Happy Pride Month! This June, I’d like to acknowledge and celebrate a book written by one of my favorite YA authors, Alice Oseman. Loveless is the story of Georgia, a relatable college student who is obsessed with the idea of romance and an avid fan of fictional relationships, yet she has never had a crush. She begins school seeking her own love story, only to discover that she may be aromantic and asexual, and that much love is present in her life in unexpected forms. It’s the first aro/ace coming out story I’ve read, and one of the first published. It’s also the well-deserved winner of the YA Book Prize.
I was anticipating this book before it came out (pun intended as it’s a coming out story. I know, I’m so funny. :P). I don’t identify as ace or aro. However, learning about asexuality was important for me as a way of recognizing and acknowledging instances where my culture expected attraction or interest and there was simply nothing there. Who and what we desire and say “yes” to is important knowledge about ourselves. The knowledge of our “nos” is equally important.
Last year for pride month, I wrote and shared with the Attic Owl Reading Series a poem about recognizing our “nos” in anticipation of Loveless’s publication. I’m delighted to say that the book surpassed my expectations. It’s a celebration of different forms of relationships, with characters that feel alive. It’s got great jokes, a Shakespeare society, and pool noodle fights. Check it out if you have the chance!
Thank you, Alice Oseman, for sharing this honest and affecting story with the world.
I’m delighted to announce the publication of my novelette “The Cliffman” in Hard for Hope to Flourish, a Midnight Bites collection of three chilling novellas from Crone Girls Press. The e-book comes out on March 11 and you can pre-order it now. If you like dark fairy tales, supernatural beings, and complicated sibling relationships, “The Cliffman” has got you covered. The other two stories involve a man hearing voices and a disappearance in a marsh. “Literary tales of quiet horror,” as the blurb says.
Below is an excerpt from “The Cliffman.” Enjoy!
The Cliffman
He stood as children raced across the lap of the sand, as half-grown feet tore up marram grass which tore them in turn, as dusk gave way to moon and brambles on the periphery to raspberries, wax-leaved tufts to cranberries. He stood as tourists in visors shed tears over sand-spilled ice cream, as lovers tussled in cliff-caves or took to their vans, as the ozone layer thinned almost imperceptibly, as crabs tracked. It wasn’t often he could do anything but see.
* * *
See: two girl-slivers, wind-haired, seated on driftwood. A mother grown as a full moon, instructing: this thick viscous seaweed is kelp, this edible kind dulse. Tides are caused by the moon, and erosion happens as rocks wear away under sea. These are cliff swallows and this, running in the sand with its funny stilt legs, the rare endangered piping plover.
The mother was a teacher during the school year, and every summer day she taught her own girls. The father wavered between office days and sofa chair nights, never quite there, which made the older girl feel smaller. His driftwood books cluttered the table—covers with complicated spaceships, pearly moon-cities, knights in tall helmets.
* * *
“It would be nice if you’d interact with your own children,” the mother said.
“And what type of interaction do you expect? Everything has to be a lesson with you.”
“At least I spend time with them.”
Dishes clattered in the sink. The girls said nothing.
Here on the map was North America where they lived, here Africa, Australia, and this big lump on the bottom Antarctica, too cold for people. Here the first page of a bedtime story—sound it out.
A half page in, their mother fixed things: “Night, not kuh-night. The k is silent.” The younger sister squirmed away from her storybook. The older, unnoticed, shrank into the pillow.
Add up the change in the change jar. Take these toys and divide them between mother and sisters (not father who was never in the games even when home from work, and that was expected, accepted). The older sister loved these number games best, and took to playing store with the younger and counting out change. Numbers were regular, soothing as the tides. She took to counting by twos or fives or humming multiplication tables to carry her to sleep.
The younger sister collected feathers which she kept in a jar in her room, arranging them until they were almost perfect. She was a talker, so she made friends with most kids she ran into. Sometimes she made enemies, which was interesting, too, because she and her allies would make war against them with sticky beached jellyfish and handfuls of wet sand.
The older sister wondered how it could be so easy for the younger to just walk up and join the rush and noise. The kids bickered like her parents, their games as fleeting as the family’s yearly moves from house to summer cottage to house, trailing clumsy suitcases. When they asked her to make war, she ran into a cliff cave and watched crumbs of sandstone crumble from the top. She was happiest on her own, listening to seashells and looking carefully for patterns in the rock, cradling the notebook in which she kept track of inventory for her Someday Store. The tourists who flocked to the beach would buy everything.
