Blog - Claire Scobie: Writer and Journalist

Last Seen.... How to Hook your Reader from Page One

2012-02-23T00:00:00Z

There’s nothing worse than staring at a black screen. Or thinking you have so many colourful options to begin your story that you don’t know which to choose. Here’s a few techniques to get started

A travel article needs a compelling lead: to grab the reader’s attention.

In a travel news piece the lead is often no more than 25 – 30 words. It answers the five journalistic questions — who, what, where, when and why.

In a destination story there are more options. You need to decide which is the strongest element in your story: the place, narrative, character or theme.

Narrative: based on story-telling techniques pulls the reader along.
Descriptive: evokes the place you are writing about. But don’t let this be excessive.
The dramatic plunge: lands the reader in the middle of things or in media res. Then you back-track to how you got there.
Pivotal moment.
A curious fact or anecdote or question.
Evoke an emotion: make the first sentence mysterious.
Start slowly, with more exposition—detailed description. This sets the scene and from there you go into the main story.
Some writers say no story should start with a quote. I disagree—as long as the person talking is a key character in the story.

In a travel memoir, the first line should give a clear sense of what the book will be about.

A technique I do with participants at my travel memoir classes (last call for this weekend’s Sydney course) is to read the first lines of a few books.

Here’s three.

‘I wish Giovanni would kiss me.’ Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything by Elizabeth Gilbert.

‘January. The year began with lunch.’ A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle.

‘I arrived in the Alice at five a.m. with a dog, six dollars and a small suitcase full of inappropriate clothes.’ Tracks by Robyn Davdison.

Straight away you hear the writer’s voice. You know whether it will be serious or humorous.

A good first sentence will establish the tone of the story. It will often introduce the narrative thread or the strongest theme running through the book.

Of course you’re unlikely to get it first time. If it’s a longer piece, or a whole book, it will probably change. Often when you’ve done the whole story, you realise that the beginning actually starts in para (or chapter 3 or 4). You’ve got to be bold enough to cut the first two.

It’s normal to take a while to warm up.

When you start you think you need all this backstory. But you don’t. If the reader is curious, then they’ll want to find out more.

One piece of advice: don’t start a travel story at the airport. Or even on the plane. That comes later. Get us to the destination first!

Over to you, how do you begin your stories?

Last Seen.... To Blog or Not to Blog

2012-02-16T00:00:00Z

Recently two people asked me the same question. ‘I want to write a book, but should I bother and do a blog instead? Or do both?’ I thought it was a subject worth unpacking.

In those situations, I always ask: How much time do you have to devote to your writing? We all have a well of creativity and if you draw too deeply, it can run dry. Blogs can be a big timesuck. You can easily spend several hours on your blog rather than devoting time to your memoir or finishing a travel article. And having a whizz-bang blog doesn’t equal a publishing deal. In fact, it can (occasionally) work against you.

At one of my workshops last year I heard a story about a travel writer who blogged excessively about his amazing journeys. When he came home, he pitched a book proposal to an Australian publisher. Initially keen, in the end they didn’t run with his book because he’d told too much of his story online.

Ask yourself some crucial questions on why you are setting up a blog

To give yourself a platform?
To earn money?
To travel the world?
Who is your audience: friends or family?
Are you serious or part-time?
What is your point of difference?

Travel blogs started out as online diaries: simple, straightforward and non-commercial. They were the next step up from round-robin emails.

Entrepreneurial travellers like Barbara Weibel turned this idea into a full-time vocation. A fifty-something American, Barbara turned her back on a job she disliked to follow her heart. Now she travels the world writing about culture and people at holeinthedonut.com. Hugely prolific, she publishes a photo a day and her thousands of followers ‘travel with her vicariously.’

Then there’s the gazillions of online travel guides & information sites out there. These usually focus on a particular place / follow a theme. i.e how to travel with ageing parents, how to couch-surf across Europe.

I’ve mentioned nomadicmatt.com before. He started out with backpacking tips and now uses his blog to fund his travels. He also has a useful e-book on How to Make Money with Your Travel Blog.

Gary Arndt also travels non-stop & tells the world about his adventures at everything-everywhere.com. All these blogs make money from advertising and sponsorship. Gary also sells his photos.

But money isn’t the only reason to blog. Writers who have published book will often use blogs as a way to self-promote and build a following.

Walter Mason, author of the delightful Destination Saigon (you’ll hear more from Walter soon), is a great example of a blogger who’s also savvy with social media. The two go hand-in-hand. Using Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Tumblr—to name a few—will expand your networks and build a conversation with your audience. His blogs are personal and reflective of his keen interest in Vietnam and spirituality.

Alexis Grant started off writing about her travel memoir, a story of ‘a journalist who backpacks solo through Africa.’ Now she’s expanded into a social media strategist and offers online courses on ‘How to Make your own Luck.’ Plus she offers lots of writing tips and gives a weekly round-up of other websites worth following. (Thanks Patty for putting me on to her!)

What’s exciting about blogging is you can make it whatever you want. You can be personal or keep it professional. You can upload photos, videos – make it a vlog — & do podcasts. Check out Indietravelpodcast.com for more information on podcasts.

But with over 100 million blogs out there, the more focused, the better. If you decide you want to blog and write, just be strict with how much time you actually spend blogging.

And enjoy the ride!

For those in Sydney, my next weekend travel memoir workshop is 25/26 February at the Sydney Writers Centre.

