1.       It’s not how you start it’s how you finish that makes a difference.

2.       I limped over the finish line knowing that the job is only half done and more challenges await to complete the book. Next is 250 words per day followed by 100k in 100 days. By Easter I should have a completed novel ready to edit.

3.       Daily writing matters but learn to forgive yourself if you don’t manage it. Family days and ‘life’ will always be there, and refresh the writer.

4.       Turn off the internal editor for the first draft and just get the story down.

5.       Prepare well, but not too well. Allow space for the characters to grow and for other characters to        come in and surprise you.

6.       I am an expert procrastinator. Procrastination used to be the thief of time, now it is social media. 

7.       It must be about the book and not only about the challenge. The challenge is there to support your efforts to write the book not as an end in itself. Use it wisely and do what works best for you. Don’t get sucked into COUNTING: because.....

8.       .... all words have the same weight as far as the COUNT goes. But we all know that some words are more significant than others. Some are heavier, meatier, more juicy than their mundane neighbours. They carry more of the story and the flavour of the book. And the more you get the right words at this stage, the easier the edit is...

Santa Carmen, July 1935.
Kit thought he was alone but as the light came around the hillside, he saw that there was a figure sitting in a hollow of the rocks. He was alert not because he feared for his safety but for the moral customs which he may inadvertently trample. 

Kit could make out the willowy figure of a youth, and with a sense of relief saw that it was a male. A young woman from the village, alone, could cause gossip and both her honour and his would be questioned. This much he had learned about Spanish society from his travels so far, and he smiled to himself. Not so different then to England, except that he would never swim naked in England at dawn, even in midsummer.

He rose carefully and headed for the beach and hastily dried himself on his old shirt and dressed. Then he found a deep rock-pool and washed through the clothes he had been wearing for the past week and he heard an amused voice behind him.

‘You need a woman to do that for you,’ the voice said, and Kit looked up into the silhouette of a tall youth with a halo of brown curls. He looked liked a classical statue from Roman times, or at least, Michelangelo’s version of one.  Kit left his clothes to soak and stood up and found that he was as tall as the young man in front of him but a little heavier and a few years older. He held out his hand.
‘Kit Brown,’ he said.
The young man had picked Kit’s straw hat up from the pebbles where he had left it when he went swimming. He held out his hand.
‘Fernando Ignacio Batista y Saragossa,’ he said, placing the hat on Kit’s head. ‘The sun will get hot soon,’ and he sat on a rock whilst Kit continued his laundry. ‘Keetbrown,’ he said. ‘Is that all? Not much of a name.’
Kit wrung the salt water from his shirt and lay it out on another rock to dry. ‘Christopher. John. Brown. He said carefully trying to make the words sound as Spanish as possible. ‘My friends and family call me Kit.’
‘You are a long way from your family,’ Fernando said.
‘Yes. London is a very long way away right now,’ he said leaning back on his elbows on the warming pebbles.
‘Tell me about it. What is it like in London?’
Kit gazed up at a heron which flew past to the west, towards Malaga, and wondered if he would ever get that far himself. ‘London is very busy. Very dirty. Very noisy. Cold a lot of the time and often raining. There is new building work everywhere and many people are moving out to the suburbs where they can have a garden,’
‘To grow vegetables,’ said Fernando sagely.
‘Flowers,’ said Kit and smiled.
‘Flowers? They grow flowers? You can’t eat flowers,’ Fernando said. ‘So do they grow their food on the hillsides?’ 
‘They do things very differently in England,’ Kit said picking his words carefully. ‘Even in other parts of Spain, in the bigger cities.’
‘Like Granada,’ said Fernando. ‘I want to go there one day. I want to go there and work. So is London like Granada?’
Kit held two pebbles in his hand and made like he was weighing them. ‘In some ways. It is a city like London and has a lot of shops and cinemas and restaurants and lots of theatres....’
‘I would love to go to the theatre. That’s my dream....’ and he tailed off and Kit felt responsible for not treading on his young dreams. Fernando indicated the pebble which Kit held in his other had.
‘So... on the other hand?...’ he prompted, eager for information.
‘.... on the other hand... it rains a lot and is cold wet and dreary even in summer!’ and Fernando laughed.
‘I would swap all this sunshine for theatres and cafes and a bit of life.’ he said wistfully.
Fernando lay back onto the beach and stretched like a cat. ‘Oh I don’t know,’ he said and they heard a shout from behind them. He peered through the heat haze and shielded his eyes and saw a woman at the top of the slope which ran down to the beach. She was waving at them.
‘Who’s that?’ he asked and Fernando leaped to his feet as though he had been shot.
‘My sister. I have to go. She watches my back and calls me when I am going to be missed so that I don’t get into trouble.
Kit smiled and felt the lack of a sister to watch his back. ‘That’s good of her,’ he said.
‘She’s my twin, so we have to look out for each other. It’s the only way,’ Fernando said simply and he was already turning to run up the slope towards his sister when he turned back. 
‘But I’m the oldest,’ he shouted and laughed and said it loud enough for his sister to hear. 

