Scarecrow: Out Now

Back in February, I wrote that one of my stories had been accepted for World Weaver Press’ latest anthology, Scarecrow. Today, I am delighted to announce that this short story collection, edited by Fae’s Rhonda Parrish, has been released.

First of all, here’s a description of Scarecrow, from World Weaver Press’ website:

Hay-men, mommets, tattie bogles, kakashi, tao-tao—whether formed of straw or other materials, the tradition of scarecrows is pervasive in farming cultures around the world. The scarecrow serves as decoy, proxy, and effigy—human but not human. We create them in our image and ask them to protect our crops and by extension our very survival, but we refrain from giving them the things a creation might crave—souls, brains, free-will, love. In Scarecrow, fifteen authors of speculative fiction explore what such creatures might do to gain the things they need or, more dangerously, think they want.

Within these pages, ancient enemies join together to destroy a mad mommet, a scarecrow who is a crow protects solar fields and stores long-lost family secrets, a woman falls in love with a scarecrow, and another becomes one. Encounter scarecrows made of straw, imagination, memory, and robotics while being spirited to Oz, mythological Japan, other planets, and a neighbor’s back garden. After experiencing this book, you’ll never look at a hay-man the same.

My tale in this anthology is called Only the Land Remembers. It tells the story of Grace, a girl who volunteers to be the ‘Scarecrow’- a protector figure who must ward off the ghoulish ‘Crows’ that are haunting her town. Below is a short extract:

The Crows are gathering. 

Grace is curled up on the window seat upstairs, her arms around her knees, her fingers picking at the loose hem of her sleeve. This is the only spot in the house where she can watch them; it is just high enough to see over the town wall.  

They are smudged in the crisscross of panes, the glass distorting the almost-human shape of them, so that if Grace moves her head even a little, they seem to lurch from side to side. But even blurred those dark spirits are unmistakable, and she knows that, for now at least, they stand perfectly still beyond border.   

It calms her to sit here, taking stock of them: three by the gate, eight in the orchard, the rest away in the fields. Yesterday, there were two dozen; now she counts twenty-nine.  

After a while, her vision relaxes and she leans forward, a cold kiss lingering where her brow touches the window.  

‘Shoo,’ Grace whispers, her breath fogging the glass. ‘Get away. Shoo.’

I’d be lying if I said this had been an easy story to write. The plot changed significantly from my initial ideas, which is unusual for me, as I’m a compulsive planner. The number of drafts I struggled through, not to mention the endless hours I spent writing them, doesn’t really bear thinking about (a shout out goes to Joely Badger here, who unpicked the plot with me on multiple occasions, and never grew tired of my asking, ‘But what if…?’).

Needless to say, it was a huge relief to eventually wrestle my thoughts and ideas into a story I was pleased with, and when I received the postcard from Rhonda telling me I’d been accepted for Scarecrow it definitely felt as though all of the effort had been worth it. So today, as I look back on the whole experience - and I look forward to reading the rest of the anthology - I can't help but feel especially proud to finally see Only the Land Remembers published.

Scarecrow is available to buy as a trade paperback direct from the publisher, or as an ebook from the usual suspects. More information can be found here.

Mslexia Short Story Competition

I am delighted to reveal that one of my short stories, 'Still Life Moving Fast', has been named runner-up in the Mslexia Short Story Competition 2015. It is available to read in the summer edition of Mslexia magazine, which is out now.

For those who don't know, Mslexia is a fantastic publication 'for women who write.' Like the recent Bailey's Women's Prize for Fiction, it aims to redress the gender imbalance in the publishing industry - in fact, the current issue discusses how men still dominate the top jobs in publishing. (The Guardian also just ran an article on how books about women are less likely to win literary prizes, which mentions Mslexia's research. Click here for more).

As I've said before, writing can sometimes be a lonely, unrewarding business, so it's a real boost to be acknowledged and published in such a well-respected magazine. Furthermore, judge Alison MacLeod had some lovely things to say about 'Still Life Moving Fast', including calling it 'visually delicious', which is something I may well quote until the end of time.

In addition to work by the winners and finalists of the short story competition, Issue 66 (Jun/Jul/Aug 2015) of Mslexia is chock-full of news, features, reviews, interviews and much more on the subject of writing, books and publishing. If this sounds like your thing - and you want to read 'Still Life Moving Fast' - do chase down a copy.

