “It was a definite release of stress and put me in a good mood for days,” she says. “A great place to practise is in the car – I tried and felt a lot better for it. It made me see things a bit differently.”
A sentiment that Steve echoes. “I’m passionate about how fantastic I feel after a session, both as a teacher and a student,” he says. “Laughter yoga has taught me the importance of laughter and playfulness in life for everybody. We don’t laugh as much as we could, and I think that could be why we get ill and stressed.” He pauses and his eyes crinkle up into another smile. “The best times we have are when we’re laughing and having fun.”
Cornwall Laughter Club has sessions on Thursdays at 7pm at the Hotel Victoria in Newquay
www.cornwalllaughterclub.org
info@cornwalllaughterclub.org
Cornwall Today March 2012
Waterfront Crew
The coolest club for young people in Falmouth
“It’s amazing the stuff that’s dropped onto Falmouth waterfront,” says Mel Bailey, Student Manager at Falmouth School. “We’ve found a gold watch, an entire toilet, a set of false teeth, countless trolleys, stereos, TVs and chairs. On the Roseland we’ve done cleanups by canoe which have been very successful. It’s fun and reaches areas you can’t reach by foot.”
Mel’s talking about some of the work undertaken by the Waterfront Crew, a group of youngsters who work out of school hours to help clean up Falmouth waterfront. In return they receive meals, go sailing or kayaking and learn to work together, so they feel included. As Mel explains, “It's a very simple idea – it's about earning your reward and having fun with it.”
The idea was pioneered in 2007 by Falmouth School in conjunction with Falmouth Police, Falmouth Town Council and local businesses. “We wanted to show the good work that young people can do, make that higher profile to give a boost to their self esteem, and so that the community got to know about them in a balanced way,” explains Mel. “It’s also about a sense of belonging – feeling part of something with others. The bond that has developed between the young people is immense.”
Police Community Support Officer, Sean McDonnell adds, “The waterside area in the town centre looked neglected and no one seemed to take ownership of it, so we thought why don’t we tap into that fantastic natural resource, and clean it up? If we can assist youngsters in trying to take ownership and take care of their own environment we’re helping them develop into good citizens who will want the best for their town,” he continues.
The businesses in the town have been supportive and delighted at what the young people have done, and the cleanups are rewarded with fish and chips, canoeing, sailing, kayaking etc. “From early on the youngsters’ perception was that the town was helping them and providing something, and out of that has come contacts and even employment,” says Sean.
Mel targets young people that she thinks would benefit from the experience, but the selection process is delicate, as she explains: “It’s normally around 20 young people, complemented by extra referrals from the community, the police force, and we blend it in with a mix of other students so they become part of something like any other activity.” It’s all voluntary so it takes place in their own time, after school or at weekends.
Sean adds, “It’s important it’s not seen as a naughty boy reward scheme. So we go for a mix of achievers, some who are vulnerable, young carers, and they grow as a friendship group which has been refreshing to see.” From the policing side, Sean sees other benefits. “It’s built an awful lot of bridges. It’s a great leveler if you’re out trying to kayak or windsurf.” Mel laughs. “They see us fall in the water which happens regularly and that’s a huge barrier breaker.”
The Waterfront Crew have worked with the National Trust, Cornwall Marine Network, Eden Partnership, amongst others, and in 2010 they focused on the gateways to Falmouth to encourage visitors to return. “We cleaned the Dell station, Falmouth Docks cruise ship terminal and also the police station gardens,” says Sean. “The head of Devon & Cornwall Police was stunned and recognized our work as a way forward of embracing young people in the community.”
It’s the youngsters who tend to come up with ideas of where to clean. “They start coming up with ideas for a clean up and select a reward and we see if we can make it possible.” Mel laughs. “The clean ups are as much fun as the rewards which is an unexpected result.” There tend to be 6-8 clean ups in a year, mostly in spring and summer, and in winter they estate cleanups inland in the Falmouth area. But neither Sean nor Mel realized what a huge success this would be. “It’s surpassed my expectations,” says Sean. “We’ve had offers to make it a national blueprint but it wouldn’t work because you need to keep it small or you’d lose that personal side.”
The nurturing aspect is the shared part of the role between Mel and the police. “After the first year, we’ve said if the young people wish to continue and work with younger people, we are more than delighted: it’s good for them to work with other age groups. There’s a huge waiting list now.”
So the plan is to continue as they are, looking after Falmouth, the waterfront, and most importantly, the young people of Falmouth. “It’s about giving consistency to those who don’t have much,” says Mel. “We aim to be there as much as we can for them.”
“It’s amazing the stuff that’s dropped onto Falmouth waterfront,” says Mel Bailey, Student Manager at Falmouth School. “We’ve found a gold watch, an entire toilet, a set of false teeth, countless trolleys, stereos, TVs and chairs. On the Roseland we’ve done cleanups by canoe which have been very successful. It’s fun and reaches areas you can’t reach by foot.”
Mel’s talking about some of the work undertaken by the Waterfront Crew, a group of youngsters who work out of school hours to help clean up Falmouth waterfront. In return they receive meals, go sailing or kayaking and learn to work together, so they feel included. As Mel explains, “It's a very simple idea – it's about earning your reward and having fun with it.”
The idea was pioneered in 2007 by Falmouth School in conjunction with Falmouth Police, Falmouth Town Council and local businesses. “We wanted to show the good work that young people can do, make that higher profile to give a boost to their self esteem, and so that the community got to know about them in a balanced way,” explains Mel. “It’s also about a sense of belonging – feeling part of something with others. The bond that has developed between the young people is immense.”
Police Community Support Officer, Sean McDonnell adds, “The waterside area in the town centre looked neglected and no one seemed to take ownership of it, so we thought why don’t we tap into that fantastic natural resource, and clean it up? If we can assist youngsters in trying to take ownership and take care of their own environment we’re helping them develop into good citizens who will want the best for their town,” he continues.
The businesses in the town have been supportive and delighted at what the young people have done, and the cleanups are rewarded with fish and chips, canoeing, sailing, kayaking etc. “From early on the youngsters’ perception was that the town was helping them and providing something, and out of that has come contacts and even employment,” says Sean.
Mel targets young people that she thinks would benefit from the experience, but the selection process is delicate, as she explains: “It’s normally around 20 young people, complemented by extra referrals from the community, the police force, and we blend it in with a mix of other students so they become part of something like any other activity.” It’s all voluntary so it takes place in their own time, after school or at weekends.
Sean adds, “It’s important it’s not seen as a naughty boy reward scheme. So we go for a mix of achievers, some who are vulnerable, young carers, and they grow as a friendship group which has been refreshing to see.” From the policing side, Sean sees other benefits. “It’s built an awful lot of bridges. It’s a great leveler if you’re out trying to kayak or windsurf.” Mel laughs. “They see us fall in the water which happens regularly and that’s a huge barrier breaker.”
The Waterfront Crew have worked with the National Trust, Cornwall Marine Network, Eden Partnership, amongst others, and in 2010 they focused on the gateways to Falmouth to encourage visitors to return. “We cleaned the Dell station, Falmouth Docks cruise ship terminal and also the police station gardens,” says Sean. “The head of Devon & Cornwall Police was stunned and recognized our work as a way forward of embracing young people in the community.”
