Tribal Motherhood: The Day I Realised I am a Wanker Mum

Campervan

Organic Camper Van Mum Tribe: Fully Paid Member

The playground is the most tribal place I have ever been, and I’m not talking about the children. The first time you enter a school yard as an adult, you may feel naked and small all over again just like you did as a child. Perhaps, like me, you will come over all foetal and experience flashbacks,  huddling up on a bench, hiding and snotting yourself into the nylon sleeve of a kindly dinner lady while Goliath-sized boys play football two inches from your face.

The thing we don’t anticipate about school when we become parents is that we have to learn, all over again, how to navigate the disorienting waters of playground politics, staffroom statesmanship and results-oriented hysteria. But here’s the thing; it is all much easier if you are part of a clique team. Therefore, all parents are advised to find a playground tribe. These are parents paddling the same kind of canoe in roughly the same direction on vaguely the same river as you.

After a few weeks in the playground, you will start to notice other parents who clearly drink the same amount of caffeine and who are in a similar state of disarray/grooming as you. This is the first sign that they may be a kindred soul. An affinity will develop. You will start to chat and find that you share the same thoughts on what time it is ok to have a V&T (7pm if you must know) and you will begin to rely on each other for support and practical help. Others will join and you will feel that you have found a kind of tribe bonded by shared experience, this journey with your children that lasts for years. It is only in retrospect you will learn that it is more akin to being on a submarine with a bunch of people who, like you, are ever-so-slightly doomed to never resurface. Nevertheless, if you find a parental tribe, however small, cling to them, cling to them like badly flipped pancakes on a suburban kitchen ceiling.

There is an assumed ‘tribe of motherhood’, but actually, there are so many variations, interpretations and individual experiences of bringing children into and up in the world, that giving birth in itself is not a unifying experience. Perhaps the huge disparity between mothering styles and expectations is one of the reasons we still command so little political power. Nowhere are the differences between us more apparent than the playground, the first place you see a lot of mothers in one place after the labour ward if, like me, you studiously avoided hell ‘mother/toddler’ groups.

Hovering near the limescale-ridden playground drinks fountain which acts as an equivalent of the water-cooler at work, you can get a sense of the extraordinary scope of mum tribes. Like a binocularless playground twitcher, you’ll catch sightings of No Stains Mums (aka. OCD mums), Rock n‘ Roll Mums (who miraculously still seem to go out in the evenings), Overly-Attached Mums (child wrapped around each leg, usually on the verge of tears), No Boundaries Mums (their children wrapped around other people’s legs, other people in tears), Organic Camper Van Mums  (weirdly calm – possibly on valium), Perpetually More Exhausted Than Anyone Else Mums (husbands do even less than yours),  On the Verge Mums (their volcanic anger festers like an abscess) and the scariest of all, The Four Mothers of the Apocalypse aka Judgmental Mums (these are the ones you bump into just as you give your child a blue ice cream as a bribe to stop them shouting “cock” at everyone).  You won’t even catch a glimpse of the Mysterious Mums except at the Christmas fair. Sighting of these mothers is rare; they’re like endangered and magnificent snow leopards. They not only work full-time, but are statistically likely to still be doing more housework than their partners.  The list of parent tribes is endless and this doesn’t even include the religious, gender-based and cultural subsets such as Freelance Meedyah Dads, Vicar Flirts and The Women of the Sad Eyes whose  private histories are hidden beneath their many skirts.

I thought I vacillated between the Camper Van and On the Verge tribes until one day,  I realised I am part of a whole other mummy tribe…

It was a beautiful autumn morning; a gorgeous low sun filtered through the trees of my local park where I was walking. The occasional horse chestnut descended into the leaves with a thud, cobwebs glistened, busy London squirrels made winter plans. A pregnant friend called me on my mobile. She was having a serious wobble about the huge life-change ahead of her. “I mean…” she sobbed down the phone. “I mean, I just can’t bear to become one of those middle-class wanker mums pushing their baby around the park in a Bugaboo wearing Birkenstocks, sipping lattes and spending all day pureeing organic vegetables. I mean… I just can’t bear it.”

“Er…no… that won’t happen to you, you’ll be fine,” I said reassuringly, looking down at my powder-blue Birkenstocks. I dropped my mobile back into my handbag which dangled off the handles of an orange Bugaboo, a monstrous four-wheel-drive type of pram that cost more than our car (it was a gift I might add).  I decided not to pop into Gail’s for a latte after all. Instead, I pulled an organic apple from my ‘I Love Kensal Rise’ reusable shopping bag and crunched into it ruefully. So that’s it, I thought, I am a Wanker Mum.