On the day the two sisters were walking hand in hand and a voice boomed at them from out of the cliff, naturally it was the younger who answered.
“You think you know everything about this beach, don’t you?” That was the voice, presumably some man they couldn’t see. Full-throated. Presumptuous. Unremarkable enough.
The younger sister was indignant. “Of course we don’t! But I think we know a lot.”
The voice responded with a rumble that could have been a menace or a laugh. The older sister thought she felt the sand quaver beneath her feet. Being the more practical of the pair, she asked, in spite of her uneasiness: “Who are you anyway, and where are you?”
“Look above you,” the voice said.
The girls’ small heads poked up. There atop the rocks a figure stood. His skin was the red of island sandstone, and it was hard to tell if the earth-colored folds around him were clothing or some draping extension of his body. His face was rough, like the mock faces one sometimes finds worn into rocks, and he stood larger than a human man by half. He was still, dignified in the manner of stone and ocean. The sisters found him half-formed, masklike, hideous. How to speak to a person that was not a person but a walking mass of clay?
How are you all doing? Here in London, we’re well into lockdown #3. Remember lockdown hobbies, and the optimism with which some people took up making homemade sourdough bread and learning new languages? If you’re like me, enthusiasm for indoor activities has waned a bit by now.
Writing is one of the things keeping me going as I work from home, socialize (as much as it’s possible to do so) from home, and veg out… all in the same general vicinity. As much as it can be a source of vitality and energy, though, it can also be hard to do consistently during this time. And people wanting to try writing for the first time while their lives have moved indoors face the additional challenge of getting started.
Here are a few things that have energized my writing at one point or another during the quarantimes.
Write socially
When working on my first book, I went to Shut Up and Write sessions where a group of writers gathered, chatted briefly, and then got down to the process of quietly writing. Sessions were timed, and with other people doing the same thing around me, I got a lot of work done. I’ve benefited from finding similar group writing sessions over Zoom where friendly people encouraged each other, shared resources and updates, and provided accountability.
Try something new
Last year (during lockdown 2), I did NaNoWriMo for the first time. I tried writing something in a new genre (romance) and format (novella). During lockdown 1, I read about short nonfiction writing, tried pitching a big publication, and ended up writing something for the Huffington Post. Setting challenges for myself and trying new things kept the writing process fresh and interesting.
Find a critique partner
Having someone else to exchange writing with keeps your manuscript from languishing forever unseen in your files. I found a fiction critique partner through social media and have been swapping work with her ever since. Having someone intelligent and responsive to exchange feedback with has been helpful and encouraging, and means I’m writing more.
Take advantage of your personal schedule
If you’re working from home now, like me, you might have gained time back from your daily commute. Try scheduling writing in that now-freed calendar space. Another way of taking advantage of your schedule is knowing your body’s clock. I’ve been reading about chronotypes, or the variations in people’s biological clocks, and recognizing why I’ve never been one of those people who got up and wrote early in the morning. I don’t have to be! We all have different times when we’re at our creative and productive peaks, and maybe learning about yours will help you get more writing done, too.
Write about what you’re experiencing
During the pandemic, I’ve helped process the stress of a radically changing life and environment by journaling (i.e. inelegantly venting about everything) and writing poems about the virus, Zoom calls, and shifting restrictions. It’s been a wonderful outlet.
…Or not
Sometimes I just want to escape the 2020s. I’ve found solace in writing fiction set in a pre-COVID world and in other, imagined worlds. Do you wish you were somewhere else? Writing can take you there!
Have you been putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard in lockdown? What keeps you writing?
My January blog posts attest to my fascination with New Year’s resolutions, the goals and intentions that some of us set each year in the hope of making the coming year (or ourselves) better. After the coronavirus pandemic dashed many of our plans for 2020, I wonder how many of us will make resolutions this year. Maybe some of us will focus on taking care of ourselves and each other during this difficult time, or on just being ourselves. But for those who share my perverse fascination with goal setting and change, I found a book this year that offered me some valuable perspective.
