So What Do You Do In Schools Anyway?

In full story-telling flow: 'Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum!'

          A friend asked me this the other day.  It’s not the first time I’ve been asked it.  My friends seem deeply puzzled by the amount of time I spend in schools.

          I can understand, I suppose.  After all, unlike many other writers, I’ve never been a teacher.  I have no qualifications.  I know lots of little bits of odd things, but I can’t claim to be an expert in any one subject.

          My partner, Davy, who phoned while I was writing this blog, insists that I put in here that my education came from ‘voracious reading’ (his words.)  He insists that I add this, with his usual relentless Scottish persistence, in case people think that I’m "thick and only managed to write a book by a fluke. You shouldn’t keep telling people you’re unqualified, you should stop that now."

          Sixty-odd books, Davy?  Some fluke.  But now, when he reads this (and he will read it, just to check, I ken the cheukster) here is his correction, [almost] as dictated over the phone.

          Despite being thick and flukish, I’m always telling friends that I’m off to some school in Yorkshire, or South Wales, or Scotland.  I’ve even been into schools in Germany, where one boy asked me breathlessly (in beautiful English) whether I’d met the Queen.  He and his classmates gasped with shock when I replied, “No: and I don’t want to. I think Britain should be a Republic.”  Seeing astonished expressions on all sides, I added, “Not everybody in Britain adores the monarchy.”

Soon to be available for download

          The head thanked me later, saying that was exactly why he wanted British visitors – to counter the impression of Britain that his pupils received from television and magazines. (The ever protective and vigilant Davy doesn’t like this part either.  He thinks I’ll lose my monarchist readership: as if I ever had one.  Honestly, love the man, but if I listened to him, I’d never open my mouth or write a word. And when Davy reads this, he will cry – his constant refrain – ‘Suzzie, you never do as you’re told, Suzzie!’)

         Countering impressions received… That’s pretty much the answer to my friends’ question.  As a writer in school, I – and other writers, such as my SAS friends – are giant teaching aids. There are thousands of children who’ve never given much thought to where books come from, or who think they’re only written by – well, by people like the Queen, perhaps: distant, rich people with private educations and plummy accents. And then I turn up – an ordinary woman, with a Black Country accent, and read from the books I’ve written.

Tales of the Underworld on Amazon

          It makes writing a book suddenly seem like something ordinary people can do - something that living people you can talk to can do.  I tell them about the slum I was born in, and the council estate I was raised on, the comprehensive I attended.

          I tell stories, which I love – and because I read an exciting story aloud from one of my own books – well, suddenly, books are exciting and worth investigating.

          And that’s what writers are doing in schools near you.

          Here, you'll find SAS members, including me, reading from their books.  And I daresay one or two might two might pop up in the comments.

          Blott's come down from the roof....

 

CHRISTMAS PRESENCE



'Overheard In A Graveyard' by Susan Price.

         
           Christmas will soon be here, and Christmas is the season for ghost stories.  I think it was Jerome K Jerome who observed that at Christmas, that time of fellowship and good cheer, we love to tell stories of the grave, of hearts torn asunder by death, of ghastly presences hovering in the dark just outside the lamplight... How right he was.
          Here's a little Christmas present for my readers, a link to one of the stories in my book OVERHEARD IN A GRAVEYARD - in fact, the title story itself.
          I'll be posting links to another ghost story on Christmas Day itself, over on Do Authors Dream of Electric Books.



'Nightcomers' by Susan Price.

          The story going up on Christmas Day is a much sweeter tale than Overheard - it's based on family Christmases from my childhood, and was inspired by my mother talking about her childhood Christmases and how much her mother always looked forward to Christmas.  It's called 'The Christmas Trees' and comes from my collection of ghost stories, NIGHTCOMERS.
          It's a bit of a family affair, as all the covers to my e-books are done by my brother, Andrew Price.

