RIP Elmore Leonard

Writer Elmore John Leonard passed away last Tuesday 20th August 2013. He died surrounded by his family after suffering a stroke at the age of 87. His funeral was held in the author's home town of Birmingham, Michigan, on Saturday. Elmore was an American novelist and screenwriter whose earliest novels, published in the 1950s, were Westerns. However he went on to specialize in crime fiction and suspense thrillers, many of which have been adapted into motion pictures. Remember Maximum Bob, Out of Sight and Get Shorty?

Elmore was renowned for his terse, no-nonsense style and sparse use of dialogue, his works inspired numerous screen adaptations. The author of 45 novels, Elmore had been in the process of writing his 46th. In an interview with Radio 4's Broadcasting House that was aired on Sunday, presenter Paddy O'Connell asked Elmore's son, Peter Leonard, whether he would finish the book.
"I would, I think so," he replied. "It's been discussed among family members and I've talked to Greg Sutter, Elmore's longtime researcher. "At the funeral, another son, Bill, told mourners, "Everyone knows that Elmore was a great writer. But only a few of us know that he was a great father - funny, patient and incredibly generous."

Following the service, Leonard, who served as a Navy seaman during World War II, was given military honours, which included the playing of taps and a flag-folding ceremony. As well as the order of service, attendees were given a small card listing Leonard's famous 10 Rules of Writing. Here are the 10 Rules.

1. Never open a book with weather. If it’s only to create atmosphere, and not create a character’s reaction to the weather, you don’t want to go on too long.

Notice how he immediately gets the focus where it belongs: on character. We read not to learn that it’s a glorious day but to understand how a character feels when the day of her lover’s funeral is the kind of sultry day they loved best.

2. Avoid prologues.

Here, Mr. Leonard immediately breaks his own rule, citing a prologue that serves a purpose: “There is a prologue in John Steinbeck’s Sweet Thursday, but it’s okay because a character in the book makes the point of what my rules are all about.”

3. Never use a verb other than “said” to carry dialogue. The line of dialogue belongs to the character; the verb is the writer sticking his nose in.

*note to self* Go and edit your dialogue Angela!

4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb “said” … he admonished gravely. To use an adverb this way (or almost any way) is a mortal sin.

*note to self* Go to confession!

5. Keep your exclamation marks under control. You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose.

*note to self* Eeek!!!!!

6. Never use the words “suddenly” or “all hell broke loose.”

7. Use regional dialect or patois sparingly.

8. Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.

In Ernest Hemingway’s Hills Like White Elephants, what do the “American and the girl with him” look like? “She had taken off her hat and put it on the table.” That’s the only reference to a physical description in the story, and yet we see the couple and know them by their tones of voice, with not one adverb in sight.

9. Don’t go into great detail describing places and things.

10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.

Elmore Leonard concluded his rules by citing his most important rule – the one that sums up all of the rules:

If it sounds like writing, I re-write it.


Rest In Peace Elmore Leonard.

Trapped Butterfly

I thought I'd share a poem I wrote for a writing competition. The theme was Turn Back The Clock and the poem had to include this phrase. It's a little dark, but I was absolutely thrilled to win first place.

Trembling behind gauze, like a trapped butterfly
Listening to the scrunch of rubber on gravel.
He’s home.
A door slams as headlights fade.
How can a lover become a stranger,
As swiftly as a once polished plum
Becomes covered in a delicate froth of fungi?
Turn back the clock to those heady fruitful days
When love blossomed.
Shared dreams divided by time
And split like parched wood.
Unnourished.
His footfall, once a welcoming tread,
Now splinter my calm with regret
As he strides on the polished parquet.
Turn back the clock to a time when our words tumbled
like a rushing brook in a spring thaw.
Before the wordless air ambushed me,
Squeezing my breath at his glance.
A look which once glowed with love,
Now glowers.
Loving praise decayed into mute criticism.
A curl of his lip.
Turn back the clock to a time when the sun shone
On entwined fingers, and a passionate embrace.
His kiss, once lingering and heartfelt is but a memory,
Bleached pale by time’s incessant race.
“Goodnights” unspoken.
An extinguished bulb
Signals the end of his day.