Musician KT Tunstall: Desert Boots

Catching The Comet'sTailI am delighted to welcome singer/songwriter KT Tunstall to Catching the Comet’s Tail. KT’s new album, Invisible Empire// Crescent Moon, is as haunting and plaintive a record as you’ll ever hear, capturing a unique time in the singer’s life. Recorded over twenty days in the middle of the Arizona desert, Invisible Empire is musically stripped down, as emotionally raw and vast as the landscape which spawned it. Yep, it’s a good one, perhaps even her best yet.

KT on creativity… 

KT Tunstall Portrait“I’ve mostly felt like a conduit for songs, although that has shifted on  Invisible Empire//Crescent Moon. It has presented a new process of deeper personal expression which feels much more internal this time.

I’ve always called myself a ‘lightning bolt’ writer. The idea comes very quickly and strongly. I can’t schedule when to write, it pretty much comes when it chooses. I do have muses, often they inspire more than one song.

If I had to choose a physical place where my creativity resides, I’ve always had a sensation that it is about 4 feet above my head, moving past at great speed, like a wispy river.”

Was creativity encouraged in you as a child and who were your early creative influences?

“I had pretty free reign as a child to try whatever I wanted, as long as I promised to put some effort in. No-one else in my family was inclined towards playing instruments or performing, so I was the black sheep. I asked for a piano at age 4, and took up stage acting at 8. I was a tap-dancer, played classical flute also, and always loved art. Music and creative writing always felt like a world I belonged to from when I was very small. Music in particular felt like a language I understood.

I wanted to be an actress from the age of 8, but as soon as I taught myself guitar and started song-writing at 15, I became much more interested in writing my own material and being in charge of my own path.

I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t dreaming of living a life based around creating and performing. I wasn’t into listening to music until into my mid teens, but when I was small I loved the Sesame Street and Muppet Show music which I still think is exceptional. I was also a big fan of Roald Dhal and Dr Seuss, and still am.”

How long have you been working on your current album and can you recall the first spark of inspiration and is the finished work what you first envisioned? If the original concept has changed, in what ways? How do you know when a record is finished?

“My new album took 20 days to record in 2012; 10 days in April, and 10 days in November/December. It was all recorded in live takes to old reel-to-reel tape in Tucson, Arizona. It was heavily inspired by meeting and working with Howe Gelb, frontman of the band Giant Sand, who produced the album with me. His invitation to go out to the desert started the creative process. Being there shaped it greatly also. He has a great maverick attitude to life in general which permeated the music. There was no great album vision, just a desire to make simple, rich recordings of live performances, drawing out as much emotion as possible.

I was also inspired by King Creosote & Jon Hopkins’ gorgeous album Diamond Mine. It’s a stunning record, and renewed my love of, and faith in, beauty and simplicity.

I am fascinated by the notion of ‘finishing’ creative work. The only way I can describe it is that you just somehow know in your belly. I always feel a bump of excitement when I feel the realisation that something is finished. I asked a German artist friend of mine, Jonas Burgert, the same thing as he makes huge, very intricate work. He said the same; ‘you just know’.”

Who, what or where always inspires your creativity, no matter what and what, if anything, is guaranteed to kill it?

“Landscape and travel have always been a great creative catalysts for me.

As for killing it, being around people and cities all the time. I need space and time to myself to write. And someone attempting to tell me what to do is never helpful.”

Do you ever feel that creating new things is a chore? What do you do when you feel blocked creatively?

“Creating is always pretty thrilling for me, but I only ever attempt it when I’m feeling inspired. I think if I had to write to timetable, I’d go off it pretty quickly. Making something where there was nothing feels like a wonderful, alchemical process for me. If it felt like a chore, I’d have to assume that whatever I was making wasn’t worth it. I do believe that the nature of the spirit and energy used to make something remains part of it.

I’ve never felt ‘blocked’ as such, I have just had to wait longer at times for new material to arrive. If nothing is coming, I leave it until it does. The longest I go without writing is when I’m I tour, so it can be months at a time. But often that long break leads to a concentrated output of work; I wrote the first half of the new album, probably 8 or 9 songs in total, in two months after a long period of not writing.”

Is there a collaborative element to your work? Please say something about how you involve others in your creative process  or do you prefer to work alone?

“If I had to choose, I would write alone. I don’t feel as able to replicate the deeper relationship I have with work that is 100% my own when it comes to collaborative work. I didn’t write with anyone else for 10 years, and when I first moved to London my publisher asked me to try out co-writing. A lot of it was soulless and depressing, but I did develop two or three really cherished partnerships with writers that I love and trust, so anything I do with them I know will be great quality in my mind. I find collaborating useful if I am in a lazy phase, it often kick-starts my creative brain again.”

