Sue Copsey's Blog, page 3
January 28, 2015
The Perfect Day ��� well, almost.
I spent much of last Friday nose to nose with some very friendly fish. This is my perfect day ��� gazing through a mask at the comings and goings below the waves, the waving seaweeds and colourful rocks, the shoals of fish that whizz, as one, this way and that, flashing silver in the sun.
The Perfect Day … well, almost.
I spent much of last Friday nose to nose with some very friendly fish. This is my perfect day – gazing through a mask at the comings and goings below the waves, the waving seaweeds and colourful rocks, the shoals of fish that whizz, as one, this way and that, flashing silver in the sun.
January 10, 2015
Walking the Tongariro Crossing
People had told me the low point would be the downhill slog at the end. They were wrong. The low point was when the Swiss couple in front of us started yodelling. And not in an ironic way. Mr C and I exchange horrified-but-amused glances, which faded as a second and then third verse followed. We hopped off the path for a water break.
There was no escaping the walking hordes. The first half of the Tongariro Crossing was the alpine equivalent of the Auckland Harbour Bridge in rush hour, walkers stretching ahead like a long trail of ants, along the valley and up the distant Devil’s Staircase towards the dormant volcanic cones of Tongariro and Ngauruhoe. Against the blasted landscape, they looked like little figures in a Bosch painting, groping their way towards heaven. But the magnificence of the scenery made up for the throngs – we’d never expected it to be a solitary experience. And the weather was playing ball, the deepest of blue skies providing the perfect colour-contrast for the red-streaked scoria spilling down the slopes of Ngauruhoe.
There was no escaping the walking hordes. The first half of the Tongariro Crossing was the alpine equivalent of the Auckland Harbour Bridge in rush hour, walkers stretching ahead like a long trail of ants, along the valley and up the distant Devil’s Staircase towards the dormant volcanic cones of Tongariro and Ngauruhoe. Against the blasted landscape, they looked like little figures in a Bosch painting, groping their way towards heaven. But the magnificence of the scenery made up for the throngs – we’d never expected it to be a solitary experience. And the weather was playing ball, the deepest of blue skies providing the perfect colour-contrast for the red-streaked scoria spilling down the slopes of Ngauruhoe.
November 9, 2014
The demise of publishing – what’s an editor to do?
Let’s start with a word association test. Ready?
Publishing.
What did you say? Was it by any chance “Demise”?
Yes, demise and publishing are seen everywhere together these days. As my 14-year-old would say, they are “shipped”.
Few in the publishing industry have remained unscathed by Demise, as he dashes about the place with his machete, downsizing, merging, closing down, taking the hopes and dreams of aspiring authors with him.
Demise has stalked me this year. I have survived the attack so far, but have had to adapt, like a Darwin’s finch on fast-forward. Within a year I have evolved from Pearson’s go-to schoolbook editor, forever chasing unfeasible deadlines, to what I now think of as a book midwife, gently helping book-mums and dads bring their darlings into the world. (If you have ever written a book, that analogy won’t sound so mad.)
Pearson’s US bosses shut NZ’s operation down with little warning, stating they would now focus on emerging economies. No more fabulous (and they were fabulous) textbooks for NZ kids. After the initial shock, I decided to go all US-positive-thinking and grab the opportunity to do what I’d been thinking about for a while: working directly with good indie authors, particularly children’s and YA.
Thanks to my association with another company visited by Demise – Pear Jam Books, who had published my own children’s novel The Ghosts of Young Nick’s Head – I knew a number of excellent authors left high and dry with books that needed editing. Let me let me! And they did. There were no crazy deadlines, so as a bonus I was able to get on with my own writing (and at the risk of jinxing the whole thing, I’m hoping to have some exciting news about my latest children’s novel soon. Soonish. Next year, probably. Maybe. (Stay positive, Sue, stay positive.))
