Writing Industries Conference

Last Saturday, 9th February 2008, I attended the Writing Industries Conference at Loughborough University. I wrote about my part in it in my blog last week but not about the whole shebang.

First off it was arranged by the Literature Network. They are an amalgamation of the Leicestershire, Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire literature development departments at each of their respective councils.

The aim of the conference was clear. While other conferences, events etc focus on the act of writing itself the WIC would be about the industry of writing, how to make and establish a career in it. How to make money.

The day started with a keynote speech by Stephen Booth. He’s a crime writer. Although I have to admit I never heard of him he gave a very good talk. And he was an example of his own methods. He said writers have to get out there. If people don’t know who you are, they are not going to buy your books.

(Note to self - Mark Brown mentioned a Me and Mickie James fan-club on my facebook page. After all Me and Mickie James is about a pop group and a fan-club would be a nice thing. Since then I have been thinking of getting badges made and other promotional paraphernalia. I will do this.)

(Note to others - I do like crime fiction. I have read everything by Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler, and James M Cain. In fact, The Postman Always Rings Twice is one of my favourite books, probably my favourite short book. If I had more time I would read it now.)

Throughout the day there were three sessions running at any one time. For example Careers for Writing in Television, Writing for Children, Routes into Poetry, Working in the Community, Producing Live Literature and so on.

I picked up on some good tips. For example, all scripts for the BBC go through the Writers Room. If they like your writing they will get back to you. They probably won’t produce what you send in but you might get taken on and tasked to write for Doctors, then Eastenders, then Casualty, then if you are very lucky and very good, you will get your own show.

Michelle ‘Mother’ Hubbard talked of making the change from doing performance poetry as a hobby to a profession. Getting business cards made, and acknowledgement slips, sorting out your tax.

I don’t want to write for tv as it happens or be a performance poet but I did enjoy every minute of the day. I felt alive.

Writing is a lonely thing you see so it is great to be around people even for a short time who are trying to do the same thing as you. You can go mad sometimes.

B S Johnson, a writer, railed against the publishing industry. He saw that editors, publishers, publicists, secretaries, agents, in fact everyone could make a living from writing except perhaps the writers himself.

He set up an almost unique arrangement, through force of his own will, with his publisher. He would be paid a wage in return for writing his books.

It didn’t exactly work out. He killed himself. As did Hemingway (blew his brains out), Richard Brautigan (ditto), Hunter S Thompson (ditto ditto).

Perhaps there is a book in there. The Suicidal Writers Club: Entry is Death.

But I am going off the point and work looms over me like a massive hammer.

Yesterday I considered breaking my own leg, like in Escape to Victory, or least gnawing an arm off so I didn’t have to go. You see, I wanted to say here at the computer doing my stuff. That is when I am happy, like you wouldn’t believe.

The editing is going well on The Penguin Variations and to end here is a very small snippet that I edited in today:

"Mindful that Kwong has just collapsed I go over to the kitchen area to get him a glass of water. As I turn on the tap I sense Torn and Travis behind me.

“What do you reckon?” whispers Torn.

“He looks a bit strange,” whispers Travis. “That wig looks like something from Starsky and Hutch. Whichever one had the curly black hair.”

“Starsky,” I whisper. Then I point out that as the pair of them are wearing nothing but see-through plastic they probably look a bit strange too. “Kwong is connected to Spud and Spud is connected to Caractacus and Caractacus saved all our lives so I think we should help him.”

“It would be good to give the old bird a spin,” says Travis.

“So we’re agreed then,” says Torn.

Kwong’s nods his head in thanks as I pass him the water and tell him the good news and then his eyes open wider as a figure appears at the door of the warehouse.

“Is that a penguin?” he says.

“Yes,” I say, “it is.”"

Currently reading - Light Reading, Aliya Whiteley

Currently listening to - still Elbow