Coming Soon: Scarecrow

I am totally thrilled to announce that one of my stories, 'Only the Land Remembers', is to be published in World Weaver Press' latest anthology, Scarecrow.

Rhonda's postcard

Scarecrow is being released at the same time as a companion title, Corvidae, so it will be very interesting to see how the stories in each have developed around the theme of these two old foes. And now, both tables of contents are available over at editor Rhonda Parrish's blog (she also put together Fae, so I'm delighted to be working with her again). Scarecrow can be found here, Corvidae here.

I learned this happy news by email, but a few days later a handwritten card arrived from Rhonda, confirming my story's place in Scarecrow. Considering I mostly receive bills and leaflets from Domino's through my letterbox, this was a lovely surprise. I like to think the card was delivered - all the way from Canada - by some kind of corvidae. If I squint, I can just about see the beak marks...

Reading Review 2014

For me, 2014 was a pretty respectable reading year. I achieved my Goodreads Challenge of finishing forty books, I discovered some exciting new authors (especially Helen Oyeyemi and Evie Wyld), and I even managed to make it through some non-fiction. On my travels, I had the time to tackle a few tomes (Eleanor Catton’s The Luminaries, Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch), whereas later in the year when I was busier I sped through shorter novels (Lois Lowry’s The Giver, Graham Greene’s Doctor Fischer of Geneva). With only one or two exceptions, I enjoyed everything I picked up – I certainly identified some all-time favourite reads. So below are just a few of the books that especially stood out for me last year.

Best non-fiction: Gossip From the Forest by Sarah Maitland. Maitland's exploration of Britain’s forests is fascinating in itself, but the magic really happens when she connects natural history with the history of fairy tales, and uses what she’s learned to inform her own creative writing.

Best short story collection: The Rental Heart and Other Fairy Tales by Kirsty Logan. There’s been a lot of buzz about Logan’s debut collection - rightly so, as far as I’m concerned, for her short stories are dark, dreamlike and beautifully-crafted. I devoured them all in just a couple of sittings, not because they were easy reads, but because – like faerie –Logan’s world was difficult to leave.

Best children's/young adult book: More Than This by Patrick Ness. I’m reluctant to choose Ness for this because I picked him last year too, but his writing is so bold and unique that I simply can’t resist him. I’m also reluctant to say too much about this story, because the way it unravels is completely unpredictable and best appreciated without so much as a sniff of spoilers.

Best classic: Anne of Green Gables by LM Montgomery. Why haven’t I read this before? It really is a great book, mainly because Anne Shirley is such a fantastic character. As my pal Joely Badger pointed out, Anne is very much a contemporary of Richmal Crompton's (Just) William, in both her earnestness and her knack for getting into trouble. A lovely read.

Most disappointing book: The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman. I'm a big fan of Gaiman's work, especially Stardust, Neverwhere and his short stories. His ideas are big, his writing is clever, but I thought the plot of this one was rather muddled, even dull.

Best reread: The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole aged 13 and 3/4 by Sue Townsend. After the sad news of his creator’s passing, I revisited Adrian Mole last year, and found his adventures just as bittersweet, just as awkward, and just as likely to cause ugly snorts of laughter as they ever were.

Best book: The Hakawati by Rabih Alameddine. I’m not sure where to start with this one. In fact, at some point in the near future, I’d like to write a proper review of it, because Alameddine has given me such a lot to think about - both as a reader and a writer. So for now I’ll try to keep it short. Hakawati is the Arabic word for “storyteller”, and this is a book about stories. On the surface, it tells the tale of Osama, the grandson of a hakawati who returns from the US to his Lebanese homeland after the civil war. But woven within that story are countless others, ranging from the ‘real-life’ tales of Osama’s family to the fairy tales, folk tales and even religious tales told by the hakawati himself. It’s such a rich and complex structure, so inventive and entertaining, that you can practically sense Alameddine’s glee as he tests how far he can push the boundaries of his novel. I thought it was superb, and there’s no doubt it’s the best book I read last year.

I would, however, also like to mention The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler, All the Birds, Singing by Evie Wyld, and Life After Life by Kate Atkinson, for they too completely captivated me. Now I write this, I wonder whether I enjoyed these books so much because each of their authors – like Alameddine – approached their respective plots in an original, playful way: Miller’s was a retelling of the Iliad, Fowler revealed hers from middle to beginning to end, Wyld related half of hers backwards, while Atkinson told different versions of hers again and again.