Please talk a bit about the environment you like to be in to create. 

“Most importantly, I like to be alone. I usually write at home. I need it to be quiet, so seclusion is definitely key.

My favourite writing situation would be a great view of the sea, or empty landscape, or being able to see the stars at night. I imagine a little house perched on top of an inaccessible cliff…bliss.

There is a particular table at The Wolseley, a posh restaurant in London, which I love sitting at on my own and writing in my journal. I feel like I’m watching a Peter Greenaway film and can sit there for hours.”

Do you have a daily routine when you are creating a project? 

“I’m not a fan of routine. It’s taken me a long time to respect my process, and realise when it is happening that it is important and deserves space and time, rather than feeling like I’m just dicking about and could be doing something more useful. These days, I allow myself time, and a lot of tea! I relax into it, let myself drift, and don’t get worried if things don’t get finished in one go.

I used to mostly write late at night as there’s no disturbance, but I am much more of a daytime writer now. I still occasionally have to get out of bed in the dark if I have a really good melody and lyric idea as I never remember music the next morning.”

Please share a photo of an object that connects with your creative process and tell us about it.

KT Tunstall's Boots“Every time I release an album, I have a main pair of shoes that I will wear to play that music in. I find that it makes a real difference to how I feel when I play, what I wear on my feet. I stamp a lot, and use my feet with my equipment. I remember once needing to change my shoes on stage about 4 songs into my gig because I was so aware that I wasn’t wearing the right ones.

This is the first album where I’ve engaged fully with using image to express myself. It’s been an important step forward for me, feeling that the imagery is meaningful to the same degree as the music. In the past it has always been secondary. These are the boots that will see me through this new album.”

Which other creative art form outside the one you are known for do you wish you could master or have you mastered another that we don’t know about yet?

“I am writing a film script at the moment which I’m enjoying as much as song-writing. I’ve always enjoyed visual lyrics, so script writing takes me right into the heart of that.”

Please say as much or as little as you’d like about your next project and the stage you are at with it.

“It’s an animated film script which myself and my friend and collaborator Jim Abbiss have concocted. It started as a music project, which then became a soundtrack. We’ve been working on it for a couple of years now and have just finished the first draft, so we’re excited to move on to the next stage of seeing it become a reality.

Although we’re having so much fun writing it, we don’t actually want to finish it…”

Invisible Empire/Crescent MoonKT’s new album Invisible Empire/Crescent Moon is out now. You can follow KT on Twitter, find her on Facebook or check out her website here.

Graphic Novelist Glyn Dillon: Access All Areas

Catching The Comet'sTailThis week’s Catching the Comet’s Tail features graphic novelist Glyn Dillon. His book, The Nao of Brown, tells the darkly beautiful story of Nao, a half-Japanese woman who falls in love with a washing machine repairman. Dillon’s illustrations are stylistically diverse and sublimely coloured, making Nao one of the most exquisite tomes I have on my bookshelf. Earlier this year, Glyn was awarded the Prix Spécial du Jury at this year’s comic book equivalent of the Oscars, the Angoulême International Festival Of Bande Dessinée. I was curious to discover whether Glyn’s creative process differs whether he is writing or drawing. Here’s what he had to say…

Glynn DillonGlyn on creativity and the creative process.

“Is creativity within me? Hmm… I’d say there’s something somewhere, I don’t know where, like there’s an ‘ideasphere’ and that’s where all the good stuff is. When you’re tuned in to that, things just  flow, both with writing and drawing. So it’s a case of trying to get an ‘Access All Areas’ pass for that. But really that’s only the half of it, because there’s also a lot of cliched crap. I’m the ‘ideasphere’, so once I’ve got whatever it is I want down on paper, I need the editor part of my brain to come in and sort it all out to re-write or re-draw it. Being truly productive for me, is when I’m able to get those two very different ways of working to dance together in time.”

Was creativity encouraged in you as a child?

“Absolutely. My dad and brother are artists and my mum and sister are both very creative too. My brother was probably the biggest influence though. He was already drawing comics professionally having started aged 16. When I was 17, I met and became friends with Jamie Hewlett (creator of Tank Girl & Gorillaz) who inspired and influenced me in other ways, especially in his work ethic.”

How long did it take to put together The Nao of Brown? Can you recall the first spark of inspiration and is the finished work what you originally envisioned?

