What I've been up to

I recently ran an editing workshop at Derby's QUAD (part of the UK Ghost Story Festival 2026). It was lovely to see so many people in the throes of their edits (and first drafts), all interested in the process of editing. I feel this is the stage in book writing where the real work happens. Of course, you need some kind of draft, however rough, for an edit to happen, but the message I wanted to get across is that it isn't about word-smithing or grammar till the very last stages - what matters most is getting your story right – what happens, when, and why, and how you choose to tell it.

Reading books, or watching TV and films, is the best way to learn. What other people do. It's so interesting to think about a writer's Point Of View, timeline, and what they choose to tell, or hold back, or how they plant an important event, or drip feed those little clues. Whether it's about character, an intriguing plot twist, or a masterful piece of dialogue, planning and crafting those moments can be so much fun. 

One of my favourite scenes is from the TV series Bad Sisters, when Ursula is tricked into a texting exchange with her dastardly brother-in-law, JP. It's a family lunch party for Easter, and surrounded by her sisters, Ursula thinks she's texting her secret lover. There's a brilliant exchange of graduated emotions and micro reveals, only for the penny to drop when Ursula realises she's just sent a very incriminating photo to the wrong phone... 

I guess I'm half way between a plotter and a pantser. I have a good idea of what my story is before I start (including major themes, twists and the ending), but don't pin down every scene. I like that first draft to unfold in the moment, so I feel the same excitement (hopefully) as the reader. By the time I've read it through, and had another go, inevitably I realise how much work there's still to do!

It's a process, and having a clear mind, mental space, and maybe a "room of my own" is crucial for me. I aim for a quiet hiding place too - I'm no good at writing in a busy environment.

The last few years have been hard, because I found myself becoming a full-time carer – first for my Dad (who had cancer) and then, after he died, for my Mum (who had Alzheimer's). They'd both lived in Oxford, but even after Mum came to live with me and my family in Derbyshire, there was lack of sleep and round the clock personal care, legal and financial responsibilities, family politics, grief for the loss of Dad, and all the practical stuff liaising with health professionals and managing Mum's slow but inevitable decline. It filled my time, my heart, and mind. The one constant has been my love of books.

I'd sit in a chair next to Mum, reading some of the classics I'd never got round to. Mum could no longer follow a story, or speak very much, but she relished the company. So I'd sit with her, sometimes with her hand in mine, or with a cat on her lap or mine, and silently read in short bursts. I got through Catch 22, HG Well's The Time Machine, Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian. They weren't all easy reads (or particularly cheering!), but nonetheless absorbing. If I had some respite care, I'd snatch an hour in the garden shed writing, or get out to a café with my laptop, and it would take my mind off things. For a while.

Sadly, Mum passed away last July, peacefully in our home, with her family (and our cats) around her. Since then, more "life admin" has got in the way, but I couldn't wait to get back to writing. I bashed out a first draft, sought feedback, then dived in again. But it has taken time to adjust to Mum's loss, as well as no longer being a carer, to clear my head enough to see the story hiding in those early efforts, but also process what I've been through.

Yes, my circumstances have been a bit full-on these last few years. But life does that, and it matters, to be there for a loved one. It all feeds in to the thoughts and ideas bubbling in your head. I'm sure my writing is the better for it, even if I've had to stop for a while.

Clarity of thought can be so exhilarating once you're "in the flow" again. The urge to write never went. Which is why it was so lovely to meet everyone at the workshop in QUAD. It wasn't just a reminder of the process, but the joy in words and story that we shared around the table: a group of writers from very diverse backgrounds, each juggling a 90,000-word (or so) story we feel passionate about.

If this resonates with you – as reader, writer or carer - stick with it, but also take the time you need to give yourself a break. When life allows, and opportunity opens up again, you will get back to it. The clarity and energy will return, and when it does, it will mean all the more.

Images in order: Gothic hydrangeas near Lake Coniston in the Lake District, a new addition to the family especially for Mum, gooseberry hot air balloons from the garden, and a Game of Thrones' moment in St Conan's Kirk by Loch Awe (research trip!).