So I suppose, if I've learned anything from my reading habits of 2014, it’s that I like a juicy structure; a book that not only tells a good story, but tells it in the best possible way. It’s a discovery that I’ll be keeping at the back of my mind when deciding what to read in the future, and also one I hope will give me more focus when it comes to my writing.

An Update

I seem to have become rather lax about blogging lately so, without further ado, here is an update of my literary activities of the past few months... 

August in Edinburgh is, of course, totally dominated by the festivals, and it’s an amazing time to be in the city – let alone live in it. The highlight for me is always The Edinburgh International Book Festival (EIBF), which never fails to attract world-class authors, and this year was no different. Below are a few of my highlights:

• Patrick Ness is basically the king of YA fiction at the moment - and deservedly so. In person too, Ness is funny, engaging, and has a lovely rapport with his audience. I also appreciated the fact that he spoke a lot about writing as a process, and the following are just a few things he said that stayed with me:

On not having time to write: 'Writers don't write, they write anyway. You find ways to write.' 

On self-belief: ‘You can be a writer - no one ever told me that.’ 

On how his stories take shape: ‘I'm a great believer in if an idea's good enough, wait and things will stick to it’

• Sarah Maitland and Kirsty Logan write original fairy tales, Maitland fusing hers with scientific theory in her book Moss Witch, and Logan creating her own lyrical, sensual fiction in The Rental Heart and Other Fairytales. Given that I frequently use traditional stories in my own work, I really enjoyed hearing about their different approaches to this kind of writing.

• I have never read any of Lydia Davis’ fiction, but her event (chaired by a delightful Ali Smith, whose work I love) made me realise what an oversight that has been, for Davis is truly a master of the short story form (an excellent example of her newer work is Letter to a Frozen Peas Manufacturer). 

• The wise and witty Sarah Waters talked mainly about her new novel, The Paying Guests, and I was particularly interested when she discussed how her historical fiction develops: she reads extensively around the time period she wants to write about, and then lets the story emerge from her research. Also, her event’s chair, Muriel Gray, was fabulous (‘Sarah, this book kept getting me all hot and bothered. I had to think of Jeremy Clarkson to calm myself down.’).

• Haruki Murakami was one of the biggest names at this year’s EIBF. I wasn’t sure what to expect from him, though having read three of his books I should have guessed: Murakami was quirky, witty, with a mischievous streak - he had his audience in the palm of his hand.

Meeting him after the event was even better. For privacy, he was signing books behind a strange arrangement of sheets, rather like a blanket fort. My partner (a highly reluctant reader on whom Murakami has somehow worked his magic) and I queued for a good hour to see the author, and then simultaneously froze when we ducked into all the linen and came face-to-face with him. Unfazed by our silence, Murakami chuckled, ‘I am looking forward to a beer after this,’ and – finding our voices at last – we hastily encouraged him in this endeavour. 

Banter about beer with Haruki Murakami? We felt like the coolest people on the planet.

After all that excitement, September had a distinctly back-to-school vibe, especially following the fun of the festival, and I enforced a strict ‘new term’ routine on myself. Each weekday since then, I’ve been trying to finish my freelance ghostwriting by lunchtime, so in the afternoon I can spend a couple of hours on my novel, short stories, or writing admin (ie tasks like trawling the internet for competitions or sending stories off to anthologies). Unless a pesky deadline comes up, it’s not a bad system, so I’m going to try and stick to it for the foreseeable future.

October was dominated by one of the aforementioned pesky deadlines, and most of the writing month was spent pulling my hair out over perhaps the most difficult short story I’ve ever written. Hopefully I will be able to find it a home one of these days...

And finally, November, which I will remember as the Month of the Novel. First of all, I finished my second full-length ghostwritten book. Obviously, I can’t talk about it too much, but it’s been a very enjoyable project, and working on it every day has given me some much-needed structure since returning from my travels, so I will miss it a fair bit.