Last Seen.... Learning to Love my Kindle

2012-02-09T00:00:00Z

© Dmitry Lobanov

It’s taken a while for me to get close to my Kindle. Nine months in fact. (Hopeless I know.) But now we’re good friends. Many people I meet are still shocked I have crossed to the dark side of e-books. So I thought I’d share my reasons why.

What I love

It’s size, shape and weight. The fact that you can lie down and read and turn the pages with a click of a button.
It’s great for travelling. You have a whole library in your handbag without adding any kilos to your luggage. And, it fits in all my handbags.
I’m a serial reader. On a kindle I can be reading three or four books simultaneously depending on my mood.
The downloads are instant. I don’t have to a) wait three weeks if I order online b) stop what I am doing to go and find the book I want.
The books are cheaper: most are less than $5. Many of the classics are free.
Having a kindle means I’m not a luddite, but a writer and reader who’s embraced the brave new world of e-publishing.
I can highlight notes as I read rather than have all my books covered with mini-post-its.
The fact the kindle isn’t backlit is an advantage: you don’t feel like you are reading from the screen which is kinder on the eyes.

What I don’t like

Now, call me old fashioned, but the kindle doesn’t feel like a proper book. So while I use it for work-related books, where I tend to skim, if I want to savour a decent travel memoir then I need the real thing. (Funnily enough, someone told me recently that she’s the opposite. Now she skims paper backs but for a proper read, uses her kindle.)
I daren’t use my kindle in the bath and that’s where I read all my favourite books.
Lots of books I want aren’t available. But Last Seen in Lhasa is coming soon. I’ll keep you posted.
I know many independent bookstores are closing down because of more people like me a) buying from Amazon b) no longer buying books.

And, now that I’ve got an i-Pad (more on that when I’ve mastered some decent writing apps) the kindle is already looking rather quaint and old-fashioned…

So, do you kindle?

For those in Sydney, my next weekend travel memoir workshop is now 25/26 February at the Sydney Writers Centre.

Last Seen.... Trusting Your Own Voice

2012-02-02T00:00:00Z

I’ve written about finding your voice before but this week I want to investigate it further. Voice is one of those hard-to-pin-down terms that writers and readers and critics bandy about. We’re always told to find our own voice. Make it distinctive. Make it unique.

But what does that actually mean? And how do you get there?

Last year I went on a very serious writerly retreat organised by the Writing and Society Group at the University of Western Sydney. For three days, writers and scholars talked in-depth about craft. One of the presenters, Dr Tony Macris gave this technical definition of voice.

‘It is the process of enunciation: the flow. It is the subjective feeling of writing, it is the flow of thought and converting it into language.’

What’s great about this description is the word ‘flow’. Voice is the way we communicate what’s going on inside of us—that constant movement of ideas, beliefs and thoughts—with the world outside. Of course we do this through language. But we also do it through intention.

People sometimes say to me, ‘If only I could write the way I talk.’ Often, when we convert our thoughts into words on the page something gets lost. Or it doesn’t come out the way we want.

This is where intention is important. To keep coming back to what it is you are really trying to say. And HOW you want to say it.

So you have an idea. You want to write about the most perfect day of your holidays. Your intention is to capture that perfection in words. Write that at the top of the page in bold.

Then allow yourself to get into the flow of remembering the day. Reflect on the senses. Evoke taste, touch… you know the deal. Make some notes without editing or censoring yourself. As you settle into a rhythm, allow more impressions and memories to surface.

Once you’ve written a page or so, pause and re-read your intention: to capture the perfection of that day. Have you done that yet? Keep that as the focus as you write some more. It may be one single moment—converted into a single sentence in your piece—that will nail it.

You won’t always get it on your first take. Writing is a process of discovery. Each time you write, you spiral deeper. Your voice becomes more assured. You words on paper begin to reflect how you think and how you truly want to share yourself with the world.

Feel free to share your voice below!

For those in Sydney, my next weekend travel memoir workshop is now 25/26 February at the Sydney Writers Centre.

Last Seen... Renewing our New Year's Writing Resolutions

2012-01-25T00:00:00Z

January has almost gone and in life’s busyness, I wonder how many of those good intentions to write have slipped…

Rather than come up with all the sensible reasons to write (there are lots of blogs that do that), I want to share advice from author Natalie Goldberg. Over the break I devoured her classic Writing Down the Bones. It shouted at me to write for writing’s sake – not to get published or show off or as a career. It inspired me to write without a destination.

She calls it ‘Writing as a Practice’. Like running, ‘the more you do it, the better you get… You practice whether you want to or not… You train your mind to cut through and ignore your resistance.’

Most runners don’t expect to complete a marathon first go. But there’s a myth that if you write, the muse will instantly come. Occasionally that happens. Most of the time, you need space and time. So if you haven’t written much before, it’s tough completing a full-length travel memoir or novel. Take small steps before you attempt longer strides.

Goldberg encourages her students to ‘write the worst junk in the world’. On bad days I just give myself permission to write s**t. It’s counter-intuitive. If I have no expectations, then I’m more likely to surprise myself. Above all, it gets me clacking the keyboard.

Her personal guideline is to finish one notebook a month. Her ‘ideal’ is to write every day. When she writes in her journal, it’s her way of warming up and flexing her muscles. She’s doing it for herself, not to get published. She’s doing it as practice.

