I’ve been writing a short story for the last week or so, based on an idea I had jotted down many moons ago. The entirety of the story has already put itself together in my head, which is very handy as it means I am now left with solely the writing to do.
There was a new experience for me this week when I gave a talk about my writing to a live audience. And no, they hadn’t been tricked into coming along and then being locked in the room! At least, that’s what I was told.
I completed the initial draft of a new novel about three week ago and then the first re-write this week. Sitting back as I saved the document on my PC, I finally had to acknowledge a feeling I’ve been aware of for some time but have been fending off. I need to set myself free.
The crowds on the broad, tree-lined promenade that was London’s Victoria Embankment were substantial. Fleet-footed delivery boys and office messengers weaved their way around smartly dressed bankers and lawyers, on their way to or from important engagements, or newly-arrived tourists who wandered at their leisure, gawping at the sights shown in their guidebooks.
A close relative has worked in the newspaper business for over two decades, first as a journalist and then as editorial staff. This has provided me with a close up view of what happens to an industry when it fails to adapt to a changing world and, especially, to its customers’ needs and expectations. I can’t help but realise this has some important lessons for me as a writer and publisher.
Every once in a while, I will find myself writing a new character that I know I want to belong very much to a particular time and place. Right clothes. Right interests. Right beliefs. The list can go on and on. There’s a lot to take into account and I want to get things right.
I’m lucky that we have a study, a room in the house with a desk, where the PC lives and where we keep most of our many books. In theory this gives me a place to hide away, free from interruptions, when I’m writing. The thing is, that’s not what happens in practice.
The origins of the British Secret Service can be traced back to 1909 with the establishment of the Secret Service Bureau. Initially staffed by just two officers, Royal Navy Commander Mansfield Cumming and Army captain Vernon Kell, its initial focus was on addressing concerns about German espionage activities based largely on German nationals in Britain.
If you’re of an old enough vintage, you may recall a song by the band Orange Juice where they suggest you might like to rip it up and start again. Well, metaphorically speaking, that is what happened to some of my writing this week. It’s a sad tale but not one without its upside.