Why Write: #3 – Inspiration

Okay, so we’ve talked about having that little spark of something other to put into your book, and about knowing when to stop.

Today, we’re going to talk about getting started.  Primarily by way of “inspiration”.

To be honest, if you haven’t got inspiration, you’re not really going to get anywhere.  If you weren’t inspired by something, you wouldn’t be wanting to write a book.  So if you have no inspiration, go and get some.

Inspiration can come from anywhere.  I know people who are inspired by songs, weird animals, pictures, films, books, you name it.  Among my own inspirations, I include conversations, unusual names and a large red sarcophagus sitting in the Vatican Museum that contained the remains of Emperor Constantine’s mother, Helen.  I know.  I’m weird.

There are several important things to do with the inspiration you get.

      1)      Make sure that you don’t write a carbon copy of whatever “inspired” you.  That’s not inspiration.  That’s plagiarism.

      2)      Make sure you can actually go somewhere with it.  As in, sit and have a think, and ask yourself whether you can really turn Aunt Hilda’s hilarious reaction to an unwanted birthday present into a forty-two-book-long epic saga.

      3)      Sit on it and wait.

      4)      Go and get some more inspiration.  From anywhere.

      5)      See if you can combine this inspiration in different ways or merge them or something.

Last time I did 5), I ended up with an epic fantasy five-book series with eight main characters and the most complicated plot I’ve ever thought out.  I was fourteen back then.  And I don’t do simple plots.

Oh, and 6) If you think it’s worth it, don’t let the inspiration fade away.  But know the difference between a good idea to write and something that sounds cool but isn’t.

If you’re stuck for inspiration, just look at the world around you.  What might be an interesting story behind the whorl in that tree?  Was it really that girl’s boyfriend dumping her that made her sing a sad song, or is it something else?  Uncle Gerard insists he has a birthmark, but what if it was a mark for something else?

Whatever you see, as the question WHAT IF.  You might be surprised at the response.

Oh, this was a short one!  Aren’t we lucky?

Until next time….

TBG <3

Top Hat, Old Chap!/Meet the Island: #2 -- Period Dramas

I really can't help myself on this one.  I was going to do something on the Olympics, or possibly the Paralympics, but I wasn't really on my computer for most of those, and when I was, I wasn't in blogging mode.  (I know.  I'm a terrible blogger.)  Instead, why don't we have something on something that's perhaps not quintessentially British, but that, well, is fairly British?  Let's talk about period dramas.

I saw an American actor in the newspaper saying recently that the Brits are the best at putting on period dramas.  Thank you, whoever you are.  We're flattered.  And we try.  There have been some brilliant ones -- Blackadder did a few, though they were also satirical, and then you get other ones like Upstairs, Downstairs which our parents remember from when they were young, and so on.

Okay, now I'm going to stop pretending to talk about the entire range of period dramas, because there's only really one I want to talk about.  Downtown Abbey's first episode for Season Three aired last Sunday night in the UK.  Sorry to all you guys who have to wait.  And it was awesome.  Matthew and Mary are finally getting married!  Of course, there are other problems along the way, and I have a feeling there is possibly something nasty lying in wait for Bates (his new cell mate doesn't get on with him).  And of course, a new disaster has struck Downtown.  I'm not saying what, though.

In short, I absolutely love this series.  So does my entire family.  I've never seen my mum so excited to watch TV.  The actors are fantastic; the plot is brilliant; the setting, costumes, research... everything is just fantastic. Obviously, the show's not for everyone, but there's no denying that it's really good.  The writer, Julian Fellowes, is an OB from my school.  Apparently he found an exchange of letters from around that time period between various relatives of his, and he used them for inspiration.  If you've never watched Downtown Abbey, I highly recommend you do.  It's fantastic.  And I'm just really annoyed that I won't be able to watch episode two on Sunday, because I'm not going to be in the UK.

The Random Corner: #1 -- Totally Awesome Film Music

I was originally going to do a Random Corner post on the Olympics, but because there was a tiny corner of that that would have turned into a rant (don't get me wrong -- I love the Olympics, but the French and the Americans both did things that annoyed me with their channels and I don't want to annoy anybody with that... yet, at any rate), I didn't.  Then I didn't have my computer for most of the Olympics, and then I went on a family holiday without my laptop, then my laptop died, and now I finally have a new one.  And the Olympics are over.  I might do the Paralympics next week.  If I do Random Corner next week.  Or I might do the ten most brilliant generals of all time.  Or something else.  I don't know yet.

Anyway, this one is on totally awesome film composers.

As a writer, and, in particular, a fantasy writer, I listen to a lot of film music.  And when I say "a lot", I mean that most of my iTunes is taken up by film music.  When I'm writing something that's not fantasy-based, I'll usually listen to pop or alternative music.  But I just find film music that much more emotive to write to than anything else (okay, I grant you, some music from the Romantic and Classical era is extremely emotive too). Come on, I mean, what's more inspiring to write a battle scene to than The Battle theme from Hans Zimmer's soundtrack for Gladiator?  Is there anything that puts you in more of a mushy romantic frame of mind than the sweeping string theme for the romance in Raiders of the Lost Ark?

Seriously, soundtrack composers are amazing.  They make or break films with their music.  Not just that, but often, they don't get that much time to write a soundtrack, and then a director will come along when it's all perfected and say, "oh, we've cut five seconds out of this scene here; could you alter the score?"  Apparently John Williams -- though others must be like him -- will just stand there at the conductor's podium for a few seconds, then say something like, "Okay, trumpets: take out bar thirty-five and make bar thirty-four a three-two time bar.  Repeat the long note.  Flutes, double the strings.  Percussion, let's have something more like this *demonstrates*, and oboes, why don't we change that particular bit to *whistles what he wants it to change to*?"  And it's all back on track.  Literally within seconds.

So now I'm going to single out my five favourite film composers, because their stuff is well worth listening to, even if you don't watch the films.

5.  Ron Goodwin.  This guy can't fail to be on the list.  Composer of the soundtracks of many of the best war films, such as 633 Squadron, Battle of Britain and Where Eagles Dare (by far my favourite -- watch the opening part with the fight on the cable car and just listen to that music), alongside other films (e.g. Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines and the Miss Marple movies), I don't think there's anybody that beats this guy for his soundtracks for war films.  Many of those films themselves are fantastic.  Apparently he was also unfailingly nice.  He died aged 77 in 2003.  But he's still the best of the war film generation composers.  We were fortunate enough to play some of his stuff in the school orchestra.  Did I mention how awesome Where Eagles Dare is?  That raises the hairs on the back of your neck when you're playing it.

