Archive for category Interviews
The pleasure of slow journeys and why we love to read – guest post at Isabel Costello’s Literary Sofa
Why is reading such a pleasure? With all the other things we could do to entertain ourselves, why does a good book still grip our imaginations and our hearts? What does it offer that nothing else can beat?
Today I’m puzzling this out on the Literary Sofa, which is the blog of Isabel Costello. Her name might sound familiar because she was a recent guest on The Undercover Soundtrack. Today she’s invited me to her cosily-named online home. Bring tea and cushions.
‘Writers are introverts who want to tell you a story but not make eye contact’: discuss. Interview at Jane Davis
The above statement is from John Green, author of The Fault In Our Stars. It’s an interesting jump-off point to discuss some of the paradoxes of the writing temperament – quiet people who are expressive; private people who want to draw you into a deep experience.
Today I’m at Jane Davis’s Virtual Book Club blog, discussing this and a few other matters. Although we also cover the origin story of Not Quite Lost, which many of you already know, we soon get on to plenty of other talk. And Jane is celebrating a big birthday this week, so if you’re quick, you can take advantage of a special offer she’s running on her own books. Step this way. Don’t be shy.
I am so chuffed to be on The Quivering Pen books blog, the online hideout of Iraq War novelist David Abrams. I’ve been following it for years. I have shamelessly headhunted many of its guests for The Undercover Soundtrack (and yes, you’ll see David’s Soundtrack here soon).
David has a series called My First Time, where authors confess a virgin experience of writing and publishing life. I’m there today talking about distraction projects – creative stuff you do when you really should be doing something else. You probably all know my travel diary is one of those, but I’ve actually been far more distractible than that. In my time I’ve made recipe books and a music soundtrack for a series of illustrated books. All of which taught me surprising things when I returned to my proper work.
Anyway, do pop over. Especially if you really should be doing something more important.
Inspiration from travel and why you always have to visit your host’s bathroom – guest post at Vivienne Tuffnell’s blog
There’s no doubt that travel is good for creativity, but travel doesn’t have to mean going to new places. There’s also the other sense – the act of being in motion, of making a journey. Journeying is one of my favourite creative times. I look forward to getting in my car and daydreaming while I drive a familiar route, or looking out of a window while sitting on a train (provided it is actually moving, of course).
Today I’m at the blog of Vivienne Tuffnell (whose name you might recognise as an Undercover Soundtrack contributor, and more besides). One of Viv’s chief interests is creativity, and having read Not Quite Lost, she asked me to come to her blog and talk about the benefits of travel for freeing the imagination. Especially the unexpected places that inspiration might hide.
Which brings me to the bathroom. To find out more, take a trip to Viv’s blog.
Oh my heavens, it’s publication day. Not Quite Lost: Travels Without A Sense of Direction is no longer a tease in a tweet or a blogpost. It’s a real thing. A paperback book. A hunk of Kindle estate, or Kobo, or whatever other ebook format floats your boat. (Though there are no boats in the travels … plenty of buses, however.)
And my writer/designer friend Henry Hyde has invited me to his blog to chat about it. We cover technical stuff like developing a writing style, influences like Bill Bryson and Gavin Maxwell, and some of the main thematic stops such as the romance of old houses, impostor syndrome and 1970s Doctor Who. Do hop aboard. Oh, and you can find the book here.
Ruinlust. It’s a word that means ‘the unseemly feeling of attraction to abandoned places and crumbling buildings’. At least, that’s what Robert Macfarlane said when I had a chat with him about it on Twitter. And if anyone would know, he would. (Here’s why.)
I don’t understand the ‘unseemly’ part, though I suspect Husband Dave might. He is not as ruinlustful as I am. (‘Must we trek all that way to look at that half-derelict tower, Roz?’)
Anyway, how is this connected with ideas and where they come from?
When book blogger Davida Chazan (The Chocolate Lady) reviewed Not Quite Lost, she pounced on a note in the afterword where I mentioned the settings that had appeared in my fiction. A magnificent decaying mansion in Devon. The remains of drowned towns in Suffolk. They were the seeds of Lifeform Three. Ruinlust, through and through.
But settings can give you more than just a sense of place. As I edited, I had a surprise. I wasn’t just dusting off old anecdotes, I was digging the archeology of my own themes and curiosities. Memory, identity. Buried histories. (More about that here.)
Davida asked me to come to her blog and write a proper post about it. It seems that even if you go back into your own past, it’s still a new journey. Out of sight, not out of mind. Do come over.
I’m at The Creative Penn today talking about the process of turning a set of personal diaries into a book for outside readers. We cover the thorny topics of writing about real people, staying faithful to the truth, organising material – and also when a personal account might be better left quietly in a drawer.
As usual with the wonderful Joanna, you can read a transcript, download an audio or watch us wave our hands and crook our eyebrows on video. And there’s an appearance of the actual diary that started it all (now looking rather tattered). This is the direct video link, if that’s your thing.
I’m also at Clare Flynn’s blog, with a more leisurely conversation about personal journeys – from my own writing journey, to creating the book, to a provocative statement from Anthony Burgess. He said all literature was mostly about sex. If you want to chew that over, step this way. Oh, and there’s also an ‘ahhh’ moment with a big old friend.