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THE WRITING LIFE – THE HOME FOR REDUNDANT CHARACTERS

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This post is partly for fun, partly as a procrastination exercise. I had a wonderful meeting with my editor and agent yesterday and as a result of the thinking I’ve done since then, I’ve decided to get rid of one of my characters and I imagined the following exchange between myself and that character:

Here is the scene: A man sits on a bench under a wooden sign saying ‘Characters’ waiting room‘. To the left, there is a door with the word Author etched on the glass. The door opens.

Me: ‘Come in, Graham, and take a seat. I think we both know why you’re here, don’t we?’

Graham: ‘I know. I’m not interesting enough, am I? I’m not doing enough in this novel at the moment. But listen, I promise I’ll – ‘

Me: (sighing) ‘Graham, it’s not so much that you’re not interesting. You do have your good qualities – why do you think you made it to the end of the first draft? I don’t like doing this, you know. It hurts me far more than it hurts you.’

Graham: (Looking miserable) ‘You say that, but you authors always play fast and loose with us characters. You don’t really care about us.’

Me: ‘That’s not true, Graham. I’ve grown fond of you over the last few months, very fond indeed, but… oh dear, how do I put this? Look, it’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t feel strongly enough about you any more; I don’t feel I can fully commit to this relationship.’

Graham: ‘I’m sure I could do something to make you feel differently.’ (he looks up, suddenly quite excited) ‘How about if I did something unexpected; or something outrageous! What about if –’

Me: (shaking my head) ‘You see, this is one of the problems, Graham. You’re just not consistent, are you? Doing something unexpected – or even outrageous – could be interesting, but only if the reader is going to believe that it’s within your character to do that. And I don’t think you’ll convince them. One minute, you’re being a macho dickhead, the next, you’re Mr Nice Guy; Mr Wise and Understanding. You’re all over the place, mate. And let’s be completely honest – you’re not really a “do something outrageous” sort of character, are you? I mean, you’re very nice and all that, but basically, you’re – ‘

Graham: Boring. (He hangs his head, looks sad).

Me: ‘No, you’re not boring – I loved all that stuff about when you were in the RAF, and how you were injured when your plane was shot down and all that. But I’ve got to be honest, I brought you in for one specific purpose, and now I’ve had a bit of a rethink, that scene is going to be cut so you’re just… I’m sorry, Graham, but there’s no other way of putting it, I don’t need you any more.’

Graham: ‘You don’t need me anymore?’

Me: ‘I suppose there are other ways of putting it. You’re unnecessary; you’re superfluous; you’re redundant; you’re surplus to requirements; you’re – ‘

Graham: ‘All right, all right. I get the message. You don’t have to say the same thing four different ways, you know. I may be superfluous but I’m not stupid.’

Me: ‘Sorry, Graham. It’s one of my flaws as an author – I sometimes repeat the same idea. See? It’s not only you who gets things wrong. Now, I don’t want to rush you, but there are a few more characters I need to have a word with.’

Graham: ‘So you mean I’m not the only one who’s getting chucked out of this novel?’

Me: ‘Well, there’s Catherine – did you meet her? I gave her her marching orders last night, but she’s so insignificant, you probably wouldn’t remember her anyway. If you take the lift down to the basement, you’ll find a collection of other characters that I’ve had to, shall we say, let go over the years. In fact, there’s even another young woman from this novel… oh no, wait – she was before your time. Ah well, I’m sure you’ll find someone down there to talk to.’

Graham: (Standing, nodding) ‘Okay, I’ll go and join the others. Just one thing…’ (he looks up, hopefully) ‘Is there a chance you might need me again later? Either in this novel, or perhaps in something else?’

Me: ‘There’s always a chance, Graham.’

Graham: ‘Shall I give you a call, then?’

Me: ‘I’ll be in touch if I need you. You’ve been a great help, really. You’ve helped me to understand things about the other characters, and I really appreciate it. Off you go now,  And can you send Muriel in next, please? She’s staying in the novel, but I really need to talk to her about how she reveals things to the reader.’

Graham lingers.

Me: ‘Sorry to rush you, Graham, but I have a lot of characters to talk to.’

Graham sighs, nods sadly and waits for the lift that will take him down to the cavernous vaults of the Home for Redundant Characters.