I have 50,000 words which is half a novel which will edit down and reduce like a good stock should. The next 50,000 will be written in January for the next challenge: 100k in 100 days.
I may then add more: there are incomplete scenes, a few gaps, and the narrative lacks flow in places. I will stir in the cream for smoothness and blend out the lumps.....

Thanks to NaNoWrimo for managing this amazing International challenge and for the support to keep going. 

Thanks also to the fabulous, supportive and positive  NaNoEssex group. 343 writers have written 6,066,759 words across Essex so far in November and there are still two days to go! 
Good luck to all who are sprinting to the finish line this weekend!

Here is a fragment from the beginning of Chapter Seventeen. It is the New year of 1936 and Kit Brown is in Andalucia. There is a risk of war. He must decide whether to stay and  fight or head for home before the fighting starts. 

The Spanish Civil War broke out in July 1936. Kit stayed to fight Fascism alongside many other foreign combatants who made up The International Brigades.

I struggled with this chapter and it came out feet first kicking and screaming but I finished the chapter today and am heading on the home run, downhill very fast towards 50,000 words. This will be the mid point, more or less, of the book and then I will pause and regroup and make an assault on the final 50k.

The year tips into winter, without drawing attention to itself, unlike the long Autumn days of Kit’s native England, which preen in livery of gold and red. Here, it happens swiftly and quietly, until you realise one day that the sun is less fierce at noon and the mornings and evenings are cooler. And then the rains come and wash away the tracks to the mountains and refresh the earth and on the other side of the rain waits winter.

Before the church clock struck twelve, Kit swallowed the last fragment of the twelfth grape and raised his arms in the air alongside his friends. They cheered because this was going to be a lucky year; had the grapes not been eaten on time, 1936 could be disastrous.

This New Year, his life feels like the pause between a breath and a heartbeat; he can’t ignore the political rumblings which stir an undercurrent of discontent; it blows in on the cooler breezes of winter and is stifled in the cold and hostile breaths of passersby. The streets are no longer languid with heat and the tension is palpable. Change is coming and war is all but inevitable.

Thanks to Gerald Hornsby for inviting me to chat on his Writer-Chat Google hangout tonight at 7.00. We chatted about self-publishing, and The Art Forger's Daughter 
and I concluded that whilst it was a very straightforward experience, it wasn't always easy! We touched on formatting and book covers, and the  challenges of marketing and selling books, which is often the hardest part. We also shared experiences of NaNo writing - Gerald has about 13 years experience of this challenge and many winners badges to his credit. This is my third, but we agreed we are in it for the long haul. 
The video will be uploaded onto YouTube later this evening. 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdK5uBNZaGw

When I was writing The Art Forger's Daughter, I commented to a friend that one of the interesting things about setting scenes in the 1950's is that people wore hats (and they also smoked in bars and restaurants, all the time. everyone did.)

For The Ties That Bind, I am currently in Spain in the 1930's (just as the Civil War is brewing.) They wear hats to keep the sun out and the women are covered not only to protect from the sun but also for modesty. 

As a starting point, wearing hats changes body language; people ‘pose’ in hats and move differently. Props do the same thing:  a cane or cigarette holder; a handbag or a sword. It is a shortcut to a stereotype but gets you immediately out of your own skin. The skill is to develop it beyond the stereotype.... 

Today the blank age seemed more daunting than the previous twenty three put together and the words hard found.

So I am going to get a feather for my cap in anticipation of ‘winning’ Nano again this year. 

I was thinking about a particular scene and although I enjoyed writing it, I wondered if it was really relevant to the plot, so here are 8 questions I ask myself when writing and editing, to stay on track and to bring a wandering plot back into focus:

1. What is the main purpose of this scene in terms of story and what else can it do in setting up themes, conflicts, characters, relationships....?
2. Which characters do I need, which are possible P.O.V characters, and who don't I need?
3.  Why does the scene begin when it does? (This relates both to the timeline of the plot and the emotional background of the characters).
4. Where can I locate this scene to add drama to the narrative and underpin the themes of the story?
5. How can I succinctly establish where and when this scene is happening? 
6. What events are vital to this scene and how can I use this scene to trail future actions or events by building suspense or setting up subsequent scenes? 
7. How do I capture the reader's attention in the opening of the scene and create a hook to keep the reader wanting to know what happens next ? 
8. Is this scene in the right place in the story? Should we have this information earlier or later in the overall narrative? (That is a task for editing. I will write the scene anyway and then ask these questions again when I edit...)