A committed Zen Buddhist, Goldberg’s all-embracing attitude is infectious: you want to start scribbling straight away. Here, writing is a form of meditation, a dance, a way of life.

‘It’s a place that you can come to wild and unbridled, mixing the dream of your grandmother’s soup with the astounding clouds outside your window. It is undirected and has to do with all of you right in the present moment.

Sit down right now. Give me this moment. Write whatever’s running through you.’

Over to you. What makes you write?

If you need encouragement and you’re in Sydney, join me for my next five-week travel memoir course starting next week, on 31st January. I also have a weekend workshop on 4 & 5th February. Both are at the Sydney Writers Centre.

Last Seen.... How to get Back to Writing after the Holidays

2012-01-19T00:00:00Z

It’s that time of year, in Australia at least, when the summer holidays are drawing to close. It’s also the time to make juicy New Year resolutions (more on that next week). I certainly have a few. One is to keep up with my blog… whatever else is going on in my life ☺

I’ve certainly struggled over the past week to get my brain back into gear and crack on with my novel. Yes, it’s still not finished. Here are some things I’ve found helpful.

If you’re itching to get back to writing, but, like one friend, still have the kids at home… Try this.

Before you start a mundane cleaning task, consciously think about what you want to write. Fold the washing AND think how to advance the story. As ideas come, jot them down; send the kids outside and write for 15 minutes.

I know it doesn’t sound much, but it all adds up. It will help the project percolate in your subconscious, making it easier when you do get back to writing.

If you’re at your desk and don’t know where to start, re-read the last thing you wrote. After a break, you’ll often be positively surprised. Enjoy re-acquainting yourself with your work.

Give yourself a bite-sized task:

Edit one page.
Re-write two paragraphs.
Write a fresh introduction.

Expect your brain to be woolly on the first day and know it will get easier.

If you’re starting a new project, make a list of tasks or do a quick mind-map. Some writers like to start several word documents with a title on each page. This helps them get over that fear of staring at a blank screen.
If you’re still stuck, read one of your favourite travel memoir writers. Then, copy out, word for word, a paragraph you love. Look at the rhythm of the sentence, how the verbs function. Get back in touch with the nuts and bolts of writing.

Then, try this exercise.

Find an object related to your travels. Spend six minutes writing intuitively about it. Random words, thoughts, whatever. Don’t censor yourself.

For the next fifteen minutes, use the object to write a scene related to travel.

Describe the object in detail. Pick it up and hold it. How does it make you feel?

Write down as much of its history as you know. What memories does it store? Where did it come from? How did it come into your possession?

In this second section use the object as a way to trigger reflection and anchor your memories.

Inspired? Want to write more?

My first five-week travel memoir course in Sydney starts on 31st January & I have a weekend workshop on 4 & 5th February. Both are at the Sydney Writers Centre. Hope to see you there!

Last Seen... How to Edit a Travel Article

2011-10-07T00:00:00Z

I’ve written about how to edit book-length pieces of work but this post covers how to cut a travel article.

These days it’s rare to get a commission for more than 1200 words. So, say, you have written 2,500 words and your brief is 800 words. How to shave off all those extras?

Firstly, a tip on process. Always save earlier drafts of your story before you cut. That way, if you edit something that you later want, you can retrieve it. I suggest numbering your drafts like this #1, #2 as they are easier to file electronically. You can also date them.

It’s often easier to edit by printing out a copy of your story. This is time-consuming but until you get used to on-screen editing, it’s more effective. Print it out double-spaced, boil a brew, and choose a favourite red pen/pencil. Make corrections and cross through words on the hard copy. Then, start a new draft on your computer and type in the changes.

As you read your story Follow the Writer’s Mantra: How does this Sentence Advance the Story? If it doesn’t, it can probably go.

What can you cut?

Colour. This covers descriptions, adjectives, flowery turns of phrase. i.e ‘The dolphins leapt through the foaming waves, sunlight glinting on their silvery backs,’ can become ‘the dolphins leapt through the waves’.
In travel writing there’s a tendency to repeat descriptions of birds/trees/landscape/people. Often you only need a flavour of where you are visiting. Choose a couple of your best descriptions and lose the rest.
Personal anecdotes. Although travel journalism is written from the first-person point of view, the ‘I’ in a story can often dominate. ‘I was feeling sleepy as the sun rose over the plains’ can become ‘The sun rose over the plains.’
Turn passive verbs into active verbs.
Find quicker ways of describing something. i.e ‘The man walked fast’ can be ‘The man sprinted’.
Re-structure your paragraphs. If you have brief (thumb-nail) descriptions of your ski instructor dotted throughout the story, group into one paragraph.
Quotes. You can always pare back a quote. You only need a fragment to convey a sense of character.

Lastly, lose attachment to your words. Kill your darlings! The more precious you are, the harder it is when you are ruthlessly edited.

If you have a word limit, stick to it. Remember that when you edit your own work, you get to choose what stays in. This, in itself, is empowering.

Thoughts?

P.S For my Sydney readers, my last 5-week travel memoir course for 2011 starts next Wednesday 12th October at the Sydney Writers Centre.

Last Seen... How to Write a Winning Proposal

2011-09-16T00:00:00Z

It’s taken me a bit longer to get there, but here are my tips on how to write that outstanding proposal.

Firstly, writing and re-writing a proposal can take several months. Whether you pitch to a publisher or an agent, you usually only have one shot, so make it your best.