It’s the youngsters who tend to come up with ideas of where to clean. “They start coming up with ideas for a clean up and select a reward and we see if we can make it possible.” Mel laughs. “The clean ups are as much fun as the rewards which is an unexpected result.” There tend to be 6-8 clean ups in a year, mostly in spring and summer, and in winter they estate cleanups inland in the Falmouth area. But neither Sean nor Mel realized what a huge success this would be. “It’s surpassed my expectations,” says Sean. “We’ve had offers to make it a national blueprint but it wouldn’t work because you need to keep it small or you’d lose that personal side.”
The nurturing aspect is the shared part of the role between Mel and the police. “After the first year, we’ve said if the young people wish to continue and work with younger people, we are more than delighted: it’s good for them to work with other age groups. There’s a huge waiting list now.”
So the plan is to continue as they are, looking after Falmouth, the waterfront, and most importantly, the young people of Falmouth. “It’s about giving consistency to those who don’t have much,” says Mel. “We aim to be there as much as we can for them.”
Jenny Coleman - ditch the research!
“Every knock back and experience helps in a way, even if it feels horrible at the time,” says Jenny Colgan, bestselling author of novels such as Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend, and The Good, the Bad and the Dumped. “Nobody's life is an unparalleled success, and if you want to write about people's trials and tribulations it probably helps to have had some of your own. Of course it sounds really trite to say that now: it didn't feel like that at the time at all.”
Having struggled herself, Jenny can well empathise: something that is often reflected in her books. “After college I started working in hospitals as an NHS trainee - it was awful, I was terrible at it. Really bad,” she says. “It's tough to be trapped in a career that doesn't suit you, and I was always looking around for something more creative to do. I did try stand up comedy, and I met some fantastic people doing it, but I was never any good at it. I also tried cartooning, children's books and sketch writing - being a novelist was the first thing anyone ever said yes to!”
Jenny’s latest novel, Meet Me at the Cupcake Café, is a comedy about a woman following her heart - which longs to bake for people- over all her sensible instincts. “I suppose if there is a theme, it's to try and find something to do for a living that you love,” she says. “And I know better than most people that it isn't easy!”
Before writing the novel, Jenny wasn’t a cook though she enjoyed watching The Great British Bake Off. “I didn't used to be able to cook, then I learned; that's what the book reflects, really. I really do enjoy cooking and baking, but I'm not a fancy chef. I make a terrific fish curry and brilliant cheese scones (not together), basic stuff like that.”
Despite the fact that the novel encompasses setting up a business, financial implications, health and safety etc., Jenny did very little research. “Like almost anyone else I've worked in bars and restaurants in the past, so I have an idea what goes into a catering business. I'm always impressed by people who run their own cafes or restaurants; it's an incredibly hard way to make a living.
“I think a lot of people who want to write get horribly bogged down in research and getting the details right,” she continues. “It's a total waste of time. Get the characters right; try and feel them as living, breathing humans who have something to say, and worry about the details later.”
Jenny tackles some important issues in this novel – redundancy, dementia, single parenthood as well as lack of confidence and setting up a business, yet with a light touch. “I didn't see it as issue tackling, just using the characters to tell a story,” she explains. “I did fall a bit in love with Pearl and Louis though - the single parent family. As soon as I started thinking about how she could manage a job with a child, I realised how unbelievably difficult it must be. I honestly don't choose types to write about, I get a view in my mind's eye of a person then take it from there, follow my instincts as to what their life is like.”
The setting is also important: Meet Me at the Cupcake Café is set in Stoke Newington, an area well known to Jenny. “It's a real melting pot, you get absolutely all sorts of people there. Also it's in London but it's not on the tube, so it has a proper village-y atmosphere right in the middle of all this high-density housing. It's a great place.”
Jenny now lives in the South of France, and she and her husband have a flat in the City of London for her work. Listening to her description of her family, it’s clear why her books are so popular. “Living in the South of France sounds show-offy but if you saw our house you would realise it really isn’t,” Jenny insists. “My husband is a marine engineer and works a lot round here, and we have three children. Wallace is four and likes calamari, trampolining and making loud announcements about just how he will run the world when he is Spiderman; Michael-Francis is nearly two and likes singing lalala, tucking bears under his arms and peering dubiously at new food, and Delphie is brand new and likes sleeping and the way the sun moves across the tree leaves.”
Although writing seems to come naturally to Jenny, not all her books have been easy to write. “Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend was the hardest to write,” she says. “It was really, really hard to get the tone right; to make this spoiled rich girl sympathetic. My editor and I must have ripped the whole thing apart about four times. I think it's rather good now, but there was a lot of unsightly tugging and sticking going on behind the scenes.” Whereas other books came out with very little effort: “Class, which I wrote as Jane Beaton, just tumbled out, easy as pie, in about four months; we barely changed a word of it.”
When it comes to what makes a good novel, Jenny believes page turning quality is vital. “It's really important, especially when we're all so busy and distracted all the time. My books are meant to be fun, and funny, and I hope I give readers a real urge to keep turning the pages. There's not much I like better than getting into a hot bath with a good book and a big mug of tea.”
Jenny is a self confessed bookworm: “I will read high, low, and the Richard and Judy lists in between. All that matters to me is that it’s good.” Her definition of good writers is eclectic – “Liz Jensen blows my socks off. The Rapture knocked me out. Curtis Sittenfeld is great.” She pauses. “Kashuo Ishiguro- imagine writing Remains of the Day AND Never Let Me Go in one career. I think both of those novels are perfect. Who else? Dan Rhodes is great, Jon Krakeur, and I think the best non-fiction writer at the moment is Michael Lewis.”
It’s clear that Jenny loves her work as “novelist, journalist and occasional radio big gob”. What she particularly enjoys is “Being your own boss, and the sheer fun of it, the chance to disappear into your very own world for a few hours a day.” She smiles. “Plus people are nice to you, and other writers are on the whole really nice, interesting people, and the parties are good.”
So is there anything that she dislikes, or would like to change? “I worry about the future for my industry, but I don't think I'm alone in that; a lot of industries are going through a lot of change.”
Like many writers, Jenny has found social networking to be a bonus for feedback. “Twitter is brill (I'm @jennycolgan); it's a lovely place to interact with readers directly.” But like many authors she steers clear of Amazon reviews. “You can always find something to spoil your day. The best feedback is good sales, it makes me so happy when people are obviously enjoying something and telling their friends.”
Jenny has written and spoken much in defence of ‘chick lit’ as a genre, and is rightly proud of her contribution to commercial women’s fiction. But the fact remains that public opinion is still very dismissive, even though many of these novels tackle vital and often rarely discussed issues. Jenny believes it’s because of “Sexism. That and the fact that a lot of people who don't read very much are idiots.” So who is at fault for this misconception?