“The original idea for The Nao of Brown was sparked by my eldest boy. When he was about 18months old, he was scared of our washing machine – not when it was on and whizzing round – but when the door was open. He was scared of that dark hole. That led to the inspiration for Gregory, the washing machine repairman, and in his story, Nao was going to be his  love interest.  At the time I was learning to meditate, which also coincided with me learning my wife had suffered with OCD as a child and into her late teens. All these things combined over a weird three day period and the major elements of the story fell into place. Nao upgraded herself to being the main protagonist after it became obvious that she should have OCD. I wanted to learn as much as possible about the condition and this seemed as good a way as any.

Those early ideas were bubbling up around 2008 and I finished the book in May 2012. I had to take on storyboarding jobs as well so I wasn’t able to work on Nao full-time until the last seven months when I worked seven days a week, 9.00am to 3.00am, which was pretty tough going.

How did you know the book was finished?

“Well, I guess when I was high on drugs, in hospital because of my back, but was still going over the wet proofs for the dust jacket… even after  I was discharged, I was still being picky about things when I got home. I guess I found it difficult to let go. But I suppose I knew it was really finished when my publisher handed me a fresh copy out of a box that was full of them. That was a great feeling.”

Who, what or where always inspires your creativity and what, if anything, is guaranteed to kill it?

“Travelling is always good for inspiration because suddenly all the usual things, the everyday, commonplace things are a little different (or very different depending on where you are).  I find this visually exciting and inspiring, the senses feel that bit more heightened. Also, architecture inspires me – having a new sense of place sparks my imagination.

In terms of writing, I find solitude a necessity. Ideas are elusive, slippery things; you have to listen out for them carefully so you can’t afford to have any other voices in the room. With drawing however, it’s not always the same. Once the layouts have been thumbnailed, it’s possible to listen to the radio or music with lyrics and work at the same time.

I have to be able to create a safe bubble. If outside worries or stresses intrude, it can become impossible to work and those things will need sorting before I can carry on.”

Do you ever feel that creating new things is a chore? What do you do when you feel blocked creatively?

“If I’m creating new things for myself, whether it be a book or a sandcastle with the kids, then no. However, if I’m working on a film and I don’t quite have that ‘taste alignment’ with the director, then yes, sometimes it can feel like a chore and I become fully aware of my ‘gun for hire’ position. I sometimes have to look hard for something in a bad idea that can hold my interest for the duration. But some twisted part of me enjoys that challenge.

I’m not a real believer in writer’s or artist’s block. In my experience, if you’re having a bad day where nothing is flowing, you just have to keep working, even if you know it’s shit. Eventually you’ll turn a corner and it’s all the more satisfying knowing that you’ve worked your way through it. Maybe what people are talking about when they say ‘writer’s block’ is either fear, or even depression – but that’s obviously a different thing entirely.”

Is there a collaborative element to your work? 

“Storyboarding film and commercials have paid the mortgage over the last seventeen years, and that’s quite a collaborative process. What I enjoy most about it is that my job isn’t the end product, it’s just part of the process. Once used, it’s disposable; only a handful of people get to see it. This is a very good exercise for the artist’s ego. It freed me up a lot, so when I came back to comics, to doing Nao, I think I was much freer than I had been in the past with regards to my work.”

Please talk a bit about the environment you like to be in to write. 

Glynn Dillon's Desk

Glynn’s ‘messy’ desk

“We’d just had our attic converted when I started on Nao, so that became my workspace. When writing, I shifted my days around so that I was working through the night and sleeping in the day. I wrote the whole book before I started drawing. I wrote it in a film script format, with no page breaks, and went through six drafts before I felt I could start thumbnailing. It took three months of nights to get through those six drafts. I saw more of the kids during the week because I would wake up around 4pm and not start work until they’d gone to bed. This was great, except weekends were hard on my wife because I was sleeping in the day. I consider myself very lucky in that department; my wife and family were completely understanding and supportive of me. I know it wasn’t always easy on them, so I’m very grateful. So, getting back to the question, my ‘environment’ was, and is, my family. And when that relationship is good and supportive, it makes the work so much easier.

When writing I only listen to wordless things – lots of soundtracks or foreign language stuff – 60s Bollywood soundtracks are a particular favourite. In the early stages of note taking and gathering ideas for Nao, I  listened to a lot of music that I thought Nao would like. A lot of this was stuff I wouldn’t listen to myself, but it really helped with the building of her character.”

Did you have a daily routine when you were writing/drawing Nao

“After the writing stage of Nao was over, I returned to daytimes and stuck quite rigidly to working 9.30-6.30, six days a week, and then sometimes I’d work in the evenings as well. I always tried to get out of the house to eat lunch and read the paper. Otherwise those four walls would quickly become oppressive. Luckily, my ‘commute’ was only upstairs so if I felt the need to see some smiling little faces, it wasn’t far to go.

