The hardest thing about writing…

…is often idea of other people looking at it. I do realise this is absolutely counterintuitive for someone who publishes their work.

person in white shirt with brown wooden frame
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Self-confidence, though.

I write under a pseudonym. Quite a few people in my Real Life ™ know about Ally (waves to those of them reading this!); but in my head, the pseudonym is a thin veneer of paper protection between the me who is trying go to Parent-Teacher meetings more often and not visit the shop in her slippers; and the me that likes to don my house-trousers at two in the afternoon and settle on the sofa to read or write queer novels featuring werewolves.

When we lived on Merseyside, we lived on a side-street just off the river Mersey itself, on the opposite side of the water to Liverpool. I am not a City Person and it was a Sacrifice For Love that I made when I was young and foolish. Mr AL has more than made up for my sacrifice by now – he found moving to the country a lot more traumatic than I found city life. In a village, if you put your washing out on the line, every single person in the vicinity will know that you have bright red BEST DAD IN THE WORLD underpants. In the city, you can’t hang your laundry out because it will absorb city-shmutz and be dirtier afterward than before you washed it. In cliche, in a village, everyone knows your business, but in the town, everyone ignores you.

So there are alleged pros and cons. I’m not sure the city/village cliche is true, though. Our city house was three stories high, with an attic window that looked across the river to the Liver Buildings, those iconic symbols of the city. They watch the big ships and the little ships go out on their adventures and welcome the sailors safely home again. That was one of the pros. As was the collection of dear friends and close family that we had within a half hour walk. The downside for me was feeling like a rat shut in a trap. For me, being on a suburban terraced street, I felt watched all the time. When you go out of the house on a suburban street of terraces, someone sees you. When you come home, someone else sees you. In your postage-stamp back yard, your neighbours overlook your Sunday afternoons. Traditionally, living in a village is supposed to be like that; but here in our village, it is more spaced out and I feel I have room to breathe. In the city, I felt squashed.

Writing is a bit like that, for me. When a new book comes out it sometimes feels as if I’m in one of those dreams where you’re standing on the village green with no clothes on and everyone is watching you—or walking out of your house in the city and the neighbours’ curtains are all twitching to see where you’re going.

This can be good! People can go Ooooh! You’ve lost weight since the last time you had this dream, how good you look! Or Yay! You’ve got to the Parent-Teacher meeting and you’re not wearing your pyjamas! Or of course they can laugh at the fact that you don’t shave your legs or your pyjamas have little unicorns on them.

I think the trick as a writer is to let both those things flow over you. It’s lovely that people like what you write. But once it’s written and in the public domain, it’s a thing on its own and you can’t let how readers interact with it affect you too much, because that way lies madness. It’s the ultimate in looking for external validation and that’s not a great mental health place to be.

So…I guess the hardest thing about writing a book for me these days is letting it go. Pushing it out the door with its lunch in a paper sack, making sure it’s got a waterproof in case it rains, waving it off on the school bus and trusting that it’ll be okay out there on its own.

Img of woman giving lunch to a child who is about to on the school bus, with books in the background.

Writing and Allyship Around Non-Binary Gender

Writing and Allyship Around Non-Binary Gender

This was first published in Romance Matters, the magazine for members of the (UK) Romantic Novelist’s Association, Autumn 2020. It was intended as a very brief guide to introduce writers to the subject, but I think it also stands as a good introduction to people wanting to understand more about the gender spectrum, regardless of whether they’re writers or not.

Non-binary, genderfluid, genderqueer, agender and bigender are all descriptions of the fuzzy middle of the gender spectrum and people who sit there may choose any of those labels. 

The main thing to remember about all types of gender diversity (transgenderness) is that it is about how you feel inside, not about how you present to the outside world.  

I generally present as a short, round, grumpy middle-aged lady with purple hair, however I am feeling. This is probably because I only worked out what was going on for me in my mid-forties and I’m used to bottling it all up. Other people feel more comfortable presenting as masculine one day and feminine another. Some people present as androgynous all the time. It’s about where you need to be for mental comfort, not a fashion choice.

Good Allyship

There are no standard pronouns to use for non-binary people. As a good ally, what matters is using the pronoun people ask you to and not making them feel excluded by using gendered language. Some non-binary or gender neutral people like to be called he or she. Some prefer they. Some use zie or xe or per. A few people use ‘it’ and lots of people find ‘it’ offensive. Apart from that, the other way to make gender diverse people feel less uncomfortable is to try to use non-gendered language. ‘Children’ instead of boys and girls. ‘Parent’ rather than mother or father. ‘People’ or ‘folks’ rather than ‘ladies and gentlemen’. 

