Aly Stoneman’s

When she asked me to come along to one of these I was a bit sceptical as I couldn’t imagine anything duller than a bunch of scribes in one room with no access to a laptop. How wrong I was. I learnt more about writing in Nottingham in those eighteen months than I’d known all my life and also discovered that writers don’t wear cravats and that they can be easily bought with cheap wine and peanuts. Always good to know if you need a quick quote.

After each talk, members would ask questions and then share information about similar projects they were working on or recommend people who may be able to help. All of this networking was done in a really relaxed manner. There was no one-upmanship and card sharing through illicit handshakes, instead a genuinely supportive network with a wealth of experience between them. The talks were varied and covered everything from magazine writing to blogging but my two particular highlights were an agent and arguably the most appropriate publisher for our region, Tindal Street Press. You wouldn’t get such intimate access to these people usually and so this was more than worth the yearly membership cost of £50.

Having attended lots of writing events with Aly I’ve seen firsthand the hard work and effort that goes in to sweet talking busy people to come up and speak for BFH. It’s a job that well exceeded the 20hours per week she was contracted for and something I suspect members were not aware of. I’ve found myself like the proverbial nagging wife on such occasions, pulling faces and trying to drag her away because we’re the last ones in the building and I want to go home and put my feet up. I’m certain that the subgroups that have emerged from these social events ( journalism and fiction) are a result of these socials as it broke down boundaries and gave members a commonality.

Aly’s post came to an end because the studio needed to create a new position with a greater funding emphasis. This was pragmatic, particularly given the harsh backlash the arts is feeling as a result of government cuts. However, will a role with such emphasis on funding mean that the development of writers will become secondary or will it lead to a hierarchy whereby established writers find more work and those starting out are left with nothing? If this happens it will no longer be about writer development but writer establishment. I guess this will be answered in time and is a dilemma that similar arts organisations will be facing.

The big question for Aly, other than worrying about bills and rent, is what to do next. In an incredibly competitive industry will she be able to find a similarly challenging role or will this city become too small for her? I hope we don’t lose her. I hope I don’t lose her. The queues heading south on the M1 are congested enough as it is with Anthony Cartwright the most recent departure. As is the infliction of my ilk, all I can do is rationalise this with words. Maybe I should just let down her tyres…

To say hello to Aly pop down for her latest spoken-word event Shindig! v LeftLion, Jam Cafe, 19th Sept

Al Needham - the Devil's spawn.

Wednesday 4th August saw Scribal Gathering lose its virginity at the Nottingham Contemporary Cafe in front of a packed crowd of 150-200 people. It’s the largest audience I’ve ever seen at a spoken-word event so Aly Stoneman and I were over the moon to see people happily congregate on the floor when seating was not forthcoming.

The event took a lot of planning, largely because we had to coordinate our selected acts with both the publication of the magazine and the release of our 7th Write Lion podcast. Our objective was to create a kind of literature variety show, featuring beat poet Joe Coghlan who we predict will be massive and self-funding dramatist Rachael Pennell who writes about women written out of history. WORD! were our featured act to help promote their monthly event in Leicester and Al Needham for his irreverent humorous outlook.   

Our open mic was ridiculously talanted with Chris Lewis-Jones, Jane Bluet of DIY Poets, a pirate, Michelle ‘mother’ Hubbard, Eireann ‘I’m an American poet, get me out of hereeeeeeeeeeeeeee’ Lorsung and that lovable rogue Lord Biro (who recently stood in the Kettering elections, promising to force Kerry Katona to wear a Burka because he’s sick of seeing her mug plastered over the red tops). Unfortunately we signed up so many poets that we overran by twenty-five minutes which meant we had to axe the breaks and go straight into our featured act. Next time this happens we’ll have to insist they only do Haikus…

To give the night an added twist we’d pencilled in a game of Poetry Bingo. The idea was to to use the names on the board as a means of promoting organisations, publishers and wordsmiths in the region as well as making some silly gags. These typically included:

WORDSWORTH – Is that a daffodil or are you just pleased to see me?
HAIKU – Nothing more than a glorified status update.
SHINDIG – Our next spoken-word event, to be held on September 19th at the Jam Cafe.
JENNY SWANN – This local publisher is burning the poetry candlestick at both ends.
RUTH– Up the Oxford University creek without a Padel.
STAPLE– Something that hurts when fired into the arse and also the name of the Sneinton based publication edited by Wayne Burrows.