So far, so good. As 2014 wore on, I started to get more enquiries via my website and the NZ Society of Authors, and through word of mouth, and now I am booking two or three months ahead. It’s a bit soon to call this my new career, but the signs are good. I love my new role, which has taken on elements of writing coach and marketing/PR adviser, as well as straightforward editor. I’ve worked on two adult thrillers and a gorgeous children’s app (so secret I had to sign a “won’t tell anyone about it” thing), as well as my more usual children’s and non-fiction books, so I’ve widened my editing experience too. “My” authors have included accountants, advertising copywriters, a librarian and a ship’s captain, whose emails said things like this: “The seas out here have gone from wild and grey to a calm, delicious blue, so you wouldn't even think it's the same coastline.” How cool is that?
My income is roughly half what it was, even with the occasional traditionally published book to work on (two this year, compared to my usual five or six), and I have just deregistered for GST, resigning myself to the fact that my turnover will never again be what it was. But I’m hoping I will muddle through, because I am loving my new editing and writing life. And with Christmas in mind, here are some of the books I’ve edited this year that are already available, and which deserve to be in your friends’ and families’ stockings (or on their ereaders). Click on the covers for more info on these titles.
Publishing.
What did you say? Was it by any chance “Demise”?
Yes, demise and publishing are seen everywhere together these days. As my 14-year-old would say, they are “shipped”.
Few in the publishing industry have remained unscathed by Demise, as he dashes about the place with his machete, downsizing, merging, closing down, taking the hopes and dreams of aspiring authors with him.
Demise has stalked me this year. I have survived the attack so far, but have had to adapt, like a Darwin’s finch on fast-forward. Within a year I have evolved from Pearson’s go-to schoolbook editor, forever chasing unfeasible deadlines, to what I now think of as a book midwife, gently helping book-mums and dads bring their darlings into the world. (If you have ever written a book, that analogy won’t sound so mad.)
Pearson’s US bosses shut NZ’s operation down with little warning, stating they would now focus on emerging economies. No more fabulous (and they were fabulous) textbooks for NZ kids. After the initial shock, I decided to go all US-positive-thinking and grab the opportunity to do what I’d been thinking about for a while: working directly with good indie authors, particularly children’s and YA.
Thanks to my association with another company visited by Demise – Pear Jam Books, who had published my own children’s novel The Ghosts of Young Nick’s Head – I knew a number of excellent authors left high and dry with books that needed editing. Let me let me! And they did. There were no crazy deadlines, so as a bonus I was able to get on with my own writing (and at the risk of jinxing the whole thing, I’m hoping to have some exciting news about my latest children’s novel soon. Soonish. Next year, probably. Maybe. (Stay positive, Sue, stay positive.))
So far, so good. As 2014 wore on, I started to get more enquiries via my website and the NZ Society of Authors, and through word of mouth, and now I am booking two or three months ahead. It’s a bit soon to call this my new career, but the signs are good. I love my new role, which has taken on elements of writing coach and marketing/PR adviser, as well as straightforward editor. I’ve worked on two adult thrillers and a gorgeous children’s app (so secret I had to sign a “won’t tell anyone about it” thing), as well as my more usual children’s and non-fiction books, so I’ve widened my editing experience too. “My” authors have included accountants, advertising copywriters, a librarian and a ship’s captain, whose emails said things like this: “The seas out here have gone from wild and grey to a calm, delicious blue, so you wouldn't even think it's the same coastline.” How cool is that?
My income is roughly half what it was, even with the occasional traditionally published book to work on (two this year, compared to my usual five or six), and I have just deregistered for GST, resigning myself to the fact that my turnover will never again be what it was. But I’m hoping I will muddle through, because I am loving my new editing and writing life. And with Christmas in mind, here are some of the books I’ve edited this year that are already available, and which deserve to be in your friends’ and families’ stockings (or on their ereaders). Click on the covers for more info on these titles.
September 1, 2014
Writing a Booktrack: Show Add sound, don’t tell
So, I’m unfeasibly chuffed at being a Booktrack/Hugh Howey competition finalist. And surprised – no, really I am. Because I know that some entrants uploaded their own music, and while I can bash out a few Coldplay numbers on the piano, I’m no Chris Martin.