In terms of my own writing, this was also a big month for my novel-to-be. A while ago, I realised my old draft simply wasn’t working, and therefore much of ‘new term’ has been spent trying to rethink its structure, plot, characters – most of it, really. I think November was the first time I felt like I was making progress with this often disheartening task, helped in no small part by Edinburgh City Council’s wonderful two-day writing course, 'Start Your First Novel'. Run by Alison Summers, the sessions were great for reviewing (and learning) the process of developing a novel from scratch, and so made it much easier for me to look at my new ideas from a fresh perspective. 

Fae: Out Now

It’s finally here: Fae, World Weaver Press’ fairy-centric anthology, is out now.

I have written about my involvement with Fae here and here, but wanted to mark its release date by posting a little extract from my story, Antlers. I’m reluctant to give away too much about the tale, nor the specific fae-creature it concerns, so below are just the opening lines of Antlers, to give a taster of what's to come in the book:

The garden is a crypt. Vines grasp at the walls, pulling themselves upwards, right towards the throats of the tallest trees, which bow forward to meet one another, branches clasping branches. 

Inside, there is no breeze, and the air is thick with the musk of pollen and damp, dark earth. The birds that remain stand still in the shrubs, their songs low and mournful.  

At the centre, lies the Lady. Under the netting of shadows, her skin seems to shine and shift, like moonlight upon water. The only colour is at her breast, opening up like a red flower thrust forward through time, blossoming around the arrow that has pierced her heart. 

Fae, expertly edited by Rhonda Parrish, is available now in trade paperback and ebook via Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, and other online retailers. You can also find Fae on Goodreads.

Finally, here is some lovely advance praise for Fae:

A delightfully refreshing collection that offers a totally different take on your usual fairy stories! I found it difficult to stop reading as one story ended and another began – all fantastic work by gifted writers. Not for the faint of heart, by any means.

          — Marge Simon, multiple Bram Stoker® Winner

Anyone with an abiding love of Faerie and the Folk who dwell there will find stories to enjoy in FAE.

          — Tangent (C.D. Lewis)

The Cartography of Shattered Trees' by Beth Cato and 'And Only The Eyes of Children' by Laura VanArendonk Baugh are shining examples of what could be done with the subject of faeries that surpass tricks on the reader, that build worlds and characters worth knowing and exploring, that have something important to say about the real world.

          — Tangent (John Sulk)

Nibble on this deliciously wondrous collection of stories of fae one at a time or binge on its delights on one night, you'll love the faerie feast this collection provides. I devoured it.

          — Kate Wolford, editor of Enchanted Conversation: A Fairytale Magazine

Update (05/08/14): You can read my (highly biased) review of Fae at Goodreads here. 

Fae: The Cover Revealed

Earlier this year, I wrote that one of my stories, 'Antlers', is to be published in an anthology entitled Fae. Now, I am very excited to share its beautiful cover and the book's description, both of which have just been released by Fae's publisher, World Weaver Press.

*

Meet Robin Goodfellow as you’ve never seen him before, watch damsels in distress rescue themselves, get swept away with the selkies and enjoy tales of hobs, green men, pixies and phookas. One thing is for certain, these are not your grandmother’s fairy tales.

Fairies have been both mischievous and malignant creatures throughout history. They’ve dwelt in forests, collected teeth or crafted shoes. Fae is full of stories that honor that rich history while exploring new and interesting takes on the fair folk from castles to computer technologies and modern midwifing, the Old World to Indianapolis.

Fae covers a vast swath of the fairy story spectrum, making the old new and exploring lush settings with beautiful prose and complex characters. Enjoy the familiar feeling of a good old-fashioned fairy tale alongside urban fantasy and horror with a fae twist.

With an introduction by Sara Cleto and Brittany Warman, and all new stories from Sidney Blaylock Jr., Amanda Block, Kari Castor, Beth Cato, Liz Colter, Rhonda Eikamp, Lor Graham, Alexis A. Hunter, L.S. Johnson, Jon Arthur Kitson, Adria Laycraft, Lauren Liebowitz, Christine Morgan, Shannon Phillips, Sara Puls, Laura VanArendonk Baugh, and Kristina Wojtaszek.

*

Fae is released on the 22nd July 2014. To win an advanced copy through Goodreads, click here.

Coming Soon: Fae

I'm about to take a bit of a break from Writer's Block, as I'm off to do some travelling before starting full-time freelance work in May. However just in the nick of time (my first flight - to New Zealand - leaves tomorrow night), I'm able to reveal that one of my short stories, Antlers, is to be published in a forthcoming anthology by World Weaver Press.

