These are strange times. Partly, because my current job at the
Edinburgh International Science Festival is, well, strange: every day, I
drive around Scotland with another Amanda and we perform a science
show to primary school children over and over again. It’s called Little
Giants. It’s about bees. I’m the beekeeper, the other Amanda’s the
bee.
But that’s not even the really strange part. The oddest thing is that,
after getting up at stupid o’clock in the morning to drive to these
schools – an experience I find akin to pulling teeth – and after doing
this show three times with the energy of a couple of CBeebies
presenters who have broken into a Red Bull factory, I have been getting
home and writing.
Seriously, why is this? Why am I not able to write a thing after a week
of languishing about in pyjamas, but when I’ve spent the day yelling
at the lady inside the tomtom and jumping around singing the praises of
pollination, suddenly I can get home and bash out 2,000 words of
novel.
Why?
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
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
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
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Turning the Page
“I am a writer.”
As of today, this is my mantra. It is also – I suspect – the war cry of a new generation of Scottish writers.
I have just returned from a Literary Conference: Turning the Page was a joint venture by Literature Training and Scottish Book Trust aimed at individuals who have recently completed postgraduate degrees in Creative Writing at Scottish universities.
I was already familiar with both organisations (Literature Training has been my homepage for several months now), yet never having been to any sort of conference before, I was not entirely sure what to expect. But as it turns out, the day was hugely helpful: it was divided into several talks by various writers and members of the writing profession, in which we were encouraged to think about our next steps into the big wide world of writing, in particular the fact that we must now think of ourselves as individual writing businesses – a frightening thought for someone who has only just plucked up the courage to use internet banking.
As well as meeting interesting and dedicated industry professionals with a lot to say on potential pathways I had not even considered, it was a chance to catch up with old colleagues from the MSc, and check up on their progress. Writing is such a solitary occupation, it is quite the event when a load of us are crammed together – especially when free wine is in the offing…
But to return to the affirmation of the beginning: I am a writer. At one point in the day, we were required to put our hands on our hearts and declare that – rather than wanting to be, or trying to be – we were writers. Tongue-in-cheek it might have been, but nevertheless it reflected the shot of confidence the whole day provided. I have a lot more to say, to do, to get my head around, in response to Turning the Page, but for the moment, I think the new mantra’s rather a good start.
As of today, this is my mantra. It is also – I suspect – the war cry of a new generation of Scottish writers.
I have just returned from a Literary Conference: Turning the Page was a joint venture by Literature Training and Scottish Book Trust aimed at individuals who have recently completed postgraduate degrees in Creative Writing at Scottish universities.
I was already familiar with both organisations (Literature Training has been my homepage for several months now), yet never having been to any sort of conference before, I was not entirely sure what to expect. But as it turns out, the day was hugely helpful: it was divided into several talks by various writers and members of the writing profession, in which we were encouraged to think about our next steps into the big wide world of writing, in particular the fact that we must now think of ourselves as individual writing businesses – a frightening thought for someone who has only just plucked up the courage to use internet banking.
As well as meeting interesting and dedicated industry professionals with a lot to say on potential pathways I had not even considered, it was a chance to catch up with old colleagues from the MSc, and check up on their progress. Writing is such a solitary occupation, it is quite the event when a load of us are crammed together – especially when free wine is in the offing…
But to return to the affirmation of the beginning: I am a writer. At one point in the day, we were required to put our hands on our hearts and declare that – rather than wanting to be, or trying to be – we were writers. Tongue-in-cheek it might have been, but nevertheless it reflected the shot of confidence the whole day provided. I have a lot more to say, to do, to get my head around, in response to Turning the Page, but for the moment, I think the new mantra’s rather a good start.
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