Karen Ball

Right, come on. Enough is enough. I've spent the past month reading other people's manuscripts, pontificating on blogs, celebrating friends' publishing deals and generally doing anything other than writing. But now I am ready to return to the coal face, re-energised. Well, perhaps not quite re-energised. But writing is a bit like any other exercise - stop using the muscle and it turns flabby. I am definitely going to do some new writing ... tomorrow. So shoot me! It's mid-afternoon, the sun is out, I've been working for four hours and if I don't get some fresh air soon, I'm going to crumble. (I love you, Royal Festival Hall, but whoever controls your heating system has tropical tastes.)


I have a new book idea! That's a start, isn't it? Yes, Karen, if you're a fan of Jeremy Kyle. I ran the strapline for my idea past a friend and asked, 'Too trashy?' Dear blog reader, we all need honest writer friends. 'A bit trashy,' she admitted. So I've tweaked my new favourite idea and still think I have something there. Hopefully not something that could be an episode of the morning TV show we all love to hate.

Honest Friend mentioned above is in the same writers group as me and we met this week. I bemoaned my inability to talk coherently about my manuscripts - to sell my ideas. So we've all tentatively agreed to meet up at our next meeting with a pre-prepared pitch. I am determined to sound confident yet relaxed, succinct yet punchy as I reel out a novel summary that will send publishers falling at my feet. Either that, or I will blush, laugh nervously, wave a dismissive hand in the air, forget my rehearsed speech, lunge for a glass of wine and swallow it down the wrong way. That's how I usually behave when things really matter.

I have two more things to mention before I race out into the sunshine. Have you visited An Awfully Big Blog Adventure recently? Please do, as I have blogged there today about the quiet secrets of publication day. And please click on the 'conspiracy theory' link as it takes you to a comic strip that I put together all by my self.

The second thing? Next week, I turn 40. I'm throwing the Party Of Dreams to celebrate. The last time I threw a party on this scale was probably when I turned 18. I hired out the bar in Chesterfield Football Club. (Oh, the heady glamour!) As a birthday surprise, my two allegedly best friends booked the town's notorious Tarzan-ogram. Do you know what it feels like to have an oiled muscle man with a Derbyshire accent and tattoos throw you over his shoulder? Neither do I, I've worked hard on erasing the memories. Let's hope no surprises are planned for this party. I don't think the venue would appreciate fake tan, blonde highlights and a Tarzan outfit.





 

I love a good luck story, don't you? Only, there's one thing we should all remember about the world of a writer: you make your own luck. And never was this lesson more evident than yesterday morning when an announcement arrived, tucked away in a sidebar on the newsletter for the Publishers Weekly Children's Bookshelf. Harper Collins US had bought the North American rights to a trilogy written by Jasmine Richards, senior commissioning editor at OUP.

I know Jasmine. We used to work together at Working Partners, both starting at the company in the same year. You can see her in this photo* on the left, taken during one of our Away Days. Well, waiting on the side of the road with her colleagues after our bus broke down. It's easy to spot Jasmine - she's the one in the middle who is... How do I put this? Performing. Yes, Jasmine was always destined to set the world alight one day - either with her jazz hands or an astounding novel.

When I joined WP, Jasmine had already been there a few months. A joy to be around, she would sometimes say, 'Yes, I really need to sit down and write a novel.' That was five or six years ago. During the passing years she grew as an editor at WP, left to become a star senior commissioning editor at OUP, valiantly talked and appeared at every writers conference in the Western hemisphere, commuted between London and Oxford, did an intense period of maternity cover ... oh, and wrote the first book in a trilogy. If that isn't enough for you, she also thought up one of the most evocative titles I've ever come across for a novel: The Windrose. It doesn't matter if you don't know what the book is about, you close your eyes and imagine... All sorts of things! For me, a warm breeze off the sea (okay, I know a few details about the book), a ship, a quest, some romance...? We'll all find out in 2011 when the first book comes out.

What do I like about Jasmine's story? The sheer chutzpah she showed in getting on with a first novel - the writing and redrafting that took place in the hours left after a full day in the office. The creative determination to see through a project that was larger than life - Jasmine had a big manuscript and big ideas. The strength of character to do something that most people just talk about and the ability to keep going. 'Keep swimming!' as they tell us in the film, Finding Nemo. That's good advice for any writer.

And what do I like about Jasmine? Well, as you can probably tell from the gentle teasing I've already indulged in, she's a warm and charismatic personality who everyone loves. She deserves 2010's good news. Because there's something else we all need to remember about good luck. You can't just make it happen. You have to deserve it, too.

Well done, Jasmine. More people are proud of you than you can possibly know.

* Also in this photo is Sara Grant, author of debut novel Dark Parties, to be published by Little Brown in 2011 and Guy Macdonald, one of the Beastly Boys who write the 'Awfully Beastly Business' series for Simon and Schuster. Working Partners seems to be a breeding ground for children's authors!

Last year, we had a sofa bed put into our study.  'Just think,' Ian said, 'you'll be able to sit there and read manuscripts.' 'Yes!' I agreed. Since then, the sofa has become a dumping ground for balls of wool, computer wires, hairbrushes - yes, the odd manuscript. But sit there, I have not. Until today! I settled down with a copy of Undiscovered Voices 2010 to find out which authors I would be watching in the years to come.

Undiscovered Voices is a publishing innovation headed up by Sara O'Connor and Sara Grant under the umbrella of SCBWI-UK. It's nothing short of revolutionary. The first edition in 2008 arrived quietly and then exploded. It was a bit like watching a shy Susan Boyle walk out on stage and start to sing. I don't think anyone was prepared for Susan's stage talent or the extraordinary impact that two editors have had on the current children's publishing scene.

So they're back for an encore. With 12 new voices, all unagented, I know that publishers and agents are already scrambling to sign up talent on the back of this latest book. And there are many reasons to scramble. Some of the titles alone are intriguing: 'Fifteen Days Without A Head' and 'At Yellow Lake' are two of my favourites. The range of narrative characters was inspiring: a girl living in Iraq, a teenage actress, children of an alcoholic - and let's not forget the kid who goes to Alien School. I possibly related most to the girl who inhabits 'Not Just The Blues'. Angry, unreasonable, witty, occassionally sad... Did I mention angry? Cordelia's need to escape the humdrum of her life and chase after the glamour of the city seemed lifted from my own angry adolescence. That girl has personality in spades. 

I also adored the drawing of a booze-addled mother in 'Fifteen Days Without A Head'. No detail of her is supplied other than her dialogue and her drinking. We read all the rancid details of sick in the bath, bad breath, foul moods, missed days at work - but we are never given a single detail of what this woman looks like or actually is beyond her drinking. I thought this was a powerful reflection of the way that an alcoholic's personality is rubbed away at, edges blurring under the press of an eraser called 'Drink'. Powerful stuff.

And I was intrigued by the colour of 'Adele'. All those shades of white - fake blonde hair, the pale Mom, a face dusted white, and of course the incredibly powerful, 'The shape is white'. This story felt like a cross between Wuthering Heights and A Woman In White (though I confess I have never read the latter). An extremely sophisticated ghost story.

All in all, a wonderful reflection of the range available to all children's writers. These 12 people will soon be knocking loudly at publishers' doors. Open up!


And what of the rest of my writing life? Yesterday, I went on a walk around London's East End where we paused by this sign for Norton Folgate. A distinct district in what once was a poverty-riddled Spitalfields, this was a cherished sanctuary to London's creatives. Today, the street still feels thick with Victorian soot and dust and I could just imagine what a fertile subject matter it would be for a novel. Inspiration, inspiration, everywhere. All we need to do is write the damn thing - as recently detailed in an ABBA blog of mine!

And prior to that, I went for dinner with three writer friends in the rather gorgeous Artisan restaurant at the Westbury Mayfair hotel. Go, go, if you can! It was such a great venue with lovely food and great staff. We talked and talked and chinked glasses and talked and 'hurrah'-ed. It was a great evening and the waiters were very patient, as we talked so much we almost forgot to order.

Today I had hoped to write a first chapter of something new. I even managed to scribble some notes on the bus yesterday. But I have already been out for a long run this morning and other commitments are piling up. A blog to write. Someone else's writing to read. Manuscripts from the office to edit and a 'Storyline Extravaganza' to organise. So, no writing. Oh well. As Celebrity Big Brother's Ivana Trump gloriously declares with a philosophical shrug: 'It is what it is.' Oh, to have her money, ahem, I mean attitude.

Writing? It is what it is. It'll happen.

I come to you today from a train taking me away from Preston, back to London Euston. We've been given a free upgrade to First Class and I have Internet access - what more could a girl ask for?

I've spent the weekend in Lancaster with two old friends as we revisited haunts from our university days. Many pubs have been involved, one campus, a seaside town, curry houses, buses, and a lovely hotel with magnificent food. I haven't done any writing, haven't thought about writing, barely talked about the publishing world that takes up so many of my waking and sleeping hours - it's been just the break I needed.

Memory lanes are funny old things though, aren't they? For me, university was a challenging combination of fun and misery, great friendships, awful fallings out. My final year was bleak and I still shudder to recall the aching loneliness of what it is to be young and unhappy. Revisiting the house we lived in for a year at Morecambe made me breathless with excitement, but the years hadn't been kind to it. Rotten window panes, moss-covered steps, fading paint, a sagging roof... Why hadn't anyone looked after the shell that once housed some of the most significant moments in a 20-year-old's young life? Standing in the back alley amongst the puddles, I gazed up at my old bedroom window and was glad not to have even a glimmer of the misery I'd once felt, walking home down that alley one morning 19 years ago.The past is another country - I did things differently there.

I also visited the campus library and picked out a bound copy of my old exam papers, spotting the question on King Lear that I'd answered. The student newspaper is still going strong and I flicked through that, remembering my own attempts to help on the paper. (Too shy to actually write, I acted as their proofreader for a few weeks.) There was the bookshop where I'd bought a copy of every Margaret Atwood novel I could get my hands on, each 'series branded' with matching cover designs. All the pieces of the jigsaw were falling slowly into place. The final piece came when I attended a lecture from industry professionals on publishing as a career. Their opening statement was stark: if you want to earn your fortune, don't come and work in publishing. I remember walking back to halls, trying to decide if their warnings were enough to put me off. By the time I pushed open the bedroom door, I knew my fate was sealed. I was going to go and work in publishing. 400 application letters and a postgraduate diploma later, I found myself in the arse end of Caledonian Road working for a book packager, living in Hackney. My career in publishing had begun. I was already a long way away from that little house in Morecambe. But it was lovely to see it again this weekend. It's still part of who I am. I fell in love there - not just with a silly boy, but with a life that led me here today.

 

Jon and I first came to know each other through a shared professional connection: Jon's agent, Greenhouse Literary Agency, is part of Working Partners, where I work as an editor. Here we are together at last year's SCBWI-UK conference at Winchester.



Sarah Davies of Greenhouse signed Jon up and swiftly sold his debut novel, Mortlock, to Bloomsbury publishers. Bloomsbury must really love Jon as they've given him his very own YouTube trailer for the publication of his book on 5 April 2010. Jon is currently working on his follow-up novel, the Demon Collectors. Exciting times for this marathon-running, mandolin-playing writer. So I was very grateful to Jon for agreeing to an author interview as part of this blog.

You're known for your cheery disposition, Jon, but your writing is saturated with dark, gruesome, gothic and scary detail. Where does this macabre creativity come from?

My favourite saying is you've got two choices: laugh or cry and believe me, some of the things that have happened in my life whilst trying to get published have not been funny. I do try to keep a positive outlook on life and paradoxically, writing dark gruesome stuff helps me do that! So it could be an out-pouring of all kinds of subconscious angst! Or it might be to do with the fact that, as the youngest child in my family, my brothers and sister loved to frighten me with ghost stories and dark tales which have kind of stuck with me. I also loved watching the old Hammer Horror films which would be considered corny today but they terrified me. I find it hard top watch horror because I 'buy into' any film or TV programme totally. I am there running from the zombies, hiding from the killer, about to stake the vampire but just don't have the strength!

How important was the SCBWI-UK to you as you were writing Mortlock? Are there any other networking tips that you could give to a fledgling writer?

This is a brilliant question. I wasn't a SCBWI member as I wrote Mortlock but SCBWI gave me the introduction to an editor that made people sit up and take Mortlock seriously. I'm certain that if it weren't for the 2007 SCBWI conference, I wouldn't have got an agent the following Spring.

In terms of tips, I think you have to go to where the agents and editors are. That doesn't mean sleeping outside the front door of their flat or office, I mean going to events such as the SCBWI Winchester Conference or writing days, writing events, those kinds of things. When you meet an editor or agent, be ready to pitch your book, sum it up in thirty seconds. Have a card or a synopsis handy so you can leave it with them. Don't be weird, don't haunt or stalk people. Also, humility is a hugely underrated virtue. Nobody likes a big head and there is so much to learn from those in the writing and publishing industry.

Since receiving your publishing contract from Bloomsbury, has the lead up to publication held any surprises or has the world of publishing turned out to be just as you thought it would be?

I had no idea what the publishing world was like so every development has been a revelation and a surprise. I'm continually thrilled by how pleasant, professional and enthusiastic the team at Bloomsbury are. You kind of expect your work to be taken off you in some way and manipulated but every change of comma, indentation of line has been checked with me which is amazing. I also love the social side, I've been taken to lunch and to a pub quiz by the publisher too and the Bloomsbury Christmas party was great. I don't need much encouragement to jump on a train down to London for free food or beer! The Bloomsbury Christmas party was great.

How has your family reacted to these new developments in your life and how do you juggle family commitments and writing commitments?

With great excitement as you'd expect. My kids are my little 'sleepers' in school, waiting in April to jump up and start promoting Mortlock to their mates! My eldest sees his role as keeping my feet firmly on the ground and has spent the last few years pouring cold water on each piece of good news but he's secretly excited about it. I have a special dedication to him in the book. My wife has been behind my writing from the start and so when the deal came through, she sees it as her role to push me into bookshops everywhere we go to introduce myself. The family/day job/writing balancing act is a tricky one but made easier by the fact that I have been able to go down to working four days week. Friday is now my writing day, in theory although it often gets eaten into.

You have a three-book deal with Bloomsbury. Is your planning of book two different to the process you used on book one, or is the writing pretty much the same?

Mortlock kind of evolved over a relatively long period of time and it was trial and error until Sarah Davies took me on. I don't have that luxury with The Demon Collector and so I had to be quite specific and focused on who the main protagonist was (Mortlock see-sawed between Josie and Alfie, I could put
together the same story from Alfie's point of view quite easily) what was going to happen and how he was going to change. I had a synopsis for Demon Collector ready when I submitted Mortlock but it wasn't set in stone and I still managed to surprise myself with the ending!

Finally, we have to mention the powerhouse that is Greenhouse Literary Agency - your agent. From your experiences with Sarah Davies, what tips would you give other writers when deciding on an agent.

I was lucky enough to have a choice and I can understand anyone who feels flattered to have any kind of offer from an agent these days. The instinct is to bite the agent's hand off but it is worth doing your homework. The other agent I talked with was lovely and would have championed my work to her utmost, but she didn't have the grounding in children's literature that Sarah Davies had. So I suppose 'check that your agent knows the market you are in' is the first tip. A bit obvious but again, if you're desperate you might not look before you leap. Similarly, a quick trawl of the internet will reveal a host of agents. I would also ask yourself (and them) who are their contacts? Do they know more people in the industry than you? Again it may sound dumb but I could set up as an agent tomorrow. Would I have any greater access to editors and publishing houses?

Thanks, Jon. Some invaluable advice there for all of us.

Did I mention? Mortlock is published in April! If you have a weakness for Victorian horror with a big dollop of the gruesome and the magical, then this is definitely the book for you. And his follow-up novel, the Demon Collectors, promises even more excitement and stomach-churning gore and danger. Go, Jon!

My confession goes live! Stroll over to An Awfully Big Blog Adventure to find out what or, more importantly, who inspires my ideas. You might be surprised.

'What a difference a day makes, 24 little hours...'

Actually, what a difference a week makes. I've delivered a third draft to my agent! I found a clear day to sit down and finish reading, dotting the 'i's, crossing the 't's, ensuring that my final chapters weren't frantic rubbish written as I flew the swooping magic carpet of Writer Panic. Actually, on re-reading, I love my final chapters. I hope Jenny does too, but who knows? Authorial experience long ago taught me to be ready for anything.

So, I should be ready to kick back and relax, yes? After all, that's what I've been craving for weeks and months. It's time to do nothing. Er... Isn't it? Well, partly. I can't tell you the therapeutic comfort of starting a new knitting project that doesn't tax my mind, doesn't have a Christmas deadline and grows rapidly. Ah, the wonderful, brainless joy that is stocking stitch.

But a writer who doesn't write is always looking for something to occupy their mind. So it's good timing that two other authors I know are looking for feedback on their work. I feel strongly that the authorial community should do as much as it can to spread support, advice and constructive feedback. If we can't count on each other for objective help, well... So I am going to spend this weekend reading other people's words and trying to do what I can to help stonking manuscripts be all that they can be.

Now, on to the really important matters. I mentioned that I was receiving a netbook for Christmas. I'm not one to normally rave about matters technical or electronic, but my god... This netbook has been one of the best presents I've ever received. It's small, portable, fast. The Apple laptop that has been my fifth limb for years sits sulking in a corner of my office, totally and utterly ignored. Here's my new beauty:



On Friday I post my latest blog entry for An Awfully Big Blog Adventure. Do check it out! I have a cringeworthy confession that I'm planning to share... For now, I leave you with a photo of me in Stockholm. Gorgeous, enchanting, ludicrously expensive Stockholm. I loved my time there and it's taken on even more charm since I discovered that one of my best friends accepted a proposal of marriage in that very city. Aw!



I've been sent home early from work today because of the snow. I don't think I've been able to go home early like that since I was at school. Doesn't it make you feel liberated? My colleagues had an impromptu snowball fight outside the office, but I didn't feel that liberated - I watched from the warmth of indoors.

One last request: please don't forget to check out Keren David's debut novel, When I Was Joe. Keren is a fellow client of Andrew Nurnberg and her book is published this week. It is creating a lot of interest, including this review from the Bookwitch. Great things seem to be happening.


 

To my little band of faithful readers, thank you so much for coming back to read the tentative entries from a nervous new blogger that have been posted here in 2009. I don't know how this year has been for you, but it's been an extremely stressful one for me. Thank goodness I had you to talk to!

In the meantime, I hope you all have a lovely time as we celebrate out with the old and in with the new. Ian and I are in Stockholm for New Year's Eve. It's absolutely freezing and absolutely gorgeous. The above photo was taken last night as the snow fell around us.

I decided to drag my hard copy manuscript out with me. Note to all editors and writers: don't attempt to edit a manuscript using a roller pen on an aeroplane. The cabin pressure plays havoc with your pen ... and your hands.



Love and best wishes to all. Wishing you health and happiness and an utter lack of blue hands.

UK publishers are notorious for shutting their doors on Christmas Eve and keeping them shut until the New Year. But for as many Christmases as I can remember, I've always written. Not this year. I tried, but hosting Christmas 2009 meant that something had to give and that was the writing. Somewhere in my kitchen (don't ask me how it ended up in the kitchen) is a hard copy of my manuscript, with two magic words on the last page: The End. As I'd promised my agent I would, I finished a third draft before Christmas. All I had to do was print it off, read through, correct and deliver. Then I found out that my family was descending a day earlier than I'd thought. There was so much to do and the clear day that I'd allocated for my last writing task went up in smoke. So I emailed Jenny and let her know that she'd see the manuscript in the New Year. Drat.

Christmas Day was a flurry of joyous activity with champagne corks popping, a fire burning in the hearth, family all around, a turkey in the oven... No, it wasn't in the oven. It was in the fridge. I'd written out a careful cooking schedule. The only thing I'd forgotten to add was the turkey. We ate a late late lunch, but everyone was very entertained and understanding. After Jenga, Strictly Come Dancing, coffee, wine, coffee ... I collapsed in bed. Waking up the next morning, I discovered that my sister had been ill all night with a bug. As she crept into my bed for comfort and a cuddle I heard my own stomach growl. Waving the family off, I smiled bravely then crawled back into my pyjamas, knowing that I'd caught the same bug. It still hasn't totally disappeared and holiday plans still have events to be played out, so I can only hope to feel better sooner rather than later. Oh rest, where art thou?

Somewhere between now and 4 January, I need to sit down with my manuscript. This break may have been for the best. I'll be able to read with a dispassionate eye, having been forced not to think about the plot for six whole days, at least. Reaching the end of a draft is such a feverish time, it's probably good that Christmas got in the way. I found it odd to think about all the other writers, agents, publishers, editors, bloggers who, for a few days, weren't thinking about work at all. The publishing machine was on hold. It will rev up again soon ... and who knows what 2010 will hold?

My favourite moment this Christmas was making peppermint creams on Christmas Eve morning with my sister. We haven't done something like that together since we were children. We presented them to my other sister when she arrived on Christmas Day as a special treat especially for her, but with instructions to share nicely. She did.

 

The best laid plans... What happened? Christmas seems to have suddenly crashed into my life. My six precious writing days are already being eaten away in the chaos of trying to clear my desk and prepare for the festivities.