I’m definitely more of a night person, always have been, but having small children isn’t conducive to that lifestyle. Once they’re teenagers I’m sure I’ll edge back more towards what feels like my natural state.”

Please share a photo of an object that connects with your creative process and tell us about it. 

Daruma Netsuke

“This is something my wife gave me and I can still remember the shock felt by both me and my eldest son when I first opened it. I tipped it slightly and his eyes popped out!  It made us both really jump. It’s a Daruma Netsuke [miniature Japanese sculpture] and Daruma is a direct inspiration for Gregory [the washing machine repairman in Nao].”

Which other creative art form outside the one you are known for do you wish you could master or have you mastered another that we don’t know about yet?

“It would be nice to play a musical instrument but I never seem to find the time. And I’ve always fancied the idea of a bit of topiary in my retirement years (if they ever come).”

How did becoming a parent affect your creativity?

“I think it’s safe to say it made me work harder. I was nervous because our second son was due at the same time I was due to start on the book. I had no idea how that was gonna work out. The saying that goes, “It’s never the right time to have a child,” could just as easily apply to writing a book. You just have to get on with it and deal with things as they come up.”

Please say as much or as little as you’d like about your next creative project.

“At the moment I’m working on a film, as a concept artist in the costume dept. I’m also at the fun stage of a new book project. Trying to remain alert and aware of everything going on around me that might become a part of the book. So far I have a setting, a protagonist, a theme. I think I’m going to try a more improvisational approach with this one, I just need to get hold of that ‘Access All Areas’ pass.”

Nao of Brown Glynn Dillon Glyn’s graphic novel The Nao of Brown is available now, published by Self Made Hero.  Follow Glyn on Twitter or find out more from his website www.naobrown.com.

Next week’s Catching the Comet’s Tail features musician KT Tunstall talking about her creative process.

Author Ben Hatch: Cheese, Marriage and Qwerty Keyboards

CatchingTheCometsTailI’m delighted to welcome author Ben Hatch to Catching the Comet’s Tail.  Ben is a master of the kind of acute observation of family life that has you pondering the deeper significance of  the type of breakfast cereal your spouse prefers. His last book, Are We Nearly There Yet? about a family trip around Britain in a Vauxhall Astra, was wonderfully funny and incredibly poignant. The sequel, The Road to Rouen,  takes us on another Hatch family trip, this time around France. Along the way, Ben’s marriage, life and love of fromage are put in equal jeopardy. I think of him as a kind John Cleese/Gerald Durrell hybrid, only featuring cars and condiments instead of animals. If you haven’t put him on your summer reading list, do!

Author Ben HatchBen Hatch on creativity…

“My creative process simply involves sitting cross-legged on the cheese-stained swivel chair in my study for long enough to write something that’s not so dreadful the next day when I come to read it back I have the will power to try and build on it. As unromantic as it sounds, it’s a bit like bashing the end of a near empty bottle of ketchup, the ketchup bottle being my head, the ketchup itself is the words and the plate’s the screen. Hopefully (and I might be stretching this ketchup analogy way too far now) amongst the unusable, thin, red spray of relish they’ll be one salvageable dollop worth dipping a chip in.”

Was creativity encouraged in you as a child and who were your early literary influences?

“The only way I can talk about creativity in my childhood is through an analogy using Coleman’s Mustard. That’s a lie. I was pretending after the ketchup thing to be obsessed with different relishes. I’m not obsessed by different relishes. My father was in the Cambridge Footlights and a contemporary of The Goodies and half of what would become the Monty Python team but creativity wasn’t actively encouraged in our house. The ability to play sport was however, although unfortunately I was so ungainly I couldn’t work the swing in our back garden until I was about 9 and I am still unable to do a forward roll. My grandmother on my dad’s side and my mum’s sister were both excellent painters as is my sister. I desperately wanted to take after them and I remember the day I showed my dad a picture of the life-cycle of the butterfly I’d completed in 2b pencil. I’d drawn a chrysalis, a caterpillar and a cabbage white butterfly in such extraordinary detail it was attached to the fridge by my mum. Just as it was starting to be acknowledged I’d inherited my family’s artistic streak I was caught tracing a hippopotamus through greaseproof paper and exposed as a fraud. My only creative trigger has been the need to impress my father. I remember the first time I made him laugh. We were on a family holiday eating out. The joke I made was about how my sister had eaten such a lot of crab she’d probably walk out of the restaurant sideways. It’s not that funny but I was 12 and my dad was Head of Light Entertainment at BBC Radio and he seemed thrilled by the idea of “Benjy’s first joke”. From then on all I ever wanted to do was make my dad laugh. I wrote derivative Monty Python comedy sketches for a while then I tried to become an comic actor but I was hopelessly wooden. I fixed on writing books after I fell in love with Catcher in the Rye. Before I’d read this I had no idea books were capable of being funny and moving at the same time. Minus a brief period when I wanted to be a professional snooker player and became obsessed with Tony Meo that I don’t want to go into, that’s all I ever wanted to be.”