Unfortunately this was cut due to time constraints but it wasn’t the end of the world. Quite fortuitously, Ross Bradshaw donated two hundred copies of Sunday Night, Monday Morning which we gave out to everyone on the strict condition that they read them. ‘You’ll be tested at our next event’ was the courteous warning. People were clearly delighted at this unexpected gift and meant we had the ‘bread’ for the ensuing ‘circus’.   

For our next event at the ‘tempreh (Hockley Hustle, 23rd October) I’ve got a game of Literature Room 101 planned where authors, agents and publishers will be asked which aspects of the writing industry they’d like to see consigned into Orwell’s imaginary void. These can then be followed with a reading. I also want to make a slot for our new book reviewer Katie Half-Price who has hilarious potential but the problem is figuring out how to conceal ‘her’ identity. In my head I envisage her wearing a Bo Selecta style mask, pushed around in a wheelchair (ala Little Britain) with Pythonesque papier-mâché breasts dangling down to the floor and ‘left’ ‘lion’ tattoed in pink across her knuckles. It sounds like a lot of extra work but it will be worth it as the Art Show is coming up from London on the same day so the ‘tempreh will be swamped with press and literati.

I thought the visuals worked really well behind the acts, particularly the photo of ‘Fanny St’ which accompanied Al Needham’s ’spoken wood’. I’d like to see more specific images for the other acts as well as more work from the LeftLion artists to help promote their work. Talking of which, we need to get some T-Shirts printed. We can flog tons of these if we plan well enough and make some money which can be invested back into the night.

Overall I was delighted with the night and proud to see so many interesting people under one roof. It really felt as if we were part of something. My personal three favourite highlights were hearing Al Needham say ‘Scunthorpe is the only city in Britain with ‘cunt’ in their name’. Who’d have thought we’d get away with that in the ‘tempreh?! Secondly was someone describing LeftLion as the Viz of the East Midlands and last but not least was young Joe Coghlan asking for a hug. That’s the exact reason why we wanted to put on the event. For hugs.

Nottingham Contemporary website
WriteLion 7 podcast

The last year I have made a concerted effort to get my novel published. Firstly I had to ensure it was as perfect as possible. To do this I joined a couple of writing groups for feedback on extracts I was a little unsure of. It was the best thing I’ve ever done and really made me think about characters, dialogue and structure. So get out the garret fellow writers, the air is breathable and you don’t need a mask.

I then read some work in public, most recently at a performance workshop held by local storyteller Pete Davis at the Nottingham Writers’ Studio. People can’t hide their emotions and so this was an attempt to get honest feedback from published authors. The feedback was excellent. Then I submitted the first 50 pages to the Literacy Consultancy whose advice was fantastic. I made the necessary adjustments and then submitted for a ‘mentor’ via a scheme put forward by Writing East Midlands. Unfortunately my application wasn’t successful, largely because I underplayed how important it would be to my development as a writer. I should know better really, seeing as this is the kind of advice I spout out regularly in this blog but now serves as a curt reminder never to presume anything and that every piece of work you submit represents everything about you.

Unperturbed (you need broad shoulders as well as hardened fingertips in this trade) I was successful in winning a half-an-hour pitching slot with an agent at the Writing Industries Conference and was allocated Ollie Munson of Blake Friedmann. He was, to quote my girlfriend, ‘an absolute darling’. A soft calming demeanour, slightly shy and most importantly, someone I felt instantly at ease with. We had a chat for ten minutes about the state of literature and what writers we liked and I figured that he was delaying the inevitable rejection by avoiding discussing the three chapters and synopsis I’d submitted. But he didn’t. He liked the book and wanted to read the whole thing. We agreed a submission of the whole novel for two weeks later and I went home and read the novel for the 10,000 time and emailed it over. He promised to get back to me in May and finally got back in July. Not bad really for an agent, especially considering this period is busy with various publishing exhibitions.

