Out and about

This year more than ever I’ll be dashing from one bit of the country to another, popping up in a series of writing courses and events.  To help you (and me!) keep track of it all, I’ve added a new ‘out and about’ section to the Finding Tess page on my website.

Here I’ll be keeping a regularly-updated list of where I’m turning up next, including dates, venues and times.  So far the list includes the Crime & Publishment crime writing course at Gretna Green in February, as well as events in Carlisle and Newcastle.

Do keep an eye on the list and see if I’ll be appearing anywhere near you.  If so, I do hope you’ll call in, say ‘hi’ and have a chat.  It’s always lovely to put faces to the names that crop up online – and hopefully my ugly mug won’t scare you all away!

Here, there and everywhere

You know how you get weeks sometimes when everything is insanely busy, and you’re juggling diary dates like oranges and plates?  Well, this is one of those weeks.

Last Friday I set off on the complex and fiddly train journey to Gretna Green for a ‘Crime & Publishment’ get together.  Although it’s not all that far, it involves three separate trains, awkward connections, a 20-minute (uphill) walk, and a lift at the other end.  The logistics are… challenging, but I got there in one piece in spite of late-running Virgin trains and thoroughly enjoyed the evening.  There’s a core group of us who live close enough to get back every couple of months or so, plus others who come when they can.  We chat about writing, publishing, our various achievements, and how best to bury all those dead bodies, with the result that we often spook the wedding guests sat next to us in the bar or restaurant!  Throw in a great ‘pub grub’ meal and a few drinks in the bar afterwards and you have all the makings of a fun night out.

Then yesterday I hurtled into Kendal to meet another friend, a journalist/photographer/designer who was in town for the annual Comic Art Festival.  We set the world to rights over a coffee at the Brewery Arts Centre café and swapped notes on publishing, literary festivals, book design, and goodness knows what else.

And this weekend I’m heading off in completely the opposite direction, to Southampton, for a one-day event entitled ‘CSI: Southampton’ which involves crime writers and forensic experts comparing their approach to the subject.  It sounds absolutely fascinating and I’ll post a report next week once I’ve got my breath back.

Anyone who ever thought being a writer involved sitting at a desk and typing all day every day might want to think again!

And another…

Back from a week’s holiday by the sea to find some great news – Out of the Gutter Online have accepted a flash ficlet called ‘The Drop’, based on a piece I wrote for an exercise at this year’s Crime and Publishment event.  The story revolves around a pervert and a dropped mobile phone… and as usual all is not as it first seems.

Watch out for further updates on when the story will be appearing in the Gutter.

Right, where did I pack that sun lotion…?  (I’m joking.  This was the English seaside.  But still a lovely week.)

Still alive!

Sorry I’ve been so quiet on here the last week or so – there are two main reasons for this.  One, as I mentioned I went off to Scotland for my second annual Crime & Publishment weekend writing course, which actually spilled over into four days by the time I’d travelled there and back.

As with last year, it was a blast.  Same great people, same friendly atmosphere, same really informative speakers (particular thanks this year to retired Detective Superintendent Bob Bridgestock, who has made me rewrite half my current work – but for all the right reasons!), same enthusiasm and sheer inspiration.  I’m already counting the pennies ready to go again next year.

The other reason I’ve been so quiet is that I’ve been writing.  The first draft of my current project, a novella called ‘Raise the Blade’, was nearing completion before I went away, and once I’d got my feet back under the desk I wanted to get it finished.  And… the good news is that I have – all 28,000 words of it.  It’s now sitting in a file on a corner of my desk, vegetating, while I get my brain back in gear before starting the long hard editing process.  As usual it’ll need a lot of polishing, but it’s still a nice warm fuzzy feeling to have finished such a (for me) large scale project.

More news on stories in various anthologies coming soon – do watch this space!

