Author: Angeline Trevena

This month, I attended my first literary convention: Edge Lit, an annual science fiction, fantasy, and horror convention in Derby, UK. The event was packed full of panel discussions, workshops and book launches, and even boasted a guestlist including Charles Stross and Joe Abercrombie.

This was a particularly monumental event for me, as I wasn’t just attending as a guest. I was attending as a writer, my name was even included in the programme. KnightWatch Press was launching three of their anthologies there, one of which was ‘Potatoes’ that includes my short story ‘Killing Ghosts’. As part of the book launch, I read an excerpt from it.

Before attending, I read lots of convention advice blog posts, I asked for advice and top tips, and I did my best to follow them. So, armed with my freshly printed business cards, I rocked up to the event and spoke to the first person I met in the doorway. It was a good start.

Due to my involvement in the event, the workshops and panels I could attend were limited, but I managed to catch two panels about horror writing – one on modern ghost stories and one about blending horror with other genres. Armed with my notebook, I wrote down interesting snippets, book recommendations, and soundbites.

I attended a Penny Dreadfuls writing workshop led by horror writer Kim Lakin-Smith. I’ve always been a big fan of gothic horror, and have had some success in writing it, so it was brilliant to complete a workshop and pick up some great tips and tricks. As a mini-practice for my upcoming reading at the book launch, I offered to read what I had written in the class, with Kim making me promise to finish it so that she could read it someday.

At lunch I broke the cardinal convention rule – never eat alone. If I had spotted another attendee eating alone, I would have joined them, and I tried to make myself look as friendly as possible, but in the end it was a blown chance to network.

I picked things back up again after lunch, chatting and befriending some of the other KnightWatch Press writers, including one who had a story in the same anthology as me. I handed out business cards and we promised to keep in touch. I had expected to return home with a whole pile of business cards and people to contact, but I didn’t meet any other writers who had them, which really surprised me. Still, I’ve now connected with some writers who are Edge Lit regulars, so when I go next year I won’t need to eat alone.

Over the following days I’ve got in contact with everyone I met, merely to say hello, it was nice to meet you, but it’s important to make that contact. We’ll follow each other on social networks, we’ll share each other’s posts and maybe get guest blog space on each other’s sites. And that’s what it’s about – making connections that help you along your way.

So here are my top tips for Literary Conventions:

• Have business cards. Make sure the details are up to date, and that the design matches your website. Give people something to remember you by.
• Mark up business cards you get given. Just one sentence scribbled on the back so that you remember who was who.
• If you have a book, have an elevator pitch ready and practised. When people ask what your book is about, they don’t want to be tied up for 20 minutes while you tell them about it.
• If you don’t have a book, have an elevator pitch about yourself. Make it something memorable.
• Take notes in panels and workshops.
• Talk to strangers. It can be scary, but at a convention people are expecting it. And, to be honest, the person you speak to is probably just relieved that you saved them from having to pluck up the courage to talk to you.
• Don’t be there to sell, sell, sell. Be friendly, ask people questions, make good connections. Don’t just thrust your book into people’s faces.
• Don’t eat alone, and don’t go out of the venue to eat. This is your greatest networking space – you can’t talk to people during panels and workshops, and if they’re eating, they can’t run away from you!
• Always follow up with the people you meet. Send them a short message—be it an email or via a social network—just to say that you enjoyed meeting them. And then nurture that relationship, before meeting up with them at the convention next year. You never know who they might introduce you to.

I’ve been immersing myself in writing advice a lot lately. I think it’s a really important thing for any writer to do on a regular basis. Not only do trends and styles keep changing in literature, but there is always something new to learn, however accomplished or experienced you are. But, for me, that’s the beauty of writing.

I’ve just finished reading ‘Writers Workshop of Horror‘ edited by Michael Knost. Packed with essays and interviews from some of the biggest names in horror writing (including Clive Barker himself), I’ve learned something new in every single chapter. I highly recommend this book.

The only problem I have with reading writing advice books, is that my mind keeps drifting to whatever story I’m working on, thinking of the improvements I could make. I find myself having to re-read so many paragraphs. I do the same with the Podcasts I listen to. I guess that’s not a bad thing really.

But the thing to remember about advice is this: it is only one writer’s opinion.

The creative process is such an individualized one that it is completely different for everyone. Not all of the advice you read or hear will be the best advice for you. It is simply what works well for that particular writer. But that’s certainly not to say all advice is useless – you will only learn through trial and error what works best for you. Take the advice, try it out, see if it fits.