I’d like to say that I sat around the house nervously biting my nails and checking my email every day, but I didn’t. Having previously had my book accepted for publication twice and then dropped on both occasions I’ve learnt it is best not to dwell on such things. You’ll know when you need to know.

An email came through from Ollie on the 6th July. I knew it was a rejection straight away because I think he’d have rung up if he was interested. An email can’t quite express excitement like a verbal conversation, not yet anyway. Naturally I was really disappointed. Not just because it meant I had to drag my body off the floor and start all over again but because I genuinely warmed to him. The world of literature doesn’t often deliver people who have a solid grounding in reality and a genuine human touch, so he’s someone I’d have loved to have worked with. He’s kindly agreed to do an online interview so that I can make LeftLion readers aware of his service, so if you’re one of the lucky b*stards that gets a publishing deal. Spare a thought…

The email read ‘I really found THIS IS ALL I KNOW to be a charming book and there was so much there I like. The writing is great, I like your central character, all things that I know are crucial to a book’s success… it also has an interesting historical value since it really does sum up what England was like at the turn of the millennium. I just wonder if we need a few more years before that era really comes back into fashion.’ . He went on to recommend an agent and publisher who he thought would like the book and reassured that ‘I really felt there was a lot to admire here and honestly, if I hadn’t enjoyed it, I certainly wouldn’t have given this reply so much thought.’ (I would have published this in full but he requested otherwise.)

I wanted to share this rejection with other writers as a reminder that you’re not alone and most importantly never to give up. It will happen, I think. Take Maria Allen, she came out of the same NTU Creative Writing Course as Niki Monaghan and has just had her book published by Tindal Street Press which has been picked as one of the Guardian’s top reads for the summer. Good things happen.

Talking of which, a few days later my girlfriend mentioned what had happened to a local publisher called Ross Bradshaw (Five Leaves) who said he’d take a look at the book. Now the waiting game starts all over again. As a publisher of Jewish culture, crime and young adult fiction it’s highly unlikely the book will be for him, but you never know. So I’m raising a glass tonight for Maria Allen’s beautiful story, to the warmth of Oli Munson, to Writing East Midlands and the Literacy Consultancy for their advice and help and to all of you writers locked away in the garret sharing this awkward meandering path. Then I’ll be turning to the gospel of Luke Brown et al.

Be direct and to the point. They want to know the genesis of your idea not every single detail. This can be done in 3-5 lines. Remember they have to trawl through hundreds of these enquiries a day.

News desks are run off their feet and poorly staffed. If you can make their job any easier, do it. Tell them you can provide hyperlinks and photographs if possible and explain exactly where you see the article fitting into the publication. Suggest a particular word count and the date you can get the copy in for. Be realistic. False promises do not bode well.

Have a unique angle, something that sets your idea apart from others. In my experience this comes from finding unique correlations and juxtaposing them together. This is an impossible trait to teach people and comes only with being well read and informed, a skill which inevitably improves with age. No wonder the government have put up the age of retirement…

A brief biog under the pitch reassures the Editor that you are competent and reliable. Alternatively this can be done in your email signature, with contact details and links to your work. If you are starting out then stating why you are so passionate about this feature and perfectly suited to write it may be enough to lure them in. Never underestimate enthusiasm because it tells an Editor that you’ll deliver the goods.

Picking up the phone is far more effective because you get to talk to someone directly which means you don’t become an anonymous email clogging up an inbox that will probably get erased due to time constraints. But you need broad shoulders for this. You may well encounter a gruff almost monosyllabic response simply because you are the hundredth call they’ve taken on the bounce. Remain calm, polite, enthusiastic and articulate. It works every time. With this in mind, print out your pitch and rehearse it.