“You know what, I’m not sure how much of a problem it is,” she continues. “These books do tackle important issues, and it's entirely possible that having a pink, or genre cover means they reach more people than they would otherwise. I'd much, much rather write a book that reached out to hundreds of thousands of people that had a pastel jacket, than a slim novella with a 1920s photograph on it that was well-reviewed and completely unread except by four blokes wearing expensive glasses who live in quirky apartments.”
There’s no danger of Jenny’s books being read by a mere four people, and her army of fans will all hope she continues to keep writing her intriguing, satisfying books. So how would she like to be remembered? “Like every other single person on this earth: as that old, old person who died safe and warm in her bed, surrounded by people who loved her.”
Meet me at the Cupcake Café is published by Sphere April 2011
Rosie Hopkins’ Sweetshop of Dreams is published by Sphere March 2012
Writers' Forum March 2012
Having struggled herself, Jenny can well empathise: something that is often reflected in her books. “After college I started working in hospitals as an NHS trainee - it was awful, I was terrible at it. Really bad,” she says. “It's tough to be trapped in a career that doesn't suit you, and I was always looking around for something more creative to do. I did try stand up comedy, and I met some fantastic people doing it, but I was never any good at it. I also tried cartooning, children's books and sketch writing - being a novelist was the first thing anyone ever said yes to!”
Jenny’s latest novel, Meet Me at the Cupcake Café, is a comedy about a woman following her heart - which longs to bake for people- over all her sensible instincts. “I suppose if there is a theme, it's to try and find something to do for a living that you love,” she says. “And I know better than most people that it isn't easy!”
Before writing the novel, Jenny wasn’t a cook though she enjoyed watching The Great British Bake Off. “I didn't used to be able to cook, then I learned; that's what the book reflects, really. I really do enjoy cooking and baking, but I'm not a fancy chef. I make a terrific fish curry and brilliant cheese scones (not together), basic stuff like that.”
Despite the fact that the novel encompasses setting up a business, financial implications, health and safety etc., Jenny did very little research. “Like almost anyone else I've worked in bars and restaurants in the past, so I have an idea what goes into a catering business. I'm always impressed by people who run their own cafes or restaurants; it's an incredibly hard way to make a living.
“I think a lot of people who want to write get horribly bogged down in research and getting the details right,” she continues. “It's a total waste of time. Get the characters right; try and feel them as living, breathing humans who have something to say, and worry about the details later.”
Jenny tackles some important issues in this novel – redundancy, dementia, single parenthood as well as lack of confidence and setting up a business, yet with a light touch. “I didn't see it as issue tackling, just using the characters to tell a story,” she explains. “I did fall a bit in love with Pearl and Louis though - the single parent family. As soon as I started thinking about how she could manage a job with a child, I realised how unbelievably difficult it must be. I honestly don't choose types to write about, I get a view in my mind's eye of a person then take it from there, follow my instincts as to what their life is like.”
The setting is also important: Meet Me at the Cupcake Café is set in Stoke Newington, an area well known to Jenny. “It's a real melting pot, you get absolutely all sorts of people there. Also it's in London but it's not on the tube, so it has a proper village-y atmosphere right in the middle of all this high-density housing. It's a great place.”
Jenny now lives in the South of France, and she and her husband have a flat in the City of London for her work. Listening to her description of her family, it’s clear why her books are so popular. “Living in the South of France sounds show-offy but if you saw our house you would realise it really isn’t,” Jenny insists. “My husband is a marine engineer and works a lot round here, and we have three children. Wallace is four and likes calamari, trampolining and making loud announcements about just how he will run the world when he is Spiderman; Michael-Francis is nearly two and likes singing lalala, tucking bears under his arms and peering dubiously at new food, and Delphie is brand new and likes sleeping and the way the sun moves across the tree leaves.”
Although writing seems to come naturally to Jenny, not all her books have been easy to write. “Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend was the hardest to write,” she says. “It was really, really hard to get the tone right; to make this spoiled rich girl sympathetic. My editor and I must have ripped the whole thing apart about four times. I think it's rather good now, but there was a lot of unsightly tugging and sticking going on behind the scenes.” Whereas other books came out with very little effort: “Class, which I wrote as Jane Beaton, just tumbled out, easy as pie, in about four months; we barely changed a word of it.”
When it comes to what makes a good novel, Jenny believes page turning quality is vital. “It's really important, especially when we're all so busy and distracted all the time. My books are meant to be fun, and funny, and I hope I give readers a real urge to keep turning the pages. There's not much I like better than getting into a hot bath with a good book and a big mug of tea.”
Jenny is a self confessed bookworm: “I will read high, low, and the Richard and Judy lists in between. All that matters to me is that it’s good.” Her definition of good writers is eclectic – “Liz Jensen blows my socks off. The Rapture knocked me out. Curtis Sittenfeld is great.” She pauses. “Kashuo Ishiguro- imagine writing Remains of the Day AND Never Let Me Go in one career. I think both of those novels are perfect. Who else? Dan Rhodes is great, Jon Krakeur, and I think the best non-fiction writer at the moment is Michael Lewis.”
It’s clear that Jenny loves her work as “novelist, journalist and occasional radio big gob”. What she particularly enjoys is “Being your own boss, and the sheer fun of it, the chance to disappear into your very own world for a few hours a day.” She smiles. “Plus people are nice to you, and other writers are on the whole really nice, interesting people, and the parties are good.”
So is there anything that she dislikes, or would like to change? “I worry about the future for my industry, but I don't think I'm alone in that; a lot of industries are going through a lot of change.”
Like many writers, Jenny has found social networking to be a bonus for feedback. “Twitter is brill (I'm @jennycolgan); it's a lovely place to interact with readers directly.” But like many authors she steers clear of Amazon reviews. “You can always find something to spoil your day. The best feedback is good sales, it makes me so happy when people are obviously enjoying something and telling their friends.”
Jenny has written and spoken much in defence of ‘chick lit’ as a genre, and is rightly proud of her contribution to commercial women’s fiction. But the fact remains that public opinion is still very dismissive, even though many of these novels tackle vital and often rarely discussed issues. Jenny believes it’s because of “Sexism. That and the fact that a lot of people who don't read very much are idiots.” So who is at fault for this misconception?
“You know what, I’m not sure how much of a problem it is,” she continues. “These books do tackle important issues, and it's entirely possible that having a pink, or genre cover means they reach more people than they would otherwise. I'd much, much rather write a book that reached out to hundreds of thousands of people that had a pastel jacket, than a slim novella with a 1920s photograph on it that was well-reviewed and completely unread except by four blokes wearing expensive glasses who live in quirky apartments.”
There’s no danger of Jenny’s books being read by a mere four people, and her army of fans will all hope she continues to keep writing her intriguing, satisfying books. So how would she like to be remembered? “Like every other single person on this earth: as that old, old person who died safe and warm in her bed, surrounded by people who loved her.”
Meet me at the Cupcake Café is published by Sphere April 2011
Rosie Hopkins’ Sweetshop of Dreams is published by Sphere March 2012
Writers' Forum March 2012
Friday, December 16, 2011
Ian Rankin
The secret of good research, and how to play God
“I find writing crime quite cathartic – it gets it out of your system, so crime writers tend to be fairly well balanced people,” says Ian Rankin. Crime fiction is also brilliant if you want to write social realism – the problems we have in society whether economic, racism, it’s a great medium for exploring these questions. I there’s a preoccupation with Scottish writing per se - the notion that we all carry within us the ability to be good and to be evil.” He pauses. “If you look at The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, you’re never sure if she’s a force for evil or for good and I like the ambiguity. Are some people born evil or made evil?”