Your proposal sells your book idea and you as the author. Use the proposal to show off your writing, so the reader gets a sense of your voice as well as your story.

It requires considerable planning, market research and forethought. You need to persuade whoever reads it that:

your book stands above the crowd
has commercial potential i.e will sell several thousand copies
why you rather than someone else is the right person to write this book
why the publisher you’ve approached should publish it.

CONTENTS OF THE PROPOSAL

1. THE OUTLINE

This is an overview of the entire book and sells the concept. It can be up to five/six pages long (double-spaced). It will answer how your book will benefit readers. i.e how does it tell the world about India in a way that no other writer does. What is the book’s unique contribution? How have you told the story in an original way?

In the outline you can also say what sort of book it is: i.e a pocket-sized guidebook or an average paperback. How many pages? Most travel memoirs are around 200 – 250 pages.

You can also mention how far into the manuscript you are. Do you still have more trips to do? Or is it written? What is the date you expect to finish?

Conclude with something compelling about your book. Make the reader want to know more.

2. YOUR BIOGRAPHY

This needs to emphasise how your life experience has given you the tools to write this book. This is generally written in the third-person. i.e as ‘he/she’ not ‘I’. Although if you want to be more informal, you can write as ‘I’.

3. MARKETING INFORMATION

Here you spell out why you think your book will sell, how it differs—or is similar—to other titles on the market. Include any books in competition to yours and after briefly describing them, emphasise your point of difference.

Show how your book fills a niche. i.e when I put my proposal together for Last Seen in Lhasa, I mentioned that it was similar to Tibet, Tibet by Patrick French because it was written with authority, but that my story was more personal and about a friendship between two women. In my case I chose Tibet, Tibet because it had recently been published and was selling very well.

Indicate your target audience. If your book is about mountaineering, find some stats on how many Australians belong to mountaineering groups. The more different groups you can identify who will read your book, the more likely the marketing department will say yes. Don’t be afraid to put together a solid marketing plan with graphics, figures and charts if that’s your style.

If you already have a following through your website or database, spell out the numbers. If you know people who can endorse your book, say so.

4. BREAKDOWN OF CHAPTERS

Give a brief detailed description of each chapter in a paragraph or two. Include snappy chapter headlines if you can. If you are putting together a proposal for a business book, it’s fine to use lists or bullet-points. For a memoir, it’s important to show the narrative quality of your writing.

5. SAMPLE CHAPTERS

Include no more than three sample chapters, up to 10,000 words (although around 5,000 words is usually okay.)

6. PRESS CLIPPINGS

Include any relevant press clippings about you and your work.

7. COVERING LETTER

Make your covering letter brief. Ensure all your contact details are there. Simple, but easily overlooked!

Ensure it looks professional. Read any guidelines on the publisher’s website about how they like proposals presented: usually it is double-spaced, sometimes they ask for an sae.

Get it proof-read by someone you trust.

Lastly, send it to the right editor/publisher—someone who commissions non-fiction books.

Phew! No wonder it took me a couple of weeks to get to this post.

Any other advice, feel free to comment.

Last Seen... Writing for Healing

2011-09-01T00:00:00Z

Ask anyone who writes regularly in a private journal why they do it, and they usually say, ‘because it makes me feel better.’ I’ve written a diary since I was nine. When I was growing up I did it every night. These days it’s more haphazard, but when I’m struggling with a personal or professional issue, I make time to sit and write.

For years I’ve been fascinated why writing helps. So I’ve delved deeper and have come across some interesting scientific research on how writing regularly improves mental and physical wellbeing, increases the body’s immune system, reduces the number of visits to the doctor and lessens the impact of trauma.

James Pennebaker from the University of Texas in Austin is a pioneer in this field. He’s conducted several studies with people ranging from college students to prisoners, crime victims to chronic pain sufferers.

Here are some of his key findings from just one of his articles, Forming a Story: The Health Benefits of Narrative.

Writing for 15 minutes over the course of three days improves mental and physical health.
Those who benefit most use ‘a high number of positive-emotion words and a moderate amount of negative-emotion words’.
By writing about an emotional experience, people integrate the experience better.
The physical act of writing ‘allows disturbing experiences to subside gradually from conscious thought’.
Expressive writing helps in romantic relationships.

And here are a few more reasons of my own:

Storytelling is an innate human ‘gene’. As we make sense of our world through narrative, we also make sense of our own lives.
By writing, we externalise feelings on to the page. When you do that, you literally write out your pain or grief. In time, you are able to distance yourself from the event.
Journaling is a way to be your own therapist. All you need is pen and paper. You may like to invest in a beautiful handmade diary or you might prefer a simple bound notebook. What’s important is that you give yourself permission to write as often as you need to and carve out the time to do it.

There’s much more to say on this. If you happen to be in Byron Bay this weekend, I’m running a workshop Writing to Heal, Writing to Inspire on Saturday 3rd September and there’s still a couple of places left.

How does writing help you navigate through your life?

P.S I haven’t forgotten about the post on writing that winning proposal. Next time.

Last Seen... Publishing Tips

2011-08-19T00:00:00Z

It can be a lonely road to the top. This week is a round up of publishing tips. Next post, I’ll focus on how to write a winning proposal.