Angela Barton

Song of the Storm by Mariam Kobras

Welcome everyone! Please take a seat on the veranda, relax and help yourself to a glass of pink bubbles and a slice of celebration cake.

I joined twitter several years ago with a view to making friends with fellow writers. As I floundered around with lists, trending and re-tweets, Mariam Kobras found me and welcomed me with open arms. She has been an online friend ever since as we've shared advice, offered support, drunk coffee at the #writerscoffeebar or just chatted like friends do! It's been a delight to watch Mariam's writing flourish and her novels become published by Buddhapuss Ink - and no-one deserves her success more than she does. Please settle back and enjoy this blog hop interview about her latest novel, Song of the Storm.

Can you condense your novel into a few sentences for us?

Hmm... I’ll try. This is the conclusion of the Stone Trilogy, and it’s called Song of the Storm.
My protagonists, Jon and Naomi, have finally settled down in their house on the Brooklyn Promenade, and are expecting a baby. Life seems peaceful until they realize that their friend Sal—Jon’s manager—is having an affair with a girl, Maya, who he’s trying to turn into a copy of Naomi.
To test her assumption, she invites Sal and Maya to spend a few weeks at Jon’s house in Malibu.
I’m not going to tell you much more, except to say that not even the Stones, or their families and friends, are safe when terror strikes the heart of New York City.

How did you come up with the title?

Jon and Naomi are both creative people: Jon is a songwriter, Naomi a lyricist and novelist. They put into words and music what they encounter in life; be it love, beauty, yearning, pain, or disaster. For them, it will always be a song. This time, it’s the Song of the Storm.
The song of the ultimate storm in New York City.

What was the hardest part of writing your book?

Surprisingly, the part that made me write the book in the first place.
You may have guessed by now that part of this novel deals with what happened on September 11th, 2001.
I wasn’t there myself that day, but some people very close to my heart were. Even now, twelve years later, I can see what that day did to them. It was a very sobering experience to see one of them falter while trying to describe what happened to and around her that day. In part, this book is for them. They aren’t part of the book, but their stories are.
They told me their stories, and I worked them into the book, and that was harder than I thought. It was almost as if I was there myself, walking through those dead streets with them, feeling their terror. I told the stories of my friends in the voices of Jon, Jane, and Sal.
The book is also for those of us who weren’t there that day. I’ve told that story through the eyes of Naomi and her friends, who watch it unfold across the river and on TV, which was my perspective: far away.
It was hard, writing that part of the novel.

What's a typical day like for you? When and where do you write?

This question is about coffee, isn’t it?
I get up pretty late, normally around ten in the morning, make coffee, check my mail, twitter and Facebook (and yes, Pinterest!), then I read the last paragraphs I wrote the day before.
I spend most of the morning, until my family comes home for lunch, at my desk, writing, researching, editing—whatever needs to be done.
My guys come home around 2 pm and we eat. Then I move my laptop to the living room, where my husband will be sitting at the dining table, doing what teachers do after school: marking tests, writing report cards, all the usual stuff.
I write all day long. A sentence here, a sentence there… with my family around me.
In the evening, we watch TV and chat. My favorite shows are Criminal Minds, Law & Order, and, of course, The Closer. I’m also a Trekkie and Doctor Who fan! Oh, and Battlestar Galactica, and Serenity, and Stargate!

Are some experiences in your novel, based on events in your own life?

