writing

March Writing Challenge: Changes in my writing

~ ChanAtkins ~ 4 Comments

At the start of every month I ask my Facebook followers to suggest some writing prompts and challenges and then I post the one I chose at the end of the month. January and February flew by without me remembering to ask for prompts but at the start of March I put out a plea and had some great suggestions. I was tempted by a few that inspired fictional responses, but in the end I was most tempted by this non-fiction challenge by Becky Bekstar Paroz: changes you’ve seen in your writing, the industry and industry trends. I’ve decided to just focus on changes in my own writing for this post.

I published my first book The Mess of Me in 2013 so it’s been a ten year journey now for me. It’s had its ups and downs, which, I have to say, are far more interesting than the flat periods, where not much happens. I’ve learnt a lot and I like to think I have come a long way. When I first self-published through a now defunct ebook platform called Autharium in 2013 I had no clue what I was doing. My first attempts at front covers were terrible, my blurbs needed work, I wrote books that were overly long, and I had no idea how to market them.

My covers have definitely improved! I am really happy with most of them now. There are a few older ones I’d still like to revamp at some point, but it all takes time and money. I think my writing has improved too; partly due to constant practice, time, maturity and experience. It would be pretty awful to be worse at writing after ten years of publishing! But I can also credit other people with helping me get better. My wonderful editor and proofreader, my invaluable and honest beta readers and other authors who have, over the years, offered to read manuscripts in order to give advice and tips. I’ve learnt through my own hard work but also through the guidance, kindness and honesty of others.

My writing has changed in a few ways. I think I’m better at saying things with less words now. I’m generally writing shorter books than I used to, with a few exceptions. I also have a large amount of trust in my own writing, if that makes sense. I don’t overthink it. When it comes to a first draft, for example, I just get on with it once my planning is in place. I just write it. I definitely have more self-belief.

The other way my writing has changed is the fact I’m writing in far more genres these days. In terms of marketing, that can be a headache, but hey, the main reason I write is for the pure and magical joy of it. At the start of my journey I was writing hard-hitting, gritty, realistic dramas. The plot for The Mess Of Me, for example, involves drug-running, eating disorders and self-harm. The Boy With The Thorn In His Side series delves into the murky world of career criminals, domestic and child abuse, murder, drugs and self-harm. It’s a dark ride! This Is Nowhere examines missing people and fragile mental health. Elliot Pie’s Guide To Human Nature involves a boy trying to prove to his agoraphobic mother that the world is not full of bad people.

Things changed when Sim Sansford asked me to consider writing a series with him. He had already published books in the paranormal/supernatural genre and I was intrigued. We ended up writing a YA trilogy together about two kids with amazing superpowers! If you’d told me ten years ago that I’d move from writing about teenage body image issues, to teenagers with dark forces inside them, I wouldn’t have believed you!

My interests have also inspired some change in the genres I try. Like a lot of people I’m worried about climate change and the decimation of nature and wildlife, and my upcoming series, The Day The Earth Turned comes from this fear. I hope to release book one in June. In the series, which I’d describe as horror, a group of children have to navigate a post-apocalyptic world where all the adults have been culled by nature itself. Many died in multiple pandemics, and the rest died in various awful ways as Mother Nature sought to shake herself clean of humanity. The children are given a second chance, but can they stop fighting each other longer enough to figure out how to live in this new world where humans are no longer in charge?

I’ve been a huge fan of The Walking Dead and anything zombie related for a while now, so about two years ago I started writing a diary-style story about a 15 year-old boy left to fend for himself in a zombie apocalypse. I didn’t finish it but at the moment I’m typing it up to Word and having a lot of fun as in the last two years I have planned out everything that happens!

After re-reading Stephen King’s ‘It’ a few years back, I got the idea for a creepy, strange town where a group of misfit kids have to fight evil and I created Black Hare Valley. Nothing else happened for a few years as I’m always working on other things, but I did design a map of the fictional town, created most of the characters and penned a potential opening scene. A year ago, a prolonged power cut meant I couldn’t use the laptop so I started writing Black Hare Valley into a notebook, got entirely addicted and filled up 5 books before I finished it! I haven’t touched it since then because I’m trying to get other projects ready and published before I return to I’ve full attention to this potential horror series. It’s about dark evil, magic and shape shifters! Again, I never would have imagined me writing that kind of thing!