4.  Howard Shore.  This man is probably most famous for his Lord of the Rings scores.  I know he's scored other things (...like the third Twilight movie...), and I have to admit I haven't really listened to those, but his Lord of the Rings scores are just so fabulous it's hardly true.  I remember watching the first twenty minutes of the first film in silence because the speakers were malfunctioning, and boy, was it so different without the music.  (For those of you who don't know me, I'm an absolute Lord of the Rings boffin and know the soundtrack backwards.)  We used to listen to the CDs of the soundtracks during the school runs.  Even my mother didn't get bored of hearing them on repeat.  He's still going strong, and I want to see him scoring for another fantasy movie, because that would be awesome.

3.  Hans Zimmer, what can I say about Hans Zimmer?  His compositions are often very percussive for strings, which can be hell to play (and yes, I've played some of his stuff), but sounds amazing.  He's most famous for the Pirates of the Caribbean scores and the Gladiator soundtrack, although he also did the soundtrack for The Da Vinci Code, which was so different from the other two I thought my CD was lying to me.  I love, love, love the Gladiator soundtrack.  Particularly the number entitled "The Battle".  We wanted to play it at school, but it was vetoed by our conductor and we did Pirates of the Caribbean instead.  (Life's not all bad.)  Seriously, if any of my books were published and subsequently turned into films, I would most definitely not be complaining if this guy composed the soundtracks (although the likelihood of all this happening is sadly very slim).  He just nails music for adventure and battle scenes.  In my opinion, he'll probably be the one who takes over as the next-generation (if you get what I mean by that) film composer.  And by that, I mean, the main composer for the next generation of films.

2.  Ennio Morricone.  Wow, now, this guy was just a film-composer genius.  Probably the original amazing film composer that everybody knew about, although we're now a generation on.  Even if you think you haven't heard of this guy, you are bound to know some of his music, whether it's the theme from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly or something from one of the Westerns he did.  My favourite track of his is the theme from For a Few Dollars More.  (Go youtube it.)

1.  And last, but most certainly not least, because he's my favourite of the lot, John Williams.  If film music is recognisable for its triplets and perfect fifths, then this guy's music is the epitome of that.  Just listen to the opening of the Star Wars theme, Superman, Raiders March... and those are his most famous.  This guy has been going strong since the sixties(well, technically, 1959) -- and wow, what amazing music.  He's just turned eighty, and apparently he intends to keep going with his amazing music rather than retiring.  (Go JW!  Go JW!)  One of his most recent famous compositions has got to be the soundtrack for the first three Harry Potter movies, but he's done so many films it's hardly true.  He has a good working relationship with Stephen Spielberg and has scored almost every single one of the guy's films (I think there are only two he hasn't done, actually).  But boy, are those scores beautiful.  He would be my dream composer for a film score if my books ever got published and turned into films, but sadly, I don't think that dream would come true.  He recently did the score for War Horse and the new Tintin movie, but my favourite score of his is from The Witches of Eastwick.  The film is little known, but the soundtrack... words cannot describe its awesomeness.  (I just wish we'd had a chance to play more of his stuff at school.)

A Brit Abroad: #3 -- Coming Back Home

You can't really talk about going abroad without referring to coming back home somewhere along the line.  In my experience, there's usually a stage abroad where somebody starts complaining "but it's not like this in [home country]!" and then, when they get back home, it's "but in [visited country], it's so much cooler because they do it like this".

If you're abroad long enough, you get used to the various things of the country you're visiting and they sort of programme themselves into your system.  The usual thing to watch out for is time difference, which can make you seem like an unsociable zombie if you have to go to school or work the day after you get back and you've had to try to factor in a six-hour time difference.  Then there's the food.  And, well, probably the most important one for a British person travelling abroad, the traffic.

In many countries in the world, cars go round on the right side of the road.  In Great Britain, Japan and a few other countries, we like driving on the left.  There's one theory that this is because people on the European continent (and others, although it was also transfer by way of conquest) used to drive on the right because they had teams of horses pulling their carriages around, and since most people were right-handed, it was a lot easier to flick the whip over all the horses from the right side or something like that.  In England, it was more common practice just to have one horse or one pair of horses, so we stuck with the left.  Dunno how this explains the other countries.

Personally, my favourite explanation for this weird quirk in circulation bears no historical sense whatsoever, since Napoleon came long after traffic was established.  Napoleon, being left-handed and of a rather greedy nature when it came to acquiring land, used to ride down the right side of the road so that he could attack people riding in the other direction.  I'm not totally sure how this works since you'd think they'd clash head to head rather than a right-handed person happily switching to his left hand in order to get thrashed (or maybe that's how Napoleon's conquests got so far -- who knows?).  Anyway, of course, the French army and then the conquered peoples began to take after the grand empereur and trot along the right side of the road (the right hand side, not the right side).  This then spread to all the countries involved in European empires and whatnot.  And, of course, the reason the British remain happily on the left side of the road -- or the right side, if you're British, patriotic and biased -- is because Napoleon never conquered us and we felt like being British and not Napoleonic-European and refused to switch.

Of course, this causes probablems for people swapping sides of the Channel.  If you take your car with you and the driver isn't paying attention, your journey might well dissolve into screams of "Dad!  You're on the wrong side of the road!"  If you're just wandering around on foot, think twice before crossing the road.  If you're in Paris, just don't cross the road anyway:  Find a subway if you value your life.  I once nearly got run over by motorbikes jumping the lights from both directions, and I'm not the only one.  (Paris, I love you really.)

Then live abroad for a year and come back to England.  Yes, it's an absolute relief to be home, but I've found it poses two problems:

1) I still expect to speak in French to people in shops and restaurants.  (So embarrassing....)

2) I think my friends have saved my life around twenty times in the space of a couple of days by dragging me off a road because I looked the wrong way and then stepped off the pavement into oncoming traffic.  I've been told I'm not allowed out on my own until I'm cured.  *escapes to Scotland*

The upside of being home is that THIS COUNTRY SELLS FRUIT PASTILLES AND HULA HOOPS.  CONTINENTAL EUROPE, WHY DON'T YOU HAVE THESE THINGS?  Somebody would make a killing out of importing them, I'm sure.

TBG <3

Minor Update

Yeah... I've been AWOL for a while.  Sorry!  Life got busy this summer and I actually spent over a month without internet, so....  My laptop is also on its last legs.  I'm waiting for a new one to arrive, but in the meantime, I don't dare use this one too much.  It has a tendency to freeze the screen, which is extremely frustrating when trying to type something.

That apart, I'm hoping that I'll be blogging on a fairly regular basis throughout September.  Alongside preparing for university, sorting out finances for university, reviewing everything I've done over the past eight years in Latin and Greek, rewriting a book for a competition and getting a TEFL qualification.  (It might all be on my to-do list, but the likelihood of getting all that done is... not great.)  The upside is that I'll at least be home for that, and I'm unlikely to be thinking in French.

