Mortlock: An Interview with Jon Mayhew

One of the first writers I got to know through blogging is Jon Mayhew.  He was writing his first novel when I started blogging and he seemed like a nice guy.  Plus I felt like we bonded a bit over a mutual interest in running, although his interest far out-stripped mine.  And talking of out-stripping, Jon has now become a true star in the publishing firmament with his Bloomsbury-published young adult novel, Mortlock.  Even though I thought my days of reading "kids" books were long over, of course I read it as soon as it came out.  I was so excited for him.  And within a few pages I was excited for me and Jon's characters, as well.  What would happen?  How much danger were Alfie and Josie in?  Would I be able to get to sleep?  Mortlock is a wonderful book, and so I've taken advantage of Jon's nice-guyness to ask him a bunch of questions about writing this sort of book --  something that I assumed was (wrongly, now I think) quite different from the sort of writing I do myself:
I have never written anything for a young audience and so, while reading, I couldn’t help but wonder if you always had the age of your intended reader in mind while writing? Does that affect your prose style? The structure of the text? 

I just read the story that was in my head really. I didn’t consciously think of a child reading the book. Things like description had to be cut and tailored. Too much description or explanation slows the pace of the book and I wanted it to roll along at a fair old lick really. In terms of word choice, I didn’t worry too much, children are quite capable of using a dictionary. 

I know you are a teacher, and there were small moments in the story that felt very “teacherly” to me, ie little bits of information thrown here and there. Am I correct about this? Do you feel as if the teacher in you was also there while writing? In other words, could you not help but want to occasionally throw in a teaching moment in your text or were your two personae separate? 

I wasn’t aware of ‘teaching’ and hope it doesn’t get in the way of a good story! I think some points just amused or appealed to me and would to children too. The idea that London was congested with traffic in the 1850s struck me as pertinent and would chime with children commuting to school through busy towns everywhere. Likewise the more gruesome details of embalming might catch the imagination. 

There is some seriously gross and scary stuff in “Mortlock.”  Did you ever wonder whether you should be tailoring your story to make it more or less frightening, given your presumed audience? 

It isn’t that gross, honest! Well, okay it is a bit but I tried to keep the horror pretty ‘comic book.’ If you read the likes of Darren Shan, you’ll see that actually I was quite restrained! 

My son happened to pass my bedroom the other day and came downstairs and asked “Hey, how come you have a kid’s book on your nightstand?” When I asked how he knew it was a “kid’s book,” he laughed and mentioned the black edges of the paper and the cover.  Can you tell a book by it’s cover? What was the design process involved in publishing the book and did you have much say in it? 

It’s curious really, the original cover clearly identified it as a book for a much younger audience. I’d mentioned to my editor about maybe having some Amarant red in it but they were worried that where the red faded, it would look pink, not very gothic or scary at all! The black edging was something I’d asked for and Bloomsbury had thought of too so there was a nice piece of synchronicity there. In terms of the design process, I consider myself lucky to have had any input at all, many authors say they don’t have any. Interestingly, with the advent of the e-book, I do think that conventional books are going to change and already are morphing into objects that you might like to have either because of their design, or edgings and end papers. We have books in hard plastic covers, relaunched covers all kinds of things. And don’t think this is just confined to children’s literature. In terms of black edging, I would refer you to ‘The Book of Human Skin’ by Michelle Lovric an adult title by Bloomsbury. 

I know you’re now writing your third novel!! Dare I ask --- are they continuations of stories about Josie and Alfie, or must we bid them a fond adieu and look forward to new characters?

No, Alfie and Josie’s story is told but the other two books are set around the same time and world with some crossover characters so there’s lots more Victorian gothic chills on the way. The next book is called The Demon Collector and is set in the Royal Society of Daemonology. Expect demons, expect gore, expect trouble with a capital T!

It just remains for me to thank you Sue for your support over the years. You’ve followed my blog and I’ve watched your titles spring to life. It’s great to have such great blog buddies!

And thank you, Jon! Now, here's the competition...win a free book, direct from the good people at Bloomsbury - well, via me.  Be the first to post a comment here, and the book is yours.  Be forewarned, as Jon has told us right there on his cover, "Death Is Not The End..."

