On the dotted line

I sent my publishing contract off yesterday (recorded delivery, of course!). It should have arrived at the Strident office in this morning's post. I understood about one word in ten. Fifteen A4 pages filled with lots of very long sentences and words that I would never dream of using in everyday conversation - hereto, hereinafter, thereof.

I got some wonderful advice and support from a person called Elizabeth at The Society of Authors (who I am now a fully fledged member of!) and she did her best to explain what it all meant in plain English. So in the end I felt reassured that it was alright that I didn't really understand what it all meant (!) I tried not to let the mild confusion overshadow the excitement. This is a big occasion after all. I am now legally and contractually obligated to consider myself an author.

Caroline took a photograph of me signing the contract for prosperity. I really wanted a friend to witness the moment - it just didn't feel right that I should be on my own when I signed on the dotted line. Unfortunately it was 11 o'clock in the morning and both Caroline and I reluctantly agreed that to open the bottle of Champagne (which has been chilling in my fridge for months now!) might be just a step too far. So we had a celebratory cup of tea instead. Rock on!!

Happy Birthday Barbie!

Seeing as you are unlikely to see a picture of Barbie as she would really look at 50, I thought I would paste one here for you to look at. I think she looks great. Let yourself grow old gracefully Barbie!

On the way to school this morning there was a discussion on the radio about Barbie. Did you know that if she were a real person she would be 5' 9" tall, weigh 110 pounds (this is 7 and a half stone - a BMI of 16.24 which would fit the criteria for anorexia) have a 39 inch bust, 18 inch waist and 33 inch hips? It's a fact that she would actually fall over due to her inability to support herself. This led me to some serious consideration of available role models for young girls to aspire to.

Girls in the age group spanning 9-13 (which incidentally is the target audience for my forthcoming novel "Bree McCready and the Half-Heart Locket", but we'll get to that in a minute..) are searching for the self they will one day become. Role models are there to help them establish which values and which lifestyle they will eventually have as part of their own identity. Writers and toy manufacturers have a tremendous amount of influence on young people and therefore a moral obligation to get it right. I had a think and here are a few female characters I think hit the spot -

Dora the Explorer - She's smart, speaks two languages, goes on adventures and gets herself out of scrapes. She's kind to animals and her family. She wears shorts and a t-shirt and isn't constantly twirling her hair. Love her.

Wendy from Bob the Builder - Persistently billed as Bob's 'business partner' just so we don't get the wrong idea. Wendy is a capable, hard-working woman who knows how to use her tool kit and make stuff.

Princess Fiona from Shrek - A princess who isn't conventionally pretty - she's a green ogre by the end of Shrek I - and a girl who can not only rescue herself but the prince too. A feminist icon?

Lisa Simpson - The brainiest child in a family of five, Lisa is fairly well rounded as far as cartoon characters go. She is an idealist who loves science and the saxophone and has an eccentric, if lovable family to contend with. She is an excellent role model for young women because she isn't ever afraid to blaze her own path, and she does it all without ever pulling down her shorts.

As a young girl I was constantly on the lookout for female characters I could relate to. I'm afraid to say that in the 1970's and 80's we didn't quite have the same range of positive role models as we do nowadays. I hated all those weedy princesses, who were quite frankly pathetic - sitting around all day brushing their hair and waiting for their handsome prince to rescue them - ha! how delusional were they?