I'm currently in Scotland.  The weather is appalling, which is only to be expected, but everybody here is extremely friendly and Hadrian's Wall and a load of old Roman forts aren't all that far off, so there's lots of interesting stuff around.

And just because I'm nice like this and have an obsession with unusual words (and etymology), here's something to add to your vocabulary:

nomophobia

Google chrome is telling me it doesn't recognise this word, which really doesn't surprise me.  If you don't recognise it either, nomophobia is apparently the word for a fear of being separated from your mobile phone (or cell phone, as I believe you Americans say).  "No" -- self explanatory; "mo" -- for "mobile"; "phobia" -- from the Greek word for fear.

I'll try and have something up for next week.  And I'll start working on the grammar part of the blog soon.  It's just rather difficult to do without it turning into a text-book style thing that only academics or grammar Nazis would find interesting to read.

Toodle pip!

(No, we don't normally say that.)

A Brit Abroad: #2 -- How Safe is Brussels?

This is something I often wonder.  It's something I asked plenty of people before I came and it's something I get asked quite a lot by people who've never come here.  In fact, I recently asked it of a friend of mine.  He said that Brussels ranks within the top ten safest capital cities in the world.

Then again, he's Belgian and doesn't actually live in Brussels, so I think he's very biased and quite possibly wrong.  I'd be lying if I said Brussels was totally safe.  No capital city is.  I mean, during my first few weeks, I used to get on the bus and find myself facing a poster of a missing child.  That said, I don't usually feel my life is in danger when I'm trying to cross the road and I so far haven't been mugged.

On the other hand, I have been stalked a few times -- five at the last count -- and I've been cornered on or near the metro four times by people 'asking for my phone number'.  When I told another friend of mine, this time one who actually lives in Brussels, she looked at me like an alien and demanded to know what part of Brussels I'd gone to to get myself stalked.

If you're a female under the age of thirty and are walking alone, even if you're wearing high-waisted trousers and a hand-knitted sweatshirt, there are probably going to be some strange guys who will honk their horns at you as they drive past.  I have felt threatened in Brussels, but it's only been on those nine stalking/cornering occasions.  By far the worst of these was on a Sunday morning when I was jetlagged after a flight back from the Middle East and I'd forgotten to charge my phone before coming out.  I should probably say that Brussels is completely dead on Sundays.  All the shops are closed and there's usually not a cat in sight.  My phone was as dead as a dodo and I was on the metro with maybe two other people.  This guy came on and sat down opposite me, trapping my way out because he had really long legs, and initially started asking me quite innocent questions, like "can you tell me where the Gare du Midi is?" and "to get to here, what's the best route", so I figured he was a tourist.  Unfortunately, he'd been living in Brussels for a long time (or so he told me), and he recognised a slight English twinge in my French accent, so he started speaking to me in English.

Even though everybody understands English (or a little bit, anyway), nobody is ever going to butt in unless you're obviously being harassed in French or Flemish.  Even then, it's not common, as people tend to mind their own business on the metro.  He started hassling me, saying we could meet up, asking for my phone number, insisting for it again even when I said no, saying he'd give me his, asking if we could meet up for dinner at his place and if I fancied spending a night out, etc., etc.  I couldn't get off the train in case he followed me; everybody else in the carriage s'en fichaient; I couldn't ring anybody... and the last thing I wanted to do was stay on the train.  Trust me, if it hadn't been a Sunday, I would have tried to get out like a half-starved dog after meat.  Crowds, shops -- anywhere to lose myself in would have been fine... except it was a Sunday, so there was none of that.

The other occasions were marginally better.  I've discovered that it's best to pretend I'm Swedish and that I don't understand French or English whenever I get accosted like that now.  As soon as they realise they can't communicate with you, they tend to leave you alone.  And then you run.  You run far away as fast as you can.

So, yeah, Brussels isn't totally safe.  However, I feel a lot safer here than I do in, say, Paris or London.  Brussels is a lot safer than both of them.  To be honest, it's unlikely anything bad will happen to you in Brussels, although there are some dodgy areas that are worth avoiding.  As in, they're the kind of areas you don't go in after dark.  Definitely not without considerable powers of self-defence.  And I have to go through four of them every single time I want to go into the town centre, or return home.  There are six or seven really bad ones (four of which I traverse every day): Bockstael, Delacroix, Clemenceau, Gare du Midi, Gare Centrale, Mollenbeek... and Scaerbeek, which you don't want to go into in any time of day.  I think it's got a nickname to do with pick-pocketing and thieves.  So Scaerbeek is to be avoided.  The two stations might be a little hard to avoid sometimes.

When you take into account that I've lived here nearly a year, it's not surprising I've had one or two bad experiences.  If you're coming to live in Brussels, you can probably expect to have one or two too.  If you're coming for a visit, you don't need to worry at all.

TBG <3

Why Write? #2 -- The Most Important Thing to Know BEFORE You Start

Last time, I talked about the Spark of Something Other.  I just got back from the Queen Elisabeth music competition.  Admittedly, most of you won't know what it is even though it's famous worldwide and well over half of this year's competitors weren't even European.  This year, it was a competition for violinists, and dear lord were they astonishing.  I saw two of finalists performing and discussed a lot with the two people sitting next to me about the way that the pieces would be judged.  Something we all concluded was that, no matter how technically good the violinists were, what made the real difference to the pieces they played and the standard of their music was the Spark of Something Other -- the fact that they put their hearts and souls into what they were playing, and some visibly more so than others.  Out of the two competitors tonight, I know which one is more likely to walk away with the victor's crown because he was obviously throwing himself so completely into the music.  Anyway.  Enough of that.

This time, I'm bringing up something that, to be honest, I think is almost more essential to an author than imagination.  And believe me, without imagination, you'll get nowhere as an author.  Originally, I was going to leave this post until last, but I was told by a friend I ought to do it now (and that was two weeks ago).  Quite apart from anything else, I don't actually know how long this series of posts will continue, so I'm taking her up on her advice.

Looking around at a number of books (and films, for that matter) that we see/read nowadays, there are plenty that we at least think: "Oh, no.  Not another one in that series.  The first one/few were bearable, but seriously...?"  Or we scream up at the skies: "PLEASE!  NO!  NOT ANOTHER ONE!  WHY ARE THEY PERSECUTING US?!"  I see a lot of comments like "the Alex Rider series should have stopped after Scorpia", or "the Twilight series would have been bearable if SMeyer had stopped after the first book" (I disagree: the first one was bad enough), or "The Hunger Games was good, but the others were such a let-down".  There are people (I hold my hands up as one of them) who would have preferred it if the Mortal Instruments series had stayed as a trilogy.  It would have had so much more of an impact.  There are others who think that Pirates of the Caribbean should have stayed as one film.