Marketing issues remain the same. I don’t have a lot of money, if any, to throw at advertising my books so my sales and reviews remain dispiritingly low. I am hoping to change this and have some ideas planned, including trying Facebook ads for the first time and so on, but it is still the hard bit. You put so much into creating these worlds and characters, usually two years of editing back and forth before you publish, and then it proves as hard as getting blood from a stone when it comes to selling and getting reviews.

I know I’m not alone though, and I’d say, if anything, it’s got harder in this industry to be seen. I have realised throughout my own journey that the indie authors doing well have been able to pay for regular ads and marketing in order to push those sales and get those reviews. They can keep it going then, as the more reviews you have, the more you get noticed.

The indie collective Sim and I are building is something to feel hopeful about though. Chasing Driftwood Books is in its early stages but we have big plans! More on that another day!

What Are You Waiting For? Write The Thing!!

~ ChanAtkins ~ 7 Comments
Image by yogesh more from Pixabay

There is something in your head.

Something that keeps you awake at night. Something that pops into your mind at the weirdest times. Something that you ponder over and wonder about. Something that you can’t let go.

Maybe its been there for a long time. Maybe it only came to you when you got older. You know what it is yet you constantly push it down and deny it, because to admit what it is would be dangerous.

You have an idea. A glimmer or maybe something more. You have something growing inside your brain without your permission. No one knows how it got there and you don’t understand why it keeps evolving, taking up more and more space. It wants to be listened to. It wants you to look at it. It wants you to write it!

But if you are like a lot of adults I’ve known, you’ll keep ignoring it, pushing it away, denying it, trying to forget it. You’ll tell yourself it’s silly, you’ll tell yourself it’s stupid. You won’t tell anyone else about it because chances are they’ll say the same thing, right?

People are unkind to writers and negative about writing, even though telling stories is what makes us human and is what has drawn us together through shared experiences throughout time. It’s how we’ve passed on information, it’s how we’ve stayed alive, it’s what makes us different to the animals. It’s not silly, it’s important. It’s not stupid, its magical. But you won’t find that out until you give in and write the thing.

So, what are you waiting for exactly?

To get more time? Who is going to gift you more time? No one. Certainly not this life or this world. If anything, they’ll just keep sucking more from you, if you let them. Give up on the idea that you will ever have the time to write. No one has the time to write. They make the time to write. They demand the time to write. They steal it back and make it theirs so that they can finally write the thing.

What else are you waiting for? The space to write? Is someone going to magically deliver a special writing room or secret loft or wooden cabin for you? No chance. Grab your space, steal it just like you need to steal your time. You just need a desk, you just need a chair. You just need that thing that is in your head!

Are you waiting for confidence? Forget that and write it anyway! Whose permission do you need? Everyone is a beginner when they start. Everyone is a novice, and amateur, learning as they go. Why are you any different that you can’t push that aside and write it anyway? You’re not. And you can.

Are you waiting for your skills to develop? They can’t do that unless you start exercising them! Let go of the need for perfection and write it anyway. Write the thing and let the thing guide you and teach you. Let it out.

Are you waiting for self-doubt and imposter syndrome to go away? Don’t be silly, they never will! Writers are anxious introverted people. We observe the world and absorb its pain and beauty. You’re going to explode if you keep all that inside of you!

Do you think its silly? Self-indulgent? Selfish? A waste of time? It’s none of those things. It’s there in your head waiting to be set free. It’s there for a reason. What is it doing there? How did it get there? You’ve got an idea, an itch, an inkling. Don’t you dare push it aside and focus on your boring job and household chores. Life is short. We are a long time dead. We will never get this moment, right here, right now, ever again. What are you waiting for?

Are you afraid of failure? Put off by the publishing industry? Made to feel not good enough? Maybe you don’t know how to start. Just start! Just do it! Just write the thing, write the thing down in all its ugly, clumsy, upside down glory and then breathe out in victory because you’ve started the journey and no one can stop you now.

