How Seven Famous Writers Conquered…Writer’s block
Teeter Inversion Table |
Jessica Hinds |
image by K. Jasven
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All the Shaman Mysteries are set in the beautiful, but sometimes eerie landscape of the Somerset Levels, and Beneath the Toropens on Midsummer Eve at the top of Glastonbury Tor, where beautiful Alys Hollingberry dies suddenly after dancing the night away. The book has its own cast of Glastonbury characters and examines many of the myths and legends of this mystical town.
http://www.unitythroughdiversity.org/glastonbury-experience-courtyard.html |
Ronald Hutton with Nina Milton |
Arthur Billington |
A Perfectly Good Man, thenext book I read by Patrick Gale, is engrossing. The story examines events from various character viewpoints, moving around in time seemingly randomly to create a rich canvas. The characters are finely drawn, and the theme is deeply mined. I'm steadily becoming a fan of Patrick Gale's work and their fairly constant themes of Cornwall) dysfunctional families,and his continual theme of religion and Man's struggle within the confines of its boundaries of morality. The perfectly good man of the title is destined to fail - not precisely become a bad man, but indeed a flawed one. He did this in gloriously with horrendous consequences for him, his family and the wider community.
No Other Darkness is available from Amazon |
Candide by François-Marie Arouet, also known as Voltaire, was published in 1759 during the European 'enlightenment’ and at the time was banned as blasphemous, and politically seditious – Candide pokes a lot of fun at the establishment of the day. Voltaire was a sharp witty man, and (the two don’t often seem to go together) a philosopher, who strongly opposed certain Enlightenment ideas about social class. Candide is a naive young man whogrows up in a baron’s castle. His tutor Pangloss teaches him that this is “the best of all possible worlds.” Candide is discovered kissing the baron’s daughter, his secret love, and is expelled from his home. He wanders the world with Pangloss, surviving the most awful disasters and tortures, while Pangloss continues to describe life as ‘the best of all possible worlds”. Shortly after reading this novella, I saw the film Oh, Lucky Man, staring Malcolm McDowell, a sprawling musical intended as an allegory on life in the 20th century. I could not help linking the two stories. I still to this day believe that the screenplay takes its inspiration from Candide.
Witty, stylish, page-turning and very finely written. Fowler takes a startling subject and creates deeply-felt characters as well as a shocking twist in the middle of the book. The disturbing lives of the Cookes family consists of a pedantic psychologist father who specializes in animal behavior, an emotionally fragile mother and three children: Lowell, Rosemary and Fern.
One daughter mysteriously vanishes, the other changes from a prodigiously talkative child to a silent adult; the brother runs away. And beneath the basic plotline lies a story as fantastic, terrible and beautiful as any Grimm's fairy tale.
This unconventional, dysfunctional family can't be too autobiographical, but Bloomington, Indiana where they live in the novel is also where Fowler spent the first 11 years of her life.
I found the ending didn't live up to the promise of the rest of the book, but that may be because I wanted it to be fairytale, and in reality, that woulnd't have been fair, right or very convincing.
One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, published in 1962. During the seventies, when Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn was hitting headlines, I read most of his works. Some, like The Gulag Archipelago, are long and involved, and written to make people aware of what was going on in the USSR. But one of his smaller novels hit me the hardest. Denisovich is an account of life in a forced labour camp, and therefore of Stalinist repression. The book graphically illustrates what was happening behind the iron curtain – why people were thrown into camps and what happened to them there. Probably more than his longer non-fiction accounts, this was the book that forced the West to stop ignoring violent breaches of human rights behind the “iron-curtain.” Strangely, though, what struck me about it was its optimism, its emphasis on hope. I most clearly remember the scenes when, for instance, Ivan managed to gain a cigarette and inhaled the sweet smoke deep into his lungs. It seemed to sum up how humans will always seek something to cling to and make the most of the tiniest moments of joy.
Thank you, Publisher's Weekly, for the great review of my new book!
Diana Cambridge |
Dianna with Sue Adams sister of the late Doug ( Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy) Go to sherborne literary society for more details |
I think I have been a writer since the age of five.
My infant school teacher Mrs Marsden read a story to the class. It might have been the fable 'The Mouse and the Lion', but I can't really remember.
It was when Mrs Marsden asked the class to write a stor that I had my early epiphany. I was dumfounded. For the first time I realized that the books I loved had actually been written by real human beings. Before that, I believe they must have fallen from some sort of story heaven. It was a revelation. I haven't looked back.
I wrote my first novel at the age of fifteen. Well, okay I started to write a novel which I never finished. Writing by longhand was a distinct brake on my creativity, so I asked my friend to type it out. She was doing exams in typing at the time, so she was quite pleased.
I wrote in one corner of the room, while she typed. Blissful silence until Maggie looked up and said, 'it is a bit old-fashioned, but it's really nice.'
'Thanks,' I simpered. I'm hoping people will enjoy it.'
'Nina,' she said, 'I was talking about my new dress. I've been talking about my new dress for the last five minutes.'
I do believe I've got better since then, both at writing and listening to criticism!
As a children’s writer, I am bound to be influenced by the books I read as a child, but when I look back, the strangest, most obscure books have left the biggest impression.
My earliest memory is a book called Unicorn Island, which my father read to me when I was three or fourand I reread a million times afterwards. A coastal village of disparate animals live in fear of the offshore island, where white flashes of the dangerous unicorn can be seen circumnavigating the mountain.When the hero’s little brother falls dangerously ill, he and his friends take it uponthemselves to brave the island and come back with the healing herb. They discover all manner of wonderful things there, and the unicorn turns out to be the most marvellous of all. There is a slightly sinister atmosphere to the story and a gravity you don’t often find in picture books now…a precursor (but with a far longer story) of Where the Wild things Are.
Because I was often in bed with asthma, there were books I’d return to as a small child. The Adventures of Manly Mouse was one – Manly lived in a world where mice who went about their human endeavours in a little mousy town. He was a deliciously flawed character, often losing his job or breaking with good friends. He drove a dilapidated car and was easily duped by more suave mice. A phrase our family uses to this day came from the lips of one of Manly’s posh employers (who turned out to bea poor mouse in scam disguise)…and when I say shine, I don’t mean shine, I mean gleam. I when I say gleam, I don’t mean gleam, I mean glitter!
Some books I read too young. I can recall devouring Mary Poppins, which I was handed by Mrs Marsden in reception class with the words, ‘you’re past all these baby books,’ but when I read it aloud to my children thirty years later, the only things that rang a bell was the marvellously flavoured medicine and a strange man on a ceiling.
I can’t pretend I didn’t grow up on Enid Blyton, but the works that made the most impression were the magical Narnia stories and Anne of Green Gables. I loved the way Anne hurtled through life. Her ‘modular’ way of learning (by making every mistake in the book – literally) suits me to this day. But, as the books watched her grow into a woman,
I also (creep!) loved her commitment to duty and her attitude to life, which reminds me of that quote from Man for all Seasons, when Richard Rich asks… 'If I was, (a teacher) who would know it?' And Thomas Moore replies…'You, your pupils, your friends, God. Not a bad public, that…'
In some ways, the books I read made me the person I am. They were probably more influential than my textbooks or my teachers…or even my parents. I’ve even tried to rewrite some of their ideas into my own work, although that has rarely worked, and most of those early stories were never published. They were my apprenticeship, I guess, and although almost all of them are gone from my hands, I will never forget their stories and characters.