Okay, my point: you need to know when to stop.  I can't even begin to stress how important this is.  Knowing when to stop is what will give you the maximum impact in a series, in a party, in a song, in social tact, in anything.  I was once told that the best parties are the ones that are cut off in full swing.  Why?  Because that's when everybody's enjoying themselves, so they go home with good memories.  How many of you have stayed right until the end of the party when most people have left and everybody who's drunk is throwing up everywhere?  It taints the good memories.  In fact, every party I've been to where I've stayed until an ending like that, I've always wished I'd left at one in the morning rather than waiting until three.  And all my friends say the same.  Same thing with a book.  There's no point spinning the story out just to get more money or what have you.  Maximum impact.  Who here's read Bakuman (it's a Japanese manga, for those of you who don't know)?  Ashirogi Muto, the mangaka pair that the story focusses on, come into conflict with the editorial department of the magazine they draw/write manga for, because their series Reversi becomes extremely popular and the editorial department want the story to be spun out and to continue for as long as possible.  However, the mangakas stick to their guns and insist on finishing it their own way in their own time at their own speed for the maximum impact.  They want to be the flagship for the magazine Jump, not by having something mediocre that continues for years and is popular because it's ongoing, but by having something so powerful that it's impossible to forget.  If you want an analogy, it's like the difference between throwing yourself at a door to smash it open and attempting to smash it open by leaning on it.  Bakuman itself is relatively short as a popular series go, but the manga series that made the mangakas of Bakuman famous, and by far the best manga I've ever read, is Death Note.

Now, I'm not saying stories can only have impact and be powerful if they're short, because that's not necessarily true.  I love a long book and I'm even happier if it's a series, but only if it's something of quality. Really.  Quality does not equal quantity.  If it did, we would have two different words and they wouldn't have two different meanings.

Knowing when to stop is what separates you from being an amateur writer and being somebody who packs the biggest punch.  This doesn't just apply finishing a book or series at the right time: it applies to finishing a scene at the right time.  Admittedly, it's less of a problem if the scene doesn't stop in the right place compared to if the book/series doesn't stop when it should, although being unable to control your scenes like that will probably lose you readers.  If you find yourself saying things like "my characters wanted the story to continue!" or "I realised that there was so much more of the story to tell..." -- wait.  Rewind.  "My characters wanted the story to continue!"  Er... who's capable of governing what you do in your life -- you or some fictional characters?  Get a grip and control them.  "I realised that there was so much more of the story to tell" -- er, sorry.  No, you didn't, and you probably need help.  Even a Pantser/Winger/Somebody-who-totally-wings-their-story-and-doesn't-plan-it of the highest order, and I'm one of these, can sense when the right place to end their story is.  And they'll know BEFORE THEY GET THERE.  If you're a Planner, there is absolutely no excuse.  You planned the story out.  Perhaps things didn't go entirely as planned, so you had to tweak the ending a bit, but that doesn't mean you suddenly decided you didn't even TELL half the story in the first place.  If you think you MIGHT want to continue your book/series, you have to leave enough loose ends to open up a plausible way to continue them.  And example of where this works, but where it was obviously back-written, is the Percy Jackson series after they start to incorporate the Roman half-bloods.  An example of where this works less well is The Hunger Games.  Now, I know there are major fans of the trilogy/first book/whatever, but I've spoken to a lot of people about these books, both in English and in French, and almost every single person has told me that it would have been so much better if the first book remained a standalone.  Actually, I've been told to read the first book but to avoid the others, especially the third, at all costs.

The other thing is that so few people seem to actually go back to their first book when they decide that their characters want to continue their story and actually check through the first book for a) a plausible link to the second that will maintain the power of the first book in the following ones and b) for details to make sure that there are no logical errors in the rest of the books (I can happily point you in the direction of Dana's excellent tumblr blog "Reasoning with Vampires", where you can see this in demonstration).  This doesn't happen with people who plan or know where to end their stories.

Also, as an author, particularly as a professional author, any writer ought to be able to keep themselves distanced from their piece of work.  If you're a writer, you can't edit properly until you've distanced yourself from your work (usually by leaving it alone for a few weeks before attacking it with a red pen).  If you're becoming emotionally attached to your characters to the point where you can't bear stopping to write about them and you feel the need to describe every day of their lives... well, let's just say that people are going to worry about you.  You need to be tough and clinical.  Don't let the characters rule what goes on in the book all the time.  And above all, don't let them ruin your lives.  If you feel yourself getting too attached to them, do something to stop that attachment.  Stick to your guns if you decide that the book's going to be a standalone, or if you build up drama for a huge fight, don't chicken out of the fight just because you don't want to even injure your characters.

I, personally, am terribly sadistic towards my characters.  As soon as I sense one getting more love than the others, or I feel myself getting attached, chances are said adored character will be killed off.  Now, I'm not saying everybody should do this, because quite apart from anything else it'll annoy the fans, but knowing when to stop and when you've gone too far is vitally important.  Continuing a series because you "realised" you "hadn't yet finished the story" or because "the characters wanted to keep going" is NOT an excuse.  It looks extremely unprofessional, batty and... to be honest, incredibly strange.  As an author, knowing your own story, being able to control the limits of your own story, and being able to control the characters you create is fundamentally important to writing a book or series for the maximum impact.

This post is getting long.  Until next time!

TBG <3

Why Write? #1 -- That Spark of Something Other

We had a very interesting discussion in my French class today about modern art.  You know the sort of thing: what classifies as art? how do we define art? etc.  And, of course, the most controversial question of all: can n’importe qui (just any old one) be an artist?

Actually, the question turned out to be not at all controversial to my class, because, despite being from all over the world, from twenty different cultures and from a range of age spans, we were all of the same opinion. Anybody can draw, learn how to paint, study to be an artist, copy techniques and whatnot… but those who stick in that rut can never become true artists.  As my French teacher put it, “tout est déjà fait”.  Since everything’s already done, you can only copy.  So what differentiates you between a copy-cat and an artist?

Well, it’s the Spark of Something Other.  To be honest, I don’t think anybody can really define it.  It was one of the rare occasions in class where even the teacher what struggling to express himself.  He’s normally quite a voluble guy who would put any talkative female to shame.  (I’m a talkative female.  He talks way more than I do.)  In the end, he conclusion he came to (in French) was that, for something to become a piece of true art, and therefore render its creator a true artist, it has to have “un proper regard unique et personel qu’on transmet” to the person observing the work.  That translates roughly as the artist has to show something in their own unique light/perspective (the artist’s, not the piece) and transmit their perspective of it to the beholder.  You could say that they have to put their heart/soul into it in such a way that it shines through.