There is something achingly tragic about a writer who never wrote, a human who never told their story, never voiced their fears and dreams, never let the thing run riot from brain to hand to pen to paper. Forget everything else. Forget publishing, forget editing, forget readers, forget sales, forget reviews. None of that matters when there is a thing in your head clawing to get out. Write the thing and leave the rest for now. It is your duty to set it free.

What on earth are you waiting for?

Dear 12 Year-Old Me…

~ ChanAtkins ~ 6 Comments

Dear 12 year-old me,

Image by Piyapong Saydaung from Pixabay

I think about you a lot! I see you in my head sometimes. I don’t think you looked that different to how I do now. Same hair, same face. I don’t think my dress sense has even changed that much. I still remember your crippling shyness, how it crept up on you until you couldn’t deny who you were and how the world saw you. That became a heavy burden in your later teens but right now, it’s not a problem at all. I wish I could go back and tell you that one day you find your voice! That one day you run your own company and write and publish your own books!

It was all you wanted back then. Every day you would rush home from awful school, the place that churned up your guts every night in bed, and you’d glue yourself to your notebooks and pens, scribbling away, pen flying over paper, never stopping. You had so much inside of you, I think it surprised you as much as anyone when you wrote an entire book. Until the moment you created Danny and what would eventually become The Boy With The Thorn In His Side series, it had been short, endearing stories about lost animals.

What happened when you turned 12? Everything.

You discovered music. You couldn’t stand the vapid boy bands popular among your classmates in the early 90s, but you found a lyrical friend in Bob Dylan and other musicians from the 60s. You felt so out of place in your own generation, until you discovered grunge and Nirvana! I remember how you’d lie on the floor with your head between the speakers of your hi-fi system, trying to digest and pinpoint every drum beat, every strum of the guitar, amazed and bewildered by what you were hearing and feeling.

You discovered movies. The Lost Boys inspired you to write about monsters, though you made yours the human kind. I still remember that moment, the bit at the end of the movie where they discover that the head vampire is really Sam and Michael’s mother’s boyfriend and you thought what if that happened in real life? What if your mother was dating an absolute monster and no one knew it but you?

You discovered that your parents had already been divorced for a few years – for some bizarre reason, feeling the need to keep up a charade until the truth came out. What you felt more than anything was relief that the arguing would stop and fear about who they might date. After all, monsters really did exist…

You started writing Danny’s story fuelled by your own fears.

You discovered gritty storytelling. Your writing shifted from cutesy animal tales to hard-hitting ones about abuse, drugs, self-harm, and crime and that’s because you fell in love with The Outsiders and SE Hinton became on of your heroes. She published The Outsiders at aged 17, so that meant you could too, right? Reading her books and others like them, moved you away from animal stories and into darker territory.

You discovered Stephen King and his influence would seep into everything you wrote from then on. The exploration of character and back story and motivation, and the every day details we so often miss. For you, the monsters were always human.

You thought you were fat and so many people thought it their duty to convince you this was true. You began to wish you could shrink inside your own skin, or pull it all off and start again. You looked at your skinny older sisters with envy and longing. You didn’t want to be seen in public with a face like that, a body like that. You turned to your writing, to your characters and they became your entire world, your friends, your everything.

They never went away, let me tell you that now. They are all still here. Every night my mind plays out scenes that have happened or not happened, and every night I watch my own little movies in my head just like you did back then.

I wish I could go back and tell you that everything you hated about yourself then is everything I love about myself now.

You were called over-sensitive, grizzly, weak, easy to make cry. You lived on the edges looking in, observing. I can’t tell you how much that shaped you as a writer and how I wouldn’t go back and change a thing. How now I can see who you were and what you were becoming, that pain is good, that silence makes you stronger, that observation builds entire worlds inside you. That you overcome everything and did it anyway. At 12 years old all you wanted was to be a writer and today that is all I am. That is everything. I smile every day because you gave me these stories, these worlds, these words.

Thank you for doing it. Thank you for dedicating so many hours in your bedroom to writing and creating characters. None of it was wasted. None of it was in vain. It was all worth it in the end.

Thank you for being you.

