friends

One of the hardest tasks with writing a book is coming up with a title. The title sticks with the book through thick and thin. It is the first draw for any potential reader. It defines the essence of the book: it’s story, it’s location, it’s timbre.

A title sets the scene; the writing tells the story.

Book 2 has gone through a few iterations. Originally it was The One with the Brain Event, and I’d labelled all the chapter headings The one with… just like in the TV series Friends. Then my very wise husband pointed out that Friends is over now, and perhaps no-one will get the connection (can you believe the programme finished 10 years ago?). And perhaps they’d laid some sort of rights to the phrase The one with… as a title starter.

So that was scrapped.

And, in fairness, for a couple of years it probably lay there labelled as Book 2. I shall be sorry to lose that, as I have quite enjoyed the title. If nothing else, it emphasised to me that I had completed Book 1!

But I wanted something that followed on well from In the Shade of the Mulberry Tree but also reflected Africa. As a sequel ‘More tales from the Mulberry Tree’ might have worked. Instead I concentrated on the tree theme and thought through all the trees I had come across while living in Zambia. This was made a little easier as the houses at my children’s school were all named after trees, but in the end I decided they weren’t appropriate.

What finally tipped the title into being was rediscovering a poem my father had written for his grandchildren. It is by no means his best poetry, but it is fun and light-hearted: perfect for a 5- and 3-year-old, as they were then. He, in turn, took his title from a sign that was nailed to a tree at a cafe we frequented in Lusaka.

Beware the falling avocados

What do you think? All I have to do now is finish writing and editing the book!

Yes, I went. To York. To the Festival.

To learn. To network. To communicate.

I should throw in a disclaimer: I grew up near York. My grandparents lived across the road from the university. My uncle was a lecturer there. I spent many happy hours playing in the grounds of the university. Going to York is like going home.

My biggest disappointment of the weekend? I couldn’t find the stepping stones that I remember from childhood.

My biggest surprise of the weekend? Meeting up with the boy who was Head Boy of my year at school. Didn’t expect to bump into him!

My biggest enjoyment of the weekend? Catching up with lifelong friends who still live in the area, and visiting my mother’s grave.

So, my review of the Festival Weekend is tainted by my social life, as the three most significant items that occurred were nothing to do with writing or the festival, but everything to do with nostalgia.

But back to the writing part. It was great to meet up with so many writers. Everyone was keen to talk about their writing and to share what they had learned. The opportunity to talk with agents, publishers and book doctors was invaluable. Many of the people I spoke to over meals had been asked for full manuscripts. How fantastic! New, exciting writing is being sought. I hope that some of them get publishing contracts – after all, I’d love to say I’d known them when…

For me, the book doctor experience was the best. She was enthusiastic about my writing and gave me great ideas as to how to progress not just the first chapter (which was all she saw) but also the shape of the book. I have spent the past week trying to put it into practice. It’s not as easy as it sounds!

Over the two days I was there I attended six workshops. Most of these were good, though not necessarily relevant to me. It is always hard to tell what a talk will be like from a short blurb on the website beforehand. If they are anything like me they leave the blurb as open as possible so that the final session can still fit in even if the subject matter changes as time grows closer. Mostly I came away with a list of books to read… and buy… which should help with the art of writing.

What I didn’t come away with was an extra three days in every week in which to read those books and spend time writing. Perhaps that’s something the organisers can consider for next year?

What’s in a name?

Festival of Writing