Writing

Obviously then, given all the fuzziness, there are no absolutes for fictional  characters. I’ve written three books now with non-binary protagonists. In first one (Shadows on the Border) I experimented with all the pronouns under the rainbow and in the end I changed pronoun depending on POV. Some characters saw my MC as male, some as female and some as neutral. The character sees themselves as ‘they’ and uses ‘they’ for everyone, because they come from a gender-neutral culture. My 1780s historical romance with a non-binary character (The Flowers of Time) was more difficult. Although my character is born female, she definitely feels herself to be gender-neutral. I decided in the end to work within the historical framework and stick to she and he pronouns. 

If you create your character and you aren’t sure you’ve got it right, think about finding a sensitivity reader to give you some feedback.

Finallyplease ask if you are unsure what pronouns to use for someone. Very few people will mind a good-faith question!

Further Reading

all about content warnings

As you may have noticed, I’m trying to be a bit more of a community animal recently. That has included blogging more frequently, more interacting, generally spending a bit more time interacting with both readers and writers. I’m enjoying it- I thought it might be awful, I’m a real recluse, generally speaking- but because it’s mostly online, if I get too overwhelmed I can run away and put a paper bag on my head and take deep breaths for a while if necessary.

Anyway. One of the things I’ve forced myself to do is to set up a Bookfunnel Promo. This is where a load of authors get together on Bookfunnel, sling a free e-book/story in to the pot and then when the time comes, promo the heck out of the thing as a whole, so all the participants get the benefit of each other’s followers. It’s worked very well for me before, but there aren’t that many for LGBTQ books and I thought… well, in that case, I’ll do my own. It’ll be open for readers to download free stories in September, although that’s not the point of this post.

The point is that I have only relatively realized that it would be helpful for readers to have content warnings for potentially triggering things in the blurb for each book. And then I went looking for an article about common trigger warnings and couldn’t really find anything both comprehensive and comprehensible for authors new to the concept to send out for my promo participants, because my Google Chi seemed to have collapsed that day.

Eventually though, I found this article from the University of Michigan, which although it’s about content warnings in academic teaching, is very clear, sensible and easily applicable to fiction and sent it out to participants. I’ve copied their list of common content warnings to the bottom of this post.

Then Missy Welsh took the time to email me with this useful blog post by Jami Gold, Content Warnings: How and What to Include?  which is extremely on point and also links to a post by Suzanne at Love in Panels: Content Warnings, What and Why Are They? Suzanne points us to a crowd-sourced list of content warnings on a google-sheet. So it turns out that there is a load of stuff out there, it’s just I was rubbish at finding it. Thank you to all of them for writing such clear and accessible pieces.

I think it’s important to emphasize that it’s impossible to content warn for every reader’s triggers. It’s just not possible. Everything is a trigger for someone. However, that doesn’t mean that as writers we shouldn’t do our best to help readers navigate to stories that are right for them. Authors arguing that we don’t have that responsibility and setting up the ‘everything is a trigger for someone so why bother at all‘ defense as their straw man are being spurious.

As a writer, I don’t want to drive a reader in to the sort of fugue I sometimes end up in when I read about sexual violence or miscarriage. I don’t understand why authors wouldn’t want to help their readers avoid that. It’s just being a good human, isn’t it?

Having said that, some of my blurbs are not yet updated with appropriate CWs. But I’m getting there.

Next week: August’s reading roundup


Common content warnings

    • Sexual Assault
    • Abuse
    • Child abuse/pedophilia/incest
    • Animal cruelty or animal death
    • Self-harm and suicide
    • Eating disorders, body hatred, and fat phobia
    • Violence
    • Pornographic content
    • Kidnapping and abduction
    • Death or dying
    • Pregnancy/Childbirth
    • Miscarriages/Abortion
    • Blood
    • Mental illness and ableism
    • Racism and racial slurs
    • Sexism and misogyny
    • Classism
    • Hateful language directed at religious groups (e.g., Islamophobia, antisemitism)
    • Transphobia and trans misogyny
    • Homophobia and heterosexism

excerpt: the flowers of time

As promised, this week I have an excerpt from The Flowers of Time for you. Set in the 1780s, in England and Northern India, the main characters are Jones, a non-binary archaeologist who has lived in the mountains for most of her life, and Edith, who is a botanical illustrator.


If Pater hadn’t made Jones promises to leave straight after the funeral, she wouldn’t have gone at all.

“You promise?” he’d asked, again and again as his strength waned in the flicker of the butter-lamps. “You promise you’ll go, Frank? You need to get away. Take the green-bound book and go.”

“Yes, Pater,” she had reiterated again and again. “I promise. I’ll go. I’ll go straight down to Bombay, to John and Richard. And I’ll take ship as soon as I can. You’ve already written to Aunt Caroline, I sent the letter myself. I’m ready.”