Luckily for me, Booktrack already has an astonishing collection of music, ambient sounds, and sound effects available. The trick is knowing how to find the perfect tracks to convey the mood and heart of the story. And my top tip for doing that? A Thesaurus! More on that later.
I have found that, when I explain the concept of a book soundtrack to someone new to the idea, a progression of expressions tends to pass across their features: confusion–bemusement–doubt. And then you have to explain the, “But how does it know how fast you read?” business. And then the, “But isn’t it really distracting?” business.
This is all understandable – it’s a whole new way of reading, and it takes some getting used to. And if you like to read curled up in a quiet corner, the purring of the cat in your lap the only sound disturbing the silence, then the idea of music and sound effects playing along to your book may make your toes curl. And if it’s not done properly, it can indeed put you right off your reading.
But if it’s done well, it can bring a whole new dimension. It’s like the difference between a well-written book and a badly written one. With the former, you are swept along, lost in the words because they are so well put together. With a badly written book, everything jars and you can’t get into it. Similarly, a good Booktrack will just be there, in the background; you will be almost unaware of it. It could be the quiet pattering of rain as a character stares gloomily out of a window, or the gentle sound of waves breaking on a beach as two lovers walk along the sand. And then a new sound, creeping in almost unnoticed, sends your subconscious a clue that the tone of the story is about to change.
I recently compared reading one of my ghost stories (The College Street Ghost – click on these links if you’re brave enough) with and without the soundtrack, and the silent version now feels as if there’s something missing. I wrote this story specifically for Booktrack, and found I could actually leave out a phrase here and there because I was using music to convey the mood and meaning instead. Perhaps we need a Booktrack version of the “Show don’t tell” rule of writing: “Add sound, don’t tell”.
Luckily for me, Booktrack already has an astonishing collection of music, ambient sounds, and sound effects available. The trick is knowing how to find the perfect tracks to convey the mood and heart of the story. And my top tip for doing that? A Thesaurus! More on that later.
I have found that, when I explain the concept of a book soundtrack to someone new to the idea, a progression of expressions tends to pass across their features: confusion–bemusement–doubt. And then you have to explain the, “But how does it know how fast you read?” business. And then the, “But isn’t it really distracting?” business.
This is all understandable – it’s a whole new way of reading, and it takes some getting used to. And if you like to read curled up in a quiet corner, the purring of the cat in your lap the only sound disturbing the silence, then the idea of music and sound effects playing along to your book may make your toes curl. And if it’s not done properly, it can indeed put you right off your reading.
But if it’s done well, it can bring a whole new dimension. It’s like the difference between a well-written book and a badly written one. With the former, you are swept along, lost in the words because they are so well put together. With a badly written book, everything jars and you can’t get into it. Similarly, a good Booktrack will just be there, in the background; you will be almost unaware of it. It could be the quiet pattering of rain as a character stares gloomily out of a window, or the gentle sound of waves breaking on a beach as two lovers walk along the sand. And then a new sound, creeping in almost unnoticed, sends your subconscious a clue that the tone of the story is about to change.
I recently compared reading one of my ghost stories (The College Street Ghost – click on these links if you’re brave enough) with and without the soundtrack, and the silent version now feels as if there’s something missing. I wrote this story specifically for Booktrack, and found I could actually leave out a phrase here and there because I was using music to convey the mood and meaning instead. Perhaps we need a Booktrack version of the “Show don’t tell” rule of writing: “Add sound, don’t tell”.
July 4, 2014
The Ghosts of Tarawera, coming soon (ish)
The other day I did one of those Buzzfeed quizzes on Facebook – you know, where you find out what country you should really be living in, or what character you would be in Star Wars, or which famous detective you would be, or which Jane Austen hero is right for you (Captain Wentworth, since you ask … which means I must be like Anne, who was widely held by our school English class to be a bit of a drip. Oh dear). Yes indeed, timewasters all of them, but irresistible.
