Panic Over

In July I Facebooked this article about Paris - the ultimate cure for writers’ block, not knowing I would find myself in Paris in August. No excuses then, I had to put the cure to the test. My first trip was to the Shakespeare and Co Bookshop mentioned in the article. It was a hot and steamy Saturday afternoon; I had been sightseeing all morning and knew the location, on the banks of The Seine, would be busy. I just went for a look-see, I had to see what all the fuss was about.

The cramped bookshop downstairs was packed with browsers and tourists. I felt uncomfortable in the jostling crowd and made my way upstairs. Here I found a scattering of earnest young things in different poses of curled ownership, either reading, writing (Macs on laps) or gazing at some far off spot, no doubt waiting for some inspiration. I found the whole scene hilarious and couldn't wait to get out. This was a shame because it felt like the type of bookshop I could love and had also been given five stars by some friends.

On Monday I had the day to myself. The weather was cooler in the morning but the air told me heat was on its way. I spent the morning in Montparnasse Cemetery in the company of Jean Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, Samuel Beckett, and Odette. I also enjoyed the presence of some ordinary (live) people who were tending loved ones’ graves. I noticed the grave of a couple who died in Air France flight 447 had fresh flowers. The hum of a leaf blower buzzed in the distance and the slight breeze shook the trees overhead enough to dislodge more autumn foliage. I sat on a bench and wrote a long letter to my friend.

From there I walked towards the river, crunching through the leave filled gutters. The Jardin du Luxembourg is where philosophy students Jean Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir would rendezvous, but I did not discover this until after my visit. This, to me, was a green space where I could sit on one of the park’s many metal chairs and watch. I watched Parisians eating packed lunches, joggers, women with pushchairs and the parkies, in tractors, scoop up loads of leaves and deposit them in a large metal cage. These leaves would eventually turn to mulch to feed the plants. And it was here, at that moment, I took my notebook from my bag and I wrote my first piece of fiction in three months. I was inspired by a pile of leaves. I felt relieved and happy, I could still write – this was the beginning of the end of my block.

From here I wove through the streets, still aiming for the river, and noting the location of all the bookshops on the way. This time Shakespeare and Co was quiet. I made my way upstairs where a solitary girl sat, legs crossed (Mac on lap) and typing furiously while she gazed wistfully through the window at Notre Dame. I found as comfortable a seat as I could in a place where all the seats are ill sprung. Upstairs is exclusively a library of old books so I chose a tattered copy of Voltaire in Love by Nancy Mitford and read two chapters, undisturbed. It was tranquil and special and I could see how some writers find inspiration in these conditions. For me, it wasn't the physical space that allowed me to write although being away from home helped, it was giving myself the space to be alone in a foreign land and to relax for the first time in a long while.

When the wall goes up

I used to be one of those writers who believed writers' block was a myth. How was it possible to not have the urge to write. I walk out in the morning and even though it is raining there is still a bird on the wire willing to sing for me. There might be a plane flying overhead for me to wonder about. There are always face book posts to make me smile, rage or sigh. Inspiration is everywhere. But I am in a period of being unable to write or at least unable to write what I should be writing - my new novel, that article I should have finished, the letter to send out with another article.

The block came during the period of high activity around my debut novel publication. I was appearing in festivals, in book stores, in libraries. The publicity was going well, articles and reviews were being published. I was at last a published author and was enjoying all that went with that.

I admit, I was already struggling to write my new novel while trying to work on the debut's publicity. Every event I went to people would ask what I was working on. Most days I would sit at my the desk and pluck each word out with a tweezer. But I have always said one word in front of another eventually leads to a chapter so I kept at it.

Then two major change events happened in my life and it all stopped - the publicity and the writing. It was the first time it had happened to me and I was worried.

I wrote my list of things I should work on each day. A list always works, except this time it didn't.

I laid out piles of work on the table as a reminder of where my focus should be. That normally works. Nope. I walked away from it and tried to ignore the fact that the pile needed dusting.

 I read inspirational writing works like Brenda Ueland's If You Want to Write. Very interesting but it made me feel worse.

Then I went to Weegie Wednesday, the monthly networking event held in Glasgow on the third Wednesday of the month and I asked the advice of other writers. They all said the same; 'Leave it, it will come back.' 'Don't force it, it will come back.' 'Do you have a deadline, no? Then what are you worried about?' 'Put it aside and do something else, it will come back.'

So I have scrubbed out my list and I am taking their advice. I will read well and concentrate on other things that matter in my life. I have to trust my friends and fellow writers and wait for the day when 'it will come back'. I just hope it doesn't take too long.

Almost The Most Northerly Bookshop

Loch Croispol Bookshop and Cafe (photo C Baird)

A few miles from Cape Wrath, in the north western tip of mainland Britain, is the small settlement of Durness. It is famous for many things; spectacular beaches, Smoo Cave and a John Lennon Memorial. It is also home to one of most welcoming bookshops I have ever visited.

North West Highlands Panorama (Photo C Baird)

I first came to Durness in 2006 while on a tour of the Highlands. Then The Loch Croispol Bookshop and Cafe was nestled in the centre of the Balnakeil Craft Village. Even in summer cold winds bite hard up that end of the country and on that occasion, after a beach walk, sampling the cafe's soup and hot chocolate was an essential before the serious business of browsing books began. I always planned to go back.