In Song of the Storm, not so much. Oh wait, yes!
That part where Jon and Sal drive up to Madison Square Garden and nearly run over Maya? THAT happened to me! It was in 2008, and my friend and I had tickets for a Neil Diamond concert. We went early to catch the band before the soundcheck and maybe score an autograph or two. I went to stand in the only shady spot, the roof over the backstage entrance. A silver van came speeding up and nearly hit me. I was just taking a deep breath to shout at the driver when Neil D. Got out of the van. We stood there, he and I, maybe two yards apart, and he looked at me as if he wanted to say, “Well? What do you want?” And all I could do was raise my hand and wave, pretty much like Donna waves at the “fat babies” in Doctor Who: stupidly.
It lasted only two seconds, then security was there and asked me to step back. But it was a nice enough experience to use it in a novel. Only this time it was Jon Stone in the car (who is NOT based on Neil Diamond, btw. If you need to think of a real person, think Bruce Springsteen, please).

What is your WIP? Another novel?

Well, apparently I’m not quite finished with Jon and Naomi even though the trilogy is complete.
I’ve written a new novel, The Rosewood Guitar, which I submitted to my publisher sometime in March, I think. It tells the story of the young Jon Stone(before Naomi)and how he makes his way from New York City to Hollywood and fame. It’s a lot lighter and more fun than Song of the Storm, and set in the early 80s.
After that, I began writing a sequel to the trilogy, set in the Canadian winter about six months after 9/11. It deals with the aftermath and repercussions of that day, and how the Carlsson and Stone families try to return to some sembelence of their old lives but I put it aside after about thirty-five thousand words to write the story of young Naomi before she meets Jon. The title is Waiting for a Song, and it will be a happy, flirty romp. Of course, in the end she’ll get to meet Jon, and run away with him.
So as you can see, there’s one unpublished and two unfinished books floating around, which hopefully will see the light of day sooner or later.

Thanks Angela, for interviewing me today. It’s been fun!
Happy reading everyone!

Thank you for coming and for entertaining us with such great answers Mariam. *tops us Mariam's glass* 'CONGRATULATIONS!'

Tomorrow Mariam will be visiting Wendy van Camp for another interview. You’ll want to check it out!

Unleashing Your Imagination

The definition of writing is that it's a language in a textual medium through the use of a set of signs or symbols.

That sums it up very neatly doesn't it? But that summary is just the stone which hits the water; there are so many more ripples to explore. Writing to me is about having my voice heard, unleashing my imagination, making new friends in my characters, boosting my confidence, a way of keeping me focused, a method of learning through research, increasing my organisational skills by accurately setting time-lines in my story and putting the chapters in the right place to help the story flow and most definitely - escapism.

What made me think of writing this blog post, was a critique I had to do for this month's fiction group at Nottingham Writers' Studio. I'd started by picking out the odd grammar mistake and highlighting beautiful similes, when I became more interested in what the writer was saying than any grammatical errors. Two sentences jolted me. I read them again. 'It occurs to me that writing can be a means of control which is lacking elsewhere in our lives. Writing is sometimes taken up when life itself fails, disappoints or falls short in some way.'

It occurred to me that I took up writing novels in 2007 just as a certain part of my life changed and I felt my control of life was, for the most part, out of my hands. Did my sub-concious lead me to start a novel that Sunday morning as a way of gaining some control back? I've often remarked that I love writing because I'm in charge of my characters' decisions and directions. I can tell them what to say, lead them out of danger and direct them to a happier life. I become lost in their lives and actually feel that my characters are my friends as I disappear into my writing. Is this a sort of therapy my mind led me to as a way of protecting me? Perhaps. Writing is known to help people with traumatic problems, so why shouldn't it help someone who has just lost their way?

Writing about traumatic and emotional events has been found to result in improvements in both physical and psychological well-being. As a way of healing affected people, they're asked to write about past stressful events. Those who do so, generally have significantly better physical and psychological outcomes compared with those who write about neutral topics. Writing is so much more than a textual medium. It can be used successfully as a therapeutic tool for survivors of trauma and in psychiatric settings and is associated with both short-term increases in physiological arousal and long-term decreases in health problems. Not bad for just putting pen to paper!

