One tomato, two tomato, three tomato, four

It appears that most of my posts have the word procrastination in them. It seems I may have an issue with trying to find a way to JUST GET ON WITH IT.

Not to panic though, help is at hand. Every week I meet up with my fellow writers and we eat cake, write, eat more cake, write some more and then I head home feeling heavier round the waist and lighter in my pocket but most importantly I can hold my head high because I achieved something. I wrote. Words in a draft that may or may not make sense to anyone else but they are perfect to me.

What’s my secret? Do I have a ghost-writer who jots down my every word as I sip hot chocolate, alas no, I’m not famously busy enough for any of that. Maybe I talk into my phone Fox Mulder style and eat cherry pie. No. So, what do I do?

I count tomatoes.

And no I haven’t suddenly lost it, it’s called the Pomodoro technique. There are different aspects to it which you can change to suit your needs but if you have a deadline or just want to STOP FAFFING then this is your guy/gal. Your saviour of the continual head-banging on the table in frustration, your knight in shiny red fruity/veg armour. You get the picture.

Using an egg timer/clock/app/watch/fancy technical doo daa – set an alarm for 25 minutes. Now write. Just write. No distractions, no internet, no social media, just write. No grammar, no punctuation. Just write.

Try not to jump out of your seat when the alarm goes (yes, I have done that in the past)  instead, get up from your seat and get a drink of water, whatever you need to clear your mind a little and away from the screen. Once five minutes are up, do the same – set alarm for 25 mins and repeat.

Each 25 minute slot is 1 tomato. So, how many tomatoes do you want to achieve today? Me? I was a 1 tomato day today.

Please note that as they are all fictitious tomatoes, they can be any colour, size or gender you like. Maybe you could doodle them on your page while you decide what to do next.

Perfetto.

P.S tomatoes were not harmed in the making of this post.

 

Run… and become?

Wheezing my way around Arthur’s Seat on Saturday 27th May, I ponder why I am doing this. Six miles across unseasonably scorching tarmac, with admittedly tremendous views, I run as fast as my wee legs can carry me. The cheerful tone of my running app lady tells me I’m doing not too bad considering, my beetroot face says otherwise though.

Amy Ford from ECHC in the house!

The excitement in the air as the starting countdown begins, reaches my section towards the back (easy now) and fills me with even more determination. As we begin there’s a new-found sense of camaraderie among the fellow smiley strangers that urge each other on, especially when ‘that’ hill appears at the 2k mark. It’s infectious.

The lull of laughter eats into the croon of Paolo Nutini as he waxes lyrical about growing up beside me. He didn’t grow up beside me but his chocolate voice calms my nerves and lets me find my pace. I chuckle as the oohs and aahs from those taking part that are new to my city, filter in through my ear phones as they remark at my taken-for-granted skyline in the blazing sun.

I’m lucky, I nearly shout. I get to live here and see this everyday!

Buzz Lightyear runs past me smiling as he gathers pace, never stopping even when he needs to raise the mask he’s wearing for some cool air to help him along. I salute you my fine out-of-this-world friend. I then spot what I can only describe as a nutter in a cow onesie, the spotty pattern makes no meals of how perhaps another non-fleecy outfit choice should’ve been made. But then we don’t normally get weather like this in Edinburgh.These amazing humans I’ve met along the radical road are what this is all about.

Sue and Aby #TeamECHC

Toto, we’re definitely not in Kansas anymore.

It’s roasting. I’m a bit emotional, as I always am when I do something like this, but it’s all for a good cause, right?

Right! It certainly is.

I’m raising money for kids, so I channelled my inner-child (not difficult because I can be very silly) and wore a tutu. I have to admit, in that heat, I was glad I was a fleece and acrylic-free zone. An assortment of netting, ribbon and colours of the rainbow caught my eye every time I raised a knee and why not.

It was light enough to not wear me down and it brought a smile to the championing crowd as I ran/wheezed past them – a win in my eyes. Donna Summer crooning in my ear, I smile and wave back enjoying the cheery faces urging me on. ‘You can do it’ I lip read over the 80’s mix of nonsense blasting in my ears.

I want to thank the MacMillan guys at the mini roundabout on the last 1k, you have no idea how much I needed your ‘high five this board if you need more power’, the finishing line was just ahead and the magic of cardboard certainly bestowed its powers on me. I owe you a debt of gratitude and a cold beer.

I can’t complain about the fracture in my elbow or my recovery from a trapped nerve when I’m running for the Edinburgh Children’s Hospital Charity. When I just can’t take one more step, I think of the Clown Doctors making their way around the wards cheering up all the children, the famous panto guys taking time out of their schedules to visit toddlers and babies on beeping machines who just need something else to think about for a minute or two, or the visits to Edinburgh Castle for patients and their families to enjoy – a respite from their daily life of looking after their seriously ill children. I might be biased because I work for ECHC but the effort and unrelenting passion the staff have for the cause is just fantastic. 

That’s what I think about when I run.

I think about what else I can raise funds for to make these children still feel like children even when the sun is shining but they can’t go outside the wards they call home.

Words can’t really express what I want to say to everyone who donated towards my run. The generosity and enthusiasm for my mad dash around my beloved city has been emotionally overwhelming and slightly surreal. A mere thank you just doesn’t really do it justice but that’s all I have right now.

I just want to make a difference, no matter how small. And you can too. Run and become that person that gives a little back.

Child first. Patient second.

My Life as a Creative Octopus

I sometimes wonder how I manage to keep all the creative plates I spin from crashing to the ground and smashing into little pieces. Splinters that I know I would never find again, even with my varifocals on.

My writing process is a bit like that, I finish my synopsis, draft 1 is next, followed by reviewing my bio and the careful preparation of a covering letter that will hopefully make the gatekeepers want to read on. Have I forgotten anything? Is it in the right format? Is it what they asked for?

It’s as if my work-in-progress is taunting me, ‘ah, so you think you’ve finished’, it says in my ear just as I place my envelope in the dark post box mouth of destiny.

‘Spreadsheet’ it whispers on the wind as I head home thinking about all the potential mistakes I’ve made in what I’ve just sent out – a curse of being a writer.

I keep a spreadsheet for all the submissions I’ve sent out to Gatekeepers’ mysterious lairs. I tend to send out two at a time and I bet all of the companies you want to send your stories too prefer a different format, different amount of words, by e-mail, by post etc – the submission guideline list is endless but if you’re prepared, then you will be fine.

I use Libreoffice on Ubuntu but the selections and formatting are practically the same regardless of what operating system you use. To follow is a very basic example of setting up a spreadsheet to keep submission info in…

Open excel/equivalent and select new file. A fresh clean empty page will appear on your screen.

First thing to do before you do anything else is save your new sheet in an on-line folder you will remember. Where do you normally save your documents? C drive? K drive? Perhaps in the same on-line yellow folder where you keep all your story files? Maybe you could create a new folder and keep all your submissions in one place? I would recommend naming each submission folder by year or by publisher/agent – whatever works for you.

Once the clean sheet is saved, you will see the new file name appearing at the top of the page with .xls after it. Yay! Fabulous start.

What information do you instantly want to know from a glance at your spreadsheet? Here’s an example of some subject headers –

Company name – e.g Nosy Crow

Award – if applicable (e.g New Writers Award)

Required – e.g 3500 words from latest WIP, 500 word synopsis, covering letter, writing achievements… Remember to always check font formats from submission guidelines. If you need to complete an on-line form, it’s a good idea to draft up your responses elsewhere and copy and paste into submission forms when you’re happy.

Name – the editor/agent’s name would go here

E-mail – their e-mail address not yours. Yes, I have done that in the past.

Website info – best place to get info on that company/award

File name – add link to the file you sent to this company i.e c:/temp/writing/submissions/May 2017/My story by Great Big Jar 3500 words.doc – you won’t panic if they call or you can’t remember where you saved it. May 2017 should also have all the documents mentioned in the ‘required’ cell. Keep them all in the same folder and saved as what they are My Story synopsis, My Story bio, My Story writing achievements. so when you look for the yellow folder in the file path you will see them all sitting under there. Behaving.

Date sent – date you hit the black button of destiny on your keyboard or posted your pristine pages in the red box.

Deadline date – there will be a deadline date for an award here or put a date in this section that you want to reach before you check in with them. We all do it, so might as well have it in writing.

Reply received – you will be astonished at the difference in each companies reply – same day, same week, same month, a year – expect the unexpected and try not to bombard them with ‘have you read my sub yet’ e-mails. One chase up is enough and preferably after the time they have stated in their guidelines.

Pester date – this is the date that I keep a note of, it reminds me of when I can send a quick ‘have you read my amazing work, you have, haven’t you and you just don’t have the words to tell me how awesome it is and the contract is ready to go’ or not, but you get my meaning.

Now back to your page – you will see that horizontal columns are alphabetised and vertical columns are numerical. You can change the size of any cell by hovering over the line that splits one column from another, a double-headed arrow symbol appears. Just drag and drop to the size you need.

All the bold words mentioned above or your choice of headers can then be typed across the cells – Company Name in cell A 1, Award in cell B 1 and so on. If the heading is too long you just need to resize the cell as before. One you are happy with your row of horizontal headers, make them stand out – bold, italics, underlined, font, size – these tools can all be found on the bar at the top of the screen.  Now you can add in all the submissions you have sent – using one line for each submission. If you’re feeling good about it all, leave a line between each one. Space them out, let them breathe. Go mad, add colour as the replies come in –  green for YES they want more, red for not today thanks, orange for maybe?

If there are too many words in one cell – right click on the cell you want to increase in size, select FORMAT CELLS then ALIGNMENT and tick the box that says WRAP TEXT AUTOMATICALLY. The cell will automatically grow bigger to accommodate the words you have entered and will also change the row to sort itself out – streamlined and perfect.

Now that you have all this info there, you don’t need to worry about who’s still to get back to you etc. Start another WIP and carry on being creative. You have indeed made progress and there will be an agent/publisher out there for you, you just have to have a little hope.

Be Awesome. Always.

Good luck!

 

Picasso Splashes and Other Stains

There’s a monster at home that lurks in our loo,

It deletes all the training in boys and men too.

It sprinkles the walls with pee-coloured spray,

And ‘apparently’ no-one has made it that way.

 

I ask once again, ‘who pee’d on the wall’,

Not me, not you or the dad who’s so tall?

The shrugs and ‘don’t knows’ echo round the thin room,

The lowering of heads fill my vision with gloom.

Continue reading Picasso Splashes and Other Stains

Lost and Found

It was the start of an ordinary day in the life of Great Big Jar. Copious Weetabix were consumed in the normal mad rush at that time of the morning with the infuriating pebble-dash splatter of the cement-like goo right down the front of my freshly donned t-shirt. Tea that was poured hours ago, now sits in the mug forming a perfect oil spill, its pale demeanour knows all too well I’m going to empty it down the sink and create a clone that will do the exact same thing.

(The literary legend that is) Sue Wallman, on the other hand, was cooking up a conniving way to entice me out of my melodrama and through to the West side of my fair country. It was all under the pretence of bringing through SCBWI South East Scotland members on a road trip to the event itself. And ‘seeing as you’ll be there anyway kind of chat’ began to happen.

And she succeeded. The short and very neat conversation went something like this…

Sue: Help! We need a chair for the event in Glasgow and wondered if you knew anyone who is familiar with the children’s literary scene and is going to the same event you’re going to…

Me: Erm, I can do it, if you like?

Sue: Yay!

Yes, the rat was very smelly but I am so glad she asked.

From that moment on, I became the chair for the last stop on the epic Lost and Found Young Adult tour.

Channelling my inner Rapunzel my emotions went into overdrive – you know that scene, when she finally touches grass for the first time and then freaks out in-case her mother found out she had left the tower. That.

The great thing about doing an event like this in a different part of the country from where the authors involved live, is that I knew that we probably wouldn’t get the chance to meet up before the event itself. What do you mean, you shout, of course you want to meet them in person?

To explain, this gave me the chance to curb my huge fangirl cheesy grin and appetite for shenanigans when I meet amazing authors (almost reminds me of the excitement I felt when I met the band ‘Bros’ when I was 13, almost) and just get on with the task in hand in a professional and efficient manner. Obviously.

It’s not as if they could hear me shriek at my kids as I told them about it ‘Oh, wow! Patrice Lawrence is going to be there boys, she’s amazing. Remember that book about the boy who’s girlfriend died at the very beginning and I was engrossed in it so much I was late for work four times because I kept missing my bus stop’…Orangeboy! Or, ‘Do you remember pink-haired Kathy Evans, she’s coming up to Scotland guys! I love her and More of me! Remember the Facebook photo shop thing we did for the launch?’ And ‘Olivia Levez‘s amazing novel The Island, remember we chatted about plane crashes just before I booked our Summer holiday?’ Oh, ‘and Sue Wallman‘s scene from Lying About Last Summer with the swimming pool, that you didn’t get the chance to re-enact at swimming club after all’ and then ‘Eugene Lambert‘s amazing novel The Sign of One when we coloured our pinkies red to match the twins and talked about what’s it like to have a family member the same age as you and how they can finish each others sentences and speak their own language as pre-schoolers’…that bit might just be me though.

And breathe. Yes, it’s fair to say I was very excited.

The art of conversation was not dead, it was merely having a nap while I e-mailed thoughts and suggestions to them all about what kind of event they would like to have to end their literary tour. They were very gracious with me, some people may have called it tolerant. Did I mention I was very excited at the time?

In true girly guide fashion, I gave them all a little momento of the journey they had made. They would never get lost ever again. Much better than a Blue Peter badge. Maybe.

Anyway, here I am, re-living it all. Thank you so much for letting me be a part of that world, even just for an hour. It confirmed that writing is the right thing for me to do after all. The intrepid explorers North also gave me a gift… there may have been something in my eye.

If you ever get the chance to chair an event, go for it.