Ian Rankin’s soft Scottish burr gives an added intensity to the ideas that bubble out of him like spring water. As the UK’s number one bestselling crime author, he has won numerous awards and is most famous for his Inspector Rebus books which have been translated into 23 languages and are bestsellers on several continents as well as being made into a major TV series.
But Rebus wasn’t popular straight away. “It was book 7 or 8 before I hit the bestseller lists,” says Ian, “I was lucky that publishers would take a risk then, i.e. publishing at a loss for a long time in the hope that eventually they would find an audience. When the books did find an audience it was a big one.”
So why are the Rebus books so popular? “He’s a conflicted character with a lot of baggage – he’s not easy to get on with.” Ian laughs. “I guess male readers like him because he can do things they wish they could still do, such as play rock music late into the night, and drink whisky. I don’t know why women like him – maybe they want to change him. They seem to want him to stop smoking and have a decent meal.” He pauses. “But he’s a maverick, and we all have a soft spot for mavericks.”
The Impossible Dead, out October 2011, sees the return of Malcolm Fox. “Having spent some time with Malcolm I felt the process wasn’t yet complete so I thought I’d find something else for him to do. I liked the milieu he works in – Internal Affairs, and the idea of cops who are more like professional voyeurs – they are investigating themselves so they are liked by nobody,” Ian explains. “To be that kind of person you have to have a certain mentality that is pretty much 180 degrees from Rebus.”
A sense of place is very important in Rankin’s books. “The Rebus books have a strong sense of Edinburgh,” explains Ian. “I think it’s something that crime fiction does very well. You can walk through Maigret’s Paris, or Raymond Chandler’s Los Angeles, and I wanted to show a side of Edinburgh that people don’t usually see, and I thought a detective was a good way to do that because police have access to different layers of society.” He pauses. “I still write about Edinburgh because I still haven’t found out what makes it tick.” For those eager to experience Edinburgh through Rebus’s eyes, there is now the Rebus Walking Tour and if you have an Iphone Rebus has his own App. “I think readers like that it takes place in a real city with real pubs and a real police station; as an author it helps to get the readers to suspend disbelief. If they know that this stuff is real they might start to believe that what I write is also real.”
Having read his books, it’s surprising to hear that he doesn’t do a lot of research. “I’m not research heavy. I go to the police if I have a specific problem but I don’t want my books to be PR exercises for the police.” The research doesn’t come till after Ian starts writing. “I get a question that I want to try and answer, and find a plot to allow me to do that. Then once I’ve done work on the structure I start writing. Between the first and second draft I’ll go and visit the place. An agent said to me a long time ago, ‘Keep writing, do the research after.’ Sometimes you can know too much and the secret of good research is to persuade the reader that you’ve done it without hitting them over the head with a sledgehammer.”
When it comes to the requisites for a good crime novel, Ian believes there is no easy answer. “There are tightly structured whodunnits like Jonathan Creek which are about solving the puzzle, or some books are about spending quality time with a character detective. Other books explore a sense of place in a different culture like Vienna or Los Angeles, and some books are about social commentary and ask big moral questions about the state of the world.” Ian pauses. “Put them all together and you get a rollercoaster ride of tension and danger thrown in which for a reader is about getting ‘a lot of bang for your buck,’ as the Americans would say. Hopefully you’re getting all of those.”
Given all the ingredients required, Ian does not plan his books in any detail. “I’ve never been to a creative writing class: I’ve tried teaching it and find it incredibly difficult because I just write off the top of my head most of the time,” he explains. “I’ve got a theme I want to explore, I’ve got the inklings of a plot, I’ve got enough notes to write the first 20 to 30 pages and by the time I’ve written these first 30 pages I’ve introduced a cast of characters and I’ve decided which are relevant, but the story constantly surprises me.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen when I start writing: the book knows what’s going to happen, but I don’t. And so the story will say, ‘hang on , Ian, we need to go here now because that guy who walked out 20 pages ago is the guy who was in the hotel that night’. And I go, ‘oh right! I didn’t know that!’ So the first draft of the book is me playing detective: getting to know the characters and their motives and how useful they can be. I don’t take a lot of notes before I start but I make notes as I go along during the course of the first draft.” He pauses. “It all gets tidied up in the 2nd or 3rd draft. The first draft is making sure the plot makes sense. I write that very quickly – in about 2 months. The 2nd/3rd draft puts meat on the skeleton of the characters, colours in the settings so they are vibrant and realistic, makes sure the theme is there; that’s when the hard work gets done. Then it gets finished about mid June.”
So what does Ian find hardest about writing crime? “Making it all work! You’ve usually got a large cast of characters, maybe 3 or 4 different subplots that eventually need to meet up, and I don’t know how it will end. It’s only when I get to know the characters that I know who the potential villains are. And there is this fear that this time you’re going to fall flat on your face: that it won’t work out.”
Of course Ian Rankin’s books always work out in the end, a fact that he doesn’t take for granted. “The most enjoyable moments are when I start to see connections between characters and plots. But sometimes it can be the second draft when that happens which is really quite worrying.”
Having written since he was a young boy, it’s clear that Ian has found his métier in life and loves it. “I get to play God!” He laughs. “This morning there was a big queue in the post office: a guy at the head of the queue was taking his time, holding everyone up, and I can just come home and kill him! That is quite cathartic – the power of life and death.” He pauses. “Also I think writers are all children who’ve refused to grow up so we still play with imaginary friends. It keeps you young,” he adds cheerfully.
When it comes to advice for writers, Ian believes that reading is vital. “Read lots of writers and maybe early on copy their style, whether consciously or sub consciously, and only through doing that does your own style emerge,” he says. “You have to have a story that you don’t think anyone else is doing, but apart from that there really are no rules. The structure for a crime novel is crime, investigation, resolution, but within that you can do pretty much anything you want.” He pauses. “And if you’re really clever you don’t even need to stick to that.”
The Impossible Dead is published by Orion October 2011
Writers' Forum January 2012
“I find writing crime quite cathartic – it gets it out of your system, so crime writers tend to be fairly well balanced people,” says Ian Rankin. Crime fiction is also brilliant if you want to write social realism – the problems we have in society whether economic, racism, it’s a great medium for exploring these questions. I there’s a preoccupation with Scottish writing per se - the notion that we all carry within us the ability to be good and to be evil.” He pauses. “If you look at The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, you’re never sure if she’s a force for evil or for good and I like the ambiguity. Are some people born evil or made evil?”
Ian Rankin’s soft Scottish burr gives an added intensity to the ideas that bubble out of him like spring water. As the UK’s number one bestselling crime author, he has won numerous awards and is most famous for his Inspector Rebus books which have been translated into 23 languages and are bestsellers on several continents as well as being made into a major TV series.