Fun with dialogue

As I mentioned yesterday, the Dicing with Dialogue session was probably my favourite of the whole weekend (although in the face of some strong opposition). One of the fun things we had to do was pick a topic from a list and write our own dialogue-based scene leading on from it. Tutor Michael Malone gave us the choice of four scenarios, or a whole sheet of hilarious examples from websites like overheard.com, featuring various gaffes and foot-in-mouth moments from around the world. I chose one of the latter, which just seemed like a gift:

Overheard, Primark in Hammersmith this evening, young woman on mobile phone, in a serious and mildly irritated tone: “So who are you gonna pimp me to?”

And here’s my take on that, in pretty much the state it was when I read it out:

Chrissie tapped one magenta fingernail against the clothes rail. So much for her afternoon of retail therapy, even if it was just Primark. “So, who are you gonna pimp me to?”

Morgan sounded muffled, as though he had his phone crammed between shoulder and chin. Probably perming some old dear’s hair even as he spoke. “Look, it’s just for one night, babe. You just go in and…”

“Yeah, but he could be a fucking axe murderer for all I know. What did Steve say about him again?”

“Just that he’s okay. It’s a business thing, babe, that’s all. Just one night. It’ll be fine.”

“Do I at least get to know his fucking name?”

“Steve said something like Darren. Or do I mean Darius?”

“You mean you don’t even know?” She blew her gum out and popped it with her tongue. “Well, screw that. I am not fucking around with some complete stranger if I don’t even know his name.”

“Hang on.” Faint scrabbling noises echoed down the phone. “I had a Post-It note… Where’s that gone? Ah. Got it. It’s Dario. Dario Carrera. And he’s rich, babe. Owns a football club in San Marino, Steve said.”

She moved her gum to the other cheek. “Like I care about fucking football. I’ll do it, Morgan, but this is the last time. You can get someone besides your sister to do your dirty work next time.”

Brilliant weekend

This weekend was the Crime and Publishment writing course at The Mill Forge hotel in Gretna Green – and as previously mentioned, I went.

It was exhausting, nerve-wracking, occasionally terrifying, and, er, did I mention exhausting; but it was also tremendous fun and very rewarding. The hotel was comfortable (and spotlessly clean) and the owner, Graham Smith, had organised everything down to the last dot and cross so it all ran really smoothly. The other people on the course were amazingly friendly and very, very passionate about their craft – in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met such an enthusiastic bunch of writers before. There were about twenty of us all told, with the majority attending the whole weekend and one or two slipping in and out each day, and many of us are already talking about meeting up again in the months ahead.

The talks were excellent. All four main sessions were run by people with tons of relevant experience – three published authors (Zoe Sharp, Chris Ewan and Michael Malone) and one publisher (Darren Laws from Caffeine Nights Publishing). All four really knew their stuff and were able to make their particular subjects both informative, and great fun. My own favourite was the Dicing With Dialogue session with Michael Malone, partly because I love writing dialogue anyway and partly because the examples used to illustrate it were hilarious. Check out overheard.com sometime – I can guarantee you’ll spill your coffee.

On the Sunday morning we all had the opportunity to pitch our work to Darren, and in my case I’m delighted to report that he went off with my submission package tucked under one arm, and even promised to read it. He may not like it, of course, but it still had me dancing on about three feet of air.

Most of all the sheer fun, chat and togetherness was what made the weekend. Nobody was left sitting in a corner (not even me). We all seemed to have similar interests, at least in writing terms, and spent many a happy hour over breakfast or dinner discussing the voices in our heads, the best way to reach a man’s heart (past the third rib? or the fifth? I forget…) and the disposal of the odd body, without anyone thinking us strange.

The only fly in the ointment was the travel. Gretna is a little isolated and the only way for me to get there was by train. Although I’m relatively local (the far north of England, by definition, is quite close to Scotland) the journey was a nightmare with late trains, missed connections, and a wild taxi ride across the border which cost a whopping £30. Mercifully, on the way back Zoe Sharp offered me a lift, and the two of us buzzed happily back down the motorway, crammed with all our luggage, books, paperwork, coats, scarves, and a teddy in a bag (mine) into a very small sports car. It made for a lively (if squashed) end to a brilliant weekend.

There’s already talk of next year’s event and I’m seriously considering putting my name down for it. And eternally grateful to both Graham Smith, and the wonders of Facebook, for finding out about it in the first place.