A DIFFICULT CHOICE

Three years ago I decided I needed to have a safety-net in my life. For many years I have worked in the music industry mainly as a performer and composer of Classical music, but the instability of this field here in Greece has forced me to investigate alternative sources of income. I thought about the various hobbies and pastimes I enjoy and tried to identify any among them that might, with a little effort and luck, be potential 'nice little earners'.

I couldn't very well become a professional chess player. I enjoy the occasional game but my eleven year-old nephew is as likely to beat me as I am him. And I do like to chisel away at the odd piece of furniture but the book case took six months to complete and the thought of spending six months putting up another one for someone else just to make a few bucks seemed distinctly unappetising. So, since there is no money to be made in flying model aeroplanes or hill walking, I was left eventually with writing. 'Now there's something you can do,' I said to myself. How wrong I was.

Like many other artistic pursuits such as music and painting, writing has its own secret knowledge. Whereas artists learn about the golden section, harmonic relationships, colour theory and formal structures; musicians learn about scales and keys, rhythm and tempo, expression, harmony, counterpoint and sonata form, writers have their secret knowledge – grammar.

When I was at school I enjoyed writing stories with strange endings and unexpected twists, but my marks were always low because of my poor grammar (not to mention my appalling spelling). I had consciously relegated myself to the rank of crap amateur writer, as I sent type written copies of my error-ridden output to a few close friends and family members. Now, with my new decision to 'turn professional' (I still laugh when I read that phrase), I had to 'get my chops up' as they say in the music business, – improve my technique, to the laymen among us.

I know, from my experiences teaching music, that if you're not learning a new piece there's not much a teacher can do for you. He can give you some scales to play and a few exercises, but without a piece of music in front of you, you're going to miss ninety percent of what you need to learn. So you must get a piece if you're going to learn anything substantial. In writing, this means starting a new work – a Work In Progress or WIP as it's known to the initiates. A short story is considered a good place to start if you haven't written before, but I'd 'written' dozens of those, so how about a novel? Okay, here's what I did, and I still don't know if it was completely the wrong decision or not. I took the plunge and began writing a novel.

Imagine trying to figure out how to play Beethoven's violin concerto on the banjo in total darkness dark with one hand tied behind your back. Unfortunately that's what I had unwittingly undertaken. I charged ahead, writing thousands upon thousands of words with only the barest of plans in my head. After a month of headaches, disappointments and massive abuse of the delete key, I decided I needed a real plan. I glued eight large polystyrene tiles onto a huge piece of plywood and hung it on the wall beside my computer. I down loaded information and photographs of actor ideal for my characters, and pinned them onto the tiles like a police briefing room before they move in to catch the killer. But I was still improvising without knowing the tune.

So now we arrive at the difficult choice. I really had to get help with my writing. But how?

OPTION 1

When I'd written the first three chapters of The Grangemouth Conspiracy I handed them tentatively out  among some close friends to see what their reactions would be. One of these was my American lawyer friend, George, who would be the first to read the entire manuscript. George is retired and his English rings of Atticus Finch and Mr. Smith Goes To Washington. His wonderful 'voice' became an integral part of the book without me even realising it. Another was fellow musician, Patrick Evans. Patrick is a bit of a bookworm so I asked him to decide if the text 'felt like a book'.

I didn't know it at the time but this is not really a very productive process. The reason? Well, they're your friends, aren't they? They're not going to tell you your book sucks. Perhaps you can pay some one to tell you it sucks.

OPTION 2

You can get help on the Internet, surely. Days of surfing proved that if you were willing to pay a nominal fee (sometimes quite a bit more than nominal), you could find some recent graduate to look over your WIP. A promise of in-depth critique, structural analysis, editorial assistance etc. etc. seemed quite tantalising but I was determined to spend less than I might eventually make out of this venture, so I tied myself to the mast and sailed right by the editorial service sirens.

OPTION 3

The third and for me at least final road open was to join an open forum and pick the brains of those who had travelled the same path before. After more surfing and lurking on various forums claiming to be authors' workshops, the most of which turned out to be bickering matches between the only two remaining writers on the site, I was ready to give up and just lock myself in a room and pummel the keyboard until a book popped out by chance. 

There were of course sites with wonderful advice about all aspects of writing, lists of Top 10 tips and hints from successful authors, sites offering automatic spelling and grammar correction, a few analysing individual techniques of specific greats such as Dickens or Dostoevsky, and of course Goodreads, where new books piled up by the thousand a day, all in search if an informative critique from a 'real' reviewer. But there was really nothing to keep me from that locked room. 

After eighteen months of self-imposed isolation, I tried submitting my work to a few literary agents. After more than twenty outright rejections, I received an email from Eve White Literary Agency. That too, was a rejection but it included a short note suggesting that I might improve my writing skills by visiting the Writer's Workshop Forum and taking one of their specialised courses. After twenty-plus rejections it was a no-brainer. So, off I went to sign up.

A KIND OF SOLUTION

That was in March. I stayed true to my decision not to spend more than I thought I could make out of writing on courses to improve it, and just logged onto the Forum. It took a while for me to work out what was going on, but gradually I realised that the private courses being given by the wonderful Emma Darwin and her colleagues were feeding trained writers into the forum. Occasionally a regular member of the forum would disappear for six weeks and then resurface (on the forum) a new improved version of their old self. The WW Self Editing Course has become legendary, and the results are clear for anyone to read. Writers who take this particular course emerge more mature, more confident and more serious about their writing. I couldn't believe it at first. Like the before and after photographs for some slimming product, the prose of the fresh-off-the-course writers shone many time brighter than work they had posted only a month and half earlier. Only one problem for me – my oath.

Some one once said, 'if you was to get smart fast, hang around with smart people, if you want to get dumb, hang around with the dumb.' A bit over-simplified but still, a good principle to follow. I chose to hang out (in the cyber sense of the word) with people who could write. And the WW Forum was certainly filling up with lots of them. 

Six months later, and I consider myself maybe not to be a great writer, but at least to be a competent one. Brushing shoulders with real writers has taught me several things. How to write slightly better than I did before, for a start; how to respect the hard work that goes into writing even the most simple publishable work; and most importantly patience and perseverance.

It is said that all thing come to he who waits. Well, that depends on what you do while you're waiting, doesn't it?