I’ve ignored a lot of writing advice over the years. Advice like; write for 8 hours every day, always finish a first draft before you do any editing, writer’s block is just an excuse used by lazy writers. Some writing advice is good, but doesn’t work for me, and some writing advice is just bad. Only experience will tell you the difference.

Over the last couple of months I’ve ignored another piece of writing advice; never, ever give up on a story. It’s advice bandied around all the time by a lot of writers. But it does not always apply.

Back in May I took the gut-wrenching decision to shelve a novella for the fourth time. I have tried to write this story so many times now, and I was determined not to let it beat me again. But it did. To be honest, I don’t think I have the experience to write it yet. I will write it, but now isn’t the time. It was a decision I wrestled over for weeks; thinking that this failure forecast the fact that I will never be a long-form writer.

The trouble with writing advice is, for every gem that makes us a better writer, there’s advice that makes you feel inadequate, foolish, guilty even. For years I believed that I could never make it as a writer unless I did that daily 8 hour slog. But you have to find your own way in the world, and shelving this novella, giving myself the space to write something else, has worked out for me brilliantly. My new novella is literally falling out of me. The ultimate truth is that you will never be a writer if you don’t write. And you need to write to completion. If that means starting over with a new idea, so be it.

I’ve just finished the 1st draft of my latest short story, a story I started afresh with after my first attempt stalled. My first idea for this submissions call brought some unintended themes into the story that I’m simply not comfortable writing about. I came to despise, even fear the story and the implications of its plot. That’s why it stalled. So I started over, and within two days, I had almost equalled the previous word count that had taken two weeks to achieve.

My second attempt came so easily (well, as easily as writing ever comes), that my fingers could barely type as fast as my brain demanded. You know those times. Yesterday, as I was approaching the climax of the story, I could literally feel excitement bubbling up inside me. I could barely sit still in my chair. I’ve never experienced something quite like that before.

So never feel guilt-tripped into following advice that doesn’t work for you. Never let another writer make you feel inadequate. You only have to answer to yourself. As long as you’re writing, as long as you’re finishing things, then you’re doing it right. And if not, try something new. Try ignoring some advice.

As writers, we all know that our creativity waxes and wanes, that our inspiration ebbs like the tide, and that motivation is sometimes harder to find than your car keys when you’re running late. We’ve all struggled with the times we’d rather just slob in front of the TV, or post pointless updates on Facebook, or shop for another new notebook.

But on the other side of the coin, we all know the exhilaration of when things are going well. When the words flow out of you, and your typing can’t keep up with your thoughts. When every word is genius, when your characters do just what you want them to do, when your plot if fantastic. Those days when you really can imagine book signings with a queue out the door, and movie deals piling in your letter box. Those times when you finally look up from writing and realize it’s 3am, or that you’ve skipped a meal or two, or forgotten to go to work. Those days when the muse is your best friend, when she stays close and loyal.

And don’t you just wish you could bottle that?

When the muse calls, we have to jump. Even if all you can manage to do is scribble a few notes for working on later. She’s impatient and fickle, and she’ll be gone as quickly and unexpectedly as she came. But there are things that you can do to keep hold of the motivation.

• Be prepared. The muse can pop up at any time, any place, so fill your life with handy notebooks and pens. Have one by your bed, next to the toilet, in your coat pocket, your bag, the car. Carry a voice recorder, a camera. When inspiration strikes, make sure you’re ready to document it.
• Make the most of it. When the muse wants your attention, give it to her. Turn off the TV, cancel your dinner plans, cancel sleep, meals, life. Just tie yourself to your computer and type like it’s going out of fashion. Type until you wear your fingers down to the bone. Type even after the muse has left. If you have to cancel plans with friends and family, just dedicate your novel to them; they’ll forgive you.
• Take notes. When you’re really flowing, your head often moves a lot quicker than your hands. Keep a notepad next to you and jot down phrases, images, ideas, names, as they come to you. Don’t presume you’ll remember them three sentences later.
• End your writing session mid-thought. This is the best writing advice I’ve ever been given. Don’t end your writing session at the end of a chapter, or a scene, or a paragraph. If you do, you’re starting cold on your next session, starting without a clear directional pointer. If you finish your session mid-scene, mid-sentence, mid-word even, you can hit the ground running when you come back to it. Your characters will forgive you for cutting them off so abruptly.
• Find your excitement. When you find your motivation beginning to fade, remind yourself of the things that made you excited about this story in the first place. Re-read your favorite bits, write out your favorite section and stick it up on your wall.
• Gain motivation from others. Motivation can be contagious. Print out quotes from your favorite authors, follow the careers of writers you want to emulate. Or find writers you hate, writers you’re jealous of, and follow their successes. Aim to be better.
• Set goals. Give yourself something to aim for. Make them small and timely. If your goal is ‘get published within the next 5 years’, it’s easy to keep putting it off and become distracted. Go for something like ‘write 500 words a day’, ‘edit a chapter a day’, or simply ‘write solidly for 20 minutes’. And if you achieve it? Treat yourself, you deserve it. (But don’t forget to punish yourself if you don’t!)
• Make yourself accountable. Commit yourself to goals publicly; you’re more likely to stick to things if other people will notice if you don’t. Blog about your goals, Tweet about them, hook up with a goal-partner online and motivate one another to keep going.
• Think positive. I know that it’s a cliché, but it really is true-having the right mindset will help you to achieve. Focus on the benefits, not the difficulties.