How long did it take to write The Road to Rouen and can you recall the first spark of inspiration?

“The Road to Rouen took about five months to write. The inspiration came from the tight deadline. To finish the book I had to get up at 4am every day including weekends for several months. The book is not at all as I imagined it would be. While it’s mainly light-hearted in tone I somehow ended up dissecting my marriage too which I put in jeopardy on the trip by doing some very silly things one of which included almost being gored and another saw me almost get murdered. I know rewriting a book is finished when I start taking sections out and then reinstating them before removing the day after. At that point you’re fiddling and it’s time to let it go.”

Who, what or where always inspires your creativity, no matter what and what, if anything, is guaranteed to kill it?

“I’m not aware of ever feeling inspired although some days it’s easier to write well than others. But that can often be misleading. Often when I think I’ve written something particularly good, I read it back and realise it’s rubbish but then it works the other way too. That’s why I never throw anything away. My computer is filled with abandoned chapters and scenes that one day I’m hoping to revisit and find some merit in. Seeing and experiencing new things obviously helps the creative process, especially if it’s a situation I feel uncomfortable in. In fact there’s a constant and very annoying tension in my life between avoiding things I don’t want to do because they scare me and the realisation that if I do them it’ll make good material. In an ideal world I’d get inspiration from being sat on the sofa watching telly with a bag of mixed nuts and raisons and a glass of wine by my side but that’s not the way it works unfortunately.”

Do you ever feel that creating new things is a chore and what do you do when you feel blocked creatively?

“I’d much rather be rewriting than writing something new. It’s not a chore in the same way working on an Icelandic trawler at 3am reeling in a herring net is a chore, but it’s the hardest part of the job. That’s because you know 90 per cent of what you’re writing won’t survive in the final draft. There can’t be many jobs that are this unproductive. If you worked in any other profession, say as a doctor or teacher, and wasted 90 per cent of your time you’d be fired. In terms of writer’s block, I don’t believe in it. I know this because I once spent seven years writing the same book. That happened because I decided I wanted the novel out of contract. A terrible mistake. A writer with writer’s block is a writer in need of a deadline.”

Please talk a bit about the environment you like to be in to write. 

Ben Hatch Creative Space

“As long as I have a qwerty keyboard I don’t mind where I work although I like to be near a kettle, a toaster and a sizeable lump of cheese to gnaw on like a rat. I like to play music in the background and I often loop a particular song. I can play the same track 456 times over without getting in the slightest bit bored of it. However, I work alongside my wife (about 20cm from her in fact. She’s a freelance travel journalist and we share a study) and this tends to drive her crazy so on the whole I work in silence apart from every now and again like just now when she leant over and showed me a picture of a Victorian tap online that she thought we should have in the bathroom because there was a picture of a similar one in the Sunday Times style section at the weekend.”

Do you have a daily routine when you are writing? 

“I like to start early before my kids wake up, before anyone is on twitter or emailing and also so I can act like a weary martyr in the evening when my wife asks me to do something trivial such get up and put the latest Friday Night Lights disc in the DVD player. “Can you? (pained face) I did get up at 5am.” I don’t have a set word count like most authors. Instead I give myself a time limit to complete a chapter.”

Is there a collaborative element to your work? 

“I’ve always wanted to work collaboratively. It’s the way they put together American sitcoms and often I’ve pictured myself firing off ideas sat around a table with other writers but in reality the chances are I’d probably not contribute anything under this system because I’d be too shy or diffident and instead I’d merely laugh at everyone else’s stuff feeling disgruntled and intimidated. I don’t like to show anyone anything until right at the end. In the past I’ve shown my wife something too early and it’s always counter productive because if she dislikes it, it’s disheartening and if she likes it, it’s always the bit that you later feel has to be cut but now as she liked it, you’re resistant to this idea, and the whole process slows down.”

Please share a photo of an object that connects with your creative process.

Ben Hatch Lucky Heather“I have two things I keep connected to my work. One is this piece of heather. (Left) I bought it from a gypsy woman in Ben Hatch's Letter Leicester Square for £1 just hoping for luck just before I went into the Curtis Brown literary agency in 1997. The second is this letter my dad wrote to me when I started living back home after university and had been fired from 8 jobs in as many months where he pretty much calls me an oaf.” (Right)

Which other creative art form outside the one you are known for do you wish you could master?