I first encountered Gretchen Rubin’s Four Tendencies framework years ago, took her quiz online, and promptly forgot about it. Then, during England’s second lockdown this year, a mention of the book prompted me to look it up again. I was struggling with some changes I wanted to make in my new, working-from-home life, but I wasn’t making them. I didn’t know how. I asked myself, not for the first time, “Why can’t I change? Why can’t I get myself to do the things I know I should do? Why do I let myself down?”
Enter Gretchen Rubin, who has written books on happiness and habit formation, and maintains a popular happiness-focused podcast. She created the Four Tendencies framework after observing differences in how people respond to expectations. One of her friends was able to run with a track team but not by herself, for example.
The Four Tendenciesbook posits two different types of expectations: inner expectations, or the goals and standards we have for ourselves, and outer expectations, or the things that other people and external systems expect us to do. Rubin found that people respond to these different expectations in four different, and predictable, ways.
The people she calls Upholders meet both inner and outer expectations. Questioners meet inner expectations and question outer expectations, choosing to do what others expect only when it makes sense to them. Obligers (like her friend who wanted to go running) meet outer expectations but not inner expectations, while Rebels resist both sets of expectations. There’s a lot more detail about how these four categories work in the book, as well as on Rubin’s website.
Rubin’s book offers thorough chapters about what each tendency means and how it works, along with chapters on dealing with each tendency. Like books on the Enneagram, the personality system I’ve been using for over a decade, it can be read as a self-help book, and/or used to understand how to work with other people. Medical personnel, for instance, have used her work to motivate people with different tendencies to follow their recommendations.
Helpfully, the book begins with a quiz for identifying your tendency. From there, if you’re an Upholder, you’ll discover ways to manage “tightening up” and learn how following rules can paradoxically bring freedom. If you’re a Questioner, you’ll find tips for overcoming analysis paralysis and finding reasons for doing those irrational things you need to do. If you’re an Obliger, you’ll learn about how outer accountability is key for you – and how to build it into different areas of your life to do the things that you want to do, rather than burning yourself out by doing what others want. And if you’re a Rebel, like me, you’ll learn about motivating yourself by following personal desires and identity, and how to cultivate a sense of freedom in meeting goals rather than obligation.
I love how the Four Tendencies is a practical and focused framework for change. The book offers strategies that work with our “autopilot settings,” and thus it might be called ego supportive. Yes, we can all be more mindful and present, but the book’s suggestions don’t require that. It meets us where we are and gives us how-to’s for accomplishing what we want to accomplish.
As useful as the Enneagram has been for me, it’s a descriptor, not a toolkit. It suggests that as someone whose personality follows the Type Four “Individualist” pattern, I benefit from bringing discipline and structure into my life, but it doesn’t give any nuts and bolts about how to create structure, or how to get myself to follow it. The Four Tendencies actually gave me some of those nuts and bolts.
When it comes to change management, different people have different needs. I’ve spent a lot of time hoping to find a perfect source of accountability to get me to act differently, so it’s a relief to learn that accountability isn’t an effective strategy for me – it just feels like pressure, which I then resist. I’m equally recalcitrant with myself, declaring that I’m going to do something while an internal voice intones “Yeah, yeah, I’m not gonna.” Since reading this book, I’ve focused on taking power back into my own hands. Rubin writes, “Rebels can do anything they want to do.” The key for me is to focus on wanting rather than having to. When a sense of determination drives me, I know that I’m going to get that thing done. When I hear “Oh, yeah, yeah, sure,” I either let myself off the hook or dig deeper until I find that sense of determination.
2020 brought a lot of events we had no control over, and 2021 is looking to unfold in much the same vein. If you’re looking for a book about making changes that are within your control, The Four Tendencies is a good one.
In 2019, I read a lot, partly thanks to gift cards that let me buy harder-to-access books I’d been wanting to read for years. I’d thought that in 2020 I’d spend less time reading and more time doing things. Then March happened.
The gist of it is, lockdown left me with a lot of reading time, and several authors generously offered their works for free. My TBR pile has only gotten longer. It’s been fascinating to get acquainted with authors I wasn’t familiar with and to read things I wouldn’t otherwise have accessed. Here are a few unexpected book finds of 2020. I hope you find them as comforting and fun as I did.
The Murmur of Bees by Sofía Segovia (trans. Simon Bruni): As COVID-19 made its presence known in Italy, I began a novel that turned out to chronicle the Spanish flu. A Mexican family takes in a disabled child who has a close relationship with a swarm of bees, and a compelling magical realist tale unfolds from there. The parallels between the pandemic I was reading about and the one whose impact I began to experience simultaneously were both unnerving and comforting.