Beyond Beyond Blue

Again, it's the time thing.  Months ago I had an idea about getting as many authors of the once-and-now-mysteriously-gone bluechrome publishing together for a final hurrah.  And now, it's over.  Thursday was wonderful.  There was a warm and supportive crowd. Plenty of wine.  The best nibbles Marks and Spencer had to offer.  And this beautiful venue:  St Benet Church, just down the street a bit from St. Paul's.  I must admit that when I first arrived to help set up, I had one of those wow moments when I realized where I was and what I was doing.  To think,  me a kid from suburban New York, here organizing a poetry reading in the shadow of the magnificent and historic St Paul's Cathedral.  But St Benet's is also magnificent, with beautiful windows, old wooden pews, and a rather majestic golden eagle overseeing everything and everyone.

  But of course, most important of all was the writing that was shared.  There was a bit of fiction from Patricia Debney's beautiful novel, "Losing You."  But mostly, poetry was read.  There were a few poets from the floor -- always an eye-opener to see the great talent that drifts in, unknown. And then there were the bluechrome poets (either actually published or about to be before the great disappearance): Carolyn Oulton, Sue Rose, Leah Fritz,  Ruth O'Callaghan, Adele Ward, and me.  Sarah Salway and Joe Stein also came along to lend their support, and regards from ex-bluechromers around the country were read.  Many people thanked me for organizing this and I gratefully accepted their thanks.  But to be honest, this was no act of altruism.  I needed to do this for myself.  After all the hurt, worry and anger we all felt during what seems to have been an abandonment, I needed a way to stop and remember all the positives that also came out of my association with bluechrome.  After all, it was bluechrome that was the first to read my work, poetry and prose, and believe it was worth publishing.  It was bluechrome that introduced me to many of the writers I admire so much and am now lucky to call my friends.  It was bluechrome who allowed me to start believing in myself as a writer.  So I wish you well, Anthony, wherever you are.  I thank you for the good you did for me and am now, officially, letting go of the bad.  And I am from today, finally, moving on.

Divulging Secrets

Earlier this week I outed myself about my addiction to romantic comedies over on Novel Spaces.  Now I have another secret to divulge -- a biggie.  I have now been given the official go-ahead to tell people unofficially that my next novel, "A Clash of Innocents," will be published! I can't tell you when or by whom yet -- there are still minor issues to deal with, like contract signing -- but I can tell you it is all real enough that the cover artwork is being discussed and today I started to work seriously on my edits.
    Luckily, the edits don't seem to be too extensive.  I'm thrilled to report that my editor is confident that the book is already in good shape.  There are two editorial points, though, that she wanted me to consider, and that's what I want to talk about today.  I think it's true that many, if not most, writers find that there are certain traps, certain clunky habits they fall into time and time again.  Whether it's an overused word or a worn-out turn of phrase, these little buggers settle into our prose and then become invisible.  No matter how many times you reread the work, you just don't see them sitting there, turning your otherwise beautiful sentences into turgid lumpy mush.  Well, I am here to divulge to you now that I have two of these.  Let's take them one at a time:
   * Starting a sentence with the word But.  But of course, you'll say, there's nothing grammatically wrong with that, and you'd be correct.  But I'm not talking about grammar, I'm talking about relying too much on that one word to express contradiction or comparison.  Here's an example:
      There's nothing grammatically wrong with that.  But I'm not talking about grammar.
True, it's not horrible.  Do it over and over and over again, though, and it becomes clunky and boring.  It's not just a failure of the ear.  For me, it shows a lack of confidence.  I use But all the time because I don't believe I've made my point clearly enough.  The But is the hammer that hits my reader over the head with my comparison.  If I believed the comparison was clear enough, I wouldn't need it so often.  So Sue, cut it out.  If you don't believe in your prose, why should anyone else?  There.  That's the first one.
    * This one's worse.  I continually put quotation marks around words as if to highlight their intended sense of irony.  It's like I've gone through the entire narrative with a nudge-nudge wink-wink.  For example:
      He said he got the tickets from one of his "mates."