“I’d love to be the sort of person who could sit on a pretty hill in a loose fitting shirt with unbuttoned cuffs and paint a typical English landscape below me in oils maybe in a soft flat hat with a picnic hamper of sandwiches for lunch in a small knapsack between my feet. That would be immensely relaxing, I imagine. I’d also like to be able to play the piano. I took lessons when my daughter started aged 6 but within weeks she was better than me and I lost heart and quit when she criticised my scales.”

How did becoming a parent affect your creativity? 

“What’s the Cyril Connolly quote: “There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall.” I believed that for many years and it almost stopped me having kids. Then when I had them I discovered it was bollocks. If anything becoming a father helped instil some discipline into my life and writing. Like how football manager’s always want their players to get married and settle down because they focus more on their game, it was the same with me. Every hour spent working has a premium when you have young kids because it’s time you could be spending with them watching Underground Ernie or making a den out of sofa cushions and travel rugs. It means you have to make your hours at the keyboard count and try your best to get off Twitter and websites where there are admittedly quite humorous objects that look like Hitler.”

Please say as much or as little as you’d like about your next book and the stage you are at with it.

“The Road to Rouen, the sequel to Are We Nearly There Yet? has just been published by Headline. It’s about a 10,000 mile drive around France that I completed with my family. I was researching a guidebook. I thought the greatest danger would be the boredom of spending so long in the car although at various points we’re attacked by a donkey, there’s a run-in with a death-cult, a calamitous wedding experience involving a British spy before I almost end up starring in a snuff movie after a near fatal decision to climb into a millionaire’s Chevrolet Blazer. Although actually the book is really about marriage and the up and downs that everyone experiences along this journey. I’m also currently working on a sitcom treatment of my first novel The Lawnmower Celebrity for the BBC as well as researching my next travelogue which will be a road-trip round Italy. I also have a theory about curing the common cold. Seriously. I’m on to something. It involves sneezing, that’s all I’ll say. Watch this space.”

Road to RouenYou can follow @BenHatch on Twitter and his Facebook page is here, although it is, by his own admission, “Fairly rubbish.”

Road to Rouen is published on May 23rd by Headline books. You can order it here.

 

 

The Empress's Old Clothes: On Why Every Ageing Woman Needs Patti Smith

Reblogged from Sara Bran:

Click to visit the original post

Call me reckless and foolhardy, but I thought de-cluttering the attic would be a constructive way to spend a drizzly London Sunday. Fast-forward three hours however, and I was sitting on my bed in emotional turmoil, weeping over ‘old stuff’.

It all started innocently enough. The initial few feet of clutter comprised a series of dusty suitcases, lined up like dutiful soldiers.

Read more… 1,405 more words

Author Matt Haig: Loving the Alien

CatchingTheCometsTailThis week, Catching the Comet’s Tail features author Matt Haig. I like to imagine that if, by some time-bending miracle, Rene Descartes could meet David Bowie at a space cafe where the only thing on the menu is peanut butter served on slices of philosophical bread, Matt would be there taking notes. Haig’s latest novel, The Humans, is a simple yet moving story that will have you weeping at the beauty and futility of it all. Welcome to the world of an author who puts the ‘sigh’ in sci-fi.

Matt Haig

Matt Haig photo by Clive Doyle

Matt on creativity…

“I think writing sometimes comes from intense experiences. You are not necessarily writing about those experiences but it helps me that I have had them. I think the body and the mind are very closely linked. When I used to have panic attacks, it was my heart and my mind going crazy together. You feel things and experience things and somehow these experiences turn into stories. It is a mystery. If you write non-fiction then you write with a clear knowledge of where your words stem from, but with fiction you are generally asking questions, not giving answers.”

Was creativity encouraged in you as a child and who were your early literary influences?

“I was quite bookish but didn’t go to a school where being bookish was a good thing, so I often used to hide the fact from my friends. I loved all the usuals – Dahl, Jansson, SE Hinton…then, as a teen, Stephen King in a major way. But I think a lot of the writer sensibility comes from staring out of windows. I used to do that a lot, wrapped up in the comfort of my own imagination. My parents also took me to the theatre a lot and our house was a house of books.”

How long did it take to write The Humans and can you recall the first spark of inspiration?