Mr. Hotshot CEO by Jackie Lau: I’d heard good things about Jackie Lau’s Chinese-Canadian rom coms set in Toronto, and jumped at the chance to read one offered for free at the time. A young, workaholic CEO’s nosy family enforces a vacation, and he hires a woman he sees at a coffee shop to teach him how to enjoy himself. This is foodie fluff at its most enjoyable. I swear, you will want to eat (or bake) every meal and treat in the book. It also has excellent “own voices” depression representation.
The Perilous Life of Jade Yeo by Zen Cho: Zen Cho is an elegant writer, and her historical novella is still free, so read it if you can! In the 1920s, a Malaysian writer in London writes a scathing book review – and attracts the author’s attention. This slim read is packed with curiosity, romance, scandal, and a delightful epistolary voice.
Noodle Trails by Eileen Kay: A travel memoir about Thailand by a Scottish writer. Following a divorce, Eileen Kay retreats to Thailand, home of the suppliers of her now-faltering fair trade import business. This true story of a woman getting back on her feet in rough times is witty, joyful, and a lot of fun.
Three’s a Crowd and Other Family Stories by Kate Blackadder: Sweet and entertaining, these are traditional family stories with a twist. In this Scottish writer’s short fiction collection, you’ll meet funky grandparents, refurbished bikes, and Ceilidh bands. This was great for those days when I had a short attention span, as I could read one story at a time.
Winnie and Wilbur Stay at Home by Valerie Thomas and Korky Paul: A timely (at the time) free picture book, and part of a popular series about a witch and her cat. At first, neither are thrilled about having to self-isolate, but with a little magical help, they find things to do. At the end, there are links to resources, including yoga and recipes.
Shady Hollow by Juneau Black: Given the popularity of Animal Crossing, maybe you, like me, would be interested in reading a murder mystery set in a charming town of talking animals? Intrepid reporter Vera Vixen takes it upon herself to track down the murderer of the resident swamp toad. This cozy mystery is well executed and extremely fun.
What have you been reading for fun in 2020? Have your tastes changed? Have you read anything unexpected?
This month, I had a very short dragon story published in Contrary, one of my biggest literary bylines. I love dragon stories. I used to think they weren’t “serious literature,” and when I submitted for awards, I’d send pieces about death set in the “real world.” Meanwhile, I’d write secret stories about magical creatures and realms. I’ve since learned that this separation between “serious” writing and “fun” writing is artificial and counterproductive. Life is short! Write the things you love!
Just like we crave certain foods, readers can get cravings for specific types of books (and writers might crave writing them). Sometimes you just want to read about fake dating, an intrepid sleuth, or a magic sword. Cliches? Not necessarily! Storytelling thrives on tropes, and we all have favorites. Christopher contends that there are only seven basic story plots, with others citing three or six. Within variations of these stories, motifs repeat themselves. Popular motifs can become tropes.
Bad storytelling and stereotypical use of tropes can give them a bad name. Think of how many Disney villains have been given queer coding, with certain mannerisms being shorthand for characterizing them as as evil. And books in the same genre can sometimes draw on tropes to the point of predictability. But while some uses of tropes are actively harmful or simply tedious, tropes themselves are valuable storytelling tools.
It’s all in the execution. As a writer, you’re telling your story. You get to make the decisions about what tropes you use, how, and why. You can use favorite tropes as inspiration, the way Yoon Ha Lee did when writing Ninefox Gambit (“I’d been nosing about the TV Tropes website, specifically my favorite pages, Moral Event Horizon, Chessmaster, and Magnificent Bastard”). If you’ve run into writer’s block, you might try using tropes as prompts and mixing them up in unexpected ways, the way Jim Butcher did in the Codex Alera series, accepting a challenge to combine Pokemon and a lost Roman legion! If you really, really want to read a story about, say, found family and flying saucers, that might be a good reason to write one.
Here’s another important context where authors engage with tropes: when there’s a type of story that they love, but they don’t see people like themselves in stories like that. Recently publishers have been making strides towards diversifying their catalogues, with increasing attention being paid to “own voices” stories. To give two recent YA examples, you can now read a Black Cinderella story (Cinderella is Dead by Kaylynn Bayron) or a retelling of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice in a contemporary Latinx context (Never Look Back by Lilliam Rivera). Are there any tropes you feel compelled by but excluded from? Try writing yourself (or someone like you) in.