The book, entitled Fae, will celebrate fairy-like creatures of all shapes and sizes. As editor Rhonda Parrish outlined in the call for submissions back in September:

Historically speaking fairies have been mischievous or malignant. They’ve dwelt in forests, collected teeth or crafted shoes. In Fae, we want stories that honor that rich history but explore new and interesting takes on fairies as well. We want urban fairies and arctic fairies, steampunk fairies, time-traveling and digital fairies. We want stories that bridge traditional and modern styles and while we’re at it, we want stories about fairy-like creatures too. Bring us your sprites, your pixies, your seelies and unseelies, silkies, goblins or gnomes, brownies and imps. We want them all. We’re looking for lush settings, beautiful prose and complex characters.

Hot off the press today, Fae's table of contents is now up on Rhonda's blog, and I'm very intrigued by the sixteen story titles that sit alongside Antlers. Fortunately, there isn't too long to find out how my fellow contributors have interpreted the fairy theme, as publication of the anthology is scheduled for this summer.

Plitvice National Park in Croatia, where I'm sure a few faeries dwell

Au Revoir, Genève

The Schynige Platte: a nice spot
for some writing

For two and a half years, I have spent my days tidying stories in a turret. I have lived in a wood-panelled room – a land-locked ship’s cabin, I like to think – and I have watched the drifting of the clouds and the phases of the moon through the windows above my head. I have walked to a market each Sunday, or else taken a tiny orange train up a hillside to visit my cousin and his family. I have explored: cities, lakes, woods, summer mountains on foot, winter mountains on skis. I have become used to the unfamiliar, not just languages and cultures that aren’t my own, but the sound of church bells in the morning, the smell of cooking cheese or vin chaud in the street, the sight of little old men walking giant chess pieces around giant chessboards in the park… Reflecting on it all like this, I realise how wonderful and strange my time in Switzerland has been, almost like something from a story in itself. And now it is coming to an end - as all stories must.

I have always been driven by the desire to write – and the hope that writing could one day make up the bulk of my income. My Literary Consultant job here has been fantastic, but now I have the opportunity to put aside the editing and administration and concentrate on freelance ghostwriting and my own stories. And I know the place to do that is not in this charmed but expensive and faraway city, but in my beloved Edinburgh – my home, to which it is time to return.

View of Grand Rue, Geneva Old Town, the street on which I've lived and worked

Despite feeling fairly confident about this decision, it's breaking my heart a little, leaving Geneva while I'm having such a good time. I think perhaps it would help to dwell on the negative: the endless bureaucracy here, for example; the lack of sea; the customer service that borders on abuse. But I can’t. Switzerland, despite its reputation as a rather twee and snoozy little country, is an extraordinary place - not least for the fact its people once had the bright idea of dipping bread in booze and melted cheese. 

The mighty Matterhorn

It's also beautiful. I remember learning about  nature inspiring feelings of the sublime when studying Gothic literature at university, and I have felt that sensation again and again in Switzerland. When I hiked around the Schynige Platte above Interlaken last summer, or under the Matterhorn’s domineering shadow in early Autumn, the sights made my heart soar. I think I now understand why Julie Andrews went twirling off towards that mountainous horizon singing all sorts of silliness about musical hills – she just couldn’t keep it in. If you have never been to Switzerland, I urge you to visit at the first possible opportunity.

Of course, it’s people that really complete a place, and I have made some amazing friends out here. Geneva is a transient city, where most only stick around for a few years (or even months), so I’ve been very fortunate in this regard. Whether we’ve been indulging in thimble-sized glasses of wine in expensive bars, or slobbing out in front of TV shows in each other’s apartments; whether we’ve been lounging in the sunshine at the Perle du Lac park, or zooming down ski slopes in the biting cold - my friends and I have experienced this mad and magical place together. 

In many of these friends, and especially in my colleagues, I have also found kindred, creative spirits. We’ve swapped new story ideas, we’ve made colourful spreadsheets of competition deadlines together, we’ve read one another’s fiction – first drafts, fourth drafts, last drafts – and offered our comments. We’ve been there to share in each other’s successes – and commiserated in the face of a few, inevitable setbacks. We even made it official, forming The Pen Poppers writing group for regular practice, feedback and encouragement. As I have said before, writing is such a solitary occupation, I find it best to try and share as much of the process as possible. 