“The Humans took me over a decade, technically, because I first had the idea for it in 2000 when I was suffering from panic disorder, and feeling alienated from the rest of my species. However, I was scared of writing it as a first novel for 2 reasons – firstly, I didn’t want to be labelled as a sci-fi writer, which technically this story is (in subject if not in spirit), and secondly, even though it was a fantasy, the story felt strangely personal, and it took a while to get the degree of honesty necessary. I needed to look at myself properly, and when you are 25 and trying to be cool that’s hard. The concept changed through the editing process. I am deeply proud of this book and don’t mind shouting about it from the rooftops. I think it is by far the best thing I have ever done, but it only got that way with the help of my editor at Canongate, Francis Bickmore. You see, the first draft would have literally alienated most readers. He told me to think of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and feed the weirdness in gradually and that is what I tried to do. And you know [a book] is finished when you have exhausted your editor and he says it is finished.”

Who, what or where always inspires your creativity, no matter what? And what, if anything, is guaranteed to kill it?

“I can only work at home. Preferably in my attic. But I can have music on or even the TV. I have tinnitus, so quiet is more distracting than noise. Twitter is a creativity-killer though.”

 What do you do when you feel blocked creatively?

“Go for a run. Or, if in a serious slump, get away on holiday.”

Please share a photo of something that connects with your writing process.

Matt Haig's Peanut Butter

Every writer needs it…peanut butter.

“My writing staple… peanut butter.”

Is there a collaborative element to your work? 

“Well, I have a great editor. And my wife is a writer, so I show her stuff and she tells me what she likes and what she doesn’t. But I am a shut-myself-away kind of writer to be honest.”

Where do you most like to be when you write, and do you have a daily routine? 

Matt Haig Writing

Matt’s favourite writing place.

“I hate writing at a desk so I can normally be found lounging around my house. This is my favourite spot.

I work three times as well in the morning as the afternoon. For every sentence I write in the afernoon, I can write a paragraph in the morning. So my rule is: START EARLY, FINISH EARLY.”

Which other creative art form outside the one you are known for do you wish you could master?

“I’d like to be a film director. My Dad is an architect. I’d love to design a building.”

How did becoming a parent affect your creativity?

“You have less time, so you become more productive. You use the time you have more wisely. You become more disciplined. I also think I have a more optimistic world-view. My style has become a little bit sunnier I think.”

What are you working on next?

“I have been asked to write a screenplay for The Humans. So, that!”

The Humans Matt HaigYou can find out more about Matt on his blog, or find him on Twitter and Facebook. His novel The Humans is out now from Canongate  Books.

Reward Stickers for Adults: Gummy Little Redeemers

The Averys

The Averys

It is time my friends. Time to pay homage to the couple who made the task of modern parenting/teaching/damage limitation possible. The inventor of the self-adhesive sticker, Mr. R Stanton Avery and his wife, Dorothy Durfee.

The Reward Sticker. Oh, how I have come to love these gummy little redeemers. These precious paper wafers, tools of compliance, delicate as gold leaf, and more loaded with meaning than a communion biscuit. Stickers are dispensed to our children like angel’s kisses by teachers, doctors, and parents alike.  Within our children’s adhesive universe, there is a hierarchy of reward, ranging from the simple gold star to the ultimate, much coveted gummy prize; the large, glittery, puffy sticker, enhanced with foam.

My own relationship with self-adhesives runs thus:

1970-1977 ~ Boundless enthusiasm for ‘sticker collections’ equating, over a lifetime, to roughly £2500 worth 0f bubble gum in order to find 100 stickers.

1980-1984 ~ an odd flirtation with Sticky-Back-Plastic (Every. Single. School. Exercise Book.)

1996-1997 ~ a brief, rave-related bindi wearing phase.

2001- yesterday ~ a Post-It-Note based stationary fetish.

Which brings me to now. It was only yesterday, when the Biscuit Thief came home proudly displaying an “I ate all my lunch today” sticker AND a huge, red, glittery, puffy butterfly one for ‘sitting nicely’, that I thought, I want stickers. I bloody want bloody reward stickers.  I want them plastered on my torso each time I complete a yoga class, I want them daubed across my face when I achieve edible meal provision, I want them glued to my weary eyelids when I have, yet again, kept calm and carried on. I want to be agglutinated, affixed, pasted to within a papery inch of my wretched domestic life with stickers that say “WELL DONE!”

In fact, why stop there: I could give my husband stickers too, ones that say things like, “Today, I have been amazing at not mentioning my wife’s ‘tache.” The Teenage Songbird could have ones that say, “I am not on drugs or pregnant. RESULT!”

It was in 1935 that ‘Stan Avery’  invented the machine that made self-sticking labels. His creation saw the light of day thanks to a $50 investment from a woman called Dorothy Durfee, a school teacher, who became Stan’s wife. Together, Stan and Dorothy ran Kum-Kleen Adhesive Products as equal partners. Today, nearly eighty years on,  I shall construct a small altar to them made out of Avery mini labels and give thanks. Won’t you join me? You’ll get a reward sticker if you do.