Tropes can comment on contemporary situations. I recently read Nevermoor, a popular middle-grade fantasy by Jessica Townsend, and found it rich in both tropes (the Gothic manor, the eccentric mentor) and uniqueness (the giant cat housekeeper, the umbrella-based public transit system). Most powerfully, the young main character, Morrigan, is brought from an unsafe country to a safe one, and pursued by police who call her “an illegal.” This pointed comment on immigration speaks to the fictional context while reflecting on real-life issues.
Who gets to fall in love? What makes a person exceptional? What skills solve a mystery? What does horror look like? Who gets to travel to another world, and why?
That’s my challenge to you this month, writers: Play with some tropes that intrigue you! Don’t be afraid to get weird and hyper specific. And if you like, let me know what emerges.
Last month, I had a personal essay published on Huffington Post. I wrote about the challenges of being petite and mistaken for someone much younger on a regular basis. It was a small essay, about being small. I never expected it to go so big.
As a mostly literary writer, I had a decent track record of acceptances scattered among my big pile of rejections. My bylines had appeared in poetry journals and niche online magazines. I hadn’t published in many known venues, and I hadn’t tried to. I was intimidated, believing I lacked connections, know-how, and good ideas. One of my goals while working from home during the COVID-19 pandemic, after my freelance work went quiet, was to pitch bigger venues and land something beyond my comfort zone.
I picked up a book called The Byline Bible recommended in a Facebook group. The author, Susan Shapiro, has a great track record of publication and teaches courses on publishing non-fiction (I’m talking pragmatic nuts-and-bolts, not the “find your voice” stuff of my creative writing degree). I found her tips on pitching stories to be valuable. The HuffPost editor was interested in my personal essay topic right after I sent it, and accepted my article after substantial edits to draw out the themes. The editorial team smoothed over my literary stylings, adding click-ready quotes and a sensational title: “I’m An Adult Who Is Constantly Mistaken for a 12-Year-Old. This Is What My Life Is Like.”
They should have called it “A Woman Publishes An Essay. You Won’t Believe What Happened Next!” My social media outlets and inboxes were flooded with messages. I thought a few people would like the post on Facebook and then I’d make dinner, but the likes and comments kept pouring in. For the first few days, I tried to reply to everything. Then I discovered a further bunch of messages hidden in my Spam folder and gave up.
Most of the messages were from people who related to the article: petite women, shorter men, skinny and baby-faced folks who are mistaken for being younger, and various people who experience body shaming, judgment, or being physically “othered” in some form. Some sought advice (my recommendations are to cultivate and focus on skills and things that matter to you; this won’t make physical judgments go away but it will give you something to live for and be proud of).
A few people mentioned that my article had made them reflect on the impact of their words, a message I was honored to hear. Older readers shared “epilogues”: for some, strangers’ perceptions had improved as they got older; for others, they emphatically had not. Many thanked me and noted that this was the first time they had seen their experiences and struggles reflected in print. “I’m not alone,” many voices chorused.
On the day after my essay was published, I got a message starting “I saw your article in The Sun…” What?! I googled it and found that not one, but two British tabloids had printed stories based on my essay. Both had scoured my public social media for photographs to add to their paraphrases and quotes from my piece. Each had its own angle, focusing on the “outlandish” story without articulating the point I made at the end of my essay (that I hope the pandemic might lead people to focus more on resilience and less on judging each other’s physicality).
My first reaction was to laugh. How could anyone consider this news? My editor later confirmed that tabloids sometimes pick up stories from Huffington Post, but generally just the highly trafficked ones. It was truly bizarre to see my old, unflattering photos on the internet. However, I was grateful to have chosen my public presence carefully. Nothing in the tabloid articles went beyond “slightly awkward.” When you control your own angles and tell your own story, there is only so much that others can find on you.
Over the last month, things have simmered back to normal for my daily life following these 15 minutes of internet fame. A few more eyes are following my earnest little writing posts, and I hope that something in there speaks to them too. Regardless of the tabloid weirdness, internet trolls, and few unkind messages (another lesson from all of this is that my skin is thicker than I realized), I’m grateful that my words resonated with so many. If you’ve found my blog post through my “looking 12” essay, welcome. Welcome, and thank you, to everyone who’s seen themselves in my little-big story. You’re not alone. You are so much less alone than you might think.