Caravans and Cliffs (Photo C Baird)

(Photo C Baird)

When I realized I would be holidaying in Ullapool (a mere seventy miles drive from Durness) I found my excuse. I phoned Kevin Crowe, the owner, and he was delighted to offer me an afternoon book signing slot. The store has now moved to a more prominent position by the craft village entrance. It is more spacious but has retained its cosy welcome. The extra space means more stock particularly in second hand books.

Stunning (Photo C Baird)

I spent a wonderful relaxed afternoon there, signing books, drinking delicious coffee served by Emily and Simon. And while the shop was quiet I delighted in my favorite pastime - browsing. I couldn't resist buying a second hand Ladybird Book, a children's picture book for my granddaughter and Carmina Gadelica, a book that has been on my wish list for a couple of years.

 More signings like this please!

 NB.  If you have never visited this part of Scotland you are missing a true wilderness experience. Go soon before it too is covered in wind turbines

Wise Children

Wise Children by Angela Carter
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is the first Angela Carter novel I have read but it wont be the last. The story of the Chance twins, Dora and Nora was a refreshing read. Very British in style, witty, clever and at times old fashioned. It was a delight to read.
The narrative voice of Dora was intimate and quirky. It was a great holiday read.

View all my reviews

My new five-a-day

Just after The Incomers contract was signed I was given the advice that I should try to sell as many books as I could in the first two months after publication.   I abandoned my fiction writing at the beginning of the year, three months before publication, to become my own publicist.  I made phone calls,  my publisher sent out review copies of the book, I wrote articles.  It was almost a full time job.  

I thought after The Incomers was launched it could be left alone for a while to sail in the safe waters of my hard labours from the pre-publication months.  I imagined I could get back to fiction writing, to what I wanted to do.  But after one month on the market I realise I am deluding myself.  

The sales have been good in the first month but I now know that the pressure needs to continue until the bow wave of word of month begins.  I find that I am not satisfied unless I have done something to help nudge the sales along.  I have put too much work into the project to leave sales to the chance that the reviews and articles deliver.

Yet I still want to write fiction.  I have another project I am excited about. I don't want that enthusiasm to die. I am a writer not a publicist.

So in the same way as I sometimes set myself goals for writing I now set myself goals for publicity.  

Every day I must do five things to sell my book.  I could be something as simple as making five phone calls or sending five emails but I must do five somethings every day.  Once they are done I am free to write and research.

Yesterday I made a couple of phone calls, sent an email and made a couple of posts in Linkedin.  The results are that I now have two book signings in the diary, a firm yes for a magazine review and three kindle sales.

I may run out of ideas on the five a day but as long as I keep coming up with new ways to sell the book I will keep to my five a day regime.

And this blog post counts as one of today's 'fives'.

Work Life Balance - Fife

Tayport - The beginning of the Fife Coastal Walk

It seemed like madness to go on holiday a week after my book was launched.  The advice given to all debut novelists is to try to sell as many books as possible in the first two months after publication.  But Easter has always been a holiday for me and I have other things going on in my life.


Wife

Colin has supported me throughout the book launches; taking time off work to ferry me around and spending many hours videoing and editing youtube clips.  He deserved a break.
We booked a small cottage in Kingskettle, a little village in the centre of Fife. The cottage was no more than a converted garage nestled into the banking of the main Edinburgh to Aberdeen railway line. Some would have found the constant buzz of trains annoying but I found it comforting.
We drove there on Thursday night to give us a good start on Friday.


Coastal Walker 

Sea Defenses at Tentsmuir

The Fife Coastal path traces the coast of Fife from the Tay Bridge to the Kincardine Bridge.  We walked the first part from the Tay and around Tentsmuir. The sky was overcast but it was dry when we left the carpark.  Tentsmuir is an amazing forest of pines teetering on the edge of sand dunes. Remnants of sea defenses from WWII reminded me how vulnerable this island was. After about ten miles of walking we caught the bus back to the car and were soon rewarded with a G&T in our cottage outdoor hot tub. A hot tub we were assure by the owner was not visible from the train!  I have my doubts.


Author

Book Signing - Waterstones St Andrews

 Easter Saturday was a work day for me.  St Andrews was jumping with tourists, students and locals and I am pleased to say many visited Waterstones and bought my book.  The store staff were delightful and I was happy to add sixteen more sales to their tally that day.  I clocked off at three and headed for Anstruther for a famous chip tea at the Wee Chippy, one of the best fish and chips shops in the world.


Granny

Help I'm being strangled

Easter Sunday was a family day and Cairnie Fruit Farm, just north of Cupar, is my family's favorite.  The Easter Bunny met us and we spent the day trampolining, Easter egg hunting and much merry making.

Saved by a toddler

Hillwalker

Falkland and Fife fields in the rain

No holiday is complete without a hillwalk. A short, steep pull up East Lomond on the way home worked off the weekend excesses and reminded me that Fife is a fabulous county with much to offer.

It was blustery on the top but I could still make out the Forth to the south and the Tay to the north and the wonderful patchwork of agriculture that makes the view unique.

Job Done