Traditional Publishing

This requires a decent proposal sent to an agent or direct to a publisher. If you are sending to a publisher, ensure you have the correct name of the editor who publishes non-fiction/travel memoir. You can often find names of agents/editors in the acknowledgements of other travel memoirs. Pick half-a-dozen of your favourites and start there.
Agents' and publishers' contact details can be found in the Australian Writers Marketplace. Read their submission guidelines carefully.
Allen & Unwin still publish travel memoirs regularly and offer the Friday Pitch. Essentially you email them a short synopsis and the first chapter of your work. If they like what they read, they will get back to you within a fortnight. This is for fiction and non-fiction.
If you go down this route, or you approach any publisher directly, make sure your writing is as good as it can be. Ask friends for critical feedback or get professional advice. Normally you only have one shot with a publisher.

Self-publishing

For a full discussion on the pros and cons, check out American agent Rachelle Gardner’s recent post. Remember that she’s talking about the American market which is much bigger than the Australian. In Australia, if you sell 10,000 copies, that’s considered a success. Still, there are interesting ideas in the discussion.
If you want to go down the self-publishing route, the Australian Selfpublishing group consider themselves ‘cooperative self publishers’ and have book stands at the London and Frankfurt book fairs. They are currently looking for submissions for the 2011 October fair in Frankfurt.

E-books

E-books are another option worth exploring, especially if you want to use your travel memoir as a ‘calling card’ to get other work. Both self-publishing and e-books are often popular among business authors who sell their books at seminars or workshops.
I published my first e-book Secrets of Travel Writing last year. Despite no marketing, I sell several a month (cost $17.95) to customers all over the world. I plan to expand on this and write several others once I finish my current major book project.
You can also publish your e-books through Lulu, which claims to be the global leader in self-publishing. This is a one-stop-shop for publishing, marketing and distribution.
Then, of course, there’s Amazon. You can find e-books on every topic on Amazon Kindle e-books. Many are free, most cost no more than $5.
If you’re based in Sydney and want to find out more, Sydney Writers Centre run seminars on self-publishing and Amazon e-books. I’m planning to go myself. Otherwise, there’s plenty of advice online.
If you do go down the self-publishing route, you must think how to build your online platform and how to promote your book. Marketing is key. Novelpublicity offers lots of services to do just that.

Anyone out there got a success story? Feel free to share.

Last Seen... Revising Effectively

2011-08-13T00:00:00Z

Last week I printed out the not-quite-there-yet manuscript of the book I’m working on. I’ve been trying to get to the end of it for months. I can see the end in my head shining like a beacon at the end of a very long road. I can’t make it there on the page.

My current project is a novel. That’s a big leap for a journo and non-fiction writer like me. But why I decided to try my hand at fiction is another story.

This week I want to talk about how to revise and re-read your work. With a long-term project it can be hard to get perspective unless you put it aside for a while. But I was so determined to get to the end of the whole draft that I ploughed on.

Then, life intervened. A few weeks ago we moved house and this forced me to stop writing. Several days into the manic packing and unpacking I realised that for the first time this year I wasn’t thinking about my book every day (yup, obsessive I know).

For the next three weeks I didn’t touch the novel. Then I took a deep breath and printed out everything I’d done: the bits I think do work and the chunks I know don’t. But before I started re-reading (and I cleared 2½ days just to go through part 1) I set the parameters to know what I was reading for.

That might sound odd but it’s really helpful to do this before you revise any big piece of work. It can be overwhelming to try and tackle everything in one go.

So here are a few tips on effective revising:

Use different colour pens or pencils to highlight different aspects.
In your first read, look for issues of narrative drive that need fixing. Think about pacing. Where does the writing rush ahead, where does it drag? Does the whole story hang together?
Think about the themes and the narrative arc.
In your next edit, carefully read your descriptions and examine each character. Do the characters lift off the page?
Then see if you’ve anchored the place you are describing.
Next get down to the nitty gritty. Are your verbs consistent?
Have you repeated some words many times? If so, reach for your Thesaurus and find a new word—le mot juste. This is diction. The right word will have the exact meaning; it will sound correct and look right on the page.
Then think about the structure of your sentences—the syntax. Vary long with short sentences.

You see, there’s a lot to think about. Ensure a large supply of tea or coffee on hand, and at the end, cake.

How do you revise?

Last Seen... Choosing the Direction

2011-07-29T00:00:00Z

Last week I wrote about creating scenes. This week I’m looking at how you can change the affect within scenes by shifting the focus.

When you take photos, you automatically change camera angles. Sometimes you want a wide shot of padi fields to give an overview, or a close-up of a woman’s hand picking rice for detail. Or perhaps you are taking a group of people and you want to have them in the foreground, with the busy market behind.

This is the same with writing. As the narrator you have to make constant choices about what you choose to focus on, which angle you decide to take. If you write from the same angle then the writing can be flat. It’s as if the story is told from one plane, without shades of dark and light.

Similarly you need to think about what parts of your story you want to foreground, and what to leave in the background. The clearer you are on your major storyline, the easier it is to make these decisions.

A good way to start practicing is to think how you capture a new place. In Michael Wood’s The Smile of Murugan, about his journeys through Tamil Nadu in south India, he describes arriving in the town of Chidambaram on the eve of the Divali festival.

There was a fog enveloping the town and he writes, ‘everything appeared hazy and indistinct…. Fireworks thumped and cracked [and] acrid smoke hung in the air like a tropical bonfire night.’