I have struggled this year with the viewpoint character in particular scenes. It shifts from scene to scene even within one chapter and I have had to keep asking myself the following questions:
1. Whose bit of the story is this?
2. Who do we want the reader to  sympathize with?
3. What information is the most important to give the reader in this scene?
4. Who possesses that information?
5. Will the impact be greater if they get the info from the character directly or a non POV character?
6. Which character has the most at stake in this scene?
7. Whose thoughts and reactions are most important?
8. How can you preserve any surprise or mystery in this scene / book?

When the Northern Spanish town of Guernica was bombed in April 1937 by German and Italian planes supporting Franco's rebellion, Picasso made his famous painting in response to the outrage. When the painting toured the world in 1937-9, it raised awareness of the plight of innocent civilians in Spain and the atrocities of the Spanish Civil War. 

The huge canvas was exhibited in 1937 in the Whitechapel Gallery, East London, and the entrance fee was 
a pair of workman's boots. The painting became a rallying point for the International Brigades, many of them artists and writers who went to Spain to fight Fascism. They lost that battle and the Spanish Civil War became known as the armed rehearsal for WW2. 

I have taken this as the inspiration for my new novel, The Ties That Bind and this is a poem my main character, Kit Brown, writes from the front line of the International Brigade towards the end of 1938.

I have a collection of pop-up books. I have always loved them. 
Beautifully crafted, simply themed, surprises unfolding on every page. Some are spectacular and far too fragile for children to play with.

I have just unfolded a chapter of my new story today: 
The Ties That Bind:  and found a beautiful secret hidden inside.

It explains a lot  about the motivation behind the behaviour and attitudes of some of my characters in this small Spanish village in 1935.

I have written almost half of the first draft of The Ties That Bind  this month, and I plan to publish it by Easter 2015


Image from The Jungle Book by Matthew Reinhart Simon and Schuster

I used to have a serious hoarding habit; I hoarded bits of writing and snippets in notebooks because I thought that one day it might all fit together like a jigsaw puzzle and make one 'proper' story. Even if it didn't, I would have all of this stuff to fall back on when the muse, who made infrequent visits, stopped calling altogether
Consequently, I have quite a lot of 
Works In Progress....

I realised that not everything I wrote would be ‘usable’ but it was all ‘useful’.

Some of it is a warm up, the scales and arpeggios or the stretches, and like a musician or dancer, if you practice your art daily, you develop fluency and that becomes FLOW.

Once I got into the FLOW  of DAILY writing, I learned the one key lesson which enabled me to finish a novel 

I know that the writing muse does not ration the words;  I ration my own words through lack of flow.

As soon as I learned the skill of just writing, turning off the internal editor, writing what I feel..... then a new habit formed and a bit like charging a car battery, the more I write the more the words flow.

Some days it has been a struggle to add words to the 37,500+ in 19 days; but I have to write every day, (even though I have not added words to the NaNo novel everyday). On those days I write longhand, sketches, ideas, connections, things I have noticed; but I write something every day.

Sometimes the flow turns to a trickle and some days the words are not necessarily the right ones, but they are flowing today and I am glad I learned how to turn on the taps...

At this point in the NaNo month of November, numbers are shouting louder than the words.

Today was a very slow writing day and Dorothy Parker's words come to mind:
'I can't write five words but that I change seven.' 
The blank pages are getting harder to fill, the writing is uphill and Chapter Thirteen stalled and rebooted itself several times before I could say I was done with it. For now anyway because.....
'Books aren't written, they're rewritten ... '  says Michael Crichton 

But today, if the words were reluctant to flow, the numbers just seemed to add up. The final page of Chapter 13 is Page 131. I have completed 35,131 words up to the end of Chapter 13. The Nano daily word target to reach 50k in 30 days is 1667 - so today I was just 13 words ahead of that total. 

Tomorrow I write Chapter 14 and it may well prove to be as slow and uphill as today, but I probably won't comment on it because the number 13 is full of fear and magic and possibilities and 14 is, after all,  just another number.

You have no control over it,

so be warned:

you don’t do the yawning,

it’s the yawn that yawns you.

You are yawned.

By Christopher Reid

Sunday afternoon when lunch is done and the rain is lashing and no-one wants to go outside because it is dark so early. 

I am exploring a fold in the landscape of my story revealing a cavern of possibilities: although not adding length to the story, delving deeper into the psyche of the characters lives and asking questions. And finding tucked away and hidden from view, beneath the broad strokes of a plot, a series of hidden stories which are stories within. 