When the writing is hard, when it’s boring, tiresome, and getting in the way of fun, if you can keep going then, on those days; then you can achieve anything you set your mind to.

I love that excitement of a brand new idea. It’s shiny and fresh, it’s full of the potential to be the greatest idea in the world. Maybe this is the one that will make you a millionaire. You’re discovering a new world, new characters, new adventures. It’s even a little dangerous.

But then, eventually, that moment comes when the novelty wears off a little. You feel a little lost, it’s not panning out as you expected, the characters just aren’t as engaging as you wanted them to be. You find yourself forgetting why you wanted to write this in the first place. Writing slows to a crawling pace, before stopping altogether. Even thinking about writing makes you want to do housework instead. Anything to avoid it.

What’s the most inventive avoidance tactic you’ve ever used? I’ve even found myself taking selfies of myself (supposedly) writing, just to avoid actually writing.

So how can you rediscover that love for your story? How can you kickstart it once it’s stalled? Here’s a few tips and tricks to try:

• Remind yourself why you loved the idea in the first place. Read back over what you’ve written, read over your original planning notes. Read your favourite paragraph or piece of dialogue. Your original excitement is somewhere in your writing, you just need to find it.
• Edit the opening. Some people will tell you to never edit until you’ve finished your first draft, but it’s a great way to get yourself going again. It allows you to have a fresh perspective on the story, to see more of the potential with a little polishing.
• Take a break. Step away from the story, let it ferment a little. Go for a walk, do the washing up, work on something else. Take a break from it for a while and come back to it refreshed. As long as you do come back to it. Don’t let it become another unfinished project in your desk drawer.
• Introduce a new character. A new character brings with it a new dynamic, a new plot twist, a new perspective. Bring in an antagonist, a love interest, a side-kick, a mentor. Bring in someone, and see what new dimension they can add to the story.
• Kill off an existing character. Likewise, losing a character adds a new dynamic. Kill off a favourite character to keep your readers on their toes, or let your protagonist kill off a character to throw their life off track.
• Write from another character’s point of view. Whether or not this makes it into the final edit, just give it a try. View your story from a new angle, view your characters through someone else’s eyes. You might just learn something you didn’t know before.
• Share a secret. Let your protagonist discover a secret. Or let them share a secret. How does this change things for them? How does this change the plot, or the relationships?
• Let your character fall in (or out) of love. How does this complicate their life? Does it lead them off their path or further them along it?
• Tell a lie. Let your protagonist tell a whopper, or let someone else deceive them. How does this affect things? Look at the difference between the characters that believe the lie, and those that know the truth. What tension does this add to the story?
• Go somewhere new. Let your protagonist travel somewhere they’ve never been before. Whether it’s into the next-door-neighbour’s garden, or halfway round the globe, let them experience somewhere new. Who do they meet? What do they see? What do they learn?
• Start shouting. Start an argument between two characters. What gets revealed, and how does this change things? What happens to their relationship?

Whether or not these things make it into the final edit, they are great ways to inject some new excitement into your story. They change things and mix everything up a bit. Let loose, be reckless, don’t be scared to wander off course. And have some fun playing.

Every writer has heard the old adage ‘write what you know’, but common as the statement is, it is just as commonly misunderstood. Writing what you know doesn’t mean that I can only ever write about 30-something British women who have slightly mental cats and eat too much chocolate. It doesn’t mean all my stories need to be set between 1980 and the present day, or that they even need to be set on Planet Earth.