Why am I rabbitting on about this? you might wonder.  Because I’m about to say something you might find controversial, in exactly the way that my French class didn’t.

You’ve probably heard it said that everybody’s got a story in them.  Fair enough.  You may also have heard it said that everybody can write a book.

Er, no.  Sorry.  Those who say that have obviously never tried.  Or they’re being ridiculously blasé about it, because it’s not true.  That’s exactly the same as saying “everybody can be good at maths”, or “everybody can be a musician” or “everybody can be an artist”.  I don’t particularly like having to repeat myself, but sometimes, as a teacher, one has to (yes, I teach).  As I was saying about an artist, anybody can study techniques of writing to death.  You can analyse how somebody does well and copy it to death as well.  You can work out what somebody’s doing wrong and avoid it to death too.  But if you don’t put that Spark of Something Other into it, the work will always be lacking something.

I’ve seen lots of writing blogs on the internet and lots of “how to write a book!” manuals, online and offline, but, to be honest, any help that that gives you can only boost you two-thirds of the way there.  That’s why I’m only dedicating two weekdays to writing advice rather than three (or the entire blog).  People can give you all the advice in the world, but in the end, to make your book a real work of art that people can’t fail to read, you have to have that Spark of Something Other in there, and nobody can teach you how to do that.  You need to be able to put it in yourself.  You can have the best plot in the world, or the most logical characters in the world, or even perfect grammar, but if the Spark of Something Other isn’t there, people just won’t find the book as interesting as they should.

Remember, everything’s been done before.  The best plot’s already been taken.  The most amazing characters are already out there.  There are some (sadly, far too few) published books with perfect or near-perfect grammar.  That said and done, you have to have a way to compare to them and make the readers want to read YOUR book.  And the way to live up to that is your Spark.  Find it, ignite it, and pour it into your story.  I can only give you boost you two-thirds of the way there.

The first booster, one that (sadly) a fair number of authors these days seem to overlook, is grammar and syntax.  I’m sorry, but these are not nearly as subjective as people pretend they are.  If your grammar isn’t decent, the reader will feel insulted (if they know their grammar); it looks extremely unprofessional and is just plain lazy.  Not to mention that blogs like ReasoningWithVampires will happily rip your book to pieces.  But more importantly, you’ll have a bad influence on the reading generation with regards to your audience’s own grammar.  People tend to take stuff in a book as “the way to use grammar” as it’s a) supposedly by professionals, b) writers ought to know their trade of word-craft inside out and therefore be grammar-perfect and c) it’s supposedly been proofread by professional editors, who (if anything) ought to know grammar better than the authors.  People like me, however, will sit with your book in one hand and a red pen in the other and mark it up like a teacher correcting a French essay.  Don’t give people a reason to hate your book before they’ve finished page one.  Bad grammar can mean the difference between your book being read in its entirety and being thrown out of the window by a frustrated teenager.  Just think of grammar and syntax being like the fundamental rules of colour mixing when painting: red plus blue makes purple, never blue, and orange comes from red and yellow, etc.

The second booster, and this one is more subjective (like the techniques of applying oil paint to a canvas, or crosshatching for shading instead of smudging something – i.e. there usually more than one way of doing well, and it’ll depend on the audience as much to you as to whether or not it works), is style/technique/execution and plot.  This is where you have to let your individualism really flare.  Anyone can write.  It’s easy.  You see it all over the place – history essays, computing instruction manuals, cook books… .  But writing compellingly is very difficult.

And your Spark of Something Other on top of your style/technique/execution/plot/grammar/syntax is what will really count towards how compelling your writing is.

TBG <3

A Brit Abroad: #1 -- English as the International Language

There is one undeniable huge advantage about English being the international language: everybody understands it.  There's also a big disadvantage.  Everybody understands it.

Perhaps I should elaborate.  For anglophones, or English-speakers, it's a wonderful thing because we can go abroad anywhere and count on most people being able to speak our language, sometimes even fluently.  In some ways, it's nice for non-anglophones, as well, because they only have to learn one foreign language and they can travel pretty much anywhere.  Certainly, if you meet anybody in the air force or who flies at all, their English will often be impeccable -- I remember being very amused going up in a helicopter on one occasion and listening to the air traffic reports (all in English, obviously) and overhearing an American pilot arguing with somebody in air traffic control because his plane wasn't ready to take off.  No matter where you go, you're bound to see English somewhere.  In Brussels, for example, a fair amount of advertising is done in English.  In the metro, they give all the announcements in French, Flemish and English (for some reason, they leave out German, which is the third official language of this country).

However, there are some downsides to being a native English speaker abroad.  One is that -- especially in Paris, for some reason -- you're always going to meet people who are like, "oh, it's an American" (even if you're English or Australian, which kind of grates).  And they then go on to add something like "you never bothered to learn our language" (or they imply it) and you get given the cold shoulder.  Or you hear them complaining that English-speakers never bother to learn their language, and then you try to speak to them and they reply in English and don't even give you a chance to try your hand at their language.  And then you hear them complaining again as you walk away.  And the other thing: if you're an English-speaker abroad, you can NEVER complain about anything in the privacy of your language the way that you could if you were, say, somebody from the Basque country visiting China.  EVERYBODY UNDERSTANDS.  If you want to complain about something quietly to your friends, you have to be telepathic.  Or you have to wait until you get back home.  Otherwise, the consequences can be rather embarrassing.  Not that I'm trying to encourage people to complain, of course, but you get what I mean... I hope.

While going abroad as a tourist and speaking English is all very well, if you're going to live in a country for any length of time, you can't just expect to rely on English.  You have to know at least one of the official languages of the country (where there are more than one).  Even in Belgium, there are some people who expect you to know two of the official languages, but where there are problems, they can... usually... be resolved in English... but still, it's best not to rely on it.

The only exception to learning a native language seems to be if you've come over as an Erasmus student to one of the universities.  Chances are you'll fall in with numerous people from all corners of the world and the only way you can communicate is in English.  When that happens, a form of pidjin English is likely to occur (unless there's a native anglophone in the group).  Everybody in the group understands each other, but most anglophones (while they also understand) will sit there raising their eyebrows or scratching their heads at some of the expressions.  (Seriously, it's really interesting -- you can see the development of language at work.)