But Rebus wasn’t popular straight away. “It was book 7 or 8 before I hit the bestseller lists,” says Ian, “I was lucky that publishers would take a risk then, i.e. publishing at a loss for a long time in the hope that eventually they would find an audience. When the books did find an audience it was a big one.”
So why are the Rebus books so popular? “He’s a conflicted character with a lot of baggage – he’s not easy to get on with.” Ian laughs. “I guess male readers like him because he can do things they wish they could still do, such as play rock music late into the night, and drink whisky. I don’t know why women like him – maybe they want to change him. They seem to want him to stop smoking and have a decent meal.” He pauses. “But he’s a maverick, and we all have a soft spot for mavericks.”
The Impossible Dead, out October 2011, sees the return of Malcolm Fox. “Having spent some time with Malcolm I felt the process wasn’t yet complete so I thought I’d find something else for him to do. I liked the milieu he works in – Internal Affairs, and the idea of cops who are more like professional voyeurs – they are investigating themselves so they are liked by nobody,” Ian explains. “To be that kind of person you have to have a certain mentality that is pretty much 180 degrees from Rebus.”
A sense of place is very important in Rankin’s books. “The Rebus books have a strong sense of Edinburgh,” explains Ian. “I think it’s something that crime fiction does very well. You can walk through Maigret’s Paris, or Raymond Chandler’s Los Angeles, and I wanted to show a side of Edinburgh that people don’t usually see, and I thought a detective was a good way to do that because police have access to different layers of society.” He pauses. “I still write about Edinburgh because I still haven’t found out what makes it tick.” For those eager to experience Edinburgh through Rebus’s eyes, there is now the Rebus Walking Tour and if you have an Iphone Rebus has his own App. “I think readers like that it takes place in a real city with real pubs and a real police station; as an author it helps to get the readers to suspend disbelief. If they know that this stuff is real they might start to believe that what I write is also real.”
Having read his books, it’s surprising to hear that he doesn’t do a lot of research. “I’m not research heavy. I go to the police if I have a specific problem but I don’t want my books to be PR exercises for the police.” The research doesn’t come till after Ian starts writing. “I get a question that I want to try and answer, and find a plot to allow me to do that. Then once I’ve done work on the structure I start writing. Between the first and second draft I’ll go and visit the place. An agent said to me a long time ago, ‘Keep writing, do the research after.’ Sometimes you can know too much and the secret of good research is to persuade the reader that you’ve done it without hitting them over the head with a sledgehammer.”
When it comes to the requisites for a good crime novel, Ian believes there is no easy answer. “There are tightly structured whodunnits like Jonathan Creek which are about solving the puzzle, or some books are about spending quality time with a character detective. Other books explore a sense of place in a different culture like Vienna or Los Angeles, and some books are about social commentary and ask big moral questions about the state of the world.” Ian pauses. “Put them all together and you get a rollercoaster ride of tension and danger thrown in which for a reader is about getting ‘a lot of bang for your buck,’ as the Americans would say. Hopefully you’re getting all of those.”
Given all the ingredients required, Ian does not plan his books in any detail. “I’ve never been to a creative writing class: I’ve tried teaching it and find it incredibly difficult because I just write off the top of my head most of the time,” he explains. “I’ve got a theme I want to explore, I’ve got the inklings of a plot, I’ve got enough notes to write the first 20 to 30 pages and by the time I’ve written these first 30 pages I’ve introduced a cast of characters and I’ve decided which are relevant, but the story constantly surprises me.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen when I start writing: the book knows what’s going to happen, but I don’t. And so the story will say, ‘hang on , Ian, we need to go here now because that guy who walked out 20 pages ago is the guy who was in the hotel that night’. And I go, ‘oh right! I didn’t know that!’ So the first draft of the book is me playing detective: getting to know the characters and their motives and how useful they can be. I don’t take a lot of notes before I start but I make notes as I go along during the course of the first draft.” He pauses. “It all gets tidied up in the 2nd or 3rd draft. The first draft is making sure the plot makes sense. I write that very quickly – in about 2 months. The 2nd/3rd draft puts meat on the skeleton of the characters, colours in the settings so they are vibrant and realistic, makes sure the theme is there; that’s when the hard work gets done. Then it gets finished about mid June.”
So what does Ian find hardest about writing crime? “Making it all work! You’ve usually got a large cast of characters, maybe 3 or 4 different subplots that eventually need to meet up, and I don’t know how it will end. It’s only when I get to know the characters that I know who the potential villains are. And there is this fear that this time you’re going to fall flat on your face: that it won’t work out.”
Of course Ian Rankin’s books always work out in the end, a fact that he doesn’t take for granted. “The most enjoyable moments are when I start to see connections between characters and plots. But sometimes it can be the second draft when that happens which is really quite worrying.”
Having written since he was a young boy, it’s clear that Ian has found his métier in life and loves it. “I get to play God!” He laughs. “This morning there was a big queue in the post office: a guy at the head of the queue was taking his time, holding everyone up, and I can just come home and kill him! That is quite cathartic – the power of life and death.” He pauses. “Also I think writers are all children who’ve refused to grow up so we still play with imaginary friends. It keeps you young,” he adds cheerfully.
When it comes to advice for writers, Ian believes that reading is vital. “Read lots of writers and maybe early on copy their style, whether consciously or sub consciously, and only through doing that does your own style emerge,” he says. “You have to have a story that you don’t think anyone else is doing, but apart from that there really are no rules. The structure for a crime novel is crime, investigation, resolution, but within that you can do pretty much anything you want.” He pauses. “And if you’re really clever you don’t even need to stick to that.”
The Impossible Dead is published by Orion October 2011
Writers' Forum January 2012
Monday, August 8, 2011
BILL BRYSON
BLENDING HUMOUR ONTO EVERY PAGE
“I do think one of the most adorable and admirable qualities of British people is their sense of humour,” says Bill Bryson. “It’s the best sense of humour in the world.” And as an American famous for his highly entertaining books, he should know.
“I think humour is just something I naturally do,” he explains in his measured, quiet voice. “We all have certain language skills that we do well and things we don’t do so well. I always struggle with descriptive passages or lyrical prose, but I seem to have more of a knack for seeing a joke and I learned to make a virtue of that.” He smiles. “Technically it’s a real challenge to write humour successfully but I find it’s very satisfying.”
Though of course Bill doesn’t just write humour – he has written books about travel, the English language, science, history, a memoir, his love of the English countryside, and about the home. “I’d gladly write another 25 books if I thought I was going to live long enough,” he continues. “I think from now onwards, I have to start getting more selective and for that reason I’m taking more care in committing to the next book. But I haven’t made a decision yet.”
Bill grew up surrounded by books. “We had floor to ceiling bookshelves and I used to go in and just take these books down - I had no idea what I was reading and discovered people like P.G. Wodehouse and Robert Benchley; all funny writers.” But it was Wodehouse that made an impression on the young American. “P.G. Wodehouse particularly seemed wildly exotic, describing life in England in a way that I had no personal connection to; it was just funny and engaging. That was very important to me - not just in writing in a way that made people laugh, but also being able to connect with people.”