She had been sniveling to herself as she spoke, hoping he wouldn’t notice how distressed she was in the dim light. She didn’t want to be having this conversation at all. He looked yellow-faced and sunken-cheeked even in the daylight and in the flickering light of the dim lamps at night it was worse. He was already corpse-like.

He moved a thin, clawed hand to cover hers. “My dear, I love you so much. I have perhaps done you a disservice by not sending you home to Caro before now, when you were younger.”

“I didn’t want to go,” she said, roughly. “It’s all right, Pater. I’m all right. I’ll go, as soon as is possible.”

“I should never have kept you out here, once I realized that the book has some truth behind it,” he said. He had been rambling a little about his books in the last week or so, as he had become weaker. “You must take it back with you. And put it in the library at Stamford Hall. That’s where it came from. Put it in the library, up high, on one of the top shelves to the left of the arched window. Use the ladders. And then it will be safe.” He drew a rattling breath. “Promise me, Frank.”

She turned her hand over beneath the fragile skin of his own on the counterpane and clasped it carefully. “I promise, Pater.”

“And don’t do what I did,” he added in a harsh whisper. “Don’t search for the source. All these years,” he said, “All these years I have been following the trail, looking for the source. And now, here we are. And it’s not a source for good, my child. It’s not a source for good at all.” He was lapsing in to rambling again. “I want you away, Frank. I want you and the book safe.” Finally he slipped in to the restless sleep that was consuming more and more of his time. She bent her head over his hand as she clutched it. He was the only family she had ever known and she was terrified to lose him.

“It won’t be long now.” The soft voice of one of the older monastery healers came from behind her in the slow Bhoti they used with her. “But you know that.”

She turned slowly on her stool, not letting go of her father’s hand, and nodded. “Yes. I know. Thank you, Jamyang. I do appreciate everything you are doing for us.” Kalsang was behind him, she noticed, his apprentice and shadow. “Thank you for helping him wash earlier, Kalsang.”

“You are most welcome, Jones.” Kalsang nodded with all the formality a teenager could muster.

“He wants me to go home. To England. To my aunt.” She swallowed and looked up. “It’s all arranged. He’s written. Sonam will take me down to Bombay.” She heard Kalsang’s indrawn breath of shock. Bombay was months of travel away. She had only been once herself, about fifteen years ago, when Pater had made the trip to take some artifacts down to send home.

“Will you come back?” Jamyang’s voice was unchanged, still calm and unshocked.

She met his gaze. “Yes. Yes. He wants me to stay in England a year. So I can learn where I come from.” She disengaged her hand gently, not waking her father, and stood. “He’s right, in a way. I should know. But my home is here. And my work is here. His work. It’s so important the people at home in England learn about the wonderful things here in the mountains. There are buildings and people here that people in England never even imagine. Things so old, so precious! I want to keep documenting it all, keep exploring.”

Jamyang watched her, with a small smile and then patted her arm. “You are a good person, Jones,” he said. “You are your father’s child. Franklin has been my friend for decades now, since you first came here when you were a tiny child after your mother died.” He stepped forward and took her hand. “We will welcome you back when you come, child. You will always have a home here with us. But do as your father wishes, now. Take the book he speaks of back to England. And leave it there. He has protected you from it for this long. Now, your protection must rest on your own shoulders.”




 

 


Next week, my monthly ‘what I’ve been reading in July’ roundup!

research rabbit-holes for june

The last few weeks’ research rabbit-holes have been pretty varied. I’m still flailing around in the Himalayas and in eighteenth century India for Flowers of Time and on top of that I’m still fact-checking for Inheritance of Shadows.  This is the stack of reading I took away on holiday last week.

It turns out that Rob in Inheritance needs to know about Trench Code, which I didn’t even know was a thing until I started researching codes used by the British in World War One. I’m reading Secret Warriors by Taylor Downing to get some background on Rob’s career in Signals. Or… was he involved with something more Intelligence-led? I’m also reading A Country Twelvemonth by Fred Archer to give me a chronological background to the farming year in the 1920s and I may give Cider with Rosie by Laurie Lee another read – I haven’t touched it since it was one of the set texts for my O-levels in 1986. Although I enjoyed it before then, deconstructing it for an exam completely soured me to it.

The pile also includes a couple of books about Kew and Marian North, who was a Victorian plant collector and illustrator. Edie in Flowers of Time is inspired by her, although Edie predates Marian by a century.

Tabs open in my browser this morning include Keeping Clean in the Eighteenth Century, Ladakh, the index to Lady’s Magazine, a google search for images of deserted forts of the Himalayas, a page about the monastery of Phugtal Gompta, the abstract of an article about eighteenth century circulating libraries, and (still) the article about the eighteenth century seed trade, because I keep going back to it to absorb a bit more.

That’s it for this time!