When you ring up, mention your name in the first sentence. ‘Hi. I’m Arthur Seaton, a freelance journalist based in Nottingham’. Even if they don’t take the bait, at least your name has been stored for future reference. On a similar note, try to find out the name of the person you want to talk to before ringing up. And it goes without saying to check you’ve been put through to the right department before delivering your spiel. A lot of publications are owned by larger organisations and so numbers can occasionally be generic.

Whether email or phone, timing is pivotal. Make sure that a UFO has not landed or a madman has gone on a shooting spree because this will take up most of their attention. For example, this can account for up to 50% of all news feeds on a website as they have to keep up with developments.

I imagine email is still the favoured form of enquiry for most hacks, despite warnings to the contrary. If this is the case, bear in mind that more esteemed publications are likely to go for established writers. So if you know ‘one’ that likes your work, get them to pitch on your behalf. This may not be feasible for everyone but if you have contacts, use them.

There is of course the distinct possibility that an Editor will steal your idea and get one of his staff to follow up the article. Get over it. You probably stole your idea from a mix of articles you’d read online. But rest assured if you keep ringing up with great ideas, eventually they’ll cave in and you’ll experience that wonderful feeling that comes with seeing your name in print.

To hear the most recent Write Lion podcast featuring Alt Fiction, graphically illustrated poetry, Robin Hood and up-coming festivals see our latest Write Lion 6 podcast

The Sun focussed on Rebecca Warren’s ‘display of litter’ that ‘was picked up from the floor of her studio’ suggesting a flippant, casual uneducated piece, subtly rubbishing modern art in the process and telling us what we all like to think – it’s a load of pish made by workshy middle-class dropouts. The quote they pulled from Rebecca made her sound completely incompetent ‘for somebody it could mean one thing and for somebody else it could mean something else’. As much as I detest Murdoch’s runt of a child, you can’t help but admire the Oxbridge journos that pen these words. Absolute genius. Allowed the artist to hang herself whilst opening up the high/low culture debate without a sniffle of pomposity.

The Mail managed to hype things up to boiling point by focussing in on the ‘ripped paintings’ and ‘serial killers’, using the coveted art prize as yet another vehicle through which to scare the living shit out of the population and demand the return of the birch to restore order. But boy do they do condescension well. They managed to make Susan Philipz sound like a cross between an escaped X-Factor convict and a troll. ‘A woman known for singing through a PA system at a branch of Tesco… and under bridges’. Hilarious. And not a mention of her art.

The Guardian offering was as liberal as ever, promoting ‘culture from below’ by asking ‘Wot, no Bansky?’ and giving a more balanced appraisal. It was great fun deconstructing language and reminded me how easily you can build up a profile of someone through just a couple of carefully constructed sentences. Odd that in teaching this it suddenly hit home.

In preparation for writing their own pieces, the class wandered around the building taking notes. The corrugated panels to the exterior of the building (or the Anderson Shelter as locals refer to it) is partially covered in lace. It made me think of an old tart pissed up around town, necking back her WKD in ripped tights and mini-skirt. Then when you realise that the gallery is next door to the Pitch ‘N’ Piano, a church converted into a pub, it suddenly becomes a place where everything is trying to be something it’s not. Nottingham could be accused of a similar form of deception, thinking it can accommodate this cultural behemoth into the landscape. Whatever our interpretations, the point is there is detail everywhere. The key is finding the correlations and then putting it in a style that will appeal to a particular readership.

I should note here that the reason I am so fascinated by detail at the moment is because last week I attended the Stanley Middleton Celebration, the Booker winning Notts author who died recently. The former teacher was a master at small detail who would often ask students to look out the window and describe what they could see. ‘Look at the wind, what direction is it moving in, what’s it doing to the tress, what noise does it make, look how it’s blown that woman’s hat into a puddle, look at her reaction etc. Gawd bless him.

The main function of this blog though is not to give away free journalism workshop ideas to them that can do me out of work. It’s a test. After discussing the importance of writing a blog to gain an online presence and to discipline yourself to write, I wonder how many have checked this out – to see if I’m good to my word or simply to do a bit of prying. If you are one of my students reading this then you can successfully tick off ‘intrigue’ as one of your essential journalistic traits.