Bill’s parents were both journalists so it was no surprise that he chose to become one.
“I wasn’t under pressure but it was just the natural progression, and English was the only thing I was ever any good at,” he explains. “I didn’t have any scientific or mathematical aptitude.” So Bill worked as a sub in Bournemouth, then went to London. “I worked for the Times, and then I worked on the Independent when it first started which was a very exciting period.” He smiles. “I’m proud to say I was one of the founding journalists (of the Independent) - though not a very important one,” he adds. “Then we moved to Yorkshire and I quit my job and was a freelance all the time.”
The move from journalism to writing books was a gradual one. “When I was working at the Evening Echo in Bournemouth, I started doing freelance articles to earn more money as I had a young family, and little by little I discovered it was something I enjoyed very much. I started writing books in my spare time and I thought this is what I would really like to do – not commute into London every day and fight the crowds and all of that, but live in a nice rural, idyllic spot and write for a living.” He pauses. “At the time I wrote articles and books – you know, anything that people would pay for – and that’s what I have done ever since.”
Bill’s writing day starts very early, before he’s properly awake. “I get up around 5-5.30 at this time of year and have one cup of coffee with my wife, and we have a brief chat about what we intend to achieve that day.” And his endearing honesty is one reason why his books are so incredibly popular. “Then I take my second cup of coffee and go to my desk and start writing before I have any time to reflect on how little I want to work - that’s the only way I can do it. If I went to check things in the greenhouse, I would never get back to my desk.”
When it comes to planning his books, Bill needs to know where they are going. “I don’t necessarily write them sequentially; I hop around a bit, but I do need a clear idea of what ground I’m going to cover and how to link all these things up.” He frowns. “Sometimes you discover things or stumble across devices as you work away on it, but at other times, in a weird way, what goes on in your head doesn’t actually seem to relate to what comes out of your fingertips.”
His current book, At Home, came about when his family returned from America to live in England in 2003 and it was time to come up with the idea for a new book. “I’d just written A Short History of Nearly Everything and took on the whole universe and I thought what’s left to do? I was sitting at the kitchen table and realized that a house is sort of a universe in its own right. The idea was that I would wander from room to room and write a history of the world from the perspective of each room, and how those rooms had been lived in throughout history. So the bedroom would be the history of sex and sleep, the bathroom of hygiene, the kitchen cooking and so on.”
For such a prolific writer, I was surprised when Bill announced that all his books have been “a nightmare” to write. But the hardest was A Walk in the Woods, about walking the Appalachian Trail. “Essentially we were just walking which is the hardest thing in the world to write about,” he explains. “I felt there was no material for a book and I felt quite gloomy about the whole thing. So when I finally managed to get a book out of this experience, I felt most pleased.” He pauses. “I realized of course that things did happen but I didn’t necessarily pay much attention to them at the time. This happens every time I write a travel book.”
It is clear that Bill is content with his life, although not so happy about getting older. “I turned 60 this year and it does make you realize that there is a finite period. But I very much enjoy writing and I don’t want to stop working: I feel lucky to be able to do it.” He gives another slow smile. “Writing to me is the greatest indulgence in the world because I can indulge a huge area of curiosity and make a living from it. I can’t think of a better wheeze than that!”
Although he concedes that life is tougher now. “It’s harder being freelance. One of the things that I used to be able to do was sell the same articles over and over. One to the Washington Post and then to the San Francisco Chronicle and the Chicago Tribune and you can’t do that any more because you sell it to the Washington Post and they put it online and they have world rights. So it’s become a lot harder to find markets for some things.”
But when it comes to new writers getting published, Bill is pragmatic. “It is difficult but it’s always been difficult, and a lot of aspiring writers think that it’s a question of being sprinkled with fairy dust, whereas it’s actually mostly hard work and application and the ability to withstand rejection and keep plugging away.” He pauses. “Just go into any big bookshop and look at all those books - every single one of those writers was unknown when they started out. Half a million books get published every year so it’s not that remarkable a thing – it’s a question of persevering. Though if you do fail again and again you do have to ask yourself is this the right line of work for me?
“You have to be able to take rejection without taking it personally,” he continues. At first it’s natural to feel slightly crushed and that the odds are stacked against you. But I don’t think publishing is stacked against you any more than life is generally. Assuming that you have some talent and a real story to tell then things will come good for you.”
At Home is published by Transworld, out now.
Writers' Forum August 2011
“I do think one of the most adorable and admirable qualities of British people is their sense of humour,” says Bill Bryson. “It’s the best sense of humour in the world.” And as an American famous for his highly entertaining books, he should know.
“I think humour is just something I naturally do,” he explains in his measured, quiet voice. “We all have certain language skills that we do well and things we don’t do so well. I always struggle with descriptive passages or lyrical prose, but I seem to have more of a knack for seeing a joke and I learned to make a virtue of that.” He smiles. “Technically it’s a real challenge to write humour successfully but I find it’s very satisfying.”
Though of course Bill doesn’t just write humour – he has written books about travel, the English language, science, history, a memoir, his love of the English countryside, and about the home. “I’d gladly write another 25 books if I thought I was going to live long enough,” he continues. “I think from now onwards, I have to start getting more selective and for that reason I’m taking more care in committing to the next book. But I haven’t made a decision yet.”
Bill grew up surrounded by books. “We had floor to ceiling bookshelves and I used to go in and just take these books down - I had no idea what I was reading and discovered people like P.G. Wodehouse and Robert Benchley; all funny writers.” But it was Wodehouse that made an impression on the young American. “P.G. Wodehouse particularly seemed wildly exotic, describing life in England in a way that I had no personal connection to; it was just funny and engaging. That was very important to me - not just in writing in a way that made people laugh, but also being able to connect with people.”
Bill’s parents were both journalists so it was no surprise that he chose to become one.
“I wasn’t under pressure but it was just the natural progression, and English was the only thing I was ever any good at,” he explains. “I didn’t have any scientific or mathematical aptitude.” So Bill worked as a sub in Bournemouth, then went to London. “I worked for the Times, and then I worked on the Independent when it first started which was a very exciting period.” He smiles. “I’m proud to say I was one of the founding journalists (of the Independent) - though not a very important one,” he adds. “Then we moved to Yorkshire and I quit my job and was a freelance all the time.”
The move from journalism to writing books was a gradual one. “When I was working at the Evening Echo in Bournemouth, I started doing freelance articles to earn more money as I had a young family, and little by little I discovered it was something I enjoyed very much. I started writing books in my spare time and I thought this is what I would really like to do – not commute into London every day and fight the crowds and all of that, but live in a nice rural, idyllic spot and write for a living.” He pauses. “At the time I wrote articles and books – you know, anything that people would pay for – and that’s what I have done ever since.”
Bill’s writing day starts very early, before he’s properly awake. “I get up around 5-5.30 at this time of year and have one cup of coffee with my wife, and we have a brief chat about what we intend to achieve that day.” And his endearing honesty is one reason why his books are so incredibly popular. “Then I take my second cup of coffee and go to my desk and start writing before I have any time to reflect on how little I want to work - that’s the only way I can do it. If I went to check things in the greenhouse, I would never get back to my desk.”