This particular quiz revealed that my personality type was ‘Optimist’. It was quite right. After many years in Auckland, I still hang out the washing in the middle of winter thinking no, it won’t rain today. But most optimistically of all, I continue to send my manuscripts to the ever-diminishing number of traditional publishers in New Zealand.
I have had three books traditionally published so far, one in the UK and two in New Zealand. Now that my two NZ publishers have departed these lovely shores (fools!) my manuscripts are again sitting it out in various slush piles. And if my optimism turns out to be misplaced (hang on, just need to take in that washing), then I can always self-publish.
As an editor, I work with several self-publishing authors whose books are as good as, if not better than, many traditionally published books. (Check out D.C. Grant’s Life is Tough series, Julie Scott’s Chittens series, J.L. Pawley’s Generation Icarus series, and Melinda Szymanik’s Sally Bangle, plug plug.) And having taken over The Ghosts of Young Nick’s Head when its publisher failed, I know my way around self-publishing – I love getting the lion’s share of royalties from Amazon; I love hearing that my distributor has sold out in a couple of months – but I also know how difficult it is to market and sell books, even when you’re getting great reviews and plenty of publicity. This is why I’d still prefer someone else to manage the production and marketing side of things for me, so I carry on – optimist that I am – submitting.
I sent my latest junior fiction novel, The Ghosts of Tarawera, to the publisher I thought would be a good fit, in January. I’ve heard nothing so far, but like I say, I’m ever the optimist. (Even so, six months?) Reasons for optimism (apart from natural foolishness)? The Ghosts of Young Nick’s Head spent a happy year on the shelves at Whitcoulls and is still in many other bookshops; it has an average Goodreads rating of 4.62 from 29 ratings, and the soundtracked version of the ebook I made with Booktrack is about to reach 6,000 reads, is Number 1 in their Young Readers category, and has been in the Top 10 overall since shortly after I produced it.
I’m beginning to sound boasty here, but we authors do need to share our successes if we want to be noticed. So a bit more boasty stuff in an attempt to get my new book noticed. Hello? Publishers? Read this!
I uploaded a sample of The Ghosts of Tarawera to Booktrack a few months ago, and this now has an overall rating of 5 stars from almost 600 reads. I am thrilled to bits with this feedback, and am chomping at the bit to get this book out there. I’m really excited about it – HUGELY excited, because I think it’s the best book I’ve written yet.
*Sigh* This is so not me. I usually stay hidden beneath my rock. But I believe in this book; I really want it to be published. See what you think: click here to read Chapter 1, or here for a soundtracked, particularly spooky part of the story (you’ll need to type ‘Tarawera’ into the search window).
Thanks for reading. Now click here to discover your Jane Austen soulmate.
This particular quiz revealed that my personality type was ‘Optimist’. It was quite right. After many years in Auckland, I still hang out the washing in the middle of winter thinking no, it won’t rain today. But most optimistically of all, I continue to send my manuscripts to the ever-diminishing number of traditional publishers in New Zealand.
I have had three books traditionally published so far, one in the UK and two in New Zealand. Now that my two NZ publishers have departed these lovely shores (fools!) my manuscripts are again sitting it out in various slush piles. And if my optimism turns out to be misplaced (hang on, just need to take in that washing), then I can always self-publish.
As an editor, I work with several self-publishing authors whose books are as good as, if not better than, many traditionally published books. (Check out D.C. Grant’s Life is Tough series, Julie Scott’s Chittens series, J.L. Pawley’s Generation Icarus series, and Melinda Szymanik’s Sally Bangle, plug plug.) And having taken over The Ghosts of Young Nick’s Head when its publisher failed, I know my way around self-publishing – I love getting the lion’s share of royalties from Amazon; I love hearing that my distributor has sold out in a couple of months – but I also know how difficult it is to market and sell books, even when you’re getting great reviews and plenty of publicity. This is why I’d still prefer someone else to manage the production and marketing side of things for me, so I carry on – optimist that I am – submitting.