Writing what you know is about using real life experiences to inform, inspire and enhance your fiction. Writing what you know means remembering a time I had my heart broken and using that to write about a character who has suffered the same. It’s about remembering the smell of a forest after rain, and writing that smell into my story. It’s about eating chocolate so that I can describe exactly what it tastes like (and it’s about knowing that eating chocolate really is research and, therefore, a totally legitimate use of writing time. However, I don’t think it makes chocolate tax-deductible. Sadly.)

Writing what you know is about making your fiction real and believable by seasoning it with your own experiences, and experiences your readers can also relate to. Because, believe me, however unique you think you are, we all feel exactly the same way when we stub our big toe on a table leg.

I’m currently writing a story about ancient shamanistic rituals. They’re completely made up from my own head and have no base in reality at all. But I’m pulling in all the real-life experience I do have; things I’ve read, things I’ve seen on TV and in movies, my personal knowledge and experiences of organised religion and its associated rites and rituals. And while I’ve never been involved in such a ritual, I can draw on other experiences such as physical exhaustion, fear, confusion, and that weird out-of-body feeling when you first wake up but you’re still immersed in the world of your dreams.

While the overall scenario is complete fiction, it is informed by what I know and, hopefully, what my reader also knows. A reader may not be able to relate to the ritual itself, but they can relate to the individual feelings I’ve brought into the piece from my own life. They can place themselves right in the middle of the fictional ritual, and imagine what it would be like, because there is something there that they can relate to. Something they can believe. Something that feels familiar.

When you’re pulling from your own experience of the real world, remember to include all the senses, all the different facets of relating to stimuli:

• Sight
• Smell
• Sound
• Taste
• Touch
• Emotion

These are the ways in which you, and your reader, access and understand the real world, and you can make your fictional world more real by using all of them. Use them to place yourself right inside your fictional world and, in turn, pull your reader in with you.

While using first-hand experience may give the best results, the internet has opened up a whole world of previously-inaccessible knowledge to writers. Using Google Maps you can not only view the layouts of cities you have never been too, but you can walk down their streets, look at the shops and the people there. You can research just about anything, and even talk to people on the other side of the globe about their lives. The world is a varied and diverse place, and you can access nearly all of it from your own living room. Because we can’t all afford to fly across the world to do some research.

So be curious, ask questions and, as much as you can, try to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. But above all, ask yourself, what can I draw from in my own life to inform my writing? Where have I been? What have I done? And, most importantly, who am I?

Women in Horror Recognition Month (WiHM) assists female genre artists in gaining opportunities, exposure, and education, working towards a vision of a world wherein all individuals are equally given the opportunity to create, share, and exploit their concept of life, pain, and freedom of expression.

Every February, WiHM supporters host events (blood drives, film screenings, art shows), write blogs and articles, conduct interviews, and create videos and podcasts with a focus on expanding the opportunities and supporting the achievements of women involved in the most extreme storytelling genre: horror.

As a female horror writer, it is a vision I hugely support having experienced, first hand, the bias towards men in the horror genre. It is a genre in which the male is the default hero, where women are largely portrayed as little more than damsels in distress. But it isn’t just in the characters that the gender bias is seen. It is a fact that there are less women being published in the horror genre, and it is an imbalance that needs to be readdressed in the attitudes of both the publishers and the readers, as well as amongst the writing community itself.

As part of WiHM, I have interviewed fellow female horror writer, Lova Lovén. Lova is a Swedish writer with a background in Gender Studies. Her short stories, including ‘Under Hennes Hud’ (‘Beneath Her Skin’) and ‘Dead Woman’ among others, have been published in Swedish anthologies. She is currently living and writing in Amsterdam. You can visit her website at lovaloven.com

How did you first become interested in horror, and what led you to write in that genre?
My mother loves horror, and when I was about nine years old I remember complaining about the lack of books in the school library. She put Stephen King’s ‘IT’ in my hands, and kept supplying me with horror books (and movies) as I grew up. I remember falling asleep to the haunting music of Clive Barker’s ‘Nightbreed’, which incidentally was the first movie to underline what I as a child had long suspected: that monsters were not necessarily bad. Before then I had already spent some time wading through all the horror stories for kids, and wondered if there was anything scarier lurking under the bed (there was, and it came in the form of a clown with sharp teeth).

Filling up school notebooks with poorly illustrated stories was a favorite pastime for a long time. Back then I didn’t realize what I was actually doing and it took years – and several different paths – before I found that I had it right all along.

I write horror because I have a lot of fear, and because I take comfort in strange company. Stories want to be told, characters want to be heard and monsters want to come out and play.