Black lives matter. This should be something obvious, not something that needs to be said. But recent news shows just how deeply racial tensions run, how embedded they are in our institutions, and how much harm they cause.
In the interest of supporting Black creators, I’ve put together a list of books by Black authors that I read and enjoyed recently. This is by no means a ranking, definitive guide, or anything like that. Instead, it’s an idiosyncratic list of well-crafted, fun, and moving (mostly genre) books which often share perspectives and insights that may be new to white readers. Hopefully you’ll find something in there that you’ll enjoy reading from cover to cover!
YA and Middle Grade
Akata Witch / Akata Warrior by Nnedi Okorafor: This series has been called “the Nigerian Harry Potter”, and it delivers on magic and worldbuilding. 12-year-old Sunny, who’s albino and was born in the US, is treated as an outsider once her family returns to Nigeria. Then new friendships reveal her hidden magic and a whole new society of Leopard people. Expect adventure and an astonishing world, grounded in Nigerian myths and realities, that you will wish you could visit.
The Belles by Dhonielle Clayton: In a world where citizens are born grey, a select group of women has the power to magically alter people’s appearances, allowing them to conform to the latest fashions and be “beautiful”. Camilla is one of these young women, and she discovers that her world’s beauty culture has sinister roots. Expect beautiful prose and a thought-provoking contemplation of beauty standards.
The Poet X by Elizabeth Acevedo: Afro-Latina teen Xiaomara finds her voice as a slam poet in this moving novel told in verse. There are a lot of truths here about fraught family dynamics, first love, and more, and they are expressed with raw beauty. Get the tissues ready!
Fantasy and Science Fiction
A Taste of Honey by Kai Ashante Wilson: A gay fantasy romance that uses dialect in deft and unique ways. When Aqib’s country is visited by foreign soldiers, he meets Lucrio and encounters the ideas of a nation where same-sex relationships are accepted. A choice unfolds: does he stay with his familiar settings and beloved zookeeping responsibility, or does he leave with Lucrio into the unknown? This novella beautifully explores two parallel lives.
The Murders of Molly Southbourne by Tade Thompson: A gripping science fiction horror novella. Every time Molly bleeds, a copy of herself emerges, intent on killing her. She is taught to murder them in turn. It’s a strange, eerie book about threat and escape that I couldn’t put down.
Binti by Nnedi Okorafor: Mathematically gifted Binti is the first Himba person to be accepted to a university off-planet, but her space travel is disrupted by the alien Meduse, who the university has wronged. This is a highly inventive novella about building bridges between warring groups of people (including extraterrestrial people in this case).
Romance
A Princess in Theory / A Prince on Paper by Alyssa Cole: The Reluctant Royals series is beloved for good reason: it takes a critical eye to the tropes of royal romance while revelling in their best parts. In A Princess in Theory, an epidemiologist gets spam emails from an African prince she is betrothed to, only to discover that they’re real. A Prince on Paper is my favorite in the series, featuring a sensitive playboy hero and a heroine who is deeply kind. There are further books in the series, too, on my TBR list.
Let It Shine by Alyssa Cole: Two childhood friends, a Black “good girl” and a Jewish boxer, reunite and fight for civil rights in this sweet, impactful novella. The Civil Rights movement in the 1960s takes center stage as the main character finds her voice.
Fit by Rebekah Weatherspoon: Another short romance, for those who like their reads on the spicy side. A TV producer seeks out a personal trainer, who proposes an unconventional arrangement for getting her fit.
Nonfiction
Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body by Roxane Gay: This memoir does not present a triumphant narrative arc but rather a messy, complicated reckoning. Gay writes with honesty and sensitivity about the trauma of early sexual assault, her compulsion to eat in order to be safe, what it’s like to move through the world in a very large, “unruly” body, and learning to take care of her physical self. I found it moving while giving me a lot to consider and grapple with.
For two years, I’ve wanted to go to London Book Fair. This year I was finally going to get there, accompanying colleagues to look after ICE Publishing’s stand, network, and learn. Then, as you can probably guess, the fair was cancelled due to the coronavirus. The sound reason did not dim my disappointment. Despite the cancellation, though, I got one good thing out of the London Book Fair: acquaintance with the Bestseller Experiment.