'Hauntings' by Susan Price

          I have yet another collection of ghost stories on kindle, HAUNTINGS.  I like  ghost stories - I like reading them and writing them.  They aren't an easy form.
          For me, they aren't about gross-out horror.  That's for horror-stories.  Ghost stories, I feel, should unsettle or disturb in some way - but they are as much for talking about sadness and loss as fear.  They are about our shadow-side and the numinous, as well as the dead.
         But for now I'll wish you all a Merry Christmas, because this blog will be taking a break over Christmas (and eating itself sick.)
          But, before I go, Blot has a Christmas Message he wishes to impart - 

WHY ARE YOU A WRITER?

Me (seated) shortly before deciding on writing career

          A student recently asked me, “Why are you a writer?”  And since writing’s not secure or lucrative, why am I still?

          There isn’t one simple answer.

          It was an early decision.  My aunt tells me that she remembers me marching up to her and my grandmother and firmly announcing that I intended to be a writer – at four years old.  This surprises me because I thought I’d decided much, much later in life - at seven.  But, whichever, I was unwavering thereafter

          But why did an infant want to be a writer?  I used to think it was due simply to my family’s immense respect for books and writers.  My mother almost revered books, and minded us scribbling on the wallpaper far less than drawing in a book. So, in our house, saying you wanted to be a writer was sure to win approval.

          These days, I think Nature and Nurture are almost equal in influence, and my family were great story-tellers.  Throughout my childhood I heard stories of my mother’s childhood: of how one hot-tempered auntie punched her fist through a glass pane, of an uncle was taken to hospital in a wheelbarrow, of the cat which could open the door when my mother couldn’t.

My Grandmother Price

          My father countered with tales of my grandfather’s battle with a mouse called Mickey Duff, of how my great-grandfather served time for GBH – and how my Grandmother won a national newspaper’s story-writing competition.  Nearly fifty years later, I won £50 the same way.

          Telling stories was what you did.  Anything that happened, you polished into a story, with dramatic pauses, twists, punch-lines.  Writing stories down was a natural progression.

          And then, writing is acting for ugly people and action for coach-potatoes, which suits me perfectly.  I can take on whatever appearance I fancy, in whatever century, change sex, change species, even become an extra-terrestrial.  I can sail Viking ships, ride with reivers, dig a canal, emigrate to Mars – all without leaving my sofa and laptop.  As the student said, “How cool is that?”

          Lastly, writing never becomes boring.  Difficult, frustrating, head-nipping – yes.  Boring, no.  I once knew a novice writer who wrote a play for a University production.  It was well-received and the novice decided to write another for the following year.  After several months, with head severely nipped, she cried out, “It doesn’t get easier, does it?”

          She’d thought it would, you see.  Everything else she’d tried had been easier the second time, and easier still the third.  Obviously, writing would be the same.  After all, she knew how to do it now, right?

The Sterkarm Handshake

          No art – be it writing, painting, music, dancing, or even Fuzzy Mathematics – ever gets easier.  You don’t have to be Shakespeare or Beethoven for that to be true either.

          Every new piece of writing brings new problems, and exposes new areas of ignorance to be researched.  You never know where a story’s going to lead you.  You’re always learning.

          I had no idea, fifteen years ago, when I headed off for a walking holiday based in Durham, that, as a result, I was going to learn so much about the reivers and their way of life – to say nothing of modern weaponry.  Nor, that fifteen years later, I’d still be learning more.

          I’m doing what I declared I would, fifty-odd years ago, aged four.  I can’t say I regret it.

          And here's Blot -  

GHOSTS AND HAUNTINGS

Hauntings by Susan Price

          One of the jobs keeping me from house-work is turning my two collections of ghost stories, Hauntings and Nightcomers, into e-books.

          This started me thinking about ghost stories and their appeal in general.

          I know I’m not alone in considering M. R. James one of the greatest writers of ghost stories ever.  I remember reading several of his stories, one after another, one dark winter’s afternoon, while alone in the house.  I was in the kitchen, making a snack, when I heard a quiet, stealthy scratching from inside a cupboard…  After I’d dropped down from the light-fitting, I discovered that the noise had been made by a bundle of crumpled plastic bags expanding.  Ever since I’ve thought James’ stories should carry a health warning: ‘One story a day.  Do not exceed dosage.’