I sent my latest junior fiction novel, The Ghosts of Tarawera, to the publisher I thought would be a good fit, in January. I’ve heard nothing so far, but like I say, I’m ever the optimist. (Even so, six months?) Reasons for optimism (apart from natural foolishness)? The Ghosts of Young Nick’s Head spent a happy year on the shelves at Whitcoulls and is still in many other bookshops; it has an average Goodreads rating of 4.62 from 29 ratings, and the soundtracked version of the ebook I made with Booktrack is about to reach 6,000 reads, is Number 1 in their Young Readers category, and has been in the Top 10 overall since shortly after I produced it.
I’m beginning to sound boasty here, but we authors do need to share our successes if we want to be noticed. So a bit more boasty stuff in an attempt to get my new book noticed. Hello? Publishers? Read this!
I uploaded a sample of The Ghosts of Tarawera to Booktrack a few months ago, and this now has an overall rating of 5 stars from almost 600 reads. I am thrilled to bits with this feedback, and am chomping at the bit to get this book out there. I’m really excited about it – HUGELY excited, because I think it’s the best book I’ve written yet.
*Sigh* This is so not me. I usually stay hidden beneath my rock. But I believe in this book; I really want it to be published. See what you think: click here to read Chapter 1, or here for a soundtracked, particularly spooky part of the story (you’ll need to type ‘Tarawera’ into the search window).
Thanks for reading. Now click here to discover your Jane Austen soulmate.
May 31, 2014
Five Ways to Have an Adventure
Hello again. Any violin players out there? A little piece of sad music if you please, because May is almost over so this is my final blog post. Okay, one, two, three and off you go … oh this is too much, pass the tissues.
For my final post I’d like to ask you a question: have you ever had an adventure? What do I mean by “adventure”? My dictionary says: “an usual or exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity.” Well let’s just skip past the “typically hazardous” part, shall we? It is perfectly possible to have an adventure without falling off something or getting lost. (I quite appreciate that you Christchurch children might be thinking, “Actually, Sue, we’ve had enough of adventures thank you very much!” Point taken. We can all do without shaky-rumbly adventures. But please do read on – my suggestions are hazard-free!) (Okay, you can stop playing the violin now. Very nice thank you.)
For my final post I’d like to ask you a question: have you ever had an adventure? What do I mean by “adventure”? My dictionary says: “an usual or exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity.” Well let’s just skip past the “typically hazardous” part, shall we? It is perfectly possible to have an adventure without falling off something or getting lost. (I quite appreciate that you Christchurch children might be thinking, “Actually, Sue, we’ve had enough of adventures thank you very much!” Point taken. We can all do without shaky-rumbly adventures. But please do read on – my suggestions are hazard-free!) (Okay, you can stop playing the violin now. Very nice thank you.)
May 18, 2014
Paddington and Me
When you grow up (don’t be in too much of a hurry – kids get better books!), you will probably find that “favourite book” means something different to you. I’ll try and explain. When I read an adult book, let’s say a cool murder mystery, I’m lost in its pages for a few days, then *poof*, it’s done … on to the next one. I can probably read it again a year later because I’ll forget the ending, however clever-surprise-plot-twisty it may have been.
But children’s books – well they’re a whole different, ahem, story. Your favourite children’s books will stay with you for life, and their characters will be your best friends forever. Mine still have pride of place on my bookshelves, along with their old-book smell, tatty pages and battered covers. They are my special friends and I won’t part with them – ever! I’m not the only one. Try asking your mum or dad what their favourite adult book is, and they’ll think for a bit and then tell you, perhaps with a smile. But ask them what their favourite book was as a child, and you’ll see them really light up as they tell you all about it.