Now if I have done my job, then the irony or sarcasm will be evident.  I shouldn't need the damn quotation marks. I'd like to think that this problem isn't a systemic one.  Rather, it is part of my narrator's personality.  She's lovable and funny, but she's also particularly snide and sarcastic.  Yet, there are much better ways of showing this than tossing annoying punctuation marks all over the page.  Again, it shows a lack of confidence.  Stop it, Sue.  Stop it right now.
     Okay.  That feels better.  But I ask you. What are your "nasty" habits?


button courtesy of zazzle.co.uk

A Reminder

I  told you I'd remind you! Go read all about my now not-so-secret obsession over at Novel Spaces.  I mean, you don't have to, but it would be nice if you did.  And then you can make fun of me all you want...

And while I have your attention, here's my list of beautiful bloggers. I hope you all enjoy your award.
Glyn Pope
Poul Webb
A Year in Holland Park
Lettuce-Eating
Not Only in Thailand
Peony Moon
Waving and Drowning

A Bit of Promotion - and Not About Me This Time!

This has been a wonderful week;  the kind of week I dreamed about when I dared to imagine living my life in the arts.  Mainly, my days were taken up with auditions for CurvingRoad's June production, but more on that some other time.  I said I wasn't talking about me here today, and I'm not, for two reasons.  First, because you'll hear more than enough about me and my "secret obsession" if you mosey on over to  Novel Spaces tomorrow where I'm the guest writer (don't worry - I'll remind you).  But second and more importantly, I have another organization's work I want to talk about.

Working in  London's Fringe is a privilege.  Really, the more you get yourself out there the more you discover.  One of the recent theatre companies to develop their own individual approach and to earn more and more praise for it is The Faction *.  This talented group of actors specialize in using innovative physical approaches to reviving classical texts.  Their first production, "Richard III," filled the stage with 25 actors and no set. Everything was created with their bodies, including the horse.  Next came their critically acclaimed production of "Macbeth," where the only set and props were 9 planks of wood.  Those planks became walls, tables, ramparts, forests, everything. It was amazing.  And then, for "Twelfth Night", there was a hollowed-out piano which the actors used as a ship, its legs as swords, climbing all over it to create the landscape.  But always, these devices are used in support of the text, the words taking centre stage.  So I want to plug their next production:
The Tempest, which also happens to be one of my favourites. I'm not sure what tricks they have up their sleeves this time, but it's bound to be something magical.  The Brockley Jack Theatre is a wonderful venue in South East London.  The Faction has now become an Associate Company there, mainly, I think, because over the past few seasons their productions have played to sold-out audiences.  The community has taken this troupe to heart.  Go if you can.  It really shows what can be done in The Fringe when you have a great deal of talent, huge imaginations and enormous energy.
   And look -  DJ Kirkby gave me this award:

How wonderful.  I'll pass it along to some other Beautiful Bloggers tomorrow when I remind you to learn more than you'd ever want to know about my secret obsession.  But for now, I'm running out to catch some sunshine while we have it.

* discerning readers may be able to figure out why I know so much about them :-)

Won't Be Long Now

There were several things I thought I might blog about today, but for various reasons, I can't just yet. But it won't be long now, I thought, as I stared at myself in the mirror making funny teeth-brushing faces. Long Now...well, as I discovered a short while back, that is not just a saying, it is an idea.  And in the manner of most great ideas, it has stopped being just an idea, but went on to become an organization.  Then a project, and then a movement.


The Long Now Foundation is something I discovered via a BBC special a few months ago.  Those who know about my own unshakeable obsession with time may not be surprised about this new fascination of mine.  There seems to be a museum now dedicated to it in San Francisco and a series of lectures.  This might all be a bit "outre" for some.  But one project that they have undertaken seems without question to be worthwhile, and that is the "Rosetta Project." This is a "global collaboration of language specialists and native speakers working to build a a publicly accessible digital library of human languages." An understanding of the evolution of language around the globe and across the centuries -- now that 's an idea any language user could be interested in.  And as native cultures and their indigenous languages become more and more endangered around the globe,  the creation of a library which will preserve these nearly-lost languages stops being just a good idea and becomes a necessity.

While I'm waiting to talk about other things, I thought I'd pass this along to any who might not already know about it.  Food for thought on an early Thursday morning.

A Warm Wellcome

I've heard about the Wellcome Collection forever.  It's a place I've been meaning to go to for yonks and finally, yesterday, I got myself up and out and went.  According to their pamphlet,

        The Wellcome Collection is a free destination for the incurably curious, where you
         can explore what it means to be human through an extraordinary mix of galleries,
         events and a library.