M. R. James

          Something I hadn’t appreciated until recently was that James is considered ‘the father of the modern ghost story’ because he did away with Gothic trappings of dungeons and ruins, and set it in what was – for him – the modern world.  He thought this necessary because he wanted his reader to feel : '”If I'm not careful, something of this kind may happen to me!'"  His modernity is easy to overlook now, because James’ antiquarians in bath-chairs seem so quaint and old-fashioned to us.

         I have nothing against the Gothic, but I largely agree with James on this.  I have set ghost stories in the past – 'Davy', in Hauntings, is one – but most of mine take place in the present, or what was the present when I wrote them.

          The world is a very strange place. The very fact that each of us is alive and self-aware is strange beyond all understanding.  One thing that a story of the supernatural can do is show this ever-present strangeness, to throw a spotlight on the strangeness that exists alongside, or hidden underneath, the everyday.  That’s why ‘Beautiful’, in Nightcomers, is set in a huge shopping mall – I wrote it after hearing my brother, who worked in one, describe what the place was like after-hours, as he made his way through it to the bus-stop.

          It’s why ‘The Landing Window’ is set on a modern housing estate (even if in an old house); and why ‘Coming Home Late’ is set in a block of council flats.  (And consider that there is more than one meaning to ‘late’.)

          Like James, I want my readers to think this might happen to them!

Nightcomers by Susan Price

          I’m also with James when he says: ‘Reticence may be an elderly doctrine to preach, yet from the artistic point of view, I am sure it is a sound one. Reticence conduces to effect, blatancy ruins it…’  Somewhere he comments that he could  make a reader physically sick, if he chose, but he scorns to do so, because it’s too easy.  It’s far more difficult, he says, to write something that is eerie, unsettling – or haunting, which is why I gave my collection that title.  Don’t come to my stories for all-out, gross-out horror.  No – I don’t want to sicken  you.  I want to get under your skin, to stay with you.

          In short, to haunt you.  It’s for you to say whether I succeed, but that’s my intent.
         Find my e-books for download here.

         And I know you're waiting for Blot - 

   

NEWS FROM @PRICECLAN STUDIOS

The witch knocks

 I'm pushed for time this week. I have to meet with my agent, on top of everything else I'm trying to keep up with.
     So I'm not writing much this week.  Instead, here's a preview of work done on the trailer for my Ghost World books.  These are all rough sketches - done in minutes, so the artist tells me - as an experiment.
          Above is the moment when the 'night-coming witch' knocks on the door of the slave-family's house.  And here, below, is the young mother, clutching her baby as she tries to protect it.

 
  The witch, demanding the child....                                            

'Give her to me!'

          The Palace of the Czar, where the newborn czarevich is imprisoned...

And the young witch - the baby, now grown-up, who saves him.

But we can't find time to meet up and discuss it!  Time, there's never enough time!

BLOT

           Hmm, this blog seems to be turning into Price Bros....

           And just to be cheeky - if you liked this blog, even a bit, pass it on.  Please!  Give it a tweet.  I have a starving muse to feed.

See more Blot at www.susanpriceauthor.com

            

CREATIVE HEADACHES

A 'ghost drum'

           I’m in the process of turning the third Ghost World book, Ghost Dance, into a kindle.

          This has involved me closely reading all three books again, some 20 years after writing them, an odd experience.  I’m relieved to find that they haven’t made me flinch with embarrassment, or want to entirely rewrite them (though I have changed the odd word.)  In fact, immodest though it may be, I think they’re good.  If you like tales of shamans in dark, frozen Czardoms, of shape-shifting, wolves, witchcraft, spirit-travelling, and barking mad czars – these are your bag.

          But the books puzzle me.  I’m an atheist (I tell myself.)  I’m hard-headed and sceptical, me.  I don’t believe in gods, or other worlds, or witches, or ghosts, or any such nonsense.

          And yet I wrote these stories, which are all about spirit-travelling and following the Ghost Road to the Ghost World.  I may have taken some of the ideas from myth and folklore, but I chose to inhabit these characters and these worlds.  I could have written a story set in the solid, hard-headed world around me. But I didn’t.

