My book 'A Place to Play' (which had from the outset the working title of 'My World Famous Novel') is off to a promising start as it has a publishing contract. This is obviously the first paving slab in the road to success. There are now going to be lots more slabs laid en route to publication which will involve back and forth communication between the publisher in England and me, the author, in Canada.
It was a satisfying feeling last week when I received the first proof read from England and saw that someone had taken the time, indeed was being paid to find edits needed for consistency in spelling and punctuation. Seeing red corrections (yes, red) gave me a warm glow which brightened when I saw that there were not too many of them needing to be corrected. My manuscript is now flying back to Cambridge for the second round of proof reading.
I have also been asked for cover ideas, press release content, a list of places to publicise my book and an author's photograph. All in all, it is a learning experience to find out what is needed to publish a novel. Perhaps a larger publisher generates some of this information themselves but working with a smaller publisher like Vanguard Press (an imprint of Pegasus) allows me to be more involved and a decision maker. This is good educational practice and I am at the receiving end for a change!
One aspect of this trans-Atlantic jet setting on the part of my novel that I am not so enamoured with is the difference between the cost of sending the same parcel from the UK via Royal Mail and returning it via Canada Post. Now, most of you reading this will be assuming that the cost from the UK is greater as we are led to believe that post-recession UK is still experiencing an inflated cost of living at present. However if you work it out, I wouldn't be grumbling about UK post as that is not what I pay for. From the UK the parcel cost the equivalent of $10 (6.50GBP) but upon return from Canada the same parcel (no additions) cost a whopping great $65 (45GBP). Hmm...perhaps I need to publish 'WFN2' which also has an English theme from within the shores of England or skip a novel and look for a Canadian publisher who wants to publish a novel with a Canadian theme. Fortunately there is more to Canada than bears and Mounties so I think I could find plot inspiration from somewhere in this vast country.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Finding the title
As I bumble along in life I come across little triggers that make me consider a new book's title. Looking out of the living room window today as the weather outside continues to dump snow on us despite being the end of February, I wonder where the squirrels are. 'Snow and Squirrels.' What would that be about I wonder? No, it's not doing anything for me either. On the same theme of winter I have learned recently that at the top of ski hills in the Kootenay Rockies the trees that are encrusted in snow are called 'snow ghosts.' Now that is more like it. 'Snow Ghosts' - I can see the plot unfold. Skier goes missing on ski field, rescue party find no signs of him. Turned into a snow ghost by a wicked wizard of the mountain. Ah, perhaps not! Already it is being influenced by the primary teacher inside of me.
Rather like my first novel's title 'The Last Field in England' that spurred me on to write the tale of Martha, Rudi and Trojan in end of 21st century Newcastle and then became a whole different title altogether, my second novel has a working title that has been bouncing around my brain ever since I came to Canada in 2006. 'An Immigrants' Tale' sounds like it is about one immigrant doesn't it? It is actually about two immigrants and so I am trying to do something clever with an indefinite article or a definite article and use the apostrophe to subtly suggest two people's tales. I don't think it works yet. 'A Tale of Two Immigrants' would be the easy default to Dickens, but I may be accused of taking advantage of a rather more famous novelist's success.
'An Immigrants' Tale' is unfolding and is close to half way through. My great great grandfather emigrated to Canada around 1911 and I emigrated here in 2006, almost a hundred years apart. I have wondered how different our emigration experience was and if we met would we have any common ground. Did I have it easy stepping off a Zoom Airlines compared to him or did he have less bureaucracy to deal with than I did? We both lived on Vancouver Island and he is buried in Duncan, B.C. I regret not finding his grave. I am not one for tracing family history but I am interested in the history of emigration and immigration.
Once this next novel is finished I will continue observing everything around me until the next title comes along. One title at a time I think. I just opened some photos looking for an image of 'Nuts', our resident squirrel when it's not snowing. I found instead a photo folder called 'Bear and Bees.' Probably more of an action novel than 'Birds and Bees' would be, don't you think?