Skiing with my creative colleagues
(and two of my favourite Geneva people), Helen and Elodie

Which leads me onto my writing in Geneva. One of the reasons I want to pursue the next stage of my career in Edinburgh is that I have been a little starved of writing opportunities (as opposed to writing people) in Switzerland. But, in a way, being cut off from the UK literary scene has encouraged me to connect more in cyberspace. In the past few years, I have set up twitter and LinkedIn accounts, dedicated more time to Writer’s Block, completed Nanowrimo twice, joined two Reading Challenges, acquired Goodreads and Amazon author profiles. Now I think about it, I’m not sure I would have made my online presence quite so known, had I not felt far away.

I know I’ll return to Switzerland, both physically and in my writing (I’m already noticing a lot more mountain scenery popping up in my fiction), so I’m sure this is not the last time I’ll talk about my experiences here. But I wanted to get at least some of it down before I went, because I know it’ll seem different in a few weeks, and more different still a year or two down the line. So this is how it is right now, on the brink of leaving Geneva - and this is how I am: happy, grateful, inspired, better organised, more focused, more like a writer, even a little more worldly. And, conversely, because of all that, I'm also ready to go.

Jumping for joy at the top of Mont Salève

Author Profiles

In my very first post on this blog, almost exactly four years ago, I wrote of attending a conference for Creative Writing MSc graduates, and learning the mantra: I am a writer. (Interestingly, an article entitled When Can You Call Yourself A Writer? has been popping up on twitter recently, and it's worth reading over at The Write Life here.)

Even though I now (ghost)write for a living, it sometimes still feels a bit odd to label myself a writer. I'm not sure whether it's because many people's idea of a writer is a JK Rowling-type figure - ie hugely prolific and successful, or whether being a writer is something I've wanted for so long that I can't quite bring myself to say it aloud, lest I jinx it somehow.

This week, however, a little validation (rare in this profession, and always welcome) came my way, as I managed to set up an Author Profile on Amazon, as well as update my existing one on Goodreads:

Author Profile on Amazon

Author Profile on Goodreads

Despite being published in Modern Grimmoire and Stories for Homes, it didn't really occur to me I would be entitled to a page of my very own on these sites until I realised others from the anthologies were featured on Amazon and Goodreads in this way. This timidity on my part took me back to the conference in 2009 that encouraged us declare: I am a writer. I think, in future, I shall be repeating that mantra to myself a little more often, in order that my next milestone as an author doesn't come as such a surprise.

Stories for Homes: Update

Just in time for Christmas, Stories for Homes has been released in paperback. As I wrote in a previous post, the anthology was put together to raise funds for the housing charity Shelter, and features the work of sixty-three authors, all responding to the theme of 'home'.

I am fortunate enough to be one of those authors, and my short story, Unsettled, is a re-imagining of a well-known fairy tale:   

She needs to cut [the branches] back, trim all of the trees that are creeping up on her house. In the early days, the young men used to help her, grumbling all the while about the decision to move so far in. It had been wise at the time: everyone had been running from something, everyone wanted to lose themselves between the branches. It wasn’t until they had built up the little settlement that they realised they weren’t the only ones hiding in the forest.

Both the Stories for Homes paperback and ebook are now available from Amazon (and would make excellent Christmas presents!) All royalties raised go directly to Shelter.

Leaflet by Debs Riccio

Thread

The November issue of the online journal Bookanista went live today, featuring one of my short stories, Thread.

Thread is probably my most experimental piece of fiction to date. I have been playing around with fairy tales and myths for a few years now, but have recently begun to think I can use them more sparingly in my work. With Thread, I started with a myth, but tried to write over rather than around it, hoping the original tale would show through in places, but not distract the course of my new, modern-day narrative.

A little taster:

You don’t choose your own story.” That’s what Mama had said, the real one.
Papa had grunted into his pipe, raised his gaze to the ceiling. “Let the children dream.”
Biting down a response, Mama had pulled the quilt tight over their little bodies, nudging them closer together to warm like coals in a grate. Then she had bent down, kissed their cheeks, stroked their hair, and blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill into the space between them.
“Very well,” she had said, while Papa puffed away in his chair. “But I will choose the story tonight, as I wish I could choose all your stories.”

