Alex George's Blog, page 18
October 14, 2010
Is Writing Fun?
Most delightful, and surprising, was Will Self's unabashed glee at writing novels – perhaps he's being his usual brilliant, perverse self by taking a position so at odds with most of his long-suffering colleagues, for whom the very act of switching on the computer seems akin to ripping strong adhesive tape off their private parts.
It's true that when I was writing books full-time back in London, I wasn't very happy. That had nothing to do with the act of writing, though – it was to do with other stuff, like fear of impending penury, and guilt at having left my job as a corporate lawyer. Suddenly what had been a mildly glamorous hobby became an extraordinarily badly-paid job. But writing down the stories that were in my head – that was still fun.
I think many writers like to imagine that their calling has nothing to do with anything so frivolous as fun. They often claim that they have no choice but to write, as if their muse is holding a gun to their delicately perspiring foreheads. Fatuous poppycock, of course. To pretend that telling stories is some sort of unendurable burden is patent guff. I now realize that when I sit down at my computer with my cup of espresso at 5.06, ready to attack the next paragraph, I am looking forward to the next couple of hours with nothing but relish. Now, by the time I wake up the children things may not be so rosy – fifty not-very-good words in two hours will do that to you – but each morning I sit down with fresh anticipation. Writing – for me, anyway – is an endlessly renewable source of hope, and escape. And it's free. What's to moan about?
October 12, 2010
The Loneliness of a Long-Distance Novelist
People sometimes ask me what characteristic is most important for a writer to possess. I expect they're waiting for me to say that you need a felicitous turn of phrase, an outrageous imagination, an overweening ego, or something similar. Now, perhaps all of those things might help, in some shape or form, but if I had to choose the one thing that every novelist needs, I wouldn't opt for any of those.
I would say: stamina.
Writing a book, any book, is a seriously long slog. It takes up a ridiculous amount of time. You need stamina to keep getting up to face that coyly winking cursor every day, when it really would be so much easier to do just about anything else. There are so many reasons not to write – good, sensible reasons at that. You need stamina to put them all out of your head, every last one of them, and to do the work that needs to be done. Above all, you need stamina to keep on at it when things aren't going well, which will probably be most of the time.
I have spent the last six years getting up at five o'clock every morning and writing for two hours before the rest of my family wakes up. Then I go off to work. Sometimes it's been very difficult to haul myself out of bed and switch on the computer, but I did it, every day. And now I have my (rather long) book. I don't say any of this to boast. I'm just a stubborn bastard, is all. If anything, it shows you that anyone can write a book, if they're determined and bull-headed enough. By the same token, the most outrageously talented writer won't get very far if he or she can't (or won't) sit down and write, day after day after day. Progress may be measured in tiny (sometimes microscopic) increments, but it's still progress. I know that every hour I spend with my manuscript is an hour closer to its being finished.
One thing I'm sure of: these books are never going to write themselves. So, writers: are you ready for the long-haul?
October 11, 2010
Old Spice, Monster-Style
Amazing thing, the interweb.
Just because I posted a parody of the Old Spice advert and confessed my delight at a new ring tone, people have begun to send me all sorts of fun stuff related to the original idea. This one arrived via facebook this morning from my friend, Mrs. McPea. This may be my favorite yet. I think the cow gets the best line.
October 5, 2010
The Simpsons, Naked
Gratuitous headlines designed to get your attention? You betcha.
This is another post about singing. I know there are some people out there who maybe don't (yet) appreciate these little nuggets of barbershop glory, but you know what? Needs must, people. There's a whole lot of it in the book, so cowboy up, cupcakes.
Where was I? Oh yes. So, we've had a small introduction to barbershop, then a curious mash-up of close harmony singing and rap. Continuing the theme of musical boundaries being smashed, here's a group doing some astonishing stuff with the theme tune to the Simpsons. It's uncannily accurate and good fun.
October 1, 2010
Thin End of the Labrador
We always had pets growing up.
My childhood can be divided up into a succession of eras defined by the canine presence in my parents' home. First there was Sam, who was around before I was. Then came Benji. Then Sophy, and now Purdy. All labradors. All wonderful, affectionate, loyal and fabulous creatures.
My wife, on the other hand, never had a pet. Well, that's not quite true. Her parents gave her a stone dog once. And she did have a cow called Paddington – until, that is, Paddington appeared one evening at dinner, and not as a guest, if you catch my drift. (You've heard of urban myths. This is a rural myth. Except it's true.)
Anyway – that whole wonderful, affectionate, loyal and fabulous thing? My wife doesn't buy it. She thinks dogs are smelly, bothersome, hair-shedding nuisances that need to be walked in the rain.
But above all smelly.
This is why, after twelve and a half years of marriage, we have never had a dog, even though we live in the middle of the countryside.
However, for the past month or so, we have – to my astonishment, I will readily admit – had a pet in the home. (We had fish before, but they don't count. Oh, and a hermit crab painted like Old Glory, but that didn't count, either.) Here he is:
He is a rather sweet guinea pig.
