Thursday, 30 July 2020

Searching through a box for something else, look what I came across last night. Cheery background reading for Before This Is Over/An Ordinary Epidemic circa 2009. 

Wednesday, 17 June 2020

My little book - about grappling with your fears, about holding your course in the face of voices telling you to chill, about sheltering in place in a pandemic - is out in paperback in the US today. 

Friday, 5 June 2020

Takes a while to open a box of books when you have to stop between each stage to wash your hands for twenty seconds.

Worth it.

Sunday, 31 May 2020

US paperback out June

The US paperback of Before This Is Over will be in stores June. With a new cover!

Monday, 1 January 2018

Saturday, 30 December 2017

The Invisible Made Visible

I've been thinking about this year and what a strange experience it has been. And one of the things that strikes me is how immensely grateful I am for the internet. Specifically, to every blogger who, whether they liked my book or not, took the time to read it and write a review. To the bloggers who hosted me for interviews, Q&As, guest posts and excerpts. To every Goodreads user who read and reviewed or rated it.

Before This Is Over was published internationally this year. I didn't expect it to be published at all - writing it was a bit of a perverse obsession, like working really, really hard at hand crafting a lottery ticket - let alone in the US and the UK as well. I keep having to stop and remind myself that wasn't an elaborate hoax, it happened. Along the way I've discovered something that I'd read about but didn't grasp until I'd lived it. A writer works on writing a book for (in my case) years and the publication process takes another few years, and finally it's out. And then it's like the book takes off on a voyage of its own and only occasionally thinks to send a postcard.

When it was published in Oz back in 2015, I got to go around to bookshops, talk to the bookshop staff, see copies on shelves, and it felt real. Twice this year my book has landed on foreign shelves and half way around the world, while I've slept, people have bought it and read it. So now I realise that unlike, say, the theatre where an audience is right there expressing a reaction, for a writer most of their audience is forever invisible to them. The book comes out and we just have to trust that someone, somewhere is silently reading it.

I'm battling with a story that I think will be good if I can ever work out how to tell it, and when it's getting the better of me and I wonder why I thought I could do this, I can tell myself that I wrote a story once before and there were people who I've never met who enjoyed it and engaged with the ideas. And I know that because they wrote about it on their blog. Nothing prepared me for how it felt to read a review and know that someone really got something I put in there even though I thought no one else would pick it up.

I've said it before but it bears saying again. I'm also grateful to MidnightSun and Anna Solding for picking it off the slush pile. To Dan Lazar and Writers House for believing it could go further. To Asya Muchnick and Little, Brown and to Marion Donaldson and Headline for bringing it to a wider world. And to them all for taking me on a wild and unexpected ride.

Saturday, 11 November 2017

Writing Is Not A Spectator Sport

I have a piece up today on WeHeartWriting - 'Writing is Not a Spectator Sport'. It's something I feel strongly about. We seem to have lost the assumption that we are creators and have settled for being consumers.

"The arts have become spectator sports. We read, we watch, we peruse, we listen. And if we ‘do’, its value is measured in money or clicks or fame. And I think that’s wrong. [...] The act of creating is an end in itself, whether you are ‘good’ at it or not. It should be done for its own sake."