Then he describes seeing ‘the pyramids of the temple towers rear up black against the cloud-filled night sky’. He steps into the temple courtyard ‘to where huge silver-studded doors open into the interior down a granite stairway. At the bottom a forest of columns went off into the darkness.’

Filled with plenty of sensory descriptions—the smell of the smoke and the sound of the firecrackers—Wood leads you step by step into the temple, which is at the heart of the town. This is a great way to capture the essence of the place itself.

He moves from the wide angle of the foggy indistinct outskirts, to a medium-long shot of the temple. He then zooms in on a close-up of the columns disappearing and finally ends with an extreme close-up: ‘Camphor burning at the foot of the columns created the illusion that the stone was somehow magically on fire.’

So next time you write about a place, imagine your pen is like a camera. Then, when you come to write longer scenes, use the same approach.

Thoughts?

Last Seen... Creating Scenes

2011-07-22T00:00:00Z

Many travel memoir books borrow techniques from fiction. Paul Theroux was one of the first to make extensive use of dialogue in his 1975 bestseller The Great Railway Bazaar. This helped launch the genre of the modern first-person travel narrative. These days travel writing can crossover into many other genres: geo-political, spiritual or historical. It’s flexibility means it keeps re-inventing itself and remains a popular genre among publishers.

But it’s this very flexibility that can be tricky to master. In my travel memoir workshops (and I have another 5-week course starting next Wednesday 27th July at the Sydney Writers’ Centre) I teach how to structure the longer form narrative. One aspect I explore is how to write scenes. Just like travel memoir borrows from fiction, fiction borrows from film. Any movie is made up of a series of scenes.

Why are scenes important?

They allow you to externalise the action.
They force you to show, not tell.
They change the pace.
They allow the reader to visualise what’s happening, rather than you telling them.
They break up large chunks of description.

In films, sometimes scenes are put together in a sequence so you have scene—summary—scene. This is the same in writing.

How to write a sequence:

You can make scenes very brief and then bridge them with an equally brief summary of only one or two lines. This advances the narrative and is a way to tell a smaller story within a wider plot.

So in the example below, I mix dialogue with summary or narration. I also include a moment of interior thought when I turn the lens inwards. In only a few lines I cover three separate incidents. By using dialogue I immediately bringing the story into the present moment.

‘My purse has been stolen,’ I shouted. As I turned round, I saw a young man fleeing through the crowded palazzo. I started to give chase. An older man with dark glasses pulled me back. ‘If you follow him down the alley, he’ll take more than you’re purse,’ he warned.
A week later I returned to the palazzo and saw the same older man talking to the thief. They’re in cahoots, I thought.
That night, at my hotel, an American tourist was sobbing at the reception. ‘They took everything,’ she said.

Next week I will look at how you can change the direction of scenes.

Thoughts?

Last Seen... Finding a Voice

2011-07-07T00:00:00Z

Last week I talked about how useful it is know your audience and hone your voice for a specific publication.

Travel articles are often seen as easy but they’re surprisingly difficult to write. You need to balance practical information, anecdotes and a few facts and figures, with literary description. The voice is generally more informal than for a feature article because it’s personal and written from the first-person point of view.

For a travel memoir, there are many more voices to choose from. Yes, everyone’s written about the cafes of Paris or the beaches of Bali, but how you tell the story—how you choose to narrate it—can make an old tale sound new. Simply put, the narrator is the voice of your story.

Voice is the combination of:

Style – what words you choose, how you structure your sentences and paragraphs
Personality of the author
Tone – this includes mind-set, opinions, feelings and attitude behind the words.

It often takes time to find your own voice (and if you want to explore it further, sign up for my upcoming five-week travel memoir course at Sydney Writers' Centre which starts on 27th July) . While there is a cross over between styles, it helps to ask, is it conversational or formal, intimate or lyrical? If you’re genuinely funny, write humorous prose. If you’re reflective, go for depth. It’s much easier to write in a way that is natural and aim for consistency to give your narrative a smoother feel.

At the moment I’m reading (and loving) Geoff Dyer’s Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi. It’s a novel but the second half, set in Varanasi, reads like travelogue. Dyer’s tone and language reflects the narrator which he has cultivated to tell this story. In another book, he may have a very different voice. The narrator is funny, outrageous, dark and occasionally, sublime. His voice crackles with energy and slips between poetic phrases, conversation and personal revelation. Swearing, slang and informal patter are all fair game, so too are invented words, repetition and colloquialisms for used for emphasis.

Here he is talking about Varanasi.

‘The action on the road was first matched and then exceeded by what was happening on either side of it, by the blare and frenzy of display, of frantic buying and selling, loading and unloading… Everything was piled up. Everything was excessive. Everything was brightly coloured and loud, so everything had to be even brighter and louder than everything else. So everything blared. There was so much of it all, blaring so loud and bright, that it was impossible to tell exactly what this everything was made up of, what it comprised. It was a totality of bright, noisy, blaringness…’

Like, dislike? Let me know—and how did you find your voice?

Last Seen... Knowing your Audience

2011-06-30T00:00:00Z

It’s a funny thing but when we talk to people we always adapt what we’re saying to suit the person and topic. Yet often, when we write, we don’t adjust to the same degree. This is especially true when we’re emailing. Haven’t we all sent off quick emails (or tweets) and afterwards cringed when we re-read them?

Before you sit down and write it’s essential to think about your audience. I should clarify here. If you’re doodling in your travel journal, which has ‘private’ stamped all over it, then chances are you’re doing it for yourself and it doesn’t matter what or how you say it.