There was, naturally, a debate about what to call him. I wanted to call him Jonathan Franzen, because I am hugely pretentious and also, you know, just so plugged-in to the literary world. In the end the children settled on Papa – which is suitably literary in its way, I suppose, although I've never been much of a Hemingway fan. (I know. Sacrilege, etc.) Of course, the pig's name had nothing to do with him. Papa is actually short for his full name, which is Papa New Guinea Pig. (This is the sort of geeky geography joke you get when you send your children to Montessori school.) Rather weirdly, Papa is also what the children call my father. Oh, imagine the fun we'll have next time my parents come to stay.
"I'm just going to rub Papa's tummy!"
"We need to put Papa back in his cage!"
"Papa's pooped in the corner again!"
And so on. I can hardly wait. Neither, I'm sure, can he. (The grandfather, not the guinea pig.)
Anyway, Papa is here to stay, and we love him. Some, it is fair to say, love him more than others. Hallam loves him more than anyone. Papa has given our son a whole bunch of new things to worry about – something that he probably didn't need. New vistas of worry are opening up before him every day. These were originally medical – concerns that Papa was not eating/drinking enough, had something caught in his throat, was about to suffer a heart attack, etc. Recently the emphasis has shifted to more philosophical ground – does Papa love him enough, etc. It's difficult to know what to tell him – Papa is, after all, just a guinea pig who squeaks a lot. We spend a lot of time wondering if they are happy squeaks or sad squeaks.
Anyway, he is a welcome addition to the George household. Christina seems genuinely fond of him. I'm watching it all with interest. I still want a dog. Papa is the advance guard, sent in to soften that hard heart so that she will soon adore all that is warm and furry (and smelly.) Well, I can hope.
September 27, 2010
Title Talk
Still no closer to a title for the book, although I am thinking about it an awful lot – whenever I have a spare moment, in fact. Often I forget that not everyone is as fixated about the subject as I am. This can throw up some interesting discussions, when only one party to the conversation is particpating with the benefit of any context. By way of example, may I offer up Exhibit A. Absolutely true story, this.
[Scene: driving home from family dinner out on Friday night.]
Me: (thinking about the title of my book, singers, songs, etc.) What do you think of minstrel?
Wife: (looking at me oddly) Pardon?
Me: What do you think? Of the word minstrel? To use in the title.
Wife: (glancing at children in back of car) Minstrel? Really?
Me: I don't quite know how it would work yet. Tell me the first thing that comes into your head when you hear the word.
Wife: Can't this wait until later?
Me: It's not a trick question. What's the first word that comes into your head?
Wife: (sighing) Cycle.
Me: (puzzled) Really? Cycle? (Trying to picture a chorus of men onstage) Unicycle or bicycle?
Wife: I really don't want to talk about this right now.
[We drive in silence for a while.]
Me: (trying not to sound hurt) I just thought, you know, that with all the singing, minstrel seemed appropriate. Like Nanki-Poo in the Mikado.
[Long pause.]
Wife: I'm sorry. I thought you said menstrual.
September 22, 2010
Gonnections (with apologies to Meyer Wolfscheim)
It's busy work being a writer these days. As I've observed before, it's no longer enough just to, you know, write books. You need a blog, a website, a twitter account, facebook… the list goes on and on.
Anyway, I've been a good boy and done all (or most) of these things, and I wanted to give anyone interested a brief update as to the many and varied ways you can keep track of my online ramblings. There are basically a couple of ways to do this:
Email Subscription
Probably the best and easiest way to keep up to date is to subscribe to this blog. That will mean that you'll receive an email every time I post a new blog – no need to check back in between times as it's an automatic notification. Easy for you, and you never need to worry that you'll miss a thing. All you have to do is click here:
On the next page, click where shown below and enter your email address. You'll receive a confirmation email, asking you to click on a link to confirm your subscription, and voila!
Alternatively, if you are on facebook, you can go to my Networked Blogs Page and hit the blue "Follow" square:
You'll then receive notifications of new posts on your facebook news stream. And if we're not friends on facebook, please send me a request and we can sort that out.
I know that a lot of people who follow me on facebook comment there on whatever I've posted, and that's great. However, it would be even better if you could post a comment on the blog itself, as then it gets archived here for posterity, or at least until the server pegs out.
Twitter is here to stay, and now that I have spent some time there, it's rather fun. If you tweet, please follow me there. In addition to seeing tweets about each new blog post, I also stick up a lot of other book-related stuff there. You can see the sort of drivel I tweet about in the right hand column of the website. Please feel free to re-tweet, comment, etc., etc.
Comments
We do love comments, here at AlexGeorgeBooks! (That's me and the mouse in my pocket.) Please feel free to drop me a line in the comment box at the bottom of each post. Or send me an email using the "Ways to Connect" tab at the top of the page. And, of course, feel free to share any of this nonsense with your friends, lovers, co-workers, and dental hygienist.
Thank you all for your continued readership and support. This is kinda fun.