          It wasn’t just a case of ‘making up a story’ either.  I remember, quite clearly, the compulsion I felt to write these books.  ‘Ghost Drum’ took me three years, and exhausted me, but I couldn’t give it up.  And as soon as it was finished, I wrote Ghost Song, which is Ghost Drum’s mirror-image.  In ‘Drum’, on midwinter night, a female shaman demands a baby-girl from her mother, and is given her. In ‘Song’, on midsummer night, a male shaman demands a baby boy from his father, and is refused.

As soon as Song was finished, I had to write Ghost Dance, driven by a nagging feeling of unfinished business.  I had wanted the barking mad Czar to be a central character in Drum – but he was pushed aside by other characters.  I felt I still had to write his book – and, in Dance, Czar Grozni is truly mad, bad and dangerous even if you don’t know him.

          I’ve long been drawn to the theory that the two walnut-like halves of our brains operate as individual personalities.  I think the one we’re less aware of – which has more time to put its feet up and day-dream – supplies all the best and most original of our ideas.  It knows what we really want.  It’s the ‘muse’ which whispers in artists’ ears.  (I’ve written more about my ‘muse’ here.)

          Some day I must blog about what I learned from Lucy Coats about ‘creative napping’, otherwise known as ‘a guided spirit-journey.’  One half of me finds it deeply intriguing and useful.  The other half is absolutely furious that it works; and the two halves end up scrapping like cats.

          One half of me is hard-headed and sceptical, all right.  Wants a reason and an explanation for everything.  It makes a great editor.

          The other half, the one that dreams up the ideas and images – well, that half is, and has always been, drawn towards the ghostly, the strange, the fantastic, the inexplicable, the numinous.

          There’s the ‘creative dynamic’ for you.  Pass the aspirin.

BLOT

Search Amazon.com Electronics for kindle 3 
                            

LET'S MAKE THE FILM RIGHT HERE! In Our Kitchen...

£1.71  Ghost Dance by Susan Price  $2.99

          I met up with my brothers last week, and mentioned that I was days away from publishing my third book on kindle, GHOST DANCE, the third book in the Ghost World sequence.

          Adam looked at Andrew and said, “We ought to make a trailer for them!”  Andrew enthusiastically agreed, and the rest of the afternoon was spent in planning how it could be done for no money at all.

          I never asked them to do it!  It was, I swear, entirely their own idea.  For all the attempts I’ve been making to let the world know that my books are on the kindle, making a trailer had never occurred to me.

          But, both my brothers love films, and they’re both artists.  (Andrew, the older, has worked as an artist for a computer games firm, and does the book covers for my kindle books; and Adam has published cartoons, and draws the Blot cartoons.) They said it would be a fun way of teaching themselves some new programmes and techniques.

          There followed a long discussion of whether to use stills, or some kind of puppets, or animated paper cut-outs.  What dissolves would be best.  “Can we get Alan (our cousin) to play some music for us?”

           They are going to meet up this Thursday, to draw up a story-board.

          I don’t know if it will come to anything, but I’m agog.  I’m even prepared to disturb the moths in my purse and buy them a camcorder (though the last I heard they were planning to borrow my aunt’s.  Keep it in the family is our motto.  This is why my Twitter name is @priceclan.)
          Film trailers are nothing new of course.  My friend and fellow Scattered Author, Katherine Langrish, has made a trailer for her book DARK ANGELS I love it (and the book) and played the trailer to my brothers for educational and inspirational purposes.

          I think Kath’s short film captures the atmosphere of her book brilliantly, and I’m impressed by its quality.  If Kath had told me she’d paid large splodges of moolah to have it made professionally, I wouldn’t have doubted it, but in fact she made it herself, with help from her family.

          I’ll be thrilled if my family can come up with something as good.  You can bet I’ll keep you posted on the progress of PriceClan Studios.

        

And here's Blott -

There are more Blot cartoons at www.susanpriceauthor.com