More than Writers

Jack of all Trades I’m a bit of a Jack of all trades. Mostly because I get bored easily. But I also like doing everything I do well , and the problem with being a Jack of all trades, of course, is that you are often a Master of none.  When I started writing, (seriously, I mean) and deciding to publish books, I realised I couldn’t fit everything into my life that I wanted to. I'd spent some years building up a reputation on the amateur dramatics circuit in my town, but I couldn’t do that (a huge commitment) and my books on top of family and church life, so I gave it up. I did songwriting before I wrote books, but with only a mediocre musicianship I hadn’t got much further than lyrics and chords. Going further meant finding a band, having regular practices, committing to recordings, and I couldn’t do that and publish my books. So reluctantly, very reluctantly, I put it on pause. Master of None We can’t do everything. This can sometimes be incredibly frustrating, especially if yo...

  Having three teenagers and an eleven year old, it’s a question I find myself asking a lot. Does it matter? My kids ask it a lot too, but in different wordings. It can be a hard question to ask, as there is culture and what is seen as appropriate. It seemed to matter a lot more when we were younger too. There were certain colours that should never be worn together as they clashed. Does anybody still cringe when pink and red is worn at the same time? I don’t think my children are even aware how out of line that is… Writing can be like that. I know someone complained that I had a coracle, a manned lighthouse and an army bergen rucksack in the same chapter. But I made up Elabi, so I got to add all the things I enjoy. Who wants an automated lighthouse, when you can have a lighthouse keeper? And a coracle is a wonderful craft, and I was thrilled to read a lot more detail about those little boats in Joy Margetts’ book The Stranger. When writing historical fiction, accuracy matters, ...

  We have just finished reading a marvellous book called Metaphysical Animals , which is about four British women philosophers who changed the direction of philosophy in the middle of the twentieth century. What has this got to do with Christian writing? I hear you ask. A lot, as you will learn if you read on. The four women were called Mary Midgley, Philippa Foot, Elizabeth Anscombe, and Iris Murdoch. If you are an oldie, you may have heard of the last-named as a prolific novelist; you may even have read some of her novels. But she, like the other three, was also a formidable academic philosopher. Of the four, only Elizabeth Anscombe was a committed Christian (a Catholic in fact), but they were all definitely on the right side. Up until the mid twentieth century, practically no philosopher doubted that (a) the metaphysical realm exists in some shape or form, and (b) moral or ethical principles have an objective reality. To simplify events enormously, in 1936 a young philosopher na...

Psalm 25: 4 Show me Your ways, O Lord, teach me Your paths; Having graduated from the Procrastination Stage of Writing to the Planning Stage, I am now with not a little fear and trepidation stepping/diving/jumping into the actual writing of my first chapter in my first ever novel. Scary.  What has helped me kick my sweet by-in-by into actual work mode is the contest set up by our Association of Christian Writers. Yep, there’s a £100 carrot.  I’ve never entered a writing contest, but I like the British saying of “ in for a penny, in for a pound.” Please do send your linguistic corrections to your colonial cousin whenever you like, but as I’m the one writing this blogpost at the moment, I’m defining this saying as “ if you’re already doing something a little crazy ( such as thinking you could switch from factual to fiction writing), then you might as well do something else you’ve never done: Enter a Writing Contest!” I’ve included the rules below. Rules like these terrify me, a...

Unlike many, I don't mind going to the dentist, despite enduring, over the past few years, several unwelcome interventions, including the pulling of three teeth (happily not all at once.) The loss of teeth not only makes chewing less efficient but also serves as yet another reminder of advancing age. That I don't regard a trip to the chair with dread may be due to my faith in my dentist professionally (practically painless and ultra-swift extractions) but also because he is a very likeable man. In fact dental appointments are often the occasion for humorous banter. Some years ago - I don't remember what let up to this - I rather tactlessly exclaimed, 'I don't know how you can look in people's mouths all day long!' to which he replied, with a hurt expression, 'I see dentistry as a vocation.' No doubt he was serious, despite the frivolous tenor of our conversation, and I guess the same idealistic line may be taken by others in medical professions: ev...