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An Accidental Writing Retreat

August 29, 2015 by Alison Runham

My name is Alison, and I have a problem with doing things just for me.

Not doing things by myself, you understand; just doing things and spending money on things that only benefit me.

So it’s not surprising that although I’ve been tempted to book myself on the writer’s holidays that Della Galton praises so highly, or the writers’ retreats that Nicola Morgan and Laura Wilkinson have both enjoyed recently, I never have – because it seems self-indulgent; a holiday for one, albeit a working one, that would use money I could put towards a week in a cottage for the whole family. Perhaps if I was a mega-bestselling author, then…

Before anyone suggests that I Have Issues and Need Psychoanalysis, there’s no need. I know where the roots of the problem lie, and as my husband will attest, I’ve got a lot better over the years at allowing myself to buy things that aren’t a) the cheapest option available or b) life and death necessities. I now, for instance, own more than one bag. It took me a while.

So. The writing retreat thing. Brief background:

Techie Husband often has to work abroad for a few days, and once when asked to do so at short notice, was told he could take me for free as a sweetener
I couldn’t go due to work, although it planted the seed of me/all of us going some other time
It was no real loss because his hotel was, as is so often the case, miles away from any pretty/interesting areas.

But recently he was asked to go to Bamberg and I made the mistake of looking at some images online and checking the hotel location, which for once is central, and not far from the river that flows through the city – a city that, if Google is anything to go by, is beautiful.

I was seized by Crazy. Could we all go and make up for our disaster-prone, illness-filled, wind-and-rain besieged holiday in Wales? There were even vegetarian restaurants for Constructo Boy, who is a pescaterian – something we’d presumed would be hard to cater for in Germany or Austria. I sent a jokey email to Techie Husband about it and shortly after the phone rang. “Were you serious? Because I need to book in the next two hours.”

I dithered. He looked up prices. Booking a twin room for the kids would be pricey at the same hotel; Arty Daughter offered to stay at a cheaper hotel but Constructo Boy wasn’t keen on that – or on having fun while his Dad would be stuck at work for hours, possibly including evenings (often, he’s overseeing the installation of IT and comms systems best started when other staff aren’t in the office).

So I said no, but felt sad. I’d been quite carried away. But it wasn’t fair to go without the kids – was it? I’d barely see my husband and it would only be fun for me… wandering the beautiful streets of Bamberg when I wasn’t writing… completely undisturbed… using the desk and free WiFi…. in the hotel room room that, unlike the kids’ one, was already paid for…

A writing retreat had landed in my lap and I’d said no. What an idiot.

My children started on the psychoanalysis, telling me that I deserved to sometimes do something just for me and that I should go (see – told you I didn’t need your psychoanalysis offers). So I texted my poor husband who got the booking changed (saving his company the sole occupancy fee), and booked myself on the same flights.

So what will I do when I’m there?

Wander.
Take in some sights and smells.
Learn something about Bamberg.
Be completely without responsibility to do anything other than write what I want for a few days.
What is that like?

Probably work on the new novel that’s brewing and two short stories I’ve outlined this week, and if they don’t gel then go back to this novella >
that’s been sitting neglected for the last few years, with a few gaps that together only need around 7000 words to fill them…

… I might even blog about it! 😉

The Write Space, or Where I Write Now

August 21, 2015August 21, 2015 by Alison Runham

If you don’t remember me telling you about moving my working space into the corner of the master bedroom, I don’t blame you. I’ve just looked back to the relevant blog post and found, to my amazement, that it happened back in 2012. I hadn’t had my desk assembled anywhere for a long time so it was great to have it back up, and to be able to use all the handy storage space it provides. In my post, I optimistically stated: “Hopefully my new ‘writing home’ will produce good results.”

But it didn’t – at least, not for very long. Because despite the way it looks here, with the benefit of flash and sunlight streaming in (only possible because I’d pulled the curtain right back, which meant moving all the books, as the desk obscured a good portion of the window)…

… it’s a dark dingy corner. There’s no view, no light, and behind me there’s a bed and the inevitable junk that always seems to be cleared from other parts of the house and end up, even if only temporarily, in our bedroom. Coupled with the fact that you can’t move the curtain properly… it just didn’t work, and being able to see my work desk when I was trying to chill and get ready for bed wasn’t exactly relaxing.

Gradually the desk was abandoned and I found myself sometimes working on a lap-tray sitting on the settee, but mostly working at the dining room table, which has a great view of the garden and oodles of light thanks to a huge window and patio doors.

But a while ago I decided that for the sake of my back, intermittent hernia, concentration, sanity and need for easily accessible, compact storage, I needed to go back to having an office – and I needed it before we could afford the garage conversion. So I excavated the spare room and my lovely husband reassembled my desk.
Ta-da!

A far brighter room (no flash required!) with a view over the houses and the green space opposite, so that I can have a stare out the window if I want. It’s given me a work space that I can shut the door on if I want, and there’s a laptop dock so that I can use a keyboard and monitor at the right height. The bed-settee below squeezes in beside the desk, providing a thinking chair and somewhere for the kids and him indoors to sit when they arrive home and want to chat about their day – and if we have guests, there is just room to move it and open it out in the space in front.

This is a good thing as the bed settee was called upon not soon after, when my friend was taken into hospital and her boys had to stay for a while. But I’m back in now and it has made the world of difference. All my bits and pieces are just where I need them…

…including essential books.

And any that don’t fit on the desk are on a dedicated bookcase. Hooray!

As a finishing touch, there’s room for my lovely magnetic calendar with all my deadlines clearly marked, so that it’s easy to see where I can fit in other work.

The room has a lovely feel to it and when I’m there, I’m productive and focussed – and not tempted to answer the phone in the middle of a work session because it’s too far away, so it saves me from the curse of the cold-callers too.

Although I can write anywhere when I have to – I do this as a job, so there’s no time for waiting for inspiration in a garret – this really is the Write (pun completely intended) Space.
Where’s yours? 🙂

Random Fact Friday: The Wrong Side of Bed

July 3, 2015 by Alison Runham

If you’ve snapped at someone today in a way and/or for a reason they think is unjustified, they may well have raised their eyebrows and said (either to your face or as they walked away, depending on their bravery): “Well someone got out of bed on the wrong side this morning!”

So what does being in a foul mood – er, sorry, I meant to say a bit sensitive – have to do with which side of the bed you exit from?

Supposedly this saying stems from ancient superstition. The belief was originally that you should get out of the opposite side of the bed from which you entered it, but by Roman times, the left side had become associated with the devil or evil spirits. If you mistakenly got out on this ‘wrong side’, you would expect to have a day full of bad luck, swayed by evil influences – meaning you would be grumpy from the word go.

But then, is that the left side as you’re looking at the bed, or the left side as you’re lying in it…

Random Fact Friday: Faraday Ferrets

June 12, 2015 by Alison Runham

Michael Faraday was a scientist who became famous for his discoveries in the fields of electricity and magnetism. As far as I’m aware, he wasn’t a keeper of ferrets.

But ferrets are often used as electricians.

Honestly.

File:Mustela putorius furo.jpg — Photo by Mika Hiltunen Photography

Ferrets have been hired to lay TV, lighting and sound cables at the New Year’s Eve Millennium Concert – so if you enjoyed The Eurythmics, Bryan Ferry and the London Symphony Orchestra that night, it’s because the ferrets managed to pull the cables through tiny tunnels after human attempts had failed. And they performed the same service in the Royal Parks nearly two decades earlier, ensuring Royal supporters were able to see the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana.

If that seems lightweight, then show some respect – because ferrets also wired planes for aircraft manufacturer Boeing in the 1960s. So there.

Sharing my Birthday Book Blurbs: Part 2

June 10, 2015June 10, 2015 by Alison Runham

So here we are, on the second post about the Books Wot I Got For My Birthday. Here are the four books I got from my lovely husband…

The Humans by Matt Haig

What appealed: I sometimes wander on to Matt Haig’s blog and often catch his articles here and there. As a writer I shouldn’t use clichés, so I daren’t say I like his ‘refreshing honesty’ (but I do). The premise of The Humans interested me and writers I like liked it, which seemed a fair recommendation:
“Excellent . . . very human and touching indeed” (Patrick Ness)
“The Humans is tremendous; a kind of Curious Incident meets The Man Who Fell to Earth. It’s funny, touching and written in a highly appealing voice” (Joanne Harris).

It was also compared to the work of authors I already liked: “This is a tender, funny novel about the often irrational ways humans behave, written in accessible prose, and invites comparison with Mark Haddon and Patrick Ness.” (The Independent on Sunday).Oh, and it’s set in Cambridge – and I live in Cambridgeshire. Do I need any more reasons?

Blurb

HERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME.

OR IS THERE?

After an ‘incident’ one wet Friday night where Professor Andrew Martin is found walking naked through the streets of Cambridge, he is not feeling quite himself. Food sickens him. Clothes confound him. Even his loving wife and teenage son are repulsive to him. He feels lost amongst a crazy alien species and hates everyone on the planet. Everyone, that is, except Newton, and he’s a dog.
What could possibly make someone change their mind about the human race. . . ?

I Let You Go by Clare Mackintosh

What appealed: Clare is an ex-police officer who answers questions on police procedures and related topics for Writing Magazine. She was kind enough to answer a question of mine and we sometimes have twitter chats about the chaos of the writerly life on crazily busy days. That’s not why I chose her book though;let’s face it, not all of the fellow writers you ‘meet’ on the internet will write stuff you’re interested in. But the book blurb below grabbed me. The setting – a remote cottage in Wales – appealed, as did the idea that the main character is making a fresh start (I like books about fresh starts. I like that inherent optimism). Also, Clare’s book sounds darn intriguing and has got some amazing reviews – most of which mention a mind-blowing twist! I can’t wait!

Blurb

A tragic accident. It all happened so quickly. She couldn’t have prevented it. Could she?

In a split second, Jenna Gray’s world descends into a nightmare. Her only hope of moving on is to walk away from everything she knows to start afresh. Desperate to escape, Jenna moves to a remote cottage on the Welsh coast, but she is haunted by her fears, her grief and her memories of a cruel November night that changed her life forever.
Slowly, Jenna begins to glimpse the potential for happiness in her future. But her past is about to catch up with her, and the consequences will be devastating . . .

The Distant Hours by Kate Morton

What appealed: I’d been aware of Kate Morton because her books kept coming up in articles and blog posts about slipstream novels. She was often mentioned in the same breath as Kate Mosse, and that can only be a good thing. I read through all her book blurbs to pick a first one to try, and this is the one – after a bit of dithering – that I picked!

Blurb

The Distant Hours by Kate Morton, author of the best-selling The House of Riverton, is a heart-breaking story of love and loss with a devastating secret at its heart.

Edie Burchill and her mother have never been close, but when a long lost letter arrives with the return address of Milderhurst Castle, Kent, printed on its envelope, Edie begins to suspect that her mother’s emotional distance masks an old secret.

Evacuated from London as a thirteen year old girl, Edie’s mother is chosen by the mysterious Juniper Blythe, and taken to live at Millderhurst Castle with the Blythe family.

Fifty years later, Edie too is drawn to Milderhurst and the eccentric Sisters Blythe. Old ladies now, the three still live together, the twins nursing Juniper, whose abandonment by her fiancé in 1941 plunged her into madness. Inside the decaying castle, Edie begins to unravel her mother’s past. But there are other secrets hidden in the stones of Milderhurst Castle, and Edie is about to learn more than she expected. The truth of what happened in the distant hours has been waiting a long time for someone to find it . . .

The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty

What appealed: Letters fascinate me, and I love books of letters and books about letters. So this tagline grabbed me: ‘At the heart of The Husband’s Secret is a letter that’s not meant to be read…’

Blurb:

Mother of three and wife of John-Paul, Cecilia discovers an old envelope in the attic. Written in her husband’s hand, it says: to be opened only in the event of my death.

Curious, she opens it – and time stops. John-Paul’s letter confesses to a terrible mistake which, if revealed, would wreck their family as well as the lives of others.

Cecilia – betrayed, angry and distraught – wants to do the right thing, but right for who? If she protects her family by staying silent, the truth will worm through her heart. But if she reveals her husband’s secret, she will hurt those she loves most . . .

Perfect for fans of Jodi Picoult, or anyone who enjoyed One Moment, One Morning or The Midwife’s Confession, The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty is about the things we know, the things we don’t, and whether or not we ever get to choose. Above all, though, it’s about how we must live with the consequences of our actions – whether we like it or not.

So, what do you think to these four then? Read them? Want to read them now? 🙂

Random Fact Friday: What links Terry Pratchett with Saturn?

January 17, 2019June 5, 2015 by Alison Runham

I don’t need to tell you Terry Pratchett was a comic genius and a campaigner for many things that matter. I’ve got a feeling you know that already.

I also don’t need to tell you that he created Discworld, a flat planet carried through space by four elephants who themselves stand on the back of a giant turtle; a turtle who is swimming through space towards, it’s widely believed, a rendezvous with another turtle of romantic inclination.

But perhaps I do need to tell you that we have our very own Discworld in our solar system!

Okay, to be fair, Saturn isn’t as flat as the Discworld is portrayed to be. If Saturn did have water, it wouldn’t be flowing off the edge of the planet as it does on Discworld.

But Discworld is the flattest planet (that we know of) in Terry’s imaginary universe, and while Saturn may not be the flattest planet in our universe, it is the flattest planet in our solar system. Its polar diameter is just 90% of its equatorial diameter, due to its low density and fast rotation (it turns on its axis once every 10 hours and 34 minutes. That’s pretty fast). So it’s not so much flat as… squashed.

Saturn is also the most distant planet that can be seen with the naked eye and it has the most extensive rings of any planet in our system too. It isn’t full of wizards, dwarves, reformed vampires and cantankerous witches – in fact, it’s not capable of supporting life (or not as we know it, Jim). But its largest moon, Titan, is the only moon in the Solar System to have a substantial atmosphere – and could potentially support life.