Launch of The Secrets We Left Behind

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Well, what a lovely time I had at the launch of The Secrets We Left Behind last week! Although my second novel had already been out for almost two weeks, I was pretty excited about the launch event, which was hosted by Waterstones. My previous blog post is about Publication Day, and as I say in that post, even though it’s a day that feels special in many ways, there’s still a very slight feeling of anti-climax. The novel is out, it’s in the shops, and that’s it, there’s nothing more you can do except go home and wait (and bite your nails and hope!) for it to sell.
But the launch party feels like a bit more of a landmark moment. Lots of your friends turn up, sometimes even bearing gifts, like these gorgeous flowers.  It’s also a great opportunity to dress up. Yes, I bought a new dress for the occasion,  and I wore pink shoes. Pink!! These pink shoes have been seen before, and I’m sure they’ll be seen again – they’re the only ‘nice’ shoes I can get my horrible fat feet into.

It’s lovely to be able to celebrate  properly, to drink some wine with people who are actually buying your book – not only friends, but ‘real’ readers, too! I was thrilled to see so many people that I didn’t know at the event – some came because they’d seen it advertised in Waterstones, and some because they’d enjoyed the first book and had looked on my website. It’s especially nice when readers ask you to sign the book and tell you how much they’re looking forward to reading it. If you’re really lucky, they tell you how much they enjoyed your first book. Then you end up feeling very smiley!

I know some people don’t enjoy speaking in public, but I do. And I absolutely love doing readings and then taking questions from the audience. Hopefully it then becomes more of a conversation rather than simply a Q&A session. At the launch last week, there were loads of fascinating questions, some about the book, but mostly about the writing process, and I could talk about that for hours (and probably did!). There was lots of conversation and lots of laughter, and I had a wonderful time. I absolutely can’t wait to do it all again –  which means I really do need to get on with book three! 





Writing a first draft 2 (and 1!)

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Back in June 2012, I was struggling terribly with the first draft of my second novel. In despair one day, partly as a displacement activity and partly in order to give myself a talking to, I wrote a blog post about writing a first draft (I’ve copied and pasted the original post below, exactly as it appeared at the time.) I had a lot of feedback from this post; it seemed to strike a chord with many writers who said they’d found it helpful and encouraging. Well, now I find myself struggling with a first draft yet again, so I thought I’d return to this post and re-read it to see if it would ‘help and encourage’ me at all – because bloody hell, do I need some help and encouragement!

My third novel currently exists only in scraps and sketches, odd scenes and possible scenarios. There are some chapters, but will they stay? There are two versions of some scenes – one first person, one third person; I’m still not sure what works best. It’s all going on in my head – the characters have taken up residence and are talking to me all the time. The only trouble is, they keep changing – ages, names, occupations; all sorts. I have my themes – I think – and I have an outline of the story, but anyone who’s ever written longer fiction knows that the story changes as you go along, which means more planning, and more doubt creeping in. Can I make this work? Will I ever finish this book?

So I’ve re-read my own blog post and am happy to report that I do feel encouraged, because when I look at the post below, I can see that, back in June 2012, I had been feeling exactly the same way about the first draft of my second novel – and that novel is being published on 8th May 2014.

The Secrets We Left Behind is the indisputable evidence that what seemed utterly impossible to me at that point was possible – I did it, I finished the book and it’s coming out in two weeks’ time!

By the way – the launch is on 21st May at Waterstones, Orchard square, Sheffield at 6:30pm – do come along if you’re in the area!

I see that I’d hoped to finish a first draft by August 2012, but it actually took longer, and although I finished a rough draft just after Christmas, it was early April 2013 before I was ready to show the MS to my agent and my editor. But giving myself a deadline was still a good idea, because it encouraged me to push forward, to keep going, to keep putting the words on the page even though I knew there would be lots of rewriting to do and cuts to make.

I’m considering trying the ‘pebbles in a jar’ approach again (see original post), or maybe I’ll make a graph and stick it on the wall. But whatever happens, re-reading this post has reminded me that what I’m feeling now is normal (for me, anyway, and I think for a lot of other writers) and that I just need to keep going, to keep the faith. I hope this, and/or the original post might offer a glimmer of hope to those of you currently experiencing the agony of the first draft!

29 June 2012

18:50
Hemingway once said, ‘All first drafts are shit’.  Ernest, me old mate,  that is an understatement! I am referring, of course, to  my own current first-draft which at the moment is a steaming pile of merde if ever there was one.  I have to keep reminding myself that there were times when I felt the same about my first novel, but after a great deal of rewriting, I now think it’s rather good, and so do Simon & Schuster, who are publishing it in May 2013.
  
