Catharine Withenay

Author

writing

Writing

Ultracrepidarian

Someone who holds forth on a subject they know absolutely nothing about.

I have neglected the blog for too long. A small part of me wants to promise you consistent posting from now on: a regular post on something important and pertinent to the writing life. The larger part of me knows that I would fail, so dare not start. But – and please forgive me this writing pun – maybe this is the beginning of a new chapter.

When it comes to writing I often feel like I am ultracrepidarian. Most people can write; most of them can write sentences, paragraphs, even stories or essays that make coherent sense. So what makes a writer a writer?

I have come to the conclusion that it is ‘bum on seat’. A writer is a writer because they write. And the only way to write is to sit down and do it. Application to the craft is key to success. So much of the writing advice is that it is all very well to have a brilliant story idea, but until it is set down on paper (or tapped onto the computer) it is merely a thought or dream.

Another reason people don’t actually write their stories is their fear of getting it wrong. Writing is like elite sport: you only get any good by practise. The more you do, the more you learn, the better you become. At least, that is my theory. Some of us may never win Olympic Gold (Man Booker Prize) but that doesn’t mean we can’t make it onto the local football team (craft an excellent story – and have fun!)

Writing begets writing. It is addictive, seeping into you such that you can’t let it go. One story leads to another; one character draws you in to knowing a family more. As a plot develops, things happen: branches from the main tree trunk that you wish to follow and explore. Some break off, forming stories of their own; others become grafted on, intertwined with the original storyline.

Like any profession, writing requires dedication and commitment. For me, that is setting time aside when what I do is write, whatever the family is doing, or whatever the children need from me. To move forward, it has to be treated as a career in much the same way as my (paid) employment is. Sometimes that will involve blog posts.

Ultracrepidarian? Never! Now, back to the grindstone…

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General

Full circles

It has been too long since I have written on the blog – my apologies. Withenay’s Wordless Wednesday has taken on a life of its own but Irealise now that the last time I posted any written words was back in July, as the election was approaching in Zambia and as the shock of the Brexit vote in the UK was still fresh.

And today, Donald Trump will be inaugurated as the 45th President of the United States of America. How the world has changed. I cannot deny that on some levels it terrifies me, as people seem to be voting in a most insular way. In the US, this is seen in Trumps advocacy to ban Muslims from entering the country, building a wall on the Mexican border and imposing high import duties on goods made outside the US. In the UK, the anti-immigration rhetoric of the Brexiteers is unabated, as is their clamour for ‘our laws’ and ‘our government’, while not being prepared to put the referendum before parliament. There is a swing in both countries towards the far right and that is a deep concern. I will fight that whenever I can.

Of course, six months of non-communication is not just down to world events, however seismic they may have been. Home life has carried on with ups and downs, some of which I can relate but many not so. My daughter’s health and well-being has been a particular challenge. She has a statement and learning difficulties (problem 1) and added to that some development issues (problem 2); and new to the list since I last wrote is orthodontic issues (problem 3: the adult tooth is growing the wrong way, so will need to be removed and braces required to fill the gap) and – most excitingly – in the past week we’ve discovered that she has an arrhythmia of the heart (problem 4: bigeminy). Never rains but pours.

The rest of the family are fit and healthy, thank goodness. Their stresses arise from work (too much of it, too many hours, too little actually achieved) and exams (mocks, and then the first exams that actually have an import in life – GCSEs – in the summer).

My job is juggling them all… and hopefully squeezing in a little time for my own work.

Which leads me on to writing. (I’m skipping over paid-employment: that’s also been stressful in the last six months, but once January deadlines are over I’m optimistic of some improvement!) Writing. I feel this has a school report style of summary: should do more. I have excuses (please see above…) but it has rather crawled to a halt. My New Year resolution (‘write more’) also crashed when the heart problems arose last week.

But I am determined to be positive, and I am determined to turn the corner and move on. Even before the issues with my daughter last week, I had written nearly 3000 words towards my novel. This is, of course, nothing compared to the 100,000 target, but it is a step in the right direction. One day my novel will be written, and then all my blog posts will be about the endless tedium of editing it! (I’m resisting doing that as I go along, but undoubtedly it needs a lot of first aid!)

And I am delighted with the ongoing success of my Zambian books. It is such a privilege to be able to chat with some of you about them, about the times my family shared out there. This week a postcard arrived from my father-in-law, which he had posted last July when visiting my sister-in-law. He wrote it from the banks of the Zambezi river, enjoying the tranquility of a flowing river, beautiful sunshine and being surrounded by wildlife.