When it comes to planning his books, Bill needs to know where they are going. “I don’t necessarily write them sequentially; I hop around a bit, but I do need a clear idea of what ground I’m going to cover and how to link all these things up.” He frowns. “Sometimes you discover things or stumble across devices as you work away on it, but at other times, in a weird way, what goes on in your head doesn’t actually seem to relate to what comes out of your fingertips.”
His current book, At Home, came about when his family returned from America to live in England in 2003 and it was time to come up with the idea for a new book. “I’d just written A Short History of Nearly Everything and took on the whole universe and I thought what’s left to do? I was sitting at the kitchen table and realized that a house is sort of a universe in its own right. The idea was that I would wander from room to room and write a history of the world from the perspective of each room, and how those rooms had been lived in throughout history. So the bedroom would be the history of sex and sleep, the bathroom of hygiene, the kitchen cooking and so on.”
For such a prolific writer, I was surprised when Bill announced that all his books have been “a nightmare” to write. But the hardest was A Walk in the Woods, about walking the Appalachian Trail. “Essentially we were just walking which is the hardest thing in the world to write about,” he explains. “I felt there was no material for a book and I felt quite gloomy about the whole thing. So when I finally managed to get a book out of this experience, I felt most pleased.” He pauses. “I realized of course that things did happen but I didn’t necessarily pay much attention to them at the time. This happens every time I write a travel book.”
It is clear that Bill is content with his life, although not so happy about getting older. “I turned 60 this year and it does make you realize that there is a finite period. But I very much enjoy writing and I don’t want to stop working: I feel lucky to be able to do it.” He gives another slow smile. “Writing to me is the greatest indulgence in the world because I can indulge a huge area of curiosity and make a living from it. I can’t think of a better wheeze than that!”
Although he concedes that life is tougher now. “It’s harder being freelance. One of the things that I used to be able to do was sell the same articles over and over. One to the Washington Post and then to the San Francisco Chronicle and the Chicago Tribune and you can’t do that any more because you sell it to the Washington Post and they put it online and they have world rights. So it’s become a lot harder to find markets for some things.”
But when it comes to new writers getting published, Bill is pragmatic. “It is difficult but it’s always been difficult, and a lot of aspiring writers think that it’s a question of being sprinkled with fairy dust, whereas it’s actually mostly hard work and application and the ability to withstand rejection and keep plugging away.” He pauses. “Just go into any big bookshop and look at all those books - every single one of those writers was unknown when they started out. Half a million books get published every year so it’s not that remarkable a thing – it’s a question of persevering. Though if you do fail again and again you do have to ask yourself is this the right line of work for me?
“You have to be able to take rejection without taking it personally,” he continues. At first it’s natural to feel slightly crushed and that the odds are stacked against you. But I don’t think publishing is stacked against you any more than life is generally. Assuming that you have some talent and a real story to tell then things will come good for you.”
At Home is published by Transworld, out now.
Writers' Forum August 2011
Par Walk
Airing our hangovers with “foreign” friends from over the Tamar
I originally met John and Annie as they lived in the same village as my mum. Over the last few years we've had holidays together: my husband did the cooking, while John and Annie and I explored before settling down to enjoy Pip’s cooking. Last time, John had a bad back so we decided on a shortish circular walk starting off at Par Beach to air our hangovers.
From Fowey, we took the main St Austell road (A3082), turning left just before the railway bridge at the bottom of Polmear Hill, past the Ship pub. Continuing along this road for several hundred yards, we parked in the car park on the left, near Par Beach, which is free in winter.
We walked back towards the Ship pub with a row of almshouses next door: these were built in 1650 by the Rashleigh family and converted into modern houses in 1977/8. By Chapel Cottage there is a Saints Way sign and a yellow waymark leading uphill to a very steep path, populated by holly trees with rich red berries and festooned with particularly vicious nettles which weren't good for myself and John, both wearing shorts. We struggled and panted up the path which led to a large field at the top of the hill populated by five very lovely horses.
John was route master for this walk, and directed us across the field where a faint path could be seen through the grass heading towards the trees on the skyline. Looking down over the huge Par Beach is a fabulous sight: St Austell Bay stretched out in the distance, while the china clay chimneys smouldered around Par Harbour, and we could see a huge pool, next door to the caravan park.
John found some mushrooms here but discarded them as not being good enough – having picked them since he was a child he is something of a connoisseur. We turned right here, parallel to the hedge, heading inland until we reached another stile on the right, with a rotted waymark sign lying forlornly on the ground. We walked diagonally left until we reached a double wooden and granite stile in the corner of the field which led us to the busy, fast road heading down Polmear Hill.
Hurrying over the road we reached the pavement on the opposite side and headed uphill. Ahead was a road sign to Polkerris Beach and Menabilly on the right and we took that, past the sign to Trill Horse Trail and walked along, passed a lone letterbox. Turning right again down to Polkerris, the clouds parted and we walked down the narrow and steep hill with high banks on either side smelling of warm wet earth from the recent rain, fresh autumn air, and a sudden blast of white sunshine gleaming off glossy ivy leaves. Blackbirds sang on either side as we passed underneath the remains of a footbridge, with dense, ivy clad woods on either side.
We walked past a cottage draped in Virginia Creeper and a couple of blue tits feeding in the garden and continued down to Polkerris which consists of several pretty whitewashed cottages with beautiful fuchsias growing in abundance outside. Until the end of the 19th century, Polkerris had one of the largest fish cellars in Cornwall, which still dominate the beach, and a huge fleet of seine boats.
At the bottom of the hill is the Rashleigh Arms, which was orginally in what is now the car park: the present pub building was once a boat shed. The granite wall of the harbour curved like a strong protective arm, and John pointed out several canons tipped up to act as bollards. This pier was built by the Rashleigh family around 1730 and what is now Sam's cafe was the old lifeboat house. John disappeared into the pub to get coffee for our hangovers, while Annie and Mollie and I sat outside in the garden admiring the view over St Austell Bay with the stunningly placed golf course off to the right.
“Don't get too comfortable,” John said a few minutes later. “They don't open till 12.” As it was only 10.30, we headed up the hill in front of a couple of cottages with gardens on either side, planted on an almost sheer cliff face. Fishing nets had been used as bird cages to tend the late raspberries, and Evening Primrose towered on either side of us, nodding lemon yellow heads as we climbed.
At the top we found a bench where we sat and digested the view as we sipped our bottles of water. Far below us a very young father with baby strapped to his body, wandered from the beach to the cafe, back into the car park. “He's probably been awake all night and is frantic for caffeine,” said Annie.
Heading back along the coastal path, we were greeted by the last of the blackberries, devoured by Annie, gradually acquiring a black mouth. Bright red and orange berries glistened in the hedges next to big fat sloes, making us think of sloe gin, and winter log fires. Old Man's Beard grew in abundance next to hawthorn bushes covered in grey-green fingers of lichen.
A cacophony of crows gathered and screeched above us, warned off by seagulls. “What's the collective noun for a group of crows?” asked John. “A congregation?” None of us knew, but having looked it up it is “a murder”: very apt, thinking of The Birds, and this being du Maurier country.