A novel has to start somewhere; it doesn’t just appear in the right order with the storylines perfectly developed, the characters rounded and convincing, the themes consistent, relevant and thought-provoking.   You have to craft and hone and polish.  And most writers agree that most of the crafting and honing and polishing comes later – after you’ve written the first draft.
But it ain’t easy, folks, so although I hope this post will encourage other authors who are currently wading through the mires of their own first drafts, it’s also a bit of a pep talk to myself, because at the moment, I’m going through a very sticky patch. I’m changing things  –  I’ve changed the  period  the novel is set in and the occupation of the main character, I’ve changed the age of a supporting character, and I’ve introduced a new viewpoint. No doubt there will be a lot more changes. I’m also plagued by doubts – is the plot too thin? Will it be believable? Are my characters convincing? Will the whole thing work? Will anybody give a flying feck?
The thing is, I know from past experience and from talking to other writers that it would be unusual not to be thinking like this at this stage. So I’m ploughing on and I hope to have a rough – very rough – first draft completed by mid-August. There! I’ve stated it publicly, so now I’ll have to do it! Some people write a first draft in a few weeks, and I envy them. I take considerably longer. I started working seriously on this idea in December, so if I hit my August deadline, it will have taken me eight to nine months – and at least the same again for rewriting.
 A couple of years ago, I attended a novel masterclass by award winning author Jill Dawson. Jill keeps a journal-type notebook for every novel, in which she records her thoughts about the novel and the writing process – she uses the notebook almost as a silent writing buddy, having ‘conversations ‘ with it about the work as it progresses.  With her most recent novel, she confided, she’d got to the 40,000 word point and had decided it wasn’t working, and what’s more, couldn’t be made to work. At the point of despair and on the verge of giving up, she decided to have a flick through notebooks from previous novels. She found that she had experienced the same excruciating doubts with every novel she’d ever written – including the orange-shortlisted ones – and very often at the 40,000 word point!
So what we need to do is to really get it into out heads that a first draft is little more than a rough sketch, and we fill in the colour and texture later. At this stage, even if you’ve done plenty of planning,  things will change along the way, so to a certain extent, you’re still telling yourself the story. There will be inconsistencies, plot threads that lead nowhere, one-dimensional characters, rubbish dialogue, important scenes that are skimmed over, lengthy scenes that will end up being cut completely. There will probably be superfluous back story,  lots of ‘telling’ and info-dumping, and no real sign of a decent theme. Stephen King tells us not to even think about themes in the first draft, and I think that’s good advice. The real themes may turn out to be different to what you expected, because your unconscious will have been working away on your behalf.
So no matter how dreadful your first draft seems now, just plough on.  Keep moving your story onwards, even if it feels mundane and clumsy, even if it goes off in directions you hadn’t planned. Remember that it isn’t set in stone  – a half-realised scene can be added to later; a digression that doesn’t work can be cut. Just keep putting the words down! Some writers like to check their word counts each day; others prefer to write for a timed period, or to write to a particular point in the story. I’m a word-count person, and I like to have some sort of visual encouragement, something that shows my progress. I reckon my first draft should be about 90,000 words, so I took two jars, and counted out 90 glass pebbles into one of them and stood them on my desk. For every thousand words I write, I move a pebble from the ‘to write’ jar to the ‘written’ jar.  
I’m happy to say that the jar on the right is the ‘written’ jar! It’s a little bit of nonsense, of course, because many of these words will end up being cut, but I find it helps to spur me on.

When you get to the end of a first draft, it’s time to celebrate – even if it’s pretty poor – because now you have something to work on. Rewriting and editing will turn a poor first draft into an okay one, and an okay draft into a good one. From there, you’re talking very good or even excellent. But if you don’t have a draft, you have nothing.
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#mywritingprocess – Blog Tour
I was invited to take part in this fascinating blog tour by the wonderful, multi-talented Rosie Garland 

What am I working on at the moment?

I’m currently working on my third novel, which is a terrible mess at the moment. There are scenes, character sketches, bits of dialogue, scraps of description – nothing really structured or coherent. I used to say that writing a novel is like trying to do a 10,000 piece jigsaw puzzle with no picture to help you, but I’ve decided that a better analogy is that it’s like a giant Rubik’s cube, because everything you do changes everything else. It’s also pretty difficult to concentrate at the moment because my second novel, The Secrets We Left Behind, is coming out in just a few weeks’ time on 8th May so I’m in alternating states of excited anticipation and nervous terror.

How does my work differ from others of that genre?

That’s a tough one to answer. I suppose I’m writing in that rather broad genre known as ‘women’s fiction’, and although it’s true my work is more likely to be read by women, I’ve had quite a few emails from men who’ve enjoyed my first novel.  I always hoped my writing would appeal to men as well as women, and the themes in my work are certainly not restricted to those that would only be of interest to women. My first novel addresses mental illness and ECT, fatherhood as well as motherhood, the nature/nurture debate, family relationships and other things. But then so do other books that come under the so-called ‘women’s fiction’ umbrella. Come to think of it, I’m not sure my work does differ that much from others of its genre! I think it’s a genre that’s rich and varied.

