Writing tips from A Guardian Masterclass

This week I was privileged to venture inside The Guardian offices, courtesy of attending the Guardian Masterclass on 'What sub editors wish you knew.'

The modern glass fronted building  had a reception line-up that reminded this country hick of the set from Ugly Betty. The women behind the desk were groomed, sleek and responsive with their smiles. A huge flat-screen monitor relayed the news on the wall. 

I was invited to 'sit' and wait  in a lip shaped chair. I fell into it and had some difficulty escaping its open mouth when being ushered away to deposit my coat. The pigs, to my left watched over me as I hung my coat up. Bless them, they're about the same size as me and have real bristles on their faces.  I stroked a synthetic trotter and regretted it as it was squeaky to the touch. Presumably these pigs began life on Spitting Image. I wish someone would bring that programme back. It so suits the Conservative age.

 As we walked upstairs we passed portraits on the wall, like these of Jagger and Sinead O Connor, taken by the famous Guardian photographer, Jane Brown.

The talk by Chief Sub editor of Time Out, Chris Waywell and the Guardian's James Callow, was designed to teach freelancers how to avoid obvious mistakes when submitting work. I'm not a freelance writer (yet), but I do work in PR, so it was great to hear from a national publication tips for writers submitting work.

I was interested to hear that bloggers sometimes get invited to submit articles. The thing to remember is that it's a professional relationship and you're on trial. The key to being asked again to submit an article is to be professional in your writing and dealings with the paper.

Rule number one is to understand the publication you're writing for and to understand the audience of the paper or magazine. Getting the tone right is important.  Phone up and get a style guide if you want to impress them. This also applies to writers submitting work to magazines or agents. Don't send your work to a publication or agent who is not likely to be interested in your genre or subject matter. Research is the key.

Break out space at The Guardian HQ

 Never submit late to a publication. You don't want to be unpopular with the sub editors do you? And you want to write for them again, presumably. If your submission is late that will impact on the chain of people and events at the other end.

Word limits: aim to keep to the brief. Submitting under the word limit creates problems as they have to fill the missing space with additional copy, creating extra work. If you submit over the word limit then that can be acceptable as they can cut, but a rule of thumb is to only submit up to 10 % over the agreed word count.

Name check, fact check, spell check and carefully proof-read before submitting copy. Let them know of any potential legal issues with your piece. Be concise in your writing and before you click on the send button, check, check and check again. If they change your work, pay attention, analyse those changes and ask yourself why so you can learn from it.

A tip for bloggers - it's easy to self-publish these days, but once your work and words are out there they will be judged, so go through a period of reflection and checking before you post a blog. Make the writing on your blog your best work.

I'd highly recommend this Guardian masterclass. The speakers were knowledgeable, friendly and cared deeply about good writing.  Chris surprised me by suggesting a technique I'm familiar with for creative writing - when you wake up in the morning write three pages of A4. Doesn't matter what it is, just write, then when you start work your first words won't be the first of the day. He also recommended The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron. Up until a month ago I'd never heard of this book, but this is the third endorsement I've had for it. I shall investigate.

For more information visit Guardian Masterclasses  or connect on twitter @guardianclasses

Dressing up for Wig Wednesday - transformations

Today was Wig Wednesday, and I joined in the CLIC Sargent campaign,a great charity who support  kids and young people with cancer.

I wore the wig on the long commute to work via train, in the corporate environment (civil service) where I work, then home again on the train.

It felt nerve wracking to walk on the streets looking 'strange and different'. Young children turned around and pointed, some strangers smiled, but commuters to London studiously ignored me, and I found myself feeling disappointed that I wasn't being looked at. Still, I imagine they see far more exotic sights in the big bad smoke.

I became very self conscious about how I looked - a feeling I've not experienced that deeply since I was a teenager. Wearing a wig transforms and hides. A close family member lost her hair through cancer treatment as a young teenager, and seeing her lose her hair and becoming bald hit home what 'cancer' means and how ill she was. I thought of her bravery and courage through the long 3 1/2 years of treatment.

She wore a wig to school and one day a teacher told her off for having long hair, and to tie her 'hair' back in line with school regs. She couldn't tie it back as the wig would fall off but was too embarrassed to tell the teacher and so burst into tears. For her the wig was a disguise not a choice at that time. And it was a CLIC Sargent nurse and social workers who supported her emotionally and practically during those years.

As I walked around I thought about all those you look 'different' because they are ill, disfigured, or just don't conform to the norm. I wondered how they manage other peoples' expectations, and stares. The best response seemed to be a smile, or a chin-up, straight backbone approach, to calmly accept that this is who you are and to out-stare the gawpers or smile at the curious.

At work I was greeted with laughter and a number of others borrowed the extra wigs I'd bought in. What intrigued me was how I was able to become more 'me' when wearing my costume. It helped that I dressed up to look as if I was a 1960's glam girl. Colleagues became skittish, playful.

It made me think how powerful it is to dress differently, to defy stereotypes. In the wig I laughed more, was lighter, more authentically me, because I was showing a side of my character normally hidden at work. But if we hide ourselves from others - don't we also hide ourselves from ourselves?

I plan to adopt dressing up more - I love it anyway - but doing this at work allowed me to become more 'me' and people today seemed delighted I'd dared to different, and wanted to know what I was up to.

As Oscar Wilde said, "Be yourself, everyone else is taken."

When in doubt, read

If you're stuck for inspiration, read, 

If you're struggling with a problem then read

If you're upset, depressed, bored, blocked, or heartbroken; then read.

A Bristol planter on wheels.

Reading is the partner of writing. Readers, of course, need writers.
Before people made marks on paper, they told stories, sang or danced
an audience needs storytellers. I'm telling myself this because I'm feeling stuck, muddled, weepy even.

Over the last few weeks I've been struggling over what to write  in the novel, and on this blog.
I feel like I've been stopped.
BUT - I've been using twitter on an undercover project.
The writer at work could be the subtitle - every weekday on my daily commute
I collect dialogue, describe characters and practice writing via #traintweets. Find me @wordpoppy if you wish.
One of my rules of @wordpoppy is that the sentences have to have impact, rhythm and must shine, so I am practising my craft. I don't know if traintweets will go anywhere but it's fun, and I may be able to use it  as  a performance piece.
I could be writing short stories on the train, and I should be editing the novel, but there's a lot of resistance to the editing. I am working out which bits to scrap in the novel, and how to rewrite the last sections. At the moment I only see mistakes.

So I've turned to reading to unblock myself and I've found a wonderful book which inspires, thrills and lays a breadcrumb trail of hope for me.
Why I write is because I want to produce work of great quality for the reader, that tells a story truthfully that touches the reader, that breathes, that becomes larger than myself.

The book that I spent the morning reading is The Detour by Gerbrand Bakker.
It is haunting, told in a quiet unassuming style. There is no interior monologue. Characters never explain themselves to the reader, we have to infer everything. It hooks you from the beginning and has a cracking denouement, with simple, powerful prose.

Now I am going to write.