Bookanista is a fantastic website packed with literary news, extracts, interviews and articles. It places particular emphasis on publishing new fiction, from both fledgling and established writers, and I am very excited to be contributing to it this month.

Guess the myth.

To read Thread, and the rest of Bookanista's November issue, head over here.

Stories For Homes, Homes for Stories

Every so often – though certainly not as often as I should - I go on a serious trawl of the internet for literary journals, magazines, websites and competitions, searching for places to send my short stories. A few months ago, on one such mission, I came across the website Stories for Homes, which was requesting submissions of short fiction for an anthology of the same name on the theme of ‘home’.

Immediately, one of my stories, Unsettled, popped to the forefront of my mind: it concerns a house, a community, and an outsider - themes I thought might sit well in the anthology. However, it is also a retelling of a famous fairy tale, and given that the book was being produced to raise funds for the homeless charity Shelter, I wondered whether the editors might want to stick to more realist(ic) stories to reflect the serious nature of the cause.  

Still it was worth a shot, I thought, so I sent off Unsettled with a rather sheepish this-might-not-be-quite-what-you’re-looking-for disclaimer, and was therefore doubly delighted when, shortly afterwards, I learned it had been accepted for the anthology.

(The story behind Stories for Homes – from its pitch to publication - is rather fascinating in itself, as described by Debi Alper on her website here.)

Given that the book was being put together for charity under significant time pressure, we writers were then paired up over cyberspace by the editors/organisers/superwomen, Sally Swingewood and Debi Alper, and asked to look over one another's work. Although editing is a large part of my day job, at the time of this request I was holed up in a French chateau with sporadic internet access (ghostwriting larks...) and so a little worried about how I was going to find the time/means to pull off a decent editing job.

Fortunately, I was paired with Isabel Costello, who I later discovered runs the excellent book blog On the Literary Sofa. Isabel’s wonderful story, Half of Everything, about a woman coming to terms with the breakdown of her marriage during hurricane Sandy (totally different to my fairy tale piece!) hardly needed any tweaking, so it was a very pleasant editing task indeed. And a useful learning experience for me too, because it's not often my work is edited by someone I don't know. I usually entrust it to a few writerly friends, but Isabel provided some really constructive and thoughtful feedback, which led me to look at my piece afresh and give it a good polish before its publication. 

I am very proud to have been involved in the Stories for Homes book, and in awe of the people who worked so hard to pull it all together. It's strange to think that I stumbled across its website when looking for a home for one of my stories. I couldn't have predicted that search would lead me to such an exciting project, one that will hopefully make a big difference to people in desperate need of a place to call their own.  
  

Stories for Homes promo by Imran Siddiq

Stories for Homes is available now in ebook form on Amazon for just £5 and I’m told there will be a paperback version coming soon. One hundred percent of the royalties goes straight to Shelter.

Microfiction: Thorns

A hundred years unkissed. Awake (back bent, skin gnarled, heart twisted), she dresses in thorns, becomes the witch instead.

Vintage Script and Historical Fiction

I recently discovered that one of my short stories, It'll All Be Gone Tomorrow, had been chosen for publication in Vintage Script, 'the writing magazine for all things vintage, historical and retro.' Now, the edition in question - the quarterly magazine's spring issue - is available to order.

It'll All Be Gone Tomorrow describes two chance encounters between a man and woman, one at the end of the 'golden Edwardian summer' in 1913 and one a decade or so later, during the 'roaring' twenties. Both of these points in history have always really interested me, especially when held up against one another. As I wrote for Vintage Script's website: 'The First World War brought about huge social change in Britain, especially for women. In It’ll All Be Gone Tomorrow I wanted to explore the periods directly before and after the war through a female character who has unexpectedly triumphed during the turbulent days in between.'

What I didn't add, however (lest the editor change her mind and take out my story!) is that this is actually my first attempt at historical fiction. I've always enjoyed reading it, but ever since I began playing about with fairy tales during my Creative Writing MSc, most of my short stories have had a magical (or magical realist) feel. When the idea for It'll All Be Gone Tomorrow hit me, I treated it as a bit of writing practice, not confident of its chances of success, so I'm both pleasantly surprised and very excited to be included in this anthology.

The Countdown to Grimmoire

Today it is exactly a month until the publication Modern Grimmoire: Contemporary Fairy Tales, Folktales and Fables, an anthology in which my story, The Mirror Child, is to be featured. In a faraway land (America), the book has been sent to the printer, and Indigo Ink Press is now preparing for the big launch.