Sometimes, though, I wonder if it was worth the bother of trying to become fluent in French.  Admittedly, I'm here to teach English, but everywhere I go, I have to hide the fact that I'm from the UK or I'm not allowed to speak anything other than English.  It can get a little aggravating at times.  I don't mind it if it's to help out lost tourists or what have you, because their English is often better than their French (and I don't really speak Flemish).  But going out with friends, going to parties... as soon as I get introduced as "my English friend--", bang go my chances for speaking in French for the evening.  If you live abroad, you'll find the same thing.  Everybody wants to practise their English.  It's very nice of them, but then... well, you wonder why they complain that anglophones never learn their languages.  If they aren't going to let us speak their language, of course there's going to be a part of us that says "why should we learn it?"  Seriously, the last few times I've been out in town, I've had to pretend I'm Swedish and speak no English at all so that I can speak in French. And so that I can escape from creepy perverts on the metro, but that's a story for another time.  Even in my French class, I try not to say where I come from.  The last time I did, I wasn't able to speak French during class breaks or walking to the metro.  I just got bombarded with English and comments on my accent.

On other occasions, looking around at the English-speaking tourists and being mortified at the way that some of them just expect the world to be fluent in English, I sometimes wish that the international language was Esperanto.  I'm not joking.  That way, I'd be fluent in three languages and nobody could complain that somebody "hasn't made the effort" to learn their language.  I wouldn't be prevented from speaking other languages when I want to, and I also wouldn't get weird looks from people for speaking a foreign language. Really, it's got to the point where the American stereotype has been transferred to the British.  I'm not happy about it.  Personally, I like being able to speak in other languages, even if it's only a few words.  For one thing, it's polite.  For another, non-anglophones love it.

And then again, I count myself lucky that my first language is one that's spoken all over the world.  It makes things like watching films and reading books very easy.  You can find "original versions" in most places, but they're also translated all over the place, so it's easy to start picking up a language if you pick up a book or a film you know and decide to watch it in, say, Spanish.  It's even in music.  A lot of countries listen to English songs.  People may not understand them, but they know them and sing along to them in gusto.  One of the only foreign songs that every English-speaking person knows is Alors, on danse, which, if I remember correctly, was sung by a Belgian and doesn't contain a single English word.  So, yeah, English is an incredibly useful language -- because it's the international language.  If you speak English, you'll never really be lost.  Except for when you go out into the countryside.  English tends to hang around in the cities.  As soon as things start looking green, signs probably stop showing English.

Top Hat, Old Chap!/Meet the Island: #1 -- Cheese Rolling

Well, welcome to the first proper edition of Top Hat, Old Chap!/Meet the Island! introducing England.  Or Great Britain.  Or the United Kingdom.  Contrary to popular belief, all three are actually different, but I'll explain that another time.  (Also popular to contrary belief, the Union Jack is not the national flag of the United Kingdom as the jack is a flag only flown from a specific part of a ship.  And a flagpole doesn't usually qualify as that particular part of the ship.  Anyway.  I might do a proper post on that another time.)

I thought I'd kick things off with an introduction to sports.  This little island is fairly well known for sports -- we have world-famous football teams (please note that, being British, I do not use the term "soccer", and also that there are at least three types of football: American football, 'soccer' football and Rugby football) like Chelsea and Manchester United (and Liverpool, apparently), invented Rugby (at a place called Rugby), and hold a cricket test series called "the Ashes" biannually.  At least, I think it's held in Britain biannually.  I don't really follow it that much.

Those are... well, the famous sports.  I thought it'd be nicer to introduce you to one that is rather less well known than rugby, but apparently just as fun and definitely more dangerous, particularly for the spectators.  This is, of course, the fantastic and slightly bizarre sport of cheese rolling.

I know, I know.  You're probably giving the computer/iPod a bemused expression and wondering what on earth I could be talking about.  "Cheese rolling?"  "Is that some kind of weird metaphorical name?"  "Or is it as dull as it sounds?"  "Why is something with such a lame name called a sport?"

Actually, it came up in my French class recently because a cheese-rolling incident got into the French newspapers a few years back, and it was one of the clippings that happened to get into the text book that we're studying.  It took several long minutes for my classmates to get their heads around the sheer bizarre Britishness of this sport.

Basically, there's this hill in Gloucestershire called Cooper's Hill where the event takes place every year.  Recently, it's not really been official, but never mind.

A native British cheese of a cylindrical form, the Double Gloucester, which comes from the local area, is launched down Cooper's hill and, a second later, the participants give chase.  The aim of the game, as anybody who's played it on Neopets will know, is to catch the cheese before it reaches the bottom... but since it can end up rolling at seventy miles per hour sometimes, it's a little easier said than done, so often it's just the first person to cross the finishing line at the bottom who wins the cheese.

Yeah, you heard right.  The first prize is the cheese that just went charging down the hill.  But don't worry -- it's quite a big cheese.  Apparently the event can be traced back as a tradition of at least two hundred years, although the official Cheese Rolling website of the Cooper Hill event does mention that it might initially have come from a pagan ritual celebrating something or other to do with the turn of the seasons.  I can't remember exactly what.  Interesting fact: due to rationing during the Second World War, a full cheese couldn't be used for the race, so a wooden cylinder with a hollow middle containing a lump of cheese was pressed into service.  I can only imagine how much more severe the injuries would have been if the spectators were hit by that.  Cheese is one thing, but wood?  Ouch.

Injuries are common, particularly in the nature of bad sprains and broken bones.  In fact, from what I can make out, injuries tend to be just as common among spectators as among the participants.  While the event was still official, the St John's Ambulance used to be there to pick up anybody needing to be taken to hospital (which as a regular occurrence), but I don't think that's happened for the past couple of years.  But for the past couple of years, there don't seem to have been many injuries.  Considering that the St John's Ambulance reported that eighteen injuries in 2009 was "low", 2010 and 2011 have practically been miracles.  Oh, and ten of those eighteen injured people were spectators.  I suppose that's just what happens to you when you get hit by a rampaging Gloucester.

The article I was reading about in my French text book was even funnier, though, in a sort of morbid way.  Considering the steep, concave nature of Cooper's Hill and the speeds of the cheese you're chasing after, it's kind of normal that somebody might twist an ankle or even end up somersaulting down the hill.  Anyway, the year that this particular article was written, the cheese managed to start off some miniature landslides/some of the stones/rocks decided to accompany it down (note: this may not have been at Cooper's Hill, because that place seems to be predominantly made up of grass and mud).  Three of the participants were injured badly enough to be hospitalised, but a full thirteen of the spectators were taken out by the cheese and hospitalised too.  Can you imagine that?  Seriously, that's impressive on the part of the cheese.  Thirteen.  I feel sorry for those poor people, though.  I mean, I've been chased by a sheep, but getting attacked by a cheese?  And how do you explain that to your classmates or work colleagues when they ask about the broken arm?  Yeah, a cheese ran me over.