But children’s books – well they’re a whole different, ahem, story. Your favourite children’s books will stay with you for life, and their characters will be your best friends forever. Mine still have pride of place on my bookshelves, along with their old-book smell, tatty pages and battered covers. They are my special friends and I won’t part with them – ever! I’m not the only one. Try asking your mum or dad what their favourite adult book is, and they’ll think for a bit and then tell you, perhaps with a smile. But ask them what their favourite book was as a child, and you’ll see them really light up as they tell you all about it.
May 7, 2014
March 12, 2014
Why I love Auckland
Working from home, the rhythm of my daily life has fallen into step with the school over the back fence. I hear the bell go for morning break and I put the kettle on. Next time it goes I make myself a sandwich. Finally, at 3pm, the bell tells me that my own children will be home soon. When term finishes I miss the playtime screams floating through my windows.
One playing field further on from this junior school is the senior school. Both schools have a large proportion of Pacific Island children, and this week, school groups have been using the fields and halls to rehearse for Polyfest – the Auckland secondary schools Maori and Pacific Islands cultural festival. As I sit at the computer on a blazing hot day, the sounds of drums and that ‘hoo!’ thing they do mingle with the screeching of cicadas and the whispering of the palm trees outside my window, and Auckland feels very exotic.
Yesterday evening I took my usual walk across those playing fields to one of the school halls for my Wednesday night zumba session. (Yes, a small smile on your part is allowed, I concede that I look fairly ridiculous, but you know, I don’t care, I have a lot of fun and sweat buckets, which has to be a good thing when you eat too much chocolate.) As I walked across the grass I disturbed half a dozen rosellas, and as they rose into the air their green and red feathers caught the slanting evening sunshine in a burst of brilliant colour. Onwards, and outside our hall a group of Pacific Island boys were playing their drums, twirling their clubs, stamping their feet … quite goosebumpy I was, by now.
Some parents and siblings had come to watch the boys, and as our zumba class got underway, a number of children drifted over to see what we were up to. Little heads popped round the door, then one or two sidled in. A brave one inched out from the wall into the back row and tried a few moves. A couple more joined in. Then there we were, a collection of sweaty women attempting Latin-American moves to Shakira, and behind us a row of Island children with enormous smiles and eyes to match, having a ball, wiggling their hips, giggling away.
Our zumba teacher is Romanian, and at least half of the class are Asian. As I staggered back across the field I reflected on life in Auckland. What a cool melting pot of a city it is.
One playing field further on from this junior school is the senior school. Both schools have a large proportion of Pacific Island children, and this week, school groups have been using the fields and halls to rehearse for Polyfest – the Auckland secondary schools Maori and Pacific Islands cultural festival. As I sit at the computer on a blazing hot day, the sounds of drums and that ‘hoo!’ thing they do mingle with the screeching of cicadas and the whispering of the palm trees outside my window, and Auckland feels very exotic.
Yesterday evening I took my usual walk across those playing fields to one of the school halls for my Wednesday night zumba session. (Yes, a small smile on your part is allowed, I concede that I look fairly ridiculous, but you know, I don’t care, I have a lot of fun and sweat buckets, which has to be a good thing when you eat too much chocolate.) As I walked across the grass I disturbed half a dozen rosellas, and as they rose into the air their green and red feathers caught the slanting evening sunshine in a burst of brilliant colour. Onwards, and outside our hall a group of Pacific Island boys were playing their drums, twirling their clubs, stamping their feet … quite goosebumpy I was, by now.
Some parents and siblings had come to watch the boys, and as our zumba class got underway, a number of children drifted over to see what we were up to. Little heads popped round the door, then one or two sidled in. A brave one inched out from the wall into the back row and tried a few moves. A couple more joined in. Then there we were, a collection of sweaty women attempting Latin-American moves to Shakira, and behind us a row of Island children with enormous smiles and eyes to match, having a ball, wiggling their hips, giggling away.
Our zumba teacher is Romanian, and at least half of the class are Asian. As I staggered back across the field I reflected on life in Auckland. What a cool melting pot of a city it is.