When reading through the list of Insights Seminars planned for the fair, I saw that there was a live episode planned for the Bestseller Experiment podcast. The name intrigued me. A bestseller is a big promise. What could a “bestseller experiment” be and how did it work? I looked the podcast up and discovered it was created by two British men, both named Mark, who sought to write, edit, publish, and market a bestselling book in a year. What an awesomely audacious goal! I began listening, and soon I was hooked.
The pair of podcasters make appealing foils for each other. Mark Stay is a seasoned writer, with a novel and movie to his name, and a veteran employee of the traditional publishing industry. With the benefits and cynicism of experience, he acts as the podcast’s pessimist, skeptical of the likelihood of success but game to go forward. Mark Desvaux, a Canada-based life coach who’d started books prior to the podcast but hadn’t finished them, is the pair’s optimist, bringing enthusiastic belief in their success and a sense of spirituality to offset his co-host’s national outlook. It’s fun to listen to the two Marks bouncing off each other. What really makes the podcast shine, though, is the caliber of its interviews.
From the get-go, Mark and Mark interview industry professionals and bestselling authors of both traditional and indie titles. They set out to find the “secret sauce” that makes a book or an author into a bestseller, speaking to the likes of Bryan Cranston, Joanne Harris, Joe Abercrombie, Michelle Paver, Shannon Mayer, and professionals from NaNoWriMo, Kindle Direct Publishing, authors, agents, editors, and more. All the interviewees speak lucidly and eloquently about their craft and share a wealth of knowledge about the industry. Their writing journeys differ, from those who have worked in obscurity for years before having a sales or publishing “breakthrough” to early success stories, from those who hate revision to those who love it, but all share a belief in writing success because they have all experienced it. Every episode I’ve listened to so far has been worth the time, and all have left me with a feeling of hope.
What bestselling secrets has the podcast shared? So far, the interviewed authors share a belief in taking yourself seriously as a writer (most of them write every day and set themselves word counts), having deadlines (I share their experience of writing faster when somebody gives me a due date), and writing about topics that matter to you. Again and again, the authors reiterate that you can’t write a bestseller cynically, and that good books come out of love of the subject you’re writing about. Many of them recommend go-to books on the craft of writing, and some share marketing tips. Editors and agents encourage writers not to worry about trends and to write what they’re interested in. The need for self-care when writing is also explored.
The Marks also share the stages of their journey in writing a book. In one of my favorite episodes, Ben Aaronovitch tells them off for writing a 50,000-word “outline”! I also enjoyed listening to the Marks discuss an editor’s critique of their manuscript. Since they wrote about a female protagonist, the editor suggested using a female pseudonym, and I’m pleased to note that they succeeded without one (though Mark Desvaux used the shorter pen name ‘Mark Oliver’). It’s no spoiler to note that the Marks indeed wrote and self-published a Kindle bestselling novel in a year. Back to Reality is a fast-paced story about time-travel, body swapping and the lives one could have lived. Its success doesn’t surprise me given the excellence of the Marks’ podcasting platform, but it does make me smile. They did it! And the podcast is still going and growing, with many of their listeners publishing books including more bestsellers. If you’ve ever dreamed of writing a bestseller, you might enjoy listening to it, too. Thank you, London Book Fair!
Five pelicans groom themselves in St. James’ Park, London, during one of my Artist Dates.
During the first year of my undergraduate studies, I encountered a book called The Artist’s Way. A classmate who’d completed a visual arts program told me about the volume and how his class had used it at art school. Julia Cameron’s book has sold over 3 million copies and inspired countless artists, but this was my first encounter with it. I was intrigued by my friend’s stories of how the book inspired an outpouring of productivity and gave him the courage to use masses of high-quality paint rather than being stingy. I wanted to check this book out myself.
I found a copy of The Artist’s Way in a used bookstore. One of my classes at the time involved a project in which we all found something we’d always wanted to do and did it. I’d always wanted to paint, and I used this book as inspiration. I started writing Morning Pages, following Cameron’s practice of writing three pages longhand every morning in which you vent, brainstorm, and babble. I went on Artist Dates, inspiring solo outings, though I no longer remember where I went.