It ended with the question: When are you moving back here?

When indeed.

So, a postcard written last July; and the last written blog post about the same time. From Brexit to Trump. Life is full of circles.

Beware the Falling Avocados, Writing

I am a writer

I am ready for a rest at the end of a rather hectic week. The book launch was one thing; a charity I’m treasurer for had an important meeting about funding, the children made big decisions which involved me-as-mum making difficult phonecalls, (paid) work was normal but included an evening seminar and the nation (UK) has had a referendum on staying in Europe. All of great importance in different ways.

But today I realised that I am a writer. (Just putting that in words makes me feel like I’m coming out at Writers’ Whinge, or whatever our equivalent of Alcoholics Anonymous is). Obviously, I kind of knew that before: spending years writing, preparing and publishing In the Shade of the Mulberry Tree, and then repeating the process for Beware the Falling Avocados, does imply that I am a writer. My suspicion is that a proper writer would take less time and be more efficient and procrastinate less (yes, I really want to put the washing out/ walk the dog/ meet friends for coffee/ complete my tax return/ check twitter and Facebook…).

I spend time thinking and time writing and time editing. I spend time publishing and publicising. I promote my books as much as possible and purposefully push myself to the edge in order to get them known, against my better nature. Writing is what I do in between all the other stuff (see previous procrastination and hectic week paragraphs!)

This is why I know I’m a writer: today I concentrated on the next book. I have the outline of a novel which – with a bit of luck and a fair wind – will set sail into the publishing sea at some point in the future. Probably a long way off; possibly never, as I gather most authors leave their first novel in a bottom drawer… and their second and third… and only get published after many trials and errors. Not only did I work on the book I loved it! I spent three hours in the library sorting through paperwork and drawing a diagram of the plot structure. There are still some weaknesses to iron out, and a lot of questions to answer, but as a basic outline I feel quite confident. (Until I look at it afresh tomorrow, no doubt…)

I have no title for this venture. I feel I should give it a pet name, like ‘Bert’ or ‘Edith’ or  ‘Fair weather friend’, but am likely to stick to ‘Novel 1’ for the time being. Perhaps a title will spring to mind as I actually put pen to paper/ tap away at the keyboard… That is the next job: harnessing the discipline to sit down and write.  Not just when I feel like it, but regularly, so that the words accumulate, the characters come to life and the story takes a form of its own. I can’t wait to begin this exciting adventure!

In the meantime, I’m praying for peace for my country and the world. Who knows what the next 24 hours (let alone the eternity of ‘future’) will bring. The UK has already been rocked by the murder of Jo Cox MP and has been split by so much venom on both sides of the EU argument. I hold to Jo’s words: More In Common.

Make tea, not war.

Writing pics - 3 of 3

(Obviously, particularly read Beware the Falling Avocados, available on line as a paperback here and for kindle here. Just can’t keep that marketing and publicity department down!)

General

Tomorrow I attempt the impossible

dfw-cw-btfa-cover-thumbI found one of the most difficult parts of writing and publishing a book (and there are many!) was creating the information ‘about the author’. For some, this must just roll off their tongue – or pen – but for the less-assuming authors, and those without a huge pedigree of writing and back catalogue, it is tricky. Why on earth would you be interested in me?

Inside the book I wrote some basic details about my life history (where I was brought up and lived; my official career and my family status) and on the back cover I wrote a slightly more tongue-in-cheek summary. Thinking that people might be more inclined to buy the book if they know a little about me, I wrote:

In her spare time she enjoys playing the cello, watching cricket, preaching and winning at board games, but not all at once.

This is true. I also do lots of other things. I am mum taxi. I am knitting a cardigan (but have been for two years and still haven’t finished the back). I play the piano (better than the cello). I enjoy baking and have spent this week making choc chip cookies and tiffin for tomorrow. (And soup – but I’m not sure if that classes as baking.) I love reading and books (in case you hadn’t guessed). I like The Big Bang Theory and have loved watching Friends again recently – and for the umpteenth time – with my son.

But I limited myself to one sentence and four activities. Tomorrow, I could attempt all four, though I am saved the cricket as Yorkshire aren’t playing. Instead I am attempting to juggle orchestra practice, a day’s teaching on prayer (not strictly preaching, but would help nevertheless!) and a marathon eight hours of board gaming for International Table Top Day. This is juggling where balls will fall, I’m afraid.

But thankfully, given my excessive number of extra-curricular activities, even when that happens, I will be able to munch my way through 48 choc chip cookies .

Every cloud… as they say…