Not diversions as such, but perhaps the essence from which the deeper resonances and nuances of the story come; not drawing attention to themselves; waiting for a simple nod in acknowledgment; happening in the background of the world I am creating and giving it depth and plausibility. 

When dynamite is lobbed into the middle of your life, it demands a response. A lot of loose ends were coming together in a glorious collision at the end of one very intense September; the conclusion of many strands and stories in my life unraveling simultaneously. I decided that any further pyrotechnic attacks should be managed better and that I should find a way to head them off, so I planned to take a mid life gap year to re-group. I began to think of all the things I wanted to do. Unlike ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ it was more a list than a title and it went something like this:

Cook Sew Paint Grow,  Move Dance Breathe Flow
Sing Write Fabricate,   Sit Listen Meditate

At the end of that year in Spain, writing ‘The Art Forger’s Daughter’ and editing theses stories, we returned to England having learned things which I use every day in my writing practice and workshop teaching.  Creativity requires trust and imagination and placing yourself in the moment and exploring the whole world with the whole self. And having fun along the way and sharing it with like minded fellow travelers.

Proud Dovercourt author Anita Belli shows off her new novel The Art Forger’s 
Daughter

At her home in Dovercourt whilst drinking tea, she openly discusses what led her to her career choice, writes India-Rose Lindsay-Wheeler.

Anita’s newly published book, The Art Forger’s Daughter, follows Beatrix Prins on her mission to discover who killed her father in the last few days off the Nazi occupation of Holland. She searches for the truth of the past, whilst determining her own future. It tells a story of a vulnerable girl with a deceitful childhood, who enters a world alone and full of danger.

Anita says: “It’s about love and the thread it holds, regardless of what has happened.”

Creative writing is clearly something that was cemented in Anita as a young girl and she reveals was even given the opportunity to have a story published in a newspaper when she was at school but added: “I was distracted by dancing, film making and the art of having children.”

Despite her many other achievements in life, Anita believes her writing defines her. She declares that her love of art inspired her to write her latest book.

“Art can be used to raise awareness on many things, including political issues,” she said. “And in the case of Beatrix, can even be used to save lives.”

She admits she is fascinated by people and their reactions to various situations, particularly the later impact that trauma can have on a person. Offering some advice for aspiring authors, Anita said: “Being an author is something you are, not just something you do.

“Writers,who want to write should follow the principles of a good dancer - always warm up and strive to write the very best book that you can.”

As we talk, Anita is surrounded by four brightly coloured notebooks and, after taking another sip of tea she explains that She said writing should almost become a habit.

She adds: “If you leave home without your notebook, and are in need of paper, write it on a napkin.”
In fact Anita started chapter three of her book on a napkin in Morrison’s café.

Fiona Lindsay, a retired nurse and Dovercourt dog walker, has described Anita’s book as: “A delightful romance and an interesting insight in to art forgery.”

Anita is now immersing herself in writing her next book, The Ties that Bind, which is set during the Spanish Civil War.

• The Art Forgers Daughter is available to buy at; from Red Lion Books in Colchester and Caxton Books in Frinton, or from Amazon.

• Anita is also holding creative writing workshops at the Continental Hotel in Dovercourt, called An introduction to Self Publishing starting from December 3. Details can be found on her website www.anitabelli.com

http://www.eadt.co.uk/what-s-on/proud_dovercourt_author_anita_belli_shows_off_her_new_novel_the_art_forger_s_daughter_1_3847906

Stakes: 
Set the stakes high: life or death works best, so that people care what happens. Then emphasise the risks by using similes and hyperbole: 

'It could crash; it could bounce off into space'.... 
'It is like landing a fly on a speeding bullet', 
or how about: 
'It is like throwing a hammer in London and hitting a nail in Delhi.'


Purpose of the mission: Make sure that there is a essential purpose behind the story:
A comet could have brought the building blocks of life to earth so this mission is out there looking for 
the ingredients for life, which is critical to finding out about life on earth.

Back Story
Comets were formed 4.5 billion years ago so this mission can tell us about the dawn of the solar system. The comet is pristine, unchanged in all that time, and so can tell us something about the formation of our own planet.

This is edge of seat Drama. 
The first time something like this has ever been tried. It has taken 10 years to get there travelling at 40 thousand miles per hour. It takes 28 minutes for the signal to reach the earth.  There are dramatic possibilities within such timescales – the possibilities of failures...

And finally, a happy ending, a good resolution to the issues and potential for more.... 
this story will run and run and we will be ready for more

‘So, pull your seat up to the edge of time and space and I will tell you a story’