If you can’t change something about where you are in life then change it by writing. Go to the ocean in your mind and listen to the sound your footsteps make on the pebbles or feel your toes sink into the cool sand. Listen to the waves as they hush up and down the the beach, smell the salt-air and sweet seaweed. Write about the cherry blossom festivals in Japan by going there on the page. Can you smell the fragrant blossoms as they tumble to the floor in the mild breeze? How about indulging in the freedom of skiing. The skis are swishing from side to side as you glide down the hill, looking up at the blue shadows on the mountains and the sun glinting off the peaks. Go for it. Indulge in a little imagination. It's a fantastic tonic!







I read an interview in The Times last month by Rose Tremain, the Chancellor of the University of East Anglia. She said,
'My belief in the imagination is absolute. Part of the joy of writing is going on a journey somewhere outside my own life.'

And it does help to escape from time to time, if only in our imaginations. As the old cliche goes, a change is as good as a rest!

My Highlights of The London Book Fair 2013

With the snow and the frost a mere shiver of a memory away, sunshine and a mild breeze accompanied me to the 42nd London Book Fair this week. I hadn't planned anything in particular as this year I'd decided to wander the stalls, stop for a coffee at the Literary Pen Cafe and linger at the Author Lounge whilst listening to whichever writer happened to have the microphone at the time.

The London Book Fair is the global marketplace for rights negotiation and the sale and distribution of content across print, audio, TV, film and digital channels. It takes place every spring and is great for exploring and learning about the innovations shaping the publishing world of the future. This year Turkey was the Market Focus country following on from China last year.



Author of the day on Tuesday 16th April was Elif Shafak who answered questions and spoke about her novel, Honour. Honour is her ninth novel and is about a Turkish-Kurdish family saga set in London. She writes fiction in both Turkish and English. Critically acclaimed as “one of the most distinctive voices in contemporary literature”, her books have been translated into more than thirty languages. Elif Shafak said, 'Stories make a difference in my country (Turkey) and all around the world. They connect us across borders. By giving voice to the voiceless, making visible the invisible, and challenging intolerance and bigotry, storytellers can mend the bridges that extremist ideologies smash, dividing humanity into islands of "us" versus "them." It is a pleasure and honour to have been chosen one of the Authors of the Day at the London Book Fair this year.'





I was drawn to the kobo stand having seen their new Aura HD ereader advertised. With it's adjustable lighting, 1-2 month battery life and being the highest resolution 6.8 inch screen on the planet, it had me coveting the little rectangular piece of plastic like nothing else at the fair!



For the first time ever at the London Book Fair, 'The Pitch' enabled unpublished authors to meet and network with literary agents and gave them the opportunity to present their book proposal to a literary agent, face-to-face, and get feedback on their ideas and submission material. I haven't heard whether a new author was successful in finding representation at the fair, but wouldn't it be wonderful if they had? It's great to think that someone has seen fit to help unpublished writers and to offer them this opportunity.



The great debate at this year's Fair was 'Amazon: Friend or Foe?' The wide-ranging poles of opinion were that Amazon was being 'unfairly maligned' or were 'destroying the competition.' Eoin Purcell, editor of New Island Books and Irish Publishing News defended Amazon by saying that it was only taking advantage of the natural properties of the internet and digital change. Jennifer Lee, publisher of Daily Lit agreed saying that Amazon were 'the one's who created a critical mass for digital reading.' She said that 'the company had also opened distribution for writers via self-publishing which had unleashed a new stream of creativity.'

Arguing against Amazon was Tim Godfrey, Chief Executive of the UK Booksellers Association. He said that 'Amazon has got so big, they are not competing but destroying the competition. Do we really want an environment in which there are virtually no book shops and far fewer publishers and agents? Because that is really where we're heading.' Robert Levine, author of Free Ride backed Tim Godfrey by saying that, 'If you're a writer, you usually want to sell books for money. Amazon wants to propagate a platform.' He also stressed the importance of controlling one's pricing, calling Amazon a 'hyper-efficient machine for dragging down prices.'

A vote was taken on whether or not Amazon was a positive influence in today's writing world.
For Amazon - 59 votes. Against - 117.



