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elingregoryI had an absolute blast at the UK Meet on Saturday where I managed to chat to, buy books from and in some cases hug luminaries of the m/m writing fraternity - sorority mostly actually but it was brilliant to see some male writers there, too. Jay Rookwood, Bruin Fisher and Stuart Wakefield are gentlemen in the very best sense of the word as well as being very good writers. Kudos to them for coming along and I hope there will be many more next year.
The panels were very good:
I was late so missed the initial discussion, set off, I believe, by Stuart Wakefield asking why women write m/m. By the time I got there it was winding down and I was left with the impression that it had been a very lively discussion leading to some intriguing comments written on the white board. I never had the cojones to ask what they meant, but I'll be wondering!
Lunch was lavish with a little of everything for everyone brought by everyone.
The first formal panel was delivered by Victoria Blisse who gave us some ideas for beating writer's block. I know that there are some writers who consider it to be mythical and that complaining about it is a sign of moral weakness, but whatever gets you through the day, right? The talk and the suggestions were very useful - well worth a bookmark.
Next, 2 lady representatives of Total eBound Publishing entertained us with an account of their business's history, how it fits into the current publishing situation and aspects of the author/publisher relationship that hadn't occurred to me. The figures quoted about the boom in epublishing were startling, but I think it was agreed that print will be with us for a long time yet. Just as well too. Ereaders aren't for everyone even if everyone could afford to buy one.
The third panel was delivered by Alex Beecroft, Erastes and Charlie Cochrane. They provided hints and advice for writers of historical fiction. I believe the talks will be written up and posted on the Macaronis blog, so I'll link to that when available. Alex pointed out how silly it was to allow characters a modern mind set if they were wearing historically correct knickers. Erastes advised not to allow copious amounts of hard won knowledge get in the way of telling a story. Charlie suggested some where and when cliches to avoid - the red bus, the paper boy, the discussion of weighty events - and not to rely on the things that 'everyone knows' because they can easily be wrong.
Clare London was our final panelist giving us a very entertaining run down on the various methods an author can use to promote his/her work. The two things that stuck in my mind were a] do what you feel comfortable doing and b] a well maintained and up to date website is essential.
The final 'event' was an informal Q & A session that may have caused Erastes to coin the phrase "An Interruption of Authors". However Charlie was very good at keeping order. I made no notes so can't remember exactly what was covered, but there was mention of fan fic as a lead into writing original fiction, the place of LBGTQ romance within mainstream romance and just how useful is that rare and elusive beast 'the agent'.
Jo Myles wound the day up with thanks and acknowledgements then there was more talking, book buying and signing each other's copies of Tea and Crumpet. I was signing my pen name for the first time ever which would have been a buzz if it hadn't turned out so scruffy :D.
All in all it was a brilliant day and I met so many kind and encouraging people that just thinking about it makes me gulp a bit. Thank you all, you are grand, every one of you.
I've been playing with Write or Die! Not as drastic as it sounds! I mean this thing - www.writeordie.com which I find very useful for giving me the much needed kick up the pants to get my brain into writing mode. Last night I shut myself in the spare room and managed 1600 words in 3 20 minute sessions.
Much needed too. Now I have my little Greek lads on the move again and the end of the story is in sight. I'll be glad when it is done. I've put in a theme that I need to run past someone so they can whack it with a shovel if necessary. I don't know if a] it works or b] it would work but I've been far to tentative about it and should describe it in all its squelchy glory or c] what was the question again?
Just for the hell of it - here's a snippet of something completely unrelated to what I'm working on, from a time when I had nothing to do apart from pretend to be Georgette Heyer on crack:
The large room had once been a place of splendour, a suitable setting for the refined pursuits of elegant lords and ladies with powdered hair and paint and patches upon their faces. Now its few remaining beauties were obscured by the poor light and drifting clouds of blue smoke from the pipes and cigarillos of the players at the tables. It was hot, very hot, and the air was thick with fumes of wine, candle grease and harsh tobacco.
Sir Aubrey Stanton-Rivers, but a month past his twenty-first birthday and newly come both to his inheritance and its attendant responsibilities, crowed gleefully as he counted up his tricks.
“Waiter, another bottle,” he cried. “My luck’s turned at last. Stick with me, Cholmondeley, my boy, and I’ll make your fortune!”
The red-faced young subaltern opposite just grinned and continued to shuffle the deck.
“Another game?” Aubrey suggested. His coat was off, his neckcloth was on the floor and his blond curls were wildly dishevelled. With his wide-set blue eyes and ingenuous grin he looked like a youthful seraph that had strayed into an antechamber of Hell and found it much to his taste.
“Dammit, you’re too lucky for me,” one of his companions grumbled. “I’m not having you make Chum’s fortune at the expense of mine. I’m for the dice table. Coming, Charles?”
The other man grunted and drained his glass and they both disappeared into the howling throng at the other end of the room. Aubrey gave a crack of laughter.
“You’ll play. Won’t you, Chum?”
“Of course. Your luck never lasts,” Chum pointed out. “Besides, once the drink is in the sense is out and here comes our third bottle.” He grinned and placed the deck squarely upon the table between them.
“I’ll cut with you,” Aubrey offered. “Your grey hack against my chestnut.”
“Oh no,” Cholmondeley shook his head, “not that ewe-necked nag, Put up something worth having for pity’s sake.”
Aubrey laughed, Chum’s affection for his grey was well known. He scribbled a few words onto a piece of paper and passed it to his friend.
“There’s my stake,” he declared, “take it or leave it.”
Cholmondeley shouted with laughter.
“I’ll take it by all means. You go first …Oh, very good Aubrey…But not quite good enough. I’ll keep this,” he waved the piece of paper, “next to my heart.”