It seemed curious to me that a lot of the fictional girls I thought were worthwhile had boy's names - Jo in Little Women and George in the Famous Five. Nancy Drew was the only girl I remember thinking "that's what I want to be". She stood up for herself and spoke her mind. Nancy was a feisty heroine who drew on her intelligence and independence and who faced danger because she was confident in her ability to conquer it. Perhaps all these traits are what have allowed Ms Drew to stand the test of time, as she is as popular today as she was back then. Despite my niece coming from a generation raised on Bratz ("Oh.My.God - I am like SO not going there" spoken in a dumb American accent for full effect..) and High School Musical I hope she will pick up at least one Nancy Drew novel during her childhood. And of course, she'll always have her Auntie Hazel's novel on the shelf. I always knew my book would have a gutsy, resourceful, intelligent female character in it (I actually ended up with two, but then it is about time the tables were turned) Bree McCready has all the insecurities that any 12 year old girl might have. She doesn't always feel like she fits in and despite being clever and good at swimming nobody ever seems to notice this. But she is strong and intelligent and during her adventures she discovers strengths and traits that she didn't know were there. She meets a new friend, Honey - an equally feisty, clever and funny girl who is simply not interested in fitting in with the norm.

So if all else fails at least I will have provided a couple of positive role models for my young niece to look up to as she grows up. Better that she aspires to be someone like Bree McCready than a doll who, if she were human would have to walk on all fours due to her proportions. Happy Birthday Barbie, you don't look a day over 20!

A crazy language

While playing a word game with my wee boy this morning it struck me just how bloomin' difficult the English language is to learn! He was thinking of words beginning with the letter R and when he said "wrong" I had to correct him. Of course he questioned why a word would have a letter at the beginning that "didn't even matter" but I just couldn't think of a simple way of explaining this rule. The problem is that the English language isn't simple. Why do we have words that contain letters you don't say? There are so many rules, inconsistencies and illogical spelling rules. If the plural of tooth is teeth then why is the plural of booth not beeth? If the plural of dog is dogs then why is the plural of mouse not mouses and why is the plural of sheep still sheep?! Why, if I buy a pair of trousers do I leave the shop with just one garment? Why is phonetic not spelled phonetically and why on earth is there an 's' in lisp?! Then there are all the words which are pronounced alike but differ in spelling and meaning - Ate/Eight, Ball/Bawl, Bread/Bread, Chews/Choose, Cell/Sell - See if you can think of some more - there are hundreds!

It struck me this morning while playing this simple word game just what a mountain there is for my son to climb before he masters the English language. In fact, do we ever master it? At the age of 37 and with an abundance of qualifications under my belt, I still make mistakes for heaven's sake! I once read that it takes, on average 7 years to learn the English language but I think this must refer to speaking it fluently, not writing it. There is a huge difference.

Language is like the air we breathe. We cannot escape from it, it's all around us, crucial to our survival and yet we take it for granted. It's not until you analyse its complexities that you appreciate just how difficult and complicated it is. I think this poem is great.

"When the English tongue we speak

Why is break not rhymed with freak?

Will you tell me why it's true

We say sew but likewise few?

And the maker of the verse

Cannot rhyme his horse with worse?

Beard is not the same as heard

Cord is different from word

Cow is cow but low is low

Shoe is never rhymed with foe

Think of hose, dose, and lose

And think of goose and yet with choose

Think of comb, tomb and bomb

Doll and roll or home and some

Since pay is rhymed with say

Why not paid with said I pray?

Think of blood, food and good

Mould is not pronounced like could

Wherefore done, but gone and lone -Is there any reason known?

To sum up all, it seems to me

Sound and letters don't agree"

With the rise in text messaging, a new form of English spelling has evolved, one littered with numbers and abbreviations - "R U OK?" "C U L8R" This new style of writing has sent shockwaves through teaching staff who worry that we will end up with an entire generation who may never learn to read and write properly. At the risk of sounding like an old biddy trying to be 'cool' I really like this new text language (although I simply can't bring myself to use it - far too stuck in my old ways I'm afraid). I think it's rebellious and creative and quite frankly very clever. This "generation text" resembles English spelling but replaces the silent, redundant or excessive letters with phonetic symbols. This in turn gives a truer reflection of English pronunciation. At least the reader always knows exactly what's been written! - no superfluous silent letters that "don't matter", no misleading spellings to trip us up, no ambiguous pronunciations. What I think makes it so clever is that the text messager has two bodies of knowledge in their head: the standard spelling surface forms, learnt at school and the underlying pronunciations of our language, which were learnt as a child. In order for the reader to understand what has been written, the writer must combine both of those knowledge bases in crafting the new spelling. Their text spelling resembles English spelling but replaces the silent, redundant, or excessive letters with phonetic symbols. Way to go, youth of today!

P.S Thanks Neil for this link:

http://quark.physics.uwo.ca/~harwood/humor13.txt

Wise words

I was chatting with an old friend, Dorothy the other day (she's 74) and I was telling her that whilst having my book accepted for publication has been a truly wonderful experience it can at times feel very scary. Success can rock your foundations, changing your perspective and turning your world upside down - especially if you have grown accustomed to failure and struggle. So many questions whirl around inside my head on a daily basis. Now I've accomplished my dream what's left for me? What if I don't feel satisfied or content once I've reached my goal. Do I deserve this success and what if I make lots of mistakes or let people down? There's the worry that I won't be able to sustain this level of hard work and the question of whether I will be able to cope with demands and being the centre of attention. I joked with Dorothy that the irony of this situation was that I always wanted to be a writer so that I could spend my life locked away in my wee cottage surrounded with my many cats living a reclusive life! I always visualised myself as one of the characters in "Bree McCready and the Half Heart Locket" - a rather eccentric wee woman with a shock of white hair and a bicycle with a basket at the front! I hadn't really considered that I might meet so many interesting and inspiring people along the way or that I might attend book signings or (heaven forbid) stand alone on a stage promoting my book. All these opportunities are incredible and I am so excited about what's ahead of me but yes, I admit I am absolutely terrified. Dorothy said something which struck a chord - "You can't be brave unless you're frightened" - and this is true. This whole adventure is new to me and there are times I can't believe all these great things are happening. But this has been good for me. It has pushed my into doing things I would never ordinarily have chosen to do. It has taken me out of my comfort zone, brought out the best in me and allowed me to spread my wings in a way I never thought possible. Sometimes we need a shove in the right direction. Of course there are always going to be people who are better than me and there will undoubtedly be some who hate what I've written. Yes, there will be times when I feel overwhelmed and there is always a chance that everything might self-destruct at any moment. But as Dorothy reminded me - what would it all have been about if I hadn't at least enjoyed the moment? What is life about if we can't relish the wonderful moments because we're so hung up on what might go wrong? Sometimes you have to move on no matter how terrifying that feels. In the words of Winston Churchill - "Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts"

Many moons ago

I came across a couple of old photographs while I was browsing through an album to help Caroline with a project for college. Apologies for the shocking outfits - although this was the fashion then (or maybe not..)

The first one was taken around 1982/83. I know this because the TV series FAME was big at the time and absolutely everybody had a Ra-Ra skirt. This shiny blue satin one was made by a family friend. My sister and I had matching ones and we wore them with legwarmers! We thought we were so cool!

The second photo was taken slightly earlier - around 1979/80 - the TV programme in the background is Swap Shop for anyone old enough to remember! Despite wearing brown corduroy dungarees and a knitted sweater I was very happy in this photo. I can remember it being taken and giggling when our cat Suzie kept chasing the pencil while I wrote. I often sat on the floor, leaning on a big book and scribbling down stories (this book was best for leaning on - the Guinness Book of Records - as it was really heavy). I don't remember what I was writing when this photo was taken but it was probably a story about a family of animals as this was my favourite subject at the time. It's nice to see that I'm more interested in what I'm writing than in what's on the telly and that I clearly enjoyed writing stories early on in life. Thanks to Caroline who snapped the originals and sent them through cyberspace to my laptop! Oh, and Happy Birthday to Beth who is as lovely today as she's ever been x

Speak Up! It's Oor Tongue!

I have just read an interesting article about Falkirk author and playwright Alan Bissett (Death of a Ladies' Man, Boyracers, The Incredible Adam Spark) and it got me thinking again about the importance of keeping Scots dialect alive. In the article Bissett talks about his visits to secondary schools where he meets young people who are surprised to find that writing can be 'relevant and fresh, not all about standing up and reading poems about mountains'. Is this not crucial if we are to encourage our young people to become creative and interested in literature? My memory of working in Craigmillar was that the majority of children were 'turned off' by reading - but looking back there were very few book that they could relate to - few characters who led a similar life to them and none who spoke in a language they understood. I have a brilliant book called "Identities: An Anthology of West of Scotland Poetry, Prose and Drama" which I've had for many years and which I have used often as a teaching tool during my years as a Community Educator. There is a wealth of material in this book which might appeal to anyone interested in Scots dialect in writing. I came across a lovely piece, written by William McIlvanney which revolves around a young working class boy and his experience of school (and a rather hideous teacher):

"What's wrong with your face, Docherty?"

"Skint ma nose, sur"

"How?"

Ah fell an' bumped ma heid in the sheuch, sur"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ah fell an' bumped ma heid in the sheuch, sur"

The blow is instant. His ears seem to enlarge, is muffled in numbness. But it's only the dread of tears that hurts.

"That, Docherty, is impertinence. You will translate, please, into the mother-tongue"

"I bumped my head, sir"

"Where? Where did you bump it?"

"In the gutter, sir"

"Not an inappropriate setting for you, if I may say so"

Later the class are asked to "translate" Scots words into English - lum (chimney), wabbit (tired), speugh (sparrow):

"One side of the paper was filled. He didn't start on the other side because he now wanted to write things that he couldn't find any English for - (breeks - troosers). When his mother was busy, she had said she was "saund-papered tae a whuppet" If his father had to give him a row but wasn't really angry, he said "Ah'll skelp yer bum wi' a tealeaf tae yer nose bluids"

He despaired of English. Suddenly with the desperation of a man trying to amputate his own infected arm, he savagely scored out all the English equivalents"

The children I worked with during my years as a nursery nurse and then as a community educator spoke broad Scots dialect in their community but were expected to drop that at the front step of the school and pick up a completely different code. It struck me when reading "Docherty" how incredibly difficult that must have been for them and how in some respects they were bi-lingual. I'll finish with a short excerpt from From Scenes Like These by Gordon Williams :

"Why teach kids that Burns was the great national poet and then tell you his old Scots words were dead common? What sounds better? - 'gie your face a dicht wi a clootie' or 'give your face a wipe with a cloth?' One was Scottish and natural and the other was a lot of toffee-nosed English"

The point that both these writers try to make is that there is something dangerous, or desperately wrong, about a system which forces children to unlearn or to give up the language they naturally talk. There is something highly refreshing about authors like Alan Bissett who write in their 'mother-tongue' and in doing so reach an entire generation who might otherwise never choose to pick up a book. Perhaps as writers and educators we need to focus more on the diversity of language that reflects the actual lives and experiences of young people and to challenge our own assumptions about the 'correct' way of speaking.

Blackbird Singing

I had a rather lengthy phone conversation with my editor, Graham today. We were going through the edited version of "Bree McCready and the Half-Heart Locket" finalising things so that we can move on to the next stage in publication. During our conversation we got side tracked for a moment and we started talking about the Welsh poet, R.S Thomas who we are both big fans of. Graham recited this beautiful poem to me and I loved it so much I thought it would be nice to share it with you.

"It seems wrong that out of this bird - black, bold, a suggestion of dark places about it,

there yet should come such rich music, as though the notes ’ore were changed to a rare metal

at one touch of that bright bill.
You have heard it often, alone at your desk in a green April, your mind drawn

away from its work by sweet disturbance of the mild evening outside your room.
A slow singer, but loading each phrase with history’s overtones, love, joy and grief

learned by his dark tribe in other orchards and passed on instinctively as they are now,

But fresh always with new tears"