But as soon as you’re writing publicly or professionally, or for an audience of one, it affects how you write and the choice of words you use.

Last week I attended a workshop run by Suzanne Eggins, a linguistics expert in both academic and government fields. She made a useful point on how to adapt your writing to suit your audience. To paraphrase, if you’re writing a report which will be read by experts in the same field, you can assume the reader is similar to you, that’s ‘like writing for like’. You probably won’t need to explain every term as the reader will understand the technical aspects and the nitty-gritty. Ideally how you frame your argument and your material will match the audience’s expectations.

If you’re writing a travel story, your readership is more general. That’s why I always encourage newbie writers to study the magazine or newspaper they want to write for. Get to know the readership, work out their travel aspirations, see what trends editors love or loathe. The better you know the audience, the more likely your pitch will hit bull’s eye—and your story will make the cut.

With a blog, it’s harder to know who’s going to read it. The more focused it is, the easier to write—and the more likely you’re going to get a following. A friend recently asked advice on how to write about deep ecology issues. She wants to reach out to a wider audience and not just write for the converted.

I suggested she do interviews with experts in the field who can give bite-sized chunks of advice on how to live a more sustainable life—simple changes that busy people can make to their daily routines. Rather than adopt a lofty tone, she’s going to write it as if she’s chatting with a friend over a cup of chai in a Glebe café. Yes, you guessed it, once you’re clear on your audience, you often find clarity with your voice.

But more on voice—that illusive term that writers always talk about in hushed tones—next week.

Over to you. How do you write for your audience?

Last Seen… Feeling Confident

2011-06-16T00:00:00Z

A reoccurring theme in my writing workshops among participants is that what they have to say, or want to say, isn’t interesting to other people. How many times have I heard this sort of comment (usually slightly plaintive):

‘I don’t think anyone will care about my story’ or

‘What I’m saying has been done before’ or

‘I feel like a cliché.’

Firstly, you’re in good company. I’ve said exactly the same to friends and to myself. I now understand the attraction of fiction. If exciting things don’t happen to you, make it up. Invent. Imagine.

But here I want to stick to non-fiction, whether it’s travel or memoir or life-writing.

Firstly, questioning what you write is important. If you have written 10,000 words about one morning on a river boat in Bangkok, which is essentially navel-gazing; or you’ve written a story which runs along the lines of… ‘And then I got up and had a shower, ate cereal for breakfast, emailed my friends back home etc.’ Well, you’re probably right. This won’t be scintillating.

Too much inner rumination can be tedious. All of those abject naturalisms (that’s the posh term for describing minute details of real-life action) will slow a story down.

But that isn’t to say you haven’t got an interesting story to tell.

Secondly, our tendency is to self-doubt. I was at a school assembly the other day and the school head gave a rather stern lecture on how children shouldn’t boast. He said that it was okay for children to speak up for themselves, but they must know when to stop. While he had a valid point, I think wallflower syndrome can become so internalised that we second-guess everything we write. This is paralysing.

So, how to believe in your own story?

If you’re writing about a journey, try to have a balance between show and tell, action and reflection, dramatic scenes and back-story. How you structure your work will transform a linear narrative into one that is multi-dimensional. If you feel you didn’t do enough ‘thrilling’ things on your holiday, include research to give weight to your words. Alternatively, use interviews with people you meet and dialogue to bring in other voices.

Think about the ‘emotional beats’ of your story: those high points, moments of drama or revelation. Structure your work around them.

Find a good writing buddy and be prepared to re-write parts.

But most of all, remember that you’re unique and so is your story. No-one else would have experienced the sunset just like you did, or the Eiffel Tower like you and your family. Trust in that—and don’t worry if you occasionally boast!

Last Seen... Journaling

2011-06-09T00:00:00Z

Recently I’ve been re-reading old journals for one of my book projects. It’s exciting to remember people and events I’ve long forgotten but I wince at some of my banal turns of phrase: ‘the view was breathtaking, the landscape beautiful.’ Yuck!

Keeping a travel journal for yourself or your family—they might be incompatible—helps keep your memories alive. Looking back on my own early attempts, I wish I’d followed a few simple rules to make them more compelling.

Here are some tips. For an entire book and website dedicated to the art, look for Dave Fox’s Globejotting (thanks Graham for the link).

Write as you travel. Quick notes, short sentences are fine, just get the impressions down as immediacy generates sharper writing. I have a small pocket notebook handy and a bigger journal for longer writing at the end of the day.
Aim to write about different aspects of your trip. One day focus on people. Note facial expressions, the fabric of their clothes, distinct mannerisms. Jot down snippets of conversations—both with the Gujarati bangle seller in the bazaar and the couple arguing next to you on the train. If you don’t speak the language, listen for catchphrases to add authentic voices to your prose.
Think how to paint the countryside with words. Pay special attention to the trees or geological features. Chose different aspects of nature to bring to life.
Show don’t tell. Instead of writing ‘the view was breathtaking’—which means very little—I could have described what the view was like. Did it shimmer like a mosaic? Was the landscape sculptured by the winds?
Note down the names of key towns you pass through as it can be easy to forget on a road trip. If in doubt, look at the map, ask your guide or a fellow traveller.
Describe how places make you feel using the five senses. How you respond to your environment is a way to situate your writing. If you walk into a cave and prickles crawl down your spine, write it down.
Don’t forget facts. The date of a medieval citadel; the temperature at 9 am; how many hours it takes to reach your destination. Facts help anchor descriptions and make the writing less impressionistic.
Keep a page at the back of the journal for questions. I always have a list of ‘things to know’ and if I can’t find out at the time, I go back later and do the research.