Mainly though, it is a collection about medicine and the way we have dealt with our bodies over the ages.  There are torture devices for childbearing from Victorian times, death masks, voodoo dolls.  But there are also exhibitions bringing the latest research to the non-scientific public.  It was all really fascinating to me.  I  have always loved science, though I've been afraid of it as well.  And although "Tangled Roots" allowed me to indulge my fascination with physics, my first love was medicine.  Way back before I realized  that I was much, much better at words than numbers, I thought I wanted to be a doctor.  I remember once at a "career conference" at school when I was twelve, the counsellor asked me why I wanted to be a doctor.  I told her because I wanted to help people.  Her reply was that it is very difficult for young women to become doctors and that if I wanted to help people I might better do it as a nurse or a teacher.  (Can you imagine telling that to an eager, impressionable young girl? Thankfully, some progress has been made...) So that was the end of that, but my interest has lasted all these years and I've become the sort of mother  who knows a little too much about her children's illnesses.  My visit to the Wellcome Collection brought that all back to me, especially the library.  Walking through those stacks, noticing all the wooden tables and chairs hidden away for quiet study, I thought to myself, "Yes, this is where I want to be."

 So why now?  No, I haven't decided to go to medical school.  But it seems as if percolations about a new novel have started in earnest now, and they are leading towards  some sort of investigation of the connection between medicine and music.  I have hesitated to commit to a new, large project such as this until I knew that I'd be able to find a home for my latest novel about murder and restitution in Cambodia called "A Clash of Innocents."  But I suppose some recent conversations I've been having are allowing me to feel more confident on that score (more on that when I can). But now I know, after yesterday's visit, that I won't be able to control my novelistic urges too much longer in any case, and it feels good.  A "Wellcome" change, as they say.

I won't be able to get back to that library for a few weeks.  This week is all about CurvingRoad auditions, then I have to put on my poet's hat and prepare for the 22nd's "Beyond Blue" reading. But joining the Wellcome Library, and writing yet another novel, now seems inevitable.  But this one does feel as if it will be a bit of a realization of the dreams of the twelve-year-old Sue.  We'll see.

Beyond Blue

"Closure." My favourite psychobabble word because it's something that does seem to work.  Once you reach closure you can finally put those difficult times behind you.  Sometimes external forces bring the closure to you.  Other times, you have to stand up, say "enough already" and slam that door closed.  And so a few months ago I decided it was time to close the bluechrome chapter of my writing life and move on.
      As many of you know, bluechrome was my publisher and published both of my books. Sure, there were struggles along the way, as there seem to be with many small, indie presses.  There were deadlines nearly missed.  Printers suddenly going out of business.  Royalty checks lost in the post -- that one, I hope, is not common to small publishers but was a symptom of the troubles plaguing my own small house.  And then, poof, there was nothing - no emails returned, no website, no new books, no news of any sort.  For six months or so I received emails from fellow bluechromers, and soon-to-be bluechromers, asking if I had heard anything,  asking what I was doing about my apparently lost publisher.  For a long time, I did nothing other than worry.  Then I wrote a few emails "as a friend" asking if everyone was okay. I never heard back.  Then, finally, I sent a letter legally withdrawing my contract citing various breaches.  The letter came back stamped "Addressee No Longer Here."
      I've spent a lot of space on this blog promoting bluechrome.  I'm not here today to do otherwise. I am writing, instead, to tell  you about how I have found a way to reach "closure."  I decided to have a party.  Maybe a wake, but maybe that's being too dramatic.  In any event I contacted all the bluechrome writers I knew and asked if anyone would be interested in having one last event where we can share our work, swap some stories, drink some wine, and buy some books.  The response was overwhelmingly positive.  Clearly, I was not the only one needing closure.  And so on Thursday, 22 April there will be a special event, and I hope any of you who happen to be in London on that evening will come along as we wave goodbye to the past and sail off into our futures:

                                Beyond Blue: A Reading by Bluechrome Authors
                                 Thursday, 22 April       6.30 pm
                                St Benet's Church
                                 Queen Victoria Street    EC4
Unfortunately, some were not able to make this date, and they will be missed, though I know they'll be there in spirit.  But those who will be there, either to read or just to lend their support are, among others, Ruth O'Callaghan, Patrick Osada, Joe Stein, Sue Rose, Jim Bennett, Patricia Debney, Leah Fritz, Adele Ward, Carolyn Oulton.
     So I'm giving you two weeks warning.  Do try to come if you can.  I'm determined to make it a celebration.  Yes, the end of bluechrome brought all sorts of fears and anger and frustration.  But for me, at least, the beginning and the middle of bluechrome was all about dreams realized, a community found, an identity acknowledged.  My life as a public writer started with bluechrome.  For a while it was wonderful, and I am very grateful. So I'll be celebrating on the 22nd, and hope some of you can come along and join me.  And to make it even more enticing, all proceeds will go to the Cold Weather Shelter charity, and we are welcoming any poet who comes to leave a copy of  one of their poems behind to be considered for the anthology now published annually in support of the charity (thanks to the herculean efforts of Ruth O'Callaghan).
      I hope that I'll have some news on the next chapter of my writing life to share with you soon.  But in the meantime, I'm still singing.....

Post-Easter Ramblings plus a few Shameful Metaphors

I hadn't planned on blogging today, but I guess I just can't stay away from all of you.  I had given myself a break from all things internet over the UK's long Easter holiday -- if you like 3-day weekends, you'll love 4 -- while Hubby and I recovered from our flus (nearly there), tested the churning stomach waters (to state a terrible metaphor) with a couple of restaurant outings, and held our own special Guiney holiday celebration.  You see, Easter is the perfect holiday for us, especially when it overlaps with Passover.  When that happens, which is most years, we hold a Seder for whomever we can round up and remind ourselves that the Last Supper was really just a Passover Seder, and that our religions have much more in common than we usually believe. You see, one of us is Catholic, the other Jewish, and rather than choose one over the other, or even reject both, we have embraced both. We do Christmas and Chanukah, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Easter and Passover.  On holidays, we go to church and synagogue, and we've tried hard to make our kids feel welcome in both traditions.  So when we can celebrate two birds with one stone (oy - again with the awful metaphors), we rejoice in the commonality of it all.  Alas, Number 2 Son was half a planet away this year, but Number 1 Son spent the entire day with us and it was wonderful.  A real celebration.  We even cooked the lamb on the grill out back, pretending that Spring was really upon us....

So I didn't have a chance to write my usual Sunday blog and assumed I'd absent myself until Thursday.  All sorts of fun and (fingers crossed) exciting things are around the corner and I'll be sharing them all with you.  But in the meantime, I wanted to point you in the way of a new blog by Poul Webb here.  I first met Poul at a poetry reading. He has had lots of poetry published, but he would be the first to say he isn't really a poet, but rather an artist.  His paintings are regularly exhibited in a gallery in London, and on his new website, he shows photographs, ads, paintings -- anything which seems visually interesting to him.  It's really a delight and worth checking out.

So that's enough rambling for a Tuesday morning (you can pretend that's me and Hubby taking a Spring ramble in the photo above.  Of course, it's not.  It's a photo from flickr I found, but it's pretty and we can pretend).  An in-box full of emails await.  And who knows....I might even get to do some creative writing sometime soon.

Some Lessons from a Master

I've had the flu all week so I haven't been thinking about much except which old war film I should next watch on TV.  I find them especially good to nap to.

But during my occasional glimmers of cognitive thought, I've been continuing to think about writing plays.  I thought I'd pass along these words of wisdom from David Mamet I saw the other day, courtesy of The Writers' Guild blog:
QUESTION:WHAT IS DRAMA? DRAMA, AGAIN, IS THE QUEST OF THE HERO TO OVERCOME THOSE THINGS WHICH PREVENT HIM FROM ACHIEVING A SPECIFIC, ACUTE GOAL.

SO: WE, THE WRITERS, MUST ASK OURSELVES OF EVERY SCENE THESE THREE QUESTIONS.

1) WHO WANTS WHAT?
2) WHAT HAPPENS IF THEY DON’T GET IT?
3) WHY NOW?

THE ANSWERS TO THESE QUESTIONS ARE LITMUS PAPER. APPLY THEM, AND THEIR ANSWER WILL TELL YOU IF THE SCENE IS DRAMATIC OR NOT.


Sounds like this could be applied to any genre, really, doesn't it?
And now, before I fall back into my fluish haze, I will wish you all a happy holiday, whatever you celebrate, and a reasonable April 1st: