Rosalie Warren’s blog

I spent yesterday at the Winchester Writers’ Conference in southern England. Got home late last night, exhausted but happy. The conference lasts a whole week and includes workshops and classes, but it’s possible just to dip in for a single day (as I did) or for the weekend.The most interesting bit of it for me was the speed dating… sorry, the speed agenting… sorry, the opportunity we were given to book 15-minute sessions with individual literary agents, publishers and authors. You signed up in advance, you were invited to choose three “names” plus some second choices, and you were informed beforehand which ones you had secured.

The pleasant, easy-going writers at the conference suddenly turned predatory when they got within sniffing distance of these agents-and-the-like. Especially the agents. We were desperate to a man (actually 80% of us were women) to get our 15 minutes. And if the person before us overran, or if our tame agent spent any of the precious 15 minutes admiring our necklaces (as mine did!) or hunting for her pen – well, the hackles began to rise.

Our fifteen minutes over, a frantic little woman at the end of the hall (yes, we were crammed into a single room with only a few inches between desks… Did someone utter the words cattle-market? Surely not…) clapped her hands frantically (surely they could have given her a bell) and our agent’s next suitor (you know what I mean) arrived. And woe betide us if we didn’t get out of the way smartish.

I never knew that writers – in my experience a friendly, gentle species – could be so terrifying. A writer in pursuit of an agent is a formidable sight. Forget the lion pursuing the zebra. David Attenborough could do a riveting documentary on writers in predatory mode.

The result – well, one of my agents told me to keep trying. She liked my writing, she liked my books, but she told me that she rarely takes anyone on until they get to novel number seven. That’s often the biggie, she said. Hmmm. Three down (nearly), four to go. A bit dispiriting, but at least she gave me her phone number. Told me to stay in touch, and to phone, not email, her when I had something new.
Clutching my little bit of cardboard for dear life, I shed my lion-skin, relaxed into my “nice” persona and went off to enjoy the rest of the conference.

Yesterday in Coventry (in the English West Midlands) was very, very wet. Undeterred, we went ahead with our barbecue in the garden for my book signing of “Charity’s Child”.

At the signing in Borders, things were quiet for the first half-hour, but after that, friends and family began to turn up and as soon as there were a few people around my table, others stopped to look. I lost track of how many we sold, but it was quite a few and the Borders staff had to bring out new supplies.

We were supposed to be stopping at 2.30pm but it got to 3pm without my realising, and just as I started to pack up there was a last-minute flurry. I got home at 3.30pm to find that my partner, Paul, had done a magnificent job cooking food under the gazebo in the rain, and there was an abundance of delicious things to eat and drink. Hannah, Paul’s daughter and Emily, my daughter (who had driven all the way down from Scotland to attend) ably assisted, and we had a wonderful time with family and friends.

I’m just stealing a few minutes from the clearing-up, hehe. Better get back – almost done now. Lots of lessons learned, lots of fun – but now I just need to sleep!

My first novel, Charity’s Child, is published today by Circaidy Gregory Press, and on Thursday I’m having a book signing in Birmingham, followed by a second one in Coventry on Saturday. I’m excited – but I’m also very nervous. There’s the obvious fear, of course, that no-one will come. Then there’s the less obvious fear that people will come and that – well, what could go wrong? I could upset a large jug of coffee over the book display (note to self: no liquids in attendance). I could forget my name (no, not even my memory is as bad as that). Okay, I’m worrying unneccessarily and should just go along and enjoy myself. We’re having a barbecue afterwards with lots of family and friends and that should be great fun. Unless it pours with rain – in which case we’ll all get wet but still have fun. That’s more like it!

Signings: Thursday June 19th, Waterstones bookshop, Birmingham University Campus, Edgbaston, Birmingham, UK. 1pm-4pm approx.

Saturday 21st June, Borders bookshop, Arena Park (near the Ricoh Stadium), Coventry, UK. 11:30am-2:30pm.

All welcome! 

I have just received a copy of The Unfortunates by B. S. Johnson (no relation to Boris, as far as I know). This guy’s name was Bryan and he died back in 1973. I got interested in him through reading his biography Like a Fiery Elepehant (nice title, and, it would seem, an apt description of the man)  by Jonathan Coe. I love Coe’s novels so I thought I’d try it. It’s a wonderful book, even if you’ve never heard of BSJ, which I hadn’t. I’ll review it some other time. For the moment, I want to focus on BSJ himself.

BS Johnson was an experimental author who saw himself as following the tradition of James Joyce and Samuel Beckett. He thought the traditional novel was dead and wanted to start (or continue) a new trend. One of the things he believed was that novels should tell the truth about the writer’s life. Not just in the loose sense most of us mean, but in the sense that as a writer you shouldn’t make things up. It should all come directly from your own experience.

I wish he was still alive and had a blog so I could ask him about this. As a novelist – the idea that you can’t make things up…? Isn’t that the heart of the enterprise? Yet there is a discipline to this that appeals to me. Not all novels, but some. I’d like to take on the challenge, and may just have a go myself.

Anyway – The Unfortunates is one of BSJ’s most experimental novels. It’s written in sections, separately bound (hence the box to keep them in). There’s a First and a Last, which should be read as such, but the remaining sections are intended to be read at random. The idea, I think,  is to capture the random, arbitrary nature of memory. The author took a trip to Nottingham to review a football match (yes, he was keen on football and he didn’t make a lot of money from his novels). When he got there, the city brought back memories of a previous visit to his close friend Tony, who died of cancer. So it’s a set of recollections about Tony’s life, their friendship, and the way the cancer affected him.

I haven’t finished it – in fact I’ve barely started. It’s not a long novel and I’m expecting to read it quite quickly. What I’ve read so far is intriguing. No, it’s riveting. As Coe points out, BSJ invented the male confessional novel, apart from anything else. He’s witty, he’s funny, he’s clever, he’s thoughtful. He should never have been forgotten. I feel as though I am making a new friend.

 More soon….

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Publication day for Charity’s Child is fast approaching and I’m nervous! What if no-one turns up to my signings? No, that won’t happen, because my loyal partner Paul will be there, as always, lugging boxes, fixing problems and supplying much-needed hugs. But it would be nice if a few more people turned up too!

The first is on Thursday June 19th at 1pm, Waterstones bookshop, Birmingham University campus. One of my old haunts – how many hours did I spend in there? I remember a display of books several years ago by an unknown author, Alexander McCall Smith. “Morality for Beautiful Girls” – what an intriguing title. I picked it up and was, as they say, hooked.

 Wouldn’t it be nice if someone did the same thing with “Charity’s Child”? Not that I would dare to compare my books with McCall Smith’s. Although we do share the distinction of having been lecturers at Edinburgh University.

The second signing is nearer home – just across the road, in fact, from where I live. Borders bookshop, Arena Park, Coventry. No – I don’t live there (not quite). Pay attention please. I live just across the road – oh, never mind. It’s on Saturday June 21st, 11.30am – 2.30pm.

If you are going to be anywhere near either of these places on those days – please do come along. You’ll be very welcome, whether or not you choose to buy my book. Help me feel less alone, please!

My web-page, if you want to know more about Charity’s Child and my other work, is at www.rosalie-warren.co.uk. Hope to see you there.

More soon,

Rosalie