Most of all have fun. Doodle, sketch, stick things in. Sometimes have a splurge about what’s going on internally for you. Let the pen decide what to write, bypass the rational mind and play.

Last Seen... Exploring Genius

2011-06-02T00:00:00Z

Love her or hate her, everyone has an opinion on Elizabeth Gilbert. Without doubt, at every workshop I run, participants are divided over her best-selling travel memoir Eat Pray Love. Some switch off at her soul-baring, others are switched on. But just where did she get her inspiration? What was her writing process?

This week, I’m not saying much, but I encourage you to grab a cuppa and take 15 minutes out of your busy lives to watch Elizabeth Gilbert talk about creativity on TED. She’s funny, honest, insightful and smart. She explores the source of the muse, wonders where genius comes from and reveals just how darn difficult it was writing that book. (And by the end, it’s hard not to be won over!)

As Gilbert says, ‘Don’t be daunted. Just do your job. Continue to show up for your piece of it, whatever that might be.’

Enjoy!

Last Seen... Writing Between Jobs

2011-05-26T00:00:00Z

A question often raised in my workshops is how to find time to write when you already have a full-time job. As writing is such an insular profession, I always enjoy hearing how other writers do it. Last week I went to some inspiring sessions at Sydney Writers' Festival. The weather was balmy, the queues were long—and good-humoured—and writers from around the globe shared their tips to packed audiences.

In one session entitled Au Pairs, two writing couples—James Bradley and Mardi McConnochie, and Mandy Sayer and Louis Nowra—discussed how they live (or not) with each other and their work. James and Mardi juggle their writing careers with two young children under five; Mandy and Louis live 100 metres apart and spend their days feverishly writing apart, and their evenings at the local Fitzroy Hotel in King’s Cross.

But it was when Mardie discussed her latest novel, The Voyagers, that I was intrigued. Mardie has worked as a playwright, written a clutch of novels and works three days a week writing advertising copy. I’m paraphrasing here, but she said that once she’d conceptualised and planned out her latest novel (and she’s a self-described ‘great planner), she then wrote it one day a week, with a sprint of several weeks at the end to finish it, and it took four years.

I’ve heard another writer say that he cut his working week down to four days and took every Wednesday off to write. He preferred taking a day off mid-week, so his colleagues didn’t think he was just taking a long weekend. Another writer friend carves out blocks of time (2 or 3 hours) to write her book in cafes and juggles that with a part-time legal job.

Of course, if you’re an early riser you can do what Bryce Courtenay did, and get up at 5 am and write for three hours before going to work. Or if you burn the midnight candle, like Téa Obreht, whose novel The Tiger’s Wife was named on the New Yorker’s list of Top 20 Writers under 40, you can write all night. During one chilly New York spring, 25-year-old Obreht would start at 9 pm and write til 6 am.

Whatever your bio-rhythms, it you only have small parcels of time to write, it helps to break down your project. Set yourself tasks (for 20 minutes or one-hour) and stick to them.

These days it is such a luxury to be able to write full time. But it’s heartening to know that you can do it in between everything else. Sure, it takes longer, but if you have a book at the end, it’s worth the effort.

So how about you, when do you fit it in?

Last Seen... Having a Blurt

2011-05-19T00:00:00Z

As a freelance writer who works alone, sometimes I need someone to bounce ideas off. Not necessarily about writing, but about all the things that go with writing: steady income streams (I wish…), career plans, juggling several projects at once. Last year I had some wonderful sessions with career coach Joanna Maxwell, who gave me creative solutions to a range of issues.

Recently I was in touch with Joanna and she suggested I have a blurt about an aspect of my work that was troubling me. Since then, I’ve asked people attending my workshops to have a blurt about writing dilemmas.

There’s something captivating about the word ‘blurt'—a cross between a bleat and a spurt—that’s irreverent and rather bolshy. It usually has bad connotations and in the dictionary, it says it means, to ‘utter suddenly and impulsively’. While there are times when blurting is not a good idea, when writing, it’s a way not to worry about what you’re getting down on the page.

I asked one writer I’m mentoring to have a blurt about what his travel memoir is really about. In one sentence, he nailed it. I used it in my recent Sydney Writers' Festival workshops and participants poured out pages in less than 20 minutes.

I’ve been wondering why that is. I reckon it’s because if we think too much, we miss the obvious. If Joanna had asked me to write a synopsis (groan) or a bullet list (yawn) of reasons why I do or don’t want to do something, then I would have tried to be rational in my approach. I would have tried to get it right first time round.

I think the self-editor is so strong in most of us, we don’t even realise it’s there. Sometimes, of course, that self-censoring voice has a good reason to chime in, but often it denies what’s deep within us. Or it tries to temper that untrammeled creative burst.

But a blurt comes from the gut, or the heart, and it bypasses the thinking mind.

What you don’t want to do is to then blurt out what you’ve written to everyone you meet. Oh no! Once it’s down on paper, better to keep it in. Sit with it. Re-read a few days later and see where the hotspot is in the writing—and act on that.

Thanks Joanna!