An outcome, an edit, a rewrite, a decision and yet another outcome.

That's my way of saying that, while I've been heartlessly neglecting you for the last month or so, there's been looooads going on 'behind the scenes'.

Which is true...kinda. The two outcomes were, in fact, remarkably similar in that they were both rejections. The most recent was just yesterday when I found out that novel 'Burning Matches' (remember that guy?) didn't win Poolbeg's 'Write-A-Bestseller' competition. Congrats to Siobhan McKenna, author of 'The Lingerie Designer' . The title suggests that it probably won't be my thing but, then again, I wouldn't have thought David Nicholls' 'One Day' was my thing either and I stayed up til three in the morning reading that.
The other 'Thanks-but-no-thanks', and one that hit me harder (or maybe the Poolbeg one just hasn't sunk in yet) was from Literary Agency Blake Friedmann on behalf of 'Square One'. I'll be honest, I did think I was at least going to get over the first hurdle on that one, due in no small part to the excellent recommendation it got from Accomplice TV. But hey, it's the 'real' rejections that make us stronger...or something.

But, not to worry, it's not all doom and gloom. I am today, after a brief sojourn to do some actual paid work (heaven forbid), starting the rewrite for 'Writing for Brahms', my first attempt at stage-writing. Needless to say, it wasn't quite the masterpiece I had decided it was the day I finished the first draft, but thanks to my ever-honest and pragmatic writers' group, I was shown, in no small detail, the error of my ways. So the re-write starts now, and not a minute too soon - it has to be on the desk of the Soho theatre by Friday week.

And lastly, the sad announcement that I have made the momentous decision not to proceed with writing the novel 'Lividity'. Having written the first three chapters, I've kinda 'fallen out of love with it'. It also might have something to do with a large part of it being about a person working in Dublin's new state-of-the-art crime lab...and then the other day, I came across the recently published 'Taboo' by Casey Hill, about a person working in Dublin's new state-of-the-art crime lab. Ouch. Can anyone spell 'Missed-The-Boat'?

Not to worry, the next novel is already stewing away in my brain ready to pop out just when I need it. Coz that's how creativity works, right?

Dems fighting words...

As some of my fellow scribes will certain attest to, there is one thing that I love doing more than actual writing. Talking about Writing. I do. A lot.

I'm no different from the rest of the world, really. We all have something we're passionate about and we'll talk passionately about it at any opportunity. This is something I learned when researching for Burning Matches . Chefs talk food, climbers talk climbing and pathologists talk, yes you guessed it, pathology. (What the hell is this book about? I hear you ask.) And so, by the same rational, I talk writing.

And now, lo and behold, I have found a place, a controlled environment so-to-speak, where I can talk and people listen! I am, in fact, referring to Fighting Words, the creative writing centre in Russell Street, Dublin 1. It was set up by Roddy Doyle and Sean Love to give everyone a place to go to write and to help students develop their writing skills. It was inspired by 826 Valencia, a similar centre in San Francisco.
Fighting Words provide story-telling fieldtrips for Primary school groups, creative writing workshops for secondary students, and seminars, workshops and tutoring for adults. All tutoring is free.

I'm involved in the secondary student workshops, which start with a brainstorming session in which all aspects of creative writing (plot, character, dialogue etc) are discussed between the group. After that, the students have an opportunity to work on their writing and the volunteers (that's me) are available to offer guidance, answer questions and help the writers create their masterpieces!

I've been to two sessions so far and I'm going back for more next week. Tiz great fun!

The Universe Expandeth...

I am simply referring to Paul_The_Writer's writing universe of all-things-writing, not the, yeh know, actual universe. It might have expanded too, I suppose, but I am so self-involved these days that it's likely I wouldn't have noticed. I didn't even realise that Ireland's politico had it's own little melt-down yesterday until my fellow writerbloggertweeter MSD told me about it.

Speaking of melt-downs, I had one myself this week. (See? I can even take the imminent destruction of our government and make it about me). But, yes, I did have a melt-down.

I should have seen it coming, I suppose. Having started my second novel after Christmas, and telling anyone who asked that I was inspired, motivated, even excited about writing it, how many chapters have I written thus far?
One.
Yes, that's right. No need to adjust your set. One.

And I know why. Because I'm not inspired, motivated or excited about it. Not even a little bit. I like the story, I'm pretty sure it works and, without doubt, it will be an easier book to write than its predecessor. But that's as enthusiastic as I can get.

But in the spirit of that whole 'closing-a-door-opening-a-window' thing, I discovered (during one of my many moments of procrastiation) that I have a interesting date in my diary. March 11th.
March 11th is the deadline for the Verity Margate Award. Soho Theatre are looking for a new play that will stand out from the crowd. 'The only limit is your imagination'...apparently.

Yes I know, what do I know about writing for the stage? Well do I have an idea for a play? Thank god, yes. First hurdle.

Technically, I probably don't know much, but I've seen enough theatre to know the basic rules and I hope that if I apply my own 'process' (there he goes talking about that shit again), the rest will fall into place...with the help of my wide circle of fabulous writing friends and the few thespian-types that I know (CS, you reading this?).

And the most important word in that paragraph? 'Deadline'. I realised that that's what I need right now. Writing a novel (or anything) for publication on some indistinct far-off date doesn't exactly lend itself to being desk-side by nine, does it?