Why do I write what I do?

I’m obsessed with parenthood, nature/nurture and parent-and-child relationships. Having a baby is such a profound, life-changing event that even though I did it over 30 years ago, it still blows my mind to think that I produced two real, completely unique human beings. And of course I’m a daughter as well as a mother so I can look at it from that angle too. I’m fascinated by heredity, by our genetic make-up. My children are like me, yet not like me; like their dad, yet not like their dad. They have the same genes and they grew up in the same environment, so what is it that makes them so different from each other in so many ways? And as for my sister and me – same genes, same environment, and yet we too are very different. I tend to think that nature is extremely powerful, so the genetic (the ‘nature’) side of someone’s character may be able to push through the environmental (‘nurture’) side.  Maybe that’s why I write about weather, too – I’m in awe of the power of nature.

How does your writing process work?

My writing process is actually pretty chaotic. I really need to be more disciplined and I keep promising myself I’ll get organised – tomorrow! I tend to write in fits and starts. First, I decide very, very roughly what happens and to whom. Then I spend a lot of time making notes, often in the form of questions, e.g. “Maybe she could live in Nottingham?” “Maybe he’s a teacher?” “What if she decides not to have children?”  So when I have a clearer idea of the characters, I start to write a few scenes and see where they take me. If it’s going well, I write around 1000-1200 words a day. That usually lasts for a few days and then I grind to a halt because I’ve hit a problem. I find that problems can often be resolved by going for a walk or sleeping on it and allowing the subconscious to get to work. But sometimes it’s just that I’m not sure what’s going to happen next. I always advise my students to just keep writing when this happens, because the very act of writing will often show you the way. Unfortunately, I’m not good at taking my own advice, so sometimes days or weeks go by when I don’t write a thing. I sit at my desk every day, open the document, read what I’ve written, cry a little, then close it and go out. This may happen several times, but I find a way through eventually. For me, the most difficult and painful part of writing a novel is getting that first draft down. I know what the story is about before I start, but I don’t know everything that happens. Once I’ve got to the end of the first draft, I know the characters and I know what happens, so that’s when I go back to the beginning and write the thing properly – that’s the bit I love!

Next week: the blog tour features two more fantastic writers, Penny Hancock and Rebecca Muddiman

Penny is a writer and teacher- her psychological thrillers are based on things she’s afraid might happen to her! She also writes short stories and articles. Penny’s debut novel, Tideline, was a Richard and Judy read in 2012. Her second novel, The Darkening Hour, came out in 2013 and her third is due out later this year. Read more about Penny and her work here 

Rebecca writes crime fiction set in the North East. Her first novel, Stolen, was released in May 2013 and won the Northern Crime Competition in 2012 as well as a Northern Writers’ Award in 2010. Her second book, Gone, will be published by Hodder in January 2015. Read more about Rebecca and her work here

A thrilling first year…

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When The Things We Never Said, was published last year, it was a long-held dream come true, but I prepared myself for the book to have a relatively short ‘shelf life’, because this is what so often happens to debut novels. However I have been extremely fortunate in that readers are continuing to buy it, partly due to good reviews on Amazon and Goodreads, but also, I think, because of the exquisite cover, which I fell in love with the moment I saw it. 
Not long after the novel was published, I learned that it had been selected for the Read Regional Campaign, which was wonderful news. The campaign is now well and truly under way, and I’m thoroughly enjoying my role in it, which is to give readings and talks in various libraries across Yorkshire and the North East. And as if that weren’t enough, good things continue to happen!

I was delighted (and more than a little surprised) to hear recently that the novel has been shortlisted for the Romantic Novel of the Year Award in the ‘contemporary’ category. Other categories are:  Epic Romantic Novel, Historical Romantic Novel, Comedy Romantic Novel, and Young Adult Romantic Novel. The shortlisting was a huge surprise because, while there is a strong love story in the book, it’s not what I would call a romantic story in the traditional sense, although maybe what we define as ‘romantic’ is changing? 
Anyway, I’m thrilled to bits to be shortlisted, and I’m looking forward to the awards ceremony in London later this month – I get to drink some fizz, wear a new dress and chat with the other shortlisted authors.  I‘m up against some fabulous novelists, so I shall make sure I practice my ‘good loser’ face in the mirror.

So, this was all very lovely, and then last week, I discovered that The Things We Never Said has been longlisted for the Waverton Good Read Award. This prize is awarded by the people of Waverton for the best debut novel published in the last 12 months. As you’ll see from the longlist, I’m in stellar company! A shortlist of five will be announced later in March. I would be ecstatic to be on it, but looking at who I’m up against, I won’t be holding my breath! And anyway, there’s more excitement coming soon as publication day for my second novel, The Secrets We Left Behind approaches.


It’s all very exciting, and I’m absolutely loving my first year as a published novelist. I’m just worried that at some point, I’m going to wake up… 

Another post about writing retreats!

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03 September 2013
19:55
As some of you will know, I’ve been busy moving house and doing lots (and lots and lots) of decorating, so other things have suffered, including my second novel, which is at what I call the ‘serious editing’ stage; that is, after lots of editing as I went along, I finished the first draft, read it through and did a final (ha!) edit before sending it to my agent and editor. I’m now working my way through their insightful comments. They’ve picked up on some things that I sort of knew but was ignoring and other things that I just didn’t see because I’m too close to the manuscript.
So after reading through the novel again and having a really good think, I booked myself a few days away at a retreat where I knew, having been there before, that I’d get a significant amount of work done. Mount Pleasant (still comes up on Google as Mount Pleasant Artists’ Rest Home, but don’t be put off by the name – it’s not a convalescent home!) is a beautiful house in Reigate, Surrey, owned by a charitable trust set up in the 1920s to provide a quiet place for professional creative artists to work or take a break to recharge their batteries. The terms of the trust stated that this should be open only to men but the present-day trustees were anxious to change this, so in 2012 Mount Pleasant began to welcome female guests.
My room at Mount Pleasant

The elegant house has seven large, comfortable bedrooms, and there are views over the grounds to the surrounding Surrey hills. Places are heavily subsidised by the trust, so guests pay only around £35 a night (+VAT) for full board. But the best thing (for me, anyway) is that you don’t have to even think about food. Every meals is prepared for you, served to you, and cleared away after you. And then they bring you lovely coffee! Hell, I didn’t so much as wash a cup! I’ve blogged before about the particular value of writing retreats for women who, even in 2013, still tend to take the lion (ess)’s share of domestic responsibility, so this is a particularly attractive resource for women.
The view from my window

So, if you’re a professional (i.e. published) writer and you’d like to stay at Mount Pleasant, what can you expect, and how does it differ from an Arvon retreat? At Arvon, you’re in the company of 15 other writers, and you’ll do a very small amount of cooking and washing up. The social side is of great importance and most evenings are spent drinking wine and chatting, with the odd informal night of readings. It’s a wonderfully nourishing creative experience, open to published and unpublished writers, and the vast majority of those who attend lament the fact that retreats and courses last a mere five days.
Mount Pleasant may not have the same creative ‘vibe’ for writers – it’s open to painters, composers and architects as well – but as well as the difference in the catering arrangements and the number of people staying (sometimes seven, sometimes none) you can book for anything from two days to three weeks. Also, there’s a television (shock horror!) although guests often do prefer to chat in the evenings, and there’s also internet access for those who want it.
Some people may be put off by the formality of meals, which are taken communally at 9am, 1pm and 7pm. Those of us used to the sort of food on offer at Arvon may find the food at Mount Pleasant a little old-fashioned, but it’s good, fresh food (some of it grown in the grounds), beautifully cooked and attractively presented. There’s a cooked breakfast every morning, a main course and pud for lunch, and a starter and main course for dinner, which is followed by cheese and fruit. You can take your own wine.
Many of the regulars have been staying there for 20, 30 or even 40+ years, and given that it’s only recently opened its doors to women, you’re quite likely to meet at least some elderly male guests. During my first stay, I was the only woman and at least three of my six fellow guests were over 80, but all were still working within the creative arts – still publishing books, still exhibiting paintings. I must confess to being somewhat daunted by the fierce intellect around the table, but I needn’t have been because everyone was extremely welcoming and I found the company both charming and fascinating.
Mount Pleasant still feels a little like an exclusive gentleman’s club, but women are gradually becoming more frequent guests – during my recent stay we even outnumbered the men at one point! And the trustees are keen for this trend to continue. I was also made very welcome by the staff – you are incredibly well looked after at Mount Pleasant. I came away feeling that I’d had a really good rest, but also that I’d achieved significantly more work than I would have done had I been at home.
The website is: http://www.mpartists.co.uk/ For more information or to enquire, email: mp.artists@gmail.com or call: 01737 243233 

For more about me and my work, visit: www.susanelliotwright.co.uk

An Arvon retreat and a book coming out – can life get any better?

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On Saturday, I got back from an Arvon writing retreat at Lumb Bank, the beautiful Arvon writing house overlooking the Calder Valley near Hebden Bridge in West Yorkshire.  This is my fifth writing retreat, and for the first time ever, I didn’t go with a rigid goal in mind – finish a complete short story; write two new chapters; edit ten chapters.  I’m at a slightly odd stage at the moment, because  *drum roll* my debut novel, The Things We Never Said is being published tomorrow (whoop whoop!) and although I’ve completed a first draft of my second novel, I’m waiting for some feedback before starting on the rewrites. So this time, I didn’t actually have anything specific to do!


It was wonderful –  probably the first time I’ve been on a retreat without feeling under extreme pressure to make significant leaps forward with a work in progress. This time, I allowed myself to thoroughly enjoy the experience. I went for walks down into the valley, along by the river, and then up much higher to take advantage of the spectacular views. I also drafted a couple of features, did some reading and spent some time thinking about my next novel. 

Considering it’s the middle of May, the weather was, shall we say, interesting. It was pretty chilly the first couple of days, and while walking through the wild garlic and unseasonably late bluebells, we got rained on, hailed on, and almost swept off the path by high winds. But it sort of adds to the experience in a way.

I always sleep with the window open at Lumb Bank so I can hear the river at the bottom of the valley and breathe in the crisp Yorkshire air. An added treat on the third night was a dramatic and satisfyingly lengthy rumble of thunder. 

In the evenings, people tend to congregate in the sitting room for a glass of wine at about 6.30 before dinner is served at seven, and then most of us hang around chatting and drinking wine for the rest of the evening. The final night, Friday, is usually given over to readings, and as is often the case, I was blown away by the talent that was revealed as people read from their novels, biographies, sketches and short stories  It was a particularly lovely group, and it was a joy and privilege to spend this time in the company of such friendly and interesting writers. 

The retreat lasts from Monday to Saturday, and as always, it’s over too soon. But here I am back home with drafts of three articles and a jumble of images, characters and half-formed ideas for my next novel tumbling about in my head.

I feel rested, ready to tackle the rewrites of novel number two, and even more ready to enjoy the immensely exciting experience coming up *second drum roll*  the publication of my debut novel. The official release date is tomorrow (23 May), but people have started receiving their pre-ordered Amazon copies today. I’ve received my twelve free author copies, and am now signing them to send around the family. 
If you’ve had a book published yourself, you’ll have some idea of how I’m feeling at the moment. Someone asked me a few days ago how it felt to hold a copy of the book in my hands for the first time; I replied that it wasn’t quite as good as holding my newborn babies for the first time, but it came a close second. 
I’m probably not going to be able to stop myself from going and peering at it on the shelves in Waterstones tomorrow, and then after that, I’ll be getting even more excited about the launch next week.
If you’re in or near Sheffield, do come and join me – I’ll be reading from the book and signing copies afterwards. That’s if I don’t explode with excitement in the meantime! The launch is at Waterstones, Orchard Square, Sheffield, on Wednesday 29th of May at 6.30-8pm, and there will be a glass of wine!

What I’ve read this year

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I started by thinking I was going to do a top 10 of 2012 reads, but to be honest, it’s been such a good reading year that I’d struggle to pick my ten favourites.
Perhaps the most surprising discovery of the year was the result of a book I picked up for 50p in a charity shop. I fondly remembered the first two Adrian Mole books, so when I saw Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction, I thought it might be a pleasant distraction. I enjoyed it so much that I ended up wanting to re-read the first two (which didn’t disappoint) and then go right through all the other books in the series.  I haven’t actually read them yet, but I’m looking forward to reading The True Confessions, The Wilderness Years, The Cappuccino Years, The Lost Diaries, and The Prostrate Years in 2013.
As you can see from the list below, there have been a few other re-reads this year, all of which I have enjoyed just as much, if not more, second time around. When I know what happens at the end of a book, I love spotting how the author sets it up through the earlier chapters. It makes me think that we should read every book twice!
The only book I really struggled to finish this year was Me Cheetah, which I read for my book club.  I loved the first 50 pages or so, but once  you get but the joke – it’s a spoof memoir full of scandalous gossip surrounding Hollywood stars of the 1930s and 40s – it all seems a bit repetitive.
The two books that stayed with me the longest were Archipelago (review of Archipelago) and the Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, which was one of the most unusual and touching books I’ve read for a long time. Other highlights were:  Hurry up and Wait, (review of Hurry up and Wait) Jubilee, (review of Jubilee) My Dear I Wanted to Tell You, God’s Own Country, (review of God’s Own Country) Tideline, (review of Tideline) When It Happens to You, The Hunger Trace,  Rook, (review of Rook) How to Be a Good Wife, and…oh, so many of them!! I’ve reviewed a few of them, as you can see, but sadly I just don’t have time to review them all. 
Anyway, perhaps you’ll find some ideas here, or maybe you’ll decide to re-read something you’ve already read once.
January
Carry me Down by M J Hyland
Hurry up and Wait by Isabel Ashdown
One Day by David Nicholls
February
Jubilee by Shelley Harris
The War Horse by Michael Morpurgo
Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes
Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction by Sue Townsend
March
The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole aged 13 3/4 (re-read)
The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole (re-read)
My Dear I Wanted to Tell You by Louisa Young
Before I go to Sleep by S J Watson
A Movable Feast by Ernest Hemingway
April
Ordinary Thunderstorms By William Boyd
The Road Home by Rose Tremain (re-read)
In the Kitchen by Monica Ali
May
Gods Own Country by Ross Raisin
The Victorian Chaise-longue by Marghanita Laski
The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman (re-read)
June
Tideline by Penny Hancock
A Perfectly Good Man by Patrick Gale
When it happens To You by Molly Ringwald
July
The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce
The Hunger Trace by Ed Hogan
Rook by Jane Rusbridge
The Cement Garden by Ian McEwan (re-read)
Me Cheeta by James Lever
August
The Leftovers by Tom Perotta
My Dirty Little Book of Stolen Time by Liz Jensen
Me Before You by Jo Jo Moyes
The Untold Story by Monica Ali
Archipelago by Monique Roffey
September
Even the Dogs by John McGregor
Last Orders by Graham Swift
How to be a Good Wife by Emma Chapman
October
Secret History by Donna Tartt (re-read)
The Help by Katheryn Stockett
November
The Hand That First Held Mine by Maggie O’Farrell (re-read)
The Believers by Zoe Heller
When God was a Rabbit by Sarah Winman
December
A Good Man in Africa by William Boyd
TBR This is my read-over- Christmas treat: Instructions for a Heatwave by Maggie O’Farrell
So, I made it to 42 this year – I’ve been aiming for 50 for the last few years, so failed again. Oh well, another wonderful reading year beckons.
Merry Christmas to everyone, and happy reading!
 To find out more about me and my work, go to my website

In Praise of Personal Shoppers

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Writers need personal shoppers! We’re always short of time and money, not to mention inspiration, and whenever I go clothes shopping, I end up wasting a hell of a lot of the first two because I’m so lacking in the third. I’d always thought that you only used a personal shopper if you were wealthy and fashion conscious, or if your son, daughter or best friend was getting married. But I kept seeing those ads telling me that a personal shopper could help me with anything, whether it was a dress for a special occasion, a new work outfit or a complete wardrobe update.
Now, I don’t have any special occasions coming up  – my daughter got married a couple of years ago, and it took me four solid, gruelling days to find something suitable. I can’t afford a complete wardrobe update, and like most writers, my daily commute is a trip up the stairs and across the landing to my study, and my ‘work outfit’ usually consists of faded pyjamas and a coffee-stained dressing gown, (or if it’s my turn to take the dog out, mud-splattered jeans and a baggy sweatshirt).  But I do occasionally emerge blinking into the sunlight in order to teach my evening classes or even to socialise.
I try to make myself at least look reasonably tidy when I’m teaching, although my students are very forgiving and if I turn up in dog-walking jeans and with rubbish hair, they don’t seem to mind. But I have become increasingly aware of the fact that all my jeans, having faded and lost their shape, now look like dog-walking jeans. And also, I have far too many black T-shirts – faded black T-shirts at that. The painful truth is: I need  new clothes.
I hate clothes shopping. I hate it with a passion, and I don’t have time for it. It’s usually a whole day trawling the shops, the painful revelation of the many-mirrored dressing room (you know, the ones that show you the back and side views of yourself as well as the front view); the misery of having to confront my spare tyre, and the disappointment when the garment that looked so gorgeous on the hanger looks like a dog blanket once I’ve got it on. I end up going home with a pair of jeans that don’t fit properly, two more black T-shirts, and a brightly coloured top that I’ll never wear. Another day wasted when I could have been working on my novel. Money wasted, too, because it transpires that I end up not liking the jeans or one of the black tops. I then spend the next day beating myself up because I’ve wasted so much time and money.
But now something wonderful has happened – I’ve discovered the joys of the personal shopper.  I broke my ankle recently,  and was still hobbling around on crutches when I realised that the clothes situation was quite serious. There was no way I could walk around town for hours trying to find jeans that fit properly or a new top that wasn’t  another black T-shirt, so I booked a session with a personal shopper, making it clear that I needed very basic things – jeans, a couple of tops, and maybe a new bra. I forgot to mention my bras, which are rather like the T-shirts – black, faded and, shall we say, a little tired.
I found the experience easy, stress-free and almost pleasurable. I sat in a changing room the size of a small bedroom, flicking through the magazine and drinking my complimentary cappuccino while the personal shopper, a wonderfully patient and ever-smiling young woman called Sophie, bought me selection after selection of jeans, tops, and bras. She put up with my succession of rejections, her smile never faltering when I told her I didn’t like the neckline, wasn’t sure about the colour, felt it was too old for me, too young for me, the sleeves were too puffy, too long, too straight, the leg was too wide, too narrow, the waistline too snug, too loose. Honestly, if I’d have been her, I’d have slapped me. But she just smiled and went off to find yet more items for me to try.
An hour and a half later, I emerged with three pairs of jeans, three tops (none of which are black!) and two bras, which are not only pretty, but which actually make the faded black T-shirts look slightly better. Since this wonderful shopping experience, I have worn everything I bought. I was out and back in just over two hours, and three weeks on, I still like every single garment.

Oh, forgot to add – the service is free, too! (It’s free in Debenhams, anyway – I think some stores make a small charge but it’s usually deducted from any purchase you make.)

I will never, ever try to do my own clothes shopping again!
For more about me and my work, visit www.susanelliotwright.co.uk

And to access a list of recipes and book reviews on this blog, go to: recipes and book reviews and scroll down the page (past the writing bits)


Review of Archipelago, by Monique Roffey

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I knew I’d like this book, because it’s got a lot of sea and a lot of weather, and I like a bit of sea and weather. But I didn’t realise what a treat I was in for. This book is beautiful; one of the most beautiful books, in fact, that I have ever read. The writing is, in many places, exquisite, and characters so real they have taken up residence in my heart.
After a devastating flood sweeps through their home in Trinidad, killing his baby son, Gavin takes his six-year-old daughter, Ocean, and their elderly dog, Suzy, and sets sail in Romany, the boat he owns with a friend but hasn’t sailed for years. It’s a spur of the moment decision and it soon becomes clear that he hasn’t quite thought it through. But Gavin cannot continue in the life that he’s been left with. Is he running away? Perhaps. But it’s more of a journey of discovery. He needs to find out who he is now that the flood has swept away his identity as a husband and father, provider and protector.   ‘His wife made him healthy, stable. Now he is half-himself, not himself.’ 
It was the power of nature that took so much away from him, and it is as though he now wants to face nature, to put his trust in it once more.  As they sail through archipelagos and out across the vast ocean, they come up against nature’s violence and treachery, which is vividly, often viscerally described:
‘The boat begins to buck and nosedive into the waves…forward and then backwards; up and then down; restless unpredictable rollercoaster movements…He’s forgotten how quickly the sea can change. One moment it can be flat, quiet, agreeable, then of another mood entirely, wicked and vexed. The sea can be a bitch. She can hurl you  from your bunk, have you vomiting out your guts, lash you with stray halyards. She never wants to be taken for granted.’
But they also encounter moments of startling beauty and joy. They see flying fish and brightly coloured coral; they swim with dolphins, and they encounter many other wonders of nature.
I won’t deny that this book has some terribly sad moments. I sobbed – I mean sobbed – more than once; but I also felt the more positive emotions, the awe, the delight, the amusement, the love. This is Monique Roffey’s real skill; the observations are so acute, the imagery so perfect, that not only do we see what the characters see, hear what they hear and smell what they smell, we actually feel what they feel.
The relationship between father and daughter is beautifully drawn. Gavin is often humbled by his daughter, by her trust in him and by her perceptiveness. He observes her closely and suffers with her:
‘He can see her puzzling…she is quietly working out how many different types of loss might exist. Many, my mermaid. Many.’
I loved the characters in this novel, especially the three main characters, Ocean with her little Snoopy sunglasses, Suzy, the faithful dog who eats with them,  sleeps with them and swims with them, and Gavin, who is a good man, struggling to cope. This is a novel of loss and grief, but also of the power of love and life. When I’d finished it, I didn’t want to start another book for a while, because I wanted to dwell on this one for just a bit longer. I’m pretty certain I’ll be reading it again.  
For more about me and my work, visit www.susanelliotwright.co.uk

And to access a list of recipes and book reviews on this blog, go to: recipes and book reviews and scroll down the page (past the writing bits)