I did Cameron’s exercises, listing activities I’d always wanted to do and “secret selves” who reflected aspects of my personality that I didn’t typically express. To be candid, I only made my way partway through the book, but by the end of the year, I had in fact learned to paint. I hung some of my pieces in my dorm room, and painting entered the repertoire of arts I practiced and believed myself capable of doing. I also tried out other art forms, writing a good song and a not-as-good-but-still-finished musical. The Artist’s Way, even imperfectly followed, was a wellspring of inspiration. Once the year ended, inspired and enlivened, I moved on.
Near the end of 2019, over a decade later, an intriguing call for submissions got me writing a fantasy short story on the commute to and from my editing job. I got started but alternated between chipping away at the story and sitting there with a muddled, unproductive brain. I wanted to keep up my momentum, to keep writing, so I found myself picking up a tool I hadn’t used in years: the Morning Pages.
On mornings when my brain wasn’t up to the task, I used my time on the London tube to ramble in my notebook about what was happening in my life. From there, spurred on by seeing a friend posting about The Artist’s Way on social media, I began to follow the book in earnest. My story coaxed me into taking a second walk down the Artist’s Way.
A lot has changed since my first half-finished use of Cameron’s tools. I’ve moved from the creatively nurturing nest that my university provided for me to the daily routine of a full-time job, moving in a circuitous path that’s included freelancing, multiple careers, and entrepreneurship. I’ve lived in three different countries. I’ve published a successful book and dozens of short pieces. Having come from a place of early success, I’ve also become very familiar with failure. I’ve been prolific at times, blocked at times, and overly reticent with submissions. The drive of creative inspiration has at many points given way to the need to get things done.
This need has given me a new perspective on The Artist’s Way. I’m discovering that it is, in fact, an ingenious organizational tool. The Morning Pages remind me of forgotten items to check off my to-do list and help me organize my creative projects. Sometimes bits of writing emerge from the pages, but more often than not they resemble vacuuming – getting the mind clean and ready for work. The Artist Dates have taken me on walks around the neighborhood where I work, enjoying the splendors of Buckingham Palace and St. James’ Park, becoming familiar with the birds and flowers there. For some, Artist Dates bring a welcome sense of adventure. For me, they’ve brought a deeper connection and grounding in my surroundings.
The first time I tried The Artist’s Way, I was much closer to being that “artist child” that Cameron wants her readers to reconnect with inside themselves. I was less familiar with the challenges of the marketplace and had largely received encouragement in my writing and creative pursuits. I’d experienced the sting of some failures, but not on the scale that adulthood would bring. With this context, the encouragement offered by The Artist’s Way has been much more powerful the second time around.
Engaging with the book’s exercises has not been easy. They’ve opened old wounds and questions about my future. However, the changes have been profound. I’d expected to discover an exotic array of new interests or begin engaging with new art forms the way I did last time. Instead, my inner voice piped up loud and clear that I want to write and need to fight for that desire.
I was reminded of being eight years old and imagining that I would someday write all the things I read – mystery novels, advertisements, nature magazines, newspapers, everything! I remembered submissions that got lost and wondered why I hadn’t followed up. I became determined to follow that voice urging me to write all kinds of things, write what’s fun, and not put limits on myself. It’s okay that I want to be focused right now, that I don’t want to crochet or make a podcast. It’s okay that I’m scared to fail over and over. I’m determined to listen to my inner voice and honor that eight-year-old’s dreams.
So, what’s changed in my life since beginning my second journey with The Artist’s Way? I’ve written a short story and several poems, begun a novella in a new genre, finished revising a manuscript and submitting it to my first round of agents, and embarked upon a “100 submissions a year” challenge. (I’m going for submissions rather than rejections because it’s a concrete goal within my control. One of these has already turned into an acceptance, and I’m certainly not sulking about it!)
I’ve taken the initiative to create a blog for authors at my job. I’ve come up with several ideas for potential writing projects. I’ve started learning about linguistics and spent a morning picking up a few phrases in Swahili. I’ve gotten back in touch with some old friends, reached out to my great-aunt about family recipes, and grown very familiar with the pelicans of St. James’ Park. Fear, realism, and cynicism tango with hope and the excitement of infinite possibilities. Here I stand, in the middle of the Artist’s Way, and this time I’m determined to make it to the end.
Have you tried The Artist’s Way? What was your experience like?
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