I'm pretty sure that cheese-rolling takes place in other parts of Britain, but probably not on such a large scale as at Cooper's Hill, which attracts attention from around the world.  I don't think it's something I'll ever get to try as my ankle's in pretty bad condition, but I might risk watching it someday.  Personally, I think it's the mother of all bizarre and crazy sports.  Anybody got any competitors to that opinion?

TBG <3

A Brit Abroad: Introduction

Hola!  A Brit Abroad will be taking up the Friday posts.

Actually, you could say one of the main reasons for me starting this blog was because of this topic.  That combined with wanting somewhere to share writing advice.

For those of you who don't know, I currently live abroad on my own (and will do until August).  Specifically, I live in a little country called Belgium, which I'm sure that many of you won't have heard of unless you have a fascination for Belgian chocolate, because I know there are some Americans who claim that they invented the waffle and for some reason French fries got named after the French.  (Yes, the Belgians invented the waffle and French fries.  Sorry, guys.  On the other hand, the chocolate, waffles and fries here are all fantastic.  I've put on five kilos since I arrived, and I'm sure some of that can be blamed on the delicious food.)

To be even more specific, I actually live in the capital of this little country.  I've been told that it's amongst the top ten safest capital cities in the world, but seeing as it was a Belgian who told me this and I often have difficulty telling whether or not he's being totally serious (or understanding him, for that matter), I'm not totally sure if that's true.  I've never bothered to check if he's right.  And no, narrowing it down to this particular city isn't going to help you find me.

As it's quite rare to find somebody as young as me living abroad on her own, I constantly get asked "what are you doing here?" "How long are you staying here?" "Why did you choose to come?" "What's it like?" and questions of that sort.  And since I'm having a (mostly) lovely time, I thought it might be nice to share some of my experiences of being abroad.

WARNING: This may contain posts that are unrelated to Belgium but still related to being abroad.  I take no responsibility for any trauma that may be invoked by not mentioning Belgian chocolate at least twice every post.
And while we're talking about food, I'm not actually sure if Brussels is related to the Brussel sprout, but I do know that all the streets leading out of the Grande Place were named after foods.

TBG

Why Write? Introduction

Yes... this is the Thursday section of the blog.


Did I mention anywhere that I'm an aspiring writer?  I also have a reputation as a "Grammar Hitler" (basically, the most ruthless possible type of grammar Nazi), but don't let that frighten you: after all, the name "Hitler" apparently means "somebody who lives in a hut".  That said, I don't actually live in a hut; I live in a--


But a true ninja never reveals their home location.


Now, obviously, what I say in this section of the posts (and pretty much everywhere else on the blog -- except perhaps when it comes to the grammar guide) is subjective and basically my opinion on things.  Please, whatever you do, don't take it as gospel truth, but feel free to take whatever you need as guidelines if you think it'll help you write.  Personally, I've always found that carrying out tough criticism on other people's work has improved mine far more than any advice offered to me does, but I've always learnt in weird ways and I don't think that'll ever change.


Nevertheless, critiquing other works, particularly those of your peers and of the market you're trying to break into, will help you more than you could ever imagine with your own writing.  And by this, I mean critiquing properly.  Not commenting.  I remember having a rant on inkpop about making the distinction between the two.  To be honest, considering that everybody on the website wanted to be an author, I was actually astonished at the number of people who failed to make the distinction between two words with obviously different roots.  On one occasion, I remember seeing somebody write that "one-line critiques" were some of the most useful criticism they'd ever received.


Hold on a second.  One-line critiques?  The very definition of "critique" (which is essentially a detailed analysis, or breaking down, of something) makes it impossible for anything as short as one line to bear the name of a critique, unless the one line is a sentence of several hundred words, in which case I would be both flabbergasted and in awe at the mutilation of grammar required to achieve something so spectacular.  Comments, on the other hand, can be very short.  Most often, they are simple observations, like "the sky is blue".


I digress.  Basically, my point is that, if you have to analyse something, the process of breaking it down and studying why it does or doesn't work is more likely to imprint on your mind the reasons as to why the way something's written is good or bad because you've figured out why it's good or bad.  (Note: this is harder for to do for good than for bad.)  Because you know the explanations for why something does or doesn't work, you're more likely to be able to avoid the things that don't work and aim for the things that do work when you're writing yourself.  Therefore, the more criticism you can do, the better your writing will get.  It's like playing the piano.


Ooh, analogy time!  By the way, I can do this quite a lot.  Considering that I can liken Edward Cullen to a zombie with relative ease, it's hardly surprising that I start using analogies at a moment's notice.  I'm also liable to start analysing whatever I can if I'm left to myself for longer than about three minutes.  And now I'm digressing totally from the analogy.  Where was I?  Oh yes, the piano.


Basically, when you play the piano, there are various different ways of practising to improve.  By far the most ineffective is to sit there with the same old piece day after day and bash through it from beginning to end.  After a while, you'll get bored of the piece, and if you're exceptionally unlucky, you'll go into over-kill on the piece and you will start to play it less and less well rather than better and better.  (I'm a victim of this.  I know what I'm talking about.)  This is like sitting there with a book and churning out draft after draft without looking through and seeing what might need changing and correcting.  Or like churning out book after book without ever going and editing a single one.  It might encourage you to write a lot, but it'll often be the slowest way to improve your writing.


Then there's looking through the piano piece to see what you got wrong, possibly comparing it to the way it's played by people who got it right (or by world-class pianists), getting your teacher to take you over the hard parts, and focussing on the parts you find difficult until they come out right and you can play the piece really well.  This is like editing your book effectively.  You look at the bits that are troublesome and don't work, and then you try to find a way to fix them.  Then you go over the whole book again to check that everything has been ironed out.


And then there are the Hanon Studies.


HOLD YOUR HORSES!


I'm not saying that thundering out the Hanon Studies for the rest of your life will automatically make you a good pianist.  But if you do them properly and really work at them, they will strengthen your fingers tremendously.  (They're not the only way to do it, but the Hanon Studies are the ones I was cursed with.)  With stronger fingers, it's easier to grasp difficult techniques and fingerings and to make all the notes sound when you want them to sound.  This in turn means that you have the techniques you need to play the piece well when you've sorted out how the melody goes, etc.


Criticism is to writing what the Hanon Studies are to playing the piano.  Criticism hones your techniques because of the way you make yourself analyse what's going on, which allows you to decide what will and won't work in your book and employ or avoid those things respectively, which will mean that the quality of your writing is better.


Not doing those studies properly means that you just won't improve as quickly.  Commenting on work rather than critiquing it (if you belong to a writing website) is exactly the same.