On a more light-hearted note, these were the two books I treated myself to. A gorgeous notebook (yet another!) decorated with buttons and which is far too lovely to stain with ink, and a one hundred year old copy of The Mill On The Floss by George Eliot.



I thought the final word could go to the English poet, writer and broadcaster Sir John Betjeman, who described himself in Who's Who as a "poet and hack". I took a photograph of the wonderful statue of him at St Pancras Station.



A Bay In Anglesey by Sir John Betjeman

The sleepy sound of a tea-time tide
Slaps at the rocks the sun has dried,

Too lazy, almost, to sink and lift
Round low peninsulas pink with thrift.

The water, enlarging shells and sand,
Grows greener emerald out from land

And brown over shadowy shelves below
The waving forests of seaweed show.

Here at my feet in the short cliff grass
Are shells, dried bladderwrack, broken glass,

Pale blue squills and yellow rock roses.
The next low ridge that we climb discloses

One more field for the sheep to graze
While, scarcely seen on this hottest of days,

Far to the eastward, over there,
Snowdon rises in pearl-grey air.

Multiple lark-song, whispering bents,
The thymy, turfy and salty scents

And filling in, brimming in, sparkling and free
The sweet susurration of incoming sea.

Skimming Stones

Surely only a handful of summers have passed
Since I jumped the white chalked squares
On the shiny black slugs of melting tarmac?
Long halcyon days filled with playgrounds and parks
In which hung a shimmering heat-haze
Which levitated above the hot speckled concrete.
Holidays of sipping iced-lemonade, with skin tinged pink
From the rays which danced in the palest of blues.
Surely only a small bouquet of nights have passed,
Each nocturnal hour filled with soft scents of blossom,
Since I read of the Famous Five by the landing's pale glow.

And now my reflection is patterned with lines of middle age.
How did I sink like a painted pebble into these murkey depths?
Did I skim that stone before it sank?
Polish it against my hip before hurling it
Seawards; to bounce and pirouette upon the surface?
And why does my mother's face look back from the mirror?
Is it a trick of the light? Her tired eyes, her lips,
Puckered with a life of coversation.
A private prank played on me by shadows, as
The poised pencil which draws the circle of life,
Rises, tick by slow tock, to meet its starting point.

By Angela Barton

A Room Of One's Own

Virginia Woolf once said that every woman should have a room of one's own to write fiction. I've shared a bedroom with my sister whilst growing up and then with my husband Paul and although I've shared quite happily, I'm very excited about having a room of my own. Paul is building me a writing room in the garden and I'm going to blog about its construction and its positioning onto an over-grown and neglected area at the front of the house. I hope to keep some greenery around the room to soften the edges, although it looks pretty bare at the moment thanks to our freezing Easter weather.



Writing spaces are so individual and it's fascinating to read about where writers feel most comfortable. Every month I buy Writing Magazine and Writers' Forum and love to read about writers' work spaces. Martin Baum has his Bournemouth beach hut, Terry Pratchett has an office with four computer screens in front of him and JK Rowling wrote Harry Potter in a cafe down the road from the university where she worked.

A writing space is definitely a luxury and not essential, after all, writers write; it doesn't matter if we're on a bus, in bed, tucked at one corner of the kitchen table or sitting on a park bench. If the ideas are flowing and a story demands to be written, then we reach for a notebook and we're off. But having said that, it would be wonderful to have my own space? A place to concentrate and escape into the make-believe lives and characters I write about. I could hang up my pin board full of facts and character traits, without cluttering up the kitchen. I could have a book-case to store the myriad of writing text books and vast collection of notebooks I've bought but don't want to deface any of them with a single word! I could also find a home for all these 'writerly' niks-naks I've accumulated and want to find a home for.





Here are the first photographs of my writing room under construction. The shell is up, the roof timbers have begun to be lifted in to place and the first-fix electrics have been put in. Thankfully it's fully insulated so I can write and read in it all year round. I thinks it's the best present ever!







Please keep popping back to check on progress as I up-date my blog.