How do people react when you tell them that you write horror?
Disinterested disbelief? Something like that. Often followed by a nervous laughter. I feel like I immediately get pigeonholed as a weirdo (footnote: possibly dangerous). I don’t mind, it’s a pretty good indication whether they are potential readers or not. I have never met a horror fan who looked at me strangely for writing horror.

That being said, I have picked up a note of hesitation: ‘you’re a girl and write horror? That’s… interesting.’ As if I am expected to explain myself. I doubt this is a unique experience. Many female horror writers get that reaction, I suspect. Is it that women are not supposed to wade through blood and gore (unless they’re in labour), venture into dark places (unless it’s a 60% off shoe sale) or destroy mankind (unless it’s that time of the month)? I can’t say. However, I can say that people in general will pin you as either female or male, and the labels come with a truckload of expectations and assumptions that brand you before you even open your mouth. Consider which cardboard gender stereotype is expected to tell the gruesome horror stories – and which one is not.

Why do you think that horror is such a male-dominated genre?
It’s an interesting question, one that I can’t give a short answer to. It deserves an essay at the very least, but I’ll give speculations a go. Despite the fact that the founder of the horror genre is a woman (I will assume that everyone reading this have also read Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’.), writing in itself was not generally accepted for women during that time. By the time more and more women began to write, horror books went hand in hand with horror movies. And as much as I love horror movies, that genre has practically uninvited women as a group for many years. Yes, once in a blue moon you get a female character like Ellen Ripley in Alien, but more often you get hysterical teenage girls who die gruesome deaths if they happen to enjoy their lady-parts. And how many female writers want to join an industry that can’t handle women unless they’re virgins or victims? These are just speculations, but I think it’s safe to say that the horror genre historically has done little to invite women as readers and writers.

The horror market in Sweden is so small compared to the American one – it is still in the making. We don’t have a great number of horror writers as it is, but it’s growing and female writers are part of it.

How do you think women can readdress this balance?
Well, first of all let’s include everybody. Editors (female and male) can be aware of the gender structures in society that colour the horror market. The horror genre is not created in a vacuum – and neither are the editors, the writers, the readers or the stories.

But what can we do as female horror writers? Write. Submit. Rinse and repeat.

But be aware that we are holding up a mirror with our stories. They have impact. So, take a long hard look at your own work. Do you reproduce idiotic stereotypes? Are all your victims women? And so on. Get out of your comfort zone and write the stories that will invite the next generation to the horror genre.

It’s inevitable that, at times, real life has to take priority over writing. After all, it’s not my writing that pays the bills.

Last year, as Christmas quickly approached, I found myself busy with family stuff – visiting relatives, buying presents, planning for the big day. Everyone gets busy at that time of year, especially if they’re parents. So I didn’t worry about letting my writing slip. I crossed some submission deadlines out of my diary, and let the weeks slide by without writing anything at all. But that was fine; it was Christmas and I deserved a break.

New Year came and went and I prepared for starting a new job; a job that not only takes four days out of my week when my previous job had only been three days, but a job that is far more emotionally draining. I often find myself so tired that I’m in bed before 9pm, not having turned on my computer at all.

I’ve started and abandoned three stories through January. Two because they were going nowhere, and a third because I had no chance of meeting the deadline. In fact, I’ve been letting a lot of deadlines pass me by. I’ve become unreliable, uninspired, unmotivated and, for the first time ever, apathetic about writing.

I’ve always been good at coming up with excuses (one of my many useless talents) – “I deserve it”, “It’s reduced, so really I’m saving money”, or “Of course carrot cake is a vegetable”. And right now, I’m just waiting for my real life to settle down a bit, for my body to fully adjust to its new routine, and then I’ll get back to writing. Won’t I?

The other thing that’s not helping me rediscover my motivation is that I currently have four stories that have been accepted and are just waiting for their publication date. I have two more waiting for their yes or no response. So I’m doing well, I deserve a break. Surely.

Sounds like I’m trying to convince myself of it.

But any creative energy is going to wax and wane. And as long as it’s not my main income, I can afford to let it. I’m not going to feel guilty about stepping back for a little while. Quite often, a break from writing leaves me refreshed and raring to go when I do get back into it.

But the false starts I’ve suffered from in January have me a little worried. I think I’m struggling more than I care to admit. And I’ve not seen a call for submissions that’s really sparked my inspiration for a while now. I think it’s time to work on something for me, not for someone else. I have a few stories I’ve been holding on ice, stories I want to write for myself, not for any particular anthology, just for me. It’s about time my muse came back from her holiday anyway.