The sun was shining silver on the water far out to sea so we stopped and stared in admiration, while the tip of Gribben Head was just visible over the tops of the far hills. As we looked back, the young father appeared, baby still strapped to his stomach, and suddenly a skein of Canada geese flew over head, honking loudly. To our left, over the sea, flew a bunch of oyster catchers with their eerie scream as we turned the corner and a beautiful hill rose up on our right, in smooth emerald green. The path wound round back to where we started at Par beach, and we noticed the Canada Geese coming in to land on the pond at Par.
As we walked the last of the footpath, the ground was splattered with dark blackberry juice and we climbed down steep steps, over a little bridge and back to where we'd parked the car. Climbing onto the sand dunes, we looked out over Par Sands, where a couple of collies played tag in the lazy waves rippling on the edge of the sea. The sand was studded with silvery reflections and the sun beat down like a blessing. We sighed happily, hangovers gone. What could be better?
FACTBOX
OS Explorer Map 107 St Austell and Liskeard
Grading: a few steep hills, paths can be very muddy after rain. Varied views, landscape and wildlife.
Walk: 2.5 miles
Length: just under 1.5 hours
Dogs are allowed on Par Beach all year round.
Car park at Par Beach £2.10 all day at time of writing. Car park also at Polkerris.
Public toilets at Polkerris
Refreshments: Ship Inn at Par, Rashleigh Arms and Sam's cafe, Polkerris cafe at Polkerris
Cornwall Today 2011
I originally met John and Annie as they lived in the same village as my mum. Over the last few years we've had holidays together: my husband did the cooking, while John and Annie and I explored before settling down to enjoy Pip’s cooking. Last time, John had a bad back so we decided on a shortish circular walk starting off at Par Beach to air our hangovers.
From Fowey, we took the main St Austell road (A3082), turning left just before the railway bridge at the bottom of Polmear Hill, past the Ship pub. Continuing along this road for several hundred yards, we parked in the car park on the left, near Par Beach, which is free in winter.
We walked back towards the Ship pub with a row of almshouses next door: these were built in 1650 by the Rashleigh family and converted into modern houses in 1977/8. By Chapel Cottage there is a Saints Way sign and a yellow waymark leading uphill to a very steep path, populated by holly trees with rich red berries and festooned with particularly vicious nettles which weren't good for myself and John, both wearing shorts. We struggled and panted up the path which led to a large field at the top of the hill populated by five very lovely horses.
John was route master for this walk, and directed us across the field where a faint path could be seen through the grass heading towards the trees on the skyline. Looking down over the huge Par Beach is a fabulous sight: St Austell Bay stretched out in the distance, while the china clay chimneys smouldered around Par Harbour, and we could see a huge pool, next door to the caravan park.
John found some mushrooms here but discarded them as not being good enough – having picked them since he was a child he is something of a connoisseur. We turned right here, parallel to the hedge, heading inland until we reached another stile on the right, with a rotted waymark sign lying forlornly on the ground. We walked diagonally left until we reached a double wooden and granite stile in the corner of the field which led us to the busy, fast road heading down Polmear Hill.
Hurrying over the road we reached the pavement on the opposite side and headed uphill. Ahead was a road sign to Polkerris Beach and Menabilly on the right and we took that, past the sign to Trill Horse Trail and walked along, passed a lone letterbox. Turning right again down to Polkerris, the clouds parted and we walked down the narrow and steep hill with high banks on either side smelling of warm wet earth from the recent rain, fresh autumn air, and a sudden blast of white sunshine gleaming off glossy ivy leaves. Blackbirds sang on either side as we passed underneath the remains of a footbridge, with dense, ivy clad woods on either side.
We walked past a cottage draped in Virginia Creeper and a couple of blue tits feeding in the garden and continued down to Polkerris which consists of several pretty whitewashed cottages with beautiful fuchsias growing in abundance outside. Until the end of the 19th century, Polkerris had one of the largest fish cellars in Cornwall, which still dominate the beach, and a huge fleet of seine boats.
At the bottom of the hill is the Rashleigh Arms, which was orginally in what is now the car park: the present pub building was once a boat shed. The granite wall of the harbour curved like a strong protective arm, and John pointed out several canons tipped up to act as bollards. This pier was built by the Rashleigh family around 1730 and what is now Sam's cafe was the old lifeboat house. John disappeared into the pub to get coffee for our hangovers, while Annie and Mollie and I sat outside in the garden admiring the view over St Austell Bay with the stunningly placed golf course off to the right.
“Don't get too comfortable,” John said a few minutes later. “They don't open till 12.” As it was only 10.30, we headed up the hill in front of a couple of cottages with gardens on either side, planted on an almost sheer cliff face. Fishing nets had been used as bird cages to tend the late raspberries, and Evening Primrose towered on either side of us, nodding lemon yellow heads as we climbed.
At the top we found a bench where we sat and digested the view as we sipped our bottles of water. Far below us a very young father with baby strapped to his body, wandered from the beach to the cafe, back into the car park. “He's probably been awake all night and is frantic for caffeine,” said Annie.
Heading back along the coastal path, we were greeted by the last of the blackberries, devoured by Annie, gradually acquiring a black mouth. Bright red and orange berries glistened in the hedges next to big fat sloes, making us think of sloe gin, and winter log fires. Old Man's Beard grew in abundance next to hawthorn bushes covered in grey-green fingers of lichen.
A cacophony of crows gathered and screeched above us, warned off by seagulls. “What's the collective noun for a group of crows?” asked John. “A congregation?” None of us knew, but having looked it up it is “a murder”: very apt, thinking of The Birds, and this being du Maurier country.
The sun was shining silver on the water far out to sea so we stopped and stared in admiration, while the tip of Gribben Head was just visible over the tops of the far hills. As we looked back, the young father appeared, baby still strapped to his stomach, and suddenly a skein of Canada geese flew over head, honking loudly. To our left, over the sea, flew a bunch of oyster catchers with their eerie scream as we turned the corner and a beautiful hill rose up on our right, in smooth emerald green. The path wound round back to where we started at Par beach, and we noticed the Canada Geese coming in to land on the pond at Par.
As we walked the last of the footpath, the ground was splattered with dark blackberry juice and we climbed down steep steps, over a little bridge and back to where we'd parked the car. Climbing onto the sand dunes, we looked out over Par Sands, where a couple of collies played tag in the lazy waves rippling on the edge of the sea. The sand was studded with silvery reflections and the sun beat down like a blessing. We sighed happily, hangovers gone. What could be better?
FACTBOX
OS Explorer Map 107 St Austell and Liskeard
Grading: a few steep hills, paths can be very muddy after rain. Varied views, landscape and wildlife.
Walk: 2.5 miles
Length: just under 1.5 hours
Dogs are allowed on Par Beach all year round.
Car park at Par Beach £2.10 all day at time of writing. Car park also at Polkerris.
Public toilets at Polkerris
Refreshments: Ship Inn at Par, Rashleigh Arms and Sam's cafe, Polkerris cafe at Polkerris
Cornwall Today 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