I hope that made sense. It did in my head.  I'm not sure I expressed it very well, though.


Anyway, after that lengthy detour, here we are back at the point of this set of posts.  Like I said, these will only really be guidelines as to what might constitute a good novel.  As far as I'm concerned, there are three main factors as to what makes a good book: grammar and syntax (yes, I'm obsessed), style/technique/execution, and plot.  I can't really give any advice on a plot as that would just be unoriginal and you'd probably end up writing a book that I want to write as I'd foist all my ideas onto you, but never mind.  If you have problems with a plot hole, I'm more than willing to help (just leave me a message in the comments), but really, I can't give you a plot to write.  However, I can help with grammar.  And to an extent, I can also give a few prods for style/technique/execution, although ultimately the style that you write in ought to be your own.  But don't let those three being lumped together fool you: they're actually different things.  Go and look them up in a dictionary.


Grammar will be dealt with on Monday's posts in a blog version of a book I was initially asked to do on Inkpop by various people with questions about grammar points.  This part, Why Write? will deal with style, technique and execution -- or rather, everything that doesn't directly relate to the syntax of a book and the construction of our language.  So, basically, you could call it "writing advice" (but I personally find that a dull, boring title).


I was originally planning to have an answer to the question "Why Write?", but I don't think there is one.  Oh, well.  I write because I find it fun.  What about you?


TBG

Top Hat, Old Chap/Meet the Island! Introduction

Okay.  Since it's my birthday, I thought I'd explain this in more detail, plus why I had the insane idea to include something so... unpredictable? on my blog.


There are three reasons:


1.  England is a tiny island.  Not everybody in the world lives there.  Most of the world hasn't been there.  But it's made its mark on history, and like the duck-billed platypus, there seems to be something about it that draws curiosity (and I'm sure it's not just our Yorkshire puddings).


2.  I used to belong to a writing website (as I mentioned before, I think) called Inkpop.  This website was largely inhabited by people from North America, although there were also a number of Aussies and people from various other counties floating around.  For some reason, I ended up as one of the only Brits who was well-known on the site, and despite the glaringly wet-fish-slapping-face-obvious giveaways that I was English from spellings such as "rumour" and "socialise", I often got "huh?  You're from ENGLAND?  WHOA!"  (Cue a hundred and one odd questions and the accusations that I must be a fraud since I don't like tea -- yes, criminal, I know.)  I think I must've explained the university and school systems here, affirmed that King's Cross is a real place and had the awkwardness of me or the person I'm talking to getting mixed up over American football and soccer at least fifty times. In short, I became an Item of Curiosity and was turned into an encyclopedia on Britain for various things.


3.  I'm quite often abroad (in fact, I live abroad), and I often meet foreigners.  Heck, in Brussels, I often become a walking information bureau.  People who don't speak French or Dutch often seem relieved to find an English speaker who knows her way around (they obviously don't know that almost everybody in Brussels can speak a fair amount of English, and most of them fluently too).  Apart from the obvious question of "what's somebody your age doing living abroad?", the most frequent thing I get asked after directions from the lost tourists is, "So, what's England like, then?"  (Note: no British tourist has asked me this.  Then again, I've only been stopped once by a British tourist.)


So, for anybody who's curious, here is a random (and I mean random) scattering of knowledge for you about stuff to do with the British Isles.  You may not have personally been here, but at least you can virtually meet the island.  I won't post about it every Wednesday, but when I post on Wednesdays, it'll be about Britain.  Top hat, what?


Oh, and by the way, guys -- King Arthur is not still alive.  And not all British people have that quaint accent (though I do).  But I am related to Robin Hood.


See you later, old chap!


TBG

The Random Corner: Introduction

Yay for randomness!


I have to say that people sometimes think I'm a very random person.  At other times, they think I'm sane.  I also managed to accumulate a number of extremely random nicknames while I was at school.  Some of them were related to me, although I'm not totally sure where "squirrel" or "gazelle" came from.


Basically, Tuesday's posts are going to be les restes, as the French (or at least the francophone Belgians) would say.  Anything that can't feasibly be linked to any of the other four categories will go in here, whether it's about the special room Romans had called the vomitorium (used most frequently at dinner parties) or because I want to obsess over kimchi or have a rant about something.


Oh, and by the way, if you ask me to do a post on something (reasonable -- no trolling now), I'll do my best to cover it.  Unless it's specific to writing, Britain or being abroad (all of which have their own areas), I'll do requested posts here.  So, if you wanted to, you could ask me about the Greek philosophers, or you might want my opinion on a sport, or... I don't know.  I might do stuff like a catchy phrase of the week or an obscure/big/foreign word of the week from time to time.  Chances are I'll also ramble about my books here too.  But this is the random corner.  Who wants to talk about Swiss cheese?


I'm sure I had something else that I wanted to say here, but I have completely forgotten it.  Maybe it'll come back.  Maybe it won't.


Until the next random post!


TBG

Hello, World!

This is my first time blogging (well, looking after my own blog), so I'm quite nervous. Anyway, I thought I'd explain a bit of what might happen on here.

I'm an aspiring writer, and I'm also quite stingy about using proper grammar. I used to be on a website called inkpop.com (back in the day before it was sold to Figment), and I was asked to write a guide to proper grammar on there. There'll be writing advice too, but this isn't a blog on writing. I should say that I do actually teach English. I'm stronger on UK English grammar than on US grammar, but I do mostly know what I'm talking about.

Since I live abroad, I'm often asked about what it's like. I'll also be documenting a few things about that. Then there'll be lots of random stuff in between. I'm happy to do posts on things that I'm asked to do, provided it's sensible. I can get philosophical, and I'm also the type of person who'll start analysing something if I'm left alone for longer than three minutes.

For those of you who may not have been to England, I'll also occasionally introduce you to the awesomeness that is my home country. If I'm in the mood, I might also put an odd phrase/quote/thing up each week.

I can't promise to post daily or on a totally regular basis as I'm busy person (and not always thinking in English, which makes it hard to write in English at the same time), but each type of post (e.g. A Brit Abroad, Writing Advice, etc.) will come out on the same day of the week as other posts on that theme have come out. My basic plan for a timetable (though I may not stick to it, and I definitely won't be posting each day every week) is something like this: Mondays -- grammar (a.k.a. The Dummy's Guide on How Not to Assassinate the English Language); Tuesdays -- random or requested stuff (a.k.a. The Random Corner); Wednesdays -- anything to do with Britain (a.k.a. Top Hat, Old Chap!/Meet the Island); Thursdays -- writing advice (a.k.a. Why Write?); Fridays -- living/going abroad (a.k.a. A Brit Abroad). I probably won't post at weekends.

Hope you guys enjoy!

The British Girl.