The panels were very good:
I was late so missed the initial discussion, set off, I believe, by Stuart Wakefield asking why women write m/m. By the time I got there it was winding down and I was left with the impression that it had been a very lively discussion leading to some intriguing comments written on the white board. I never had the cojones to ask what they meant, but I'll be wondering!
Lunch was lavish with a little of everything for everyone brought by everyone.
The first formal panel was delivered by Victoria Blisse who gave us some ideas for beating writer's block. I know that there are some writers who consider it to be mythical and that complaining about it is a sign of moral weakness, but whatever gets you through the day, right? The talk and the suggestions were very useful - well worth a bookmark.
Next, 2 lady representatives of Total eBound Publishing entertained us with an account of their business's history, how it fits into the current publishing situation and aspects of the author/publisher relationship that hadn't occurred to me. The figures quoted about the boom in epublishing were startling, but I think it was agreed that print will be with us for a long time yet. Just as well too. Ereaders aren't for everyone even if everyone could afford to buy one.
The third panel was delivered by Alex Beecroft, Erastes and Charlie Cochrane. They provided hints and advice for writers of historical fiction. I believe the talks will be written up and posted on the Macaronis blog, so I'll link to that when available. Alex pointed out how silly it was to allow characters a modern mind set if they were wearing historically correct knickers. Erastes advised not to allow copious amounts of hard won knowledge get in the way of telling a story. Charlie suggested some where and when cliches to avoid - the red bus, the paper boy, the discussion of weighty events - and not to rely on the things that 'everyone knows' because they can easily be wrong.
Clare London was our final panelist giving us a very entertaining run down on the various methods an author can use to promote his/her work. The two things that stuck in my mind were a] do what you feel comfortable doing and b] a well maintained and up to date website is essential.
The final 'event' was an informal Q & A session that may have caused Erastes to coin the phrase "An Interruption of Authors". However Charlie was very good at keeping order. I made no notes so can't remember exactly what was covered, but there was mention of fan fic as a lead into writing original fiction, the place of LBGTQ romance within mainstream romance and just how useful is that rare and elusive beast 'the agent'.
Jo Myles wound the day up with thanks and acknowledgements then there was more talking, book buying and signing each other's copies of Tea and Crumpet. I was signing my pen name for the first time ever which would have been a buzz if it hadn't turned out so scruffy :D.
All in all it was a brilliant day and I met so many kind and encouraging people that just thinking about it makes me gulp a bit. Thank you all, you are grand, every one of you.
I've been playing with Write or Die! Not as drastic as it sounds! I mean this thing - www.writeordie.com which I find very useful for giving me the much needed kick up the pants to get my brain into writing mode. Last night I shut myself in the spare room and managed 1600 words in 3 20 minute sessions.
Much needed too. Now I have my little Greek lads on the move again and the end of the story is in sight. I'll be glad when it is done. I've put in a theme that I need to run past someone so they can whack it with a shovel if necessary. I don't know if a] it works or b] it would work but I've been far to tentative about it and should describe it in all its squelchy glory or c] what was the question again?
Just for the hell of it - here's a snippet of something completely unrelated to what I'm working on, from a time when I had nothing to do apart from pretend to be Georgette Heyer on crack:
The large room had once been a place of splendour, a suitable setting for the refined pursuits of elegant lords and ladies with powdered hair and paint and patches upon their faces. Now its few remaining beauties were obscured by the poor light and drifting clouds of blue smoke from the pipes and cigarillos of the players at the tables. It was hot, very hot, and the air was thick with fumes of wine, candle grease and harsh tobacco.
Sir Aubrey Stanton-Rivers, but a month past his twenty-first birthday and newly come both to his inheritance and its attendant responsibilities, crowed gleefully as he counted up his tricks.
“Waiter, another bottle,” he cried. “My luck’s turned at last. Stick with me, Cholmondeley, my boy, and I’ll make your fortune!”
The red-faced young subaltern opposite just grinned and continued to shuffle the deck.
“Another game?” Aubrey suggested. His coat was off, his neckcloth was on the floor and his blond curls were wildly dishevelled. With his wide-set blue eyes and ingenuous grin he looked like a youthful seraph that had strayed into an antechamber of Hell and found it much to his taste.
“Dammit, you’re too lucky for me,” one of his companions grumbled. “I’m not having you make Chum’s fortune at the expense of mine. I’m for the dice table. Coming, Charles?”
The other man grunted and drained his glass and they both disappeared into the howling throng at the other end of the room. Aubrey gave a crack of laughter.
“You’ll play. Won’t you, Chum?”
“Of course. Your luck never lasts,” Chum pointed out. “Besides, once the drink is in the sense is out and here comes our third bottle.” He grinned and placed the deck squarely upon the table between them.
“I’ll cut with you,” Aubrey offered. “Your grey hack against my chestnut.”
“Oh no,” Cholmondeley shook his head, “not that ewe-necked nag, Put up something worth having for pity’s sake.”
Aubrey laughed, Chum’s affection for his grey was well known. He scribbled a few words onto a piece of paper and passed it to his friend.
“There’s my stake,” he declared, “take it or leave it.”
Cholmondeley shouted with laughter.
“I’ll take it by all means. You go first …Oh, very good Aubrey…But not quite good enough. I’ll keep this,” he waved the piece of paper, “next to my heart.”
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no subject
Date: 2011-07-29 01:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-01 05:27 pm (UTC)It was great to meet you too. And your talk was inspiring, if a little on the scary side. I now have a domain name to avoid the outcome you suggested - the Elin Gregory Massage and Personal Services Parlour dot com can no longer happen! Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-02 09:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-29 01:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-01 05:29 pm (UTC)Squeeeee *hugs* looking forward to seeing you again next year.
Unless some of us do something like that cottage jolly to Hay on Wye.