So, huge sigh of relief right now - I know what I'm doing...until I change my mind tomorrow, that is.

You don't have to follow me. You don't have to follow anybody!

Denis Lehane, Aaron Sorkin, Tony Jordan...yes you guessed it, some of my writing heroes. But do I really want to know what's going on inside their heads?

The knee-jerk response will of course be 'Yes of course you should'. They have been doing this forever and have managed to make a very successful career of it, so anything they have learned, discovered or invented to make me a good write should be noted and copied with immediate effect. And thanks to Facebook (somewhat), Twitter (big-time) and now websites like bloodsandscripts.com, the brains of these behemoths could not be more accessible.

There are two reasons why knowing the processes of other writers, whether you bow to their superior talent or not, is not such a good idea. The first one comes via Monty Python, or more specifically Brian - 'We are all different.' A truism, I will admit, but it is valid. Basically, if I wrote the way a certain horror writer (initials SK) does, I would get nothing done. Not a jot. Because he writes with classical music playing at Volume 11.
I would, first-of-all, spend most of my time recovering from the daily beating from my neighbours on the other side of the cardboard walls. But, more importantly, with any music on in the background, my concentration levels would be at minus-11. I have to have silence.
Irish romance novelist MB tells us that she does her best work in the pre-dawn hours. Me? Get out of bed while it's still dark? Give me a break.
Another successful novelist (the name currently escapes me) writes everything by pen in a notebook and later transcribe to print. No thanks. I need my laptop. I once scribbled a chapter in a notebook while drunk on an Arran island (I forget which one). I then duly forgot what I had written and lost the notebook. I'm still certain that it was the best thing I ever wrote.

Which leads me on to sunny point number two. And that is that I'm precious. I'll freely admit that. I have spent the last almost-three years (more like eight if you include my years as a part-timer) creating my own writing process out of a combination of circumstance, habit, technology-addiction, caffeine-addiction and procrastination. I'm not saying it's perfect or that it's etched in stone - it continues to be sculpted and honed on a daily basis - but it's mine.

So by all means, hero, write your next masterpiece by dictating while hanging upside-down in a door frame, but don't expect me to follow. I'll be too busy drinking a cappucino.

Mirror mirror on the wall...

It's the New Year and at the risk of being a cliche, time for some reflection.

Twenty-ten was a mixed bag of a year and the highlight, it has to be said, was more a decision than it was an event.

The year kicked off on a non-writing relating milestone (yeah I do have some other stuff going on). I was headlong into my Project Management studies and at the end of January I sat (and thankfully passed) my exams. Only to quickly realise that that there was still no jobs out there, no matter how well qualified I was.

So the decision to be a professional writer was an easy one to make then? Yeah, probably.

It may have looked like I was already being a professional writer since I started writing 'Burning Matches' in 2008, but I quickly realised that one cannot make a career out of just writing novels, even published ones. Not at the start anyway. So certain priorities had to change and actions taken.....and more about that when I have something definitive to report. (But thanks to a certain TV producer - you know who you are - for getting the ball rolling).

The same producer was also very generous in writing me a letter of recommendation on the back of my other pride-and-joy, the TV Drama Series 'Square One'. That went through a bit of a face-lift during 2010 and is now sitting on the desks of a literary agent and a production company (with recommendation letter attached), hopefully with representation and a commission on the horizon.

There were, needless to say, other moments of stress as well, most of them in relation to the aforementioned novel. A chance meeting with another agent brought about a frenetic flurry of a rewrite during the summer. But, if I do say so myself, the book is much better for having gone through it. (Even if the agent wasn't keen and ultimately said 'No Thanks').
I'm confident that it was worthy of the Poolbeg 'Write A Bestseller' competition in which it was entered last week. Which leads me on to the other subject of high stress....that damn synopsis. Two weeks to write one page! One word of advice, people...write the synopsis before you write the book!

So 2010 might be summed up as the 'no-more-messin-around' year. 2011...the 'Rich-and-Famous' year, perhaps? Actually, I'll just settle for 'Rich'...

Nothing wrong with a bit of healthy (Writing) Competition... (Part 2).

As I'm sure you're well aware, the deadline for the Poolbeg / TV3 'Write A Bestseller' competition was last Friday...

And 'Burning Matches' is in!

Yes indeed, the 'masterpiece' was handed in on Thursday after a 10-day nightmare of trying to perfect....the synopsis. Yes indeed, having written and rewritten 460-ish pages of the novel over the last two years or so, I haven't had so much heartache as I had trying to write a 'simple' one-page synopsis. To say I finally nailed it...would be a slight exageration - still not happy with it but, suffice to say, it is definitely better than it was a week and half ago.

Anyway, look, it's done and more importantly, is sitting, with the novel, on the desk of the fabulous, gifted and sexy decision-maker at Poolbeg Publishing (who might be reading this) ...with the 200 or so other novels that I'm reliably informed have also entered. I guess it'll make all the sweeter when I win...

By the way, huuuuge thanks to Margaret, Hugh and Ger for all their help with the previously mentioned synopsis...cheers guys.

Tweet!

Yes, it's true, I'm tweeting. So between Facebook, the website, the blog and now Twitter, I pretty much don't need to speak to a living soul ever again. I'm going to become one of those really annoying people who, when asked any question, gives the same answer.
'Hi Paul, how are you?' 'How am I? Haven't you seen my tweet?'