The first exciting aspect of this is that I have an author's profile on their website, here. It's not vastly different to the one on this blog, but it's shiny and new and I like it very much.

Secondly, Indigo Ink is hosting a Poison Apple Ball for the release of the book. Sadly, I am fresh out of ruby slippers/magic carpets/floo powder etc. and will not be able to attend, but it looks to be a fabulous evening (the dress code is 'fairy tale formal' - imagine the possibilities!)

Thirdly, as well as a beautiful cover, Indigo Ink has released a longer description of Modern Grimmoire on their website. Now to be perfectly honest, up until this point I've mostly been focused on seeing my own story in print, however the below has made me pretty keen to read the rest too:

Awaiting you inside are the collected works of thirty-six emerging authors and artists from around the world. Through short fiction, poetry and artwork, you’ll meet a talking cat-girl and a girl that talks to cats; librarians like you’ve never imagined and royalty like you always have; an ex-court painter, an all too persuasive frog, and an out-of-work wolfman.

Some twist and twine their happily-ever-after predecessors in inventive ways; others craft entirely new magical faces and places. All collected, the anthology is ripe with sticky sweet revenge, altogether timely fates, and all-conquering (and conquesting) love.

… Modern Grimmoire has all of the makings of your favorite tales, Grimm and otherwise: the magic and mischief; the savagery and anticipation; the romance and cruelty; the heroism and symbolism; and the entertainment and enlightenment.

Bring on May 11th.

An Advent of Stories

Whoever invented the modern advent calendar (I suspect those clever, Christmas-loving Germans) was onto a good thing. Whoever invented the chocolate advent calendar was onto an even better one. And now, the folk at 5 Minute Fiction have come up with an idea that's just as sweet: an advent of Christmas stories.

I've actually been thinking a lot about Christmas fiction recently. I think it's a lovely tradition, obviously made popular by Charles Dickens among others, and it's rather a shame there isn't more about at this time of year anymore. I had a couple of ideas for longer festive pieces, which I hope to write one day, but when I saw this competition - to pen a Christmas-themed flash fiction, the best of which would be displayed on the 5 Minute Fiction website during the countdown to Christmas - I decided to have a go with a completely new idea.

I can't really say too much about it, as it's pretty short and I'm a spoilerphobe. But I was really pleased that 5 Minute Fiction named me runner up in this competition and my story, The Visitor, is now available on their website here.

Merry Christmas!

Modern Grimmoire

A couple of months ago, I saw that Indigo Ink Press were running a competition to find stories for their forthcoming fairy tale anthology. This weekend, I received the very exciting news that my entry had been successful, and I am to be published next year in Modern Grimmoire: Contemporary Fairy Tales, Fables and Folklore.

Soon to feature... The Mirror Child

My entry, The Mirror Child, was originally written as a response to Snow White. It features a Queen so desperate for a child that she is tricked by a mischievous fairy, who gifts her reflection - and only her reflection - with a baby.

Originally penned in 2008, The Mirror Child formed one third of a trilogy of fairy tales written for my Creative Writing MSc. The first story in the collection, When Winter was Caught, was published a few years ago in English Digest, a Taiwanese English language publication, as part of my stint as their Overseas Writer. The second story, The Sea-Maid Speaks, was shortlisted for the Chapter One Promotions Short Story Competition and published this year in their anthology, The Beginning. 

So it's very nice to find a home for the third and final story in the collection, not to mention the warm, happy feelings that being chosen for publication brings. Plus, the finalists are invited to a launch party called the 'Poison Apple Ball'. I'm not even sure what this entails, but if by some miracle I can afford a trip to America (or to whichever faraway location it happens to be held), I'll be there with wings on.

The Bridport Prize

Due to a drunken episode in which my name was googled (not by me), I have discovered that my small victory in the Bridport Prize 2009 Short Story Competition is now public knowledge. As you can see, I am one of many, many shortlisted writers, nevertheless it makes me feel rather warm and fuzzy inside.

Next year, I will try to enter this competition with sparkly new fiction (as opposed to just picking a tired old story at random) and hope I do even better. For now though, I am content just to gaze at my name on the website of this very prestigious prize.

Bridport Prize 2009