With love,

44 Year-Old me.

Still Lost In My Own Little World

~ ChanAtkins ~ 5 Comments

Me, aged twelve – thinking about my story at school, staring out of the window, barely listening to the teacher, barely aware of the world around me, filling my rough book with ideas and pieces of dialogue because my characters think the school day is a perfectly appropriate time to start talking to me. Rushing home, backpack bouncing against my shoulders, breathlessly running through the door to complete my chores before the rest of the day is mine. Me, in my room, music on first. Guns ‘N’ Roses at that age, thumping out from my hi-fi music system on the floor. My desk, an old coffee table, me on my knees, hunched over reams of scruffy A4 lined notepaper. A whole folder of one boy’s story, one boy’s scary world which would over time morph into an entire universe of my making.

Me, feeling excited to the point of explosion. Fixating entirely and completely on the story growing before my eyes under the frantic movement of my powerful biro. Pouring out the ideas and scenes that have bombarded me all day at school. Not a part of me is wondering what else I might have missed, from teachers, friends or society itself. Because I am removed and detached from all of that. That’s the background, the white noise, the distraction and this – this is real.

There were always other stories too, a constant stream of words and action. Sometimes I would sit at the breakfast bar in the kitchen with an old transistor radio to keep me company. I’d be lost in there, utterly gone. A ghost in this world but the puppet master of my own. I’d come back when I had to, with drowsy reluctance. What was there for me in this world? Terrible school, awful people, tedious chores and pointless homework. My parents rowing, doors slamming, people leaving, accusations flying, money draining away. I didn’t want any of that. I did not, in the words of Tom Waits, wanna grow up.

So, I didn’t. I broke free. I bucked the trend. Broke the rules. Did what all of them told me not to. I became a writer. And not much has changed. I have a foot in each world but most of my thoughts and dreams happen in my own one. As a child people used to say I was in my own little world and I guess they thought that one day I would grow out of it. Nah. I became a writer.

And it’s just the same now, as I hurtle back from the dreaded school run, a day off stretching ahead of me, dogs to walk, ideas to hold onto. I get to the laptop, get to my stories, to my own little world as fast I can. The world is bigger now – it’s a universe! I have sixteen published titles and eleven of those occur in the same universe. The Boy With The Thorn In His Side was my obsession as a child and a teenager. That story, those characters guided me through my youth and gave me a much needed escape route from reality. No wonder they mean so much to me. No wonder I am reluctant to let go. The Boy With The Thorn In His Side, the Holds End trilogy, The Mess of Me, Elliot Pie’s Guide To Human Nature and Bird People and Other Stories have all grown out of my obsessive writing as a twelve year old. I’d love to go back and tell her! And at the moment, the same universe continues to expand with three more books I am working on side by side. Again, I think twelve year old me would be amazed!

At the moment I am working on the fourth draft of At Night We Played In The Road which is a spin-off book from The Boy With The Thorn In His Side series. Two characters are introduced in book five of the series and I loved them so much I decided to give them their own book. A while back I penned a start to a sequel to The Mess Of Me, which was my debut novel in 2013. I finally finished it recently and as both these new books happen in The Boy With The Thorn In His Side universe, writing them inevitably led me to one final story. A crossover story, which I am currently on the second draft of. This book, The Dark Finds You, brings Danny from The Boy With The Thorn In His Side series, Leon from The Mess Of Me, Bill from the Holds End trilogy and Elliot from Elliot Pies Guide To Human Nature together in one story about a missing boy. It happened naturally and inevitably, I feel, because storylines that run through all those books have tangled my characters up together in the same dark criminal world where youngsters are lured into running drugs for older, criminal gangs and all of this comes to a head in the crossover book. It really finishes off Danny’s story too – from the boy I created aged twelve, to the man he is now – this last story ties everything up with no loose ends left hanging. Once these next three books are released, it really will be the end for that universe.

I will be both happy and sad but other worlds are calling! Plus, I don’t want to drag it out forever! This last book really will tie everything up perfectly and it’s been a very satisfying one to write. I think it is the fastest and easiest book I’ve ever written. It took just six weeks to complete the first draft and it just sort of wrote itself!

So, I’d like to pay homage to my obsessive twelve year old self. Thank goodness you didn’t give up. That goodness that drive to write was there every single day, upon opening your eyes! You didn’t know then what it would lead to but you did know you were addicted!

And I’m extremely happy and grateful to still be lost inside that world of my own making. It’s the best place to be.