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Why write a novel?
They say that there is a novel inside each and every one of us and 'they' are quite right. Any novel is a tale in some form or other of the human experience and what better place than to start with our own life. Think of the great characters that you have come across in your time, think of those who did not appear to be so great but now wonder what were they thinking inside or hiding from you as your paths crossed? What if you chose not to get off the underground at the stop you intended to get off but chose to wait just one more stop? What if you didn't get to work on time for your first job? See, it's not so difficult to come up with a story based around any of these scenarios is it?
But why a novel? Over the last twelve years I have pushed myself to achieve academic goals to better myself in my own learning in my field of education but being able to take the time to achieve a creative goal for myself was a new and incredibly rewarding experience. One December day, having finished reading yet another novel the night before, I literally woke up feeling that the time was right for the novel inside me that needed writing to be written. Three characters appeared out of the blue that day - Rudi, his sister Trojan and their plump friend Martha - and started telling me how the story of 'The Last Field in England' would be told. I hadn't worked it out before, I needed them to help me tell the tale. We worked together, the four of us, on the story and told anyone who cared to be reminded that a playing field is a precious space for children to be able to access in order for them to have their right to play. Of course there's a reasonable quota of baddies (mainly adults) in the story and a couple of twists and turns but be rest assured that the three friends use their wit to overcome the odds stacked against them.
The novel has morphed into 'A Place to Play'. I am conscious of a growing movement in the UK of the recognition of the need to protect playing fields whether they are school fields, local parks or sports fields so that our children can be active and healthy. I believe that there is a deeper root to this movement and it is expressed in UNICEF's Convention on the Rights of the Child Article 31 that states that a child has the right to relax, to play and to take part in a wide range of recreational activities. Too many children I have worked with in recent years are carers for their younger siblings, need to take part time work in order for their family to survive or are over or under weight due to neglect. Their right to be a child, to have a childhood needs to be protected even in Canada and the UK.
My novel may not be a great success, time will tell of course, but the tale has been told, the characters have found peace as their mission was accomplished and I have achieved an ambition set around 1977 or so when my brother and I wrote a picture book together on ghosts complete with pictures. The ghosts were orange.
But why a novel? Over the last twelve years I have pushed myself to achieve academic goals to better myself in my own learning in my field of education but being able to take the time to achieve a creative goal for myself was a new and incredibly rewarding experience. One December day, having finished reading yet another novel the night before, I literally woke up feeling that the time was right for the novel inside me that needed writing to be written. Three characters appeared out of the blue that day - Rudi, his sister Trojan and their plump friend Martha - and started telling me how the story of 'The Last Field in England' would be told. I hadn't worked it out before, I needed them to help me tell the tale. We worked together, the four of us, on the story and told anyone who cared to be reminded that a playing field is a precious space for children to be able to access in order for them to have their right to play. Of course there's a reasonable quota of baddies (mainly adults) in the story and a couple of twists and turns but be rest assured that the three friends use their wit to overcome the odds stacked against them.
The novel has morphed into 'A Place to Play'. I am conscious of a growing movement in the UK of the recognition of the need to protect playing fields whether they are school fields, local parks or sports fields so that our children can be active and healthy. I believe that there is a deeper root to this movement and it is expressed in UNICEF's Convention on the Rights of the Child Article 31 that states that a child has the right to relax, to play and to take part in a wide range of recreational activities. Too many children I have worked with in recent years are carers for their younger siblings, need to take part time work in order for their family to survive or are over or under weight due to neglect. Their right to be a child, to have a childhood needs to be protected even in Canada and the UK.
My novel may not be a great success, time will tell of course, but the tale has been told, the characters have found peace as their mission was accomplished and I have achieved an ambition set around 1977 or so when my brother and I wrote a picture book together on ghosts complete with pictures. The ghosts were orange.
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