Who else likes to listen to music when they write / study / read / work?

I know I do.

I’ve made the occasional and very random comment on my social media outlets about my musical choices to accompany my writing time, so I thought you might enjoy a wee post about them.

In most activities, I can enjoy pretty much any sort of background music. At work I can read reports and papers to the heaviest of rock, or the lightest of ballads; I’m not fussy. When it comes to my writing, however, I become particular. The music I listen to has to match a mood; sometimes my mood, sometimes the mood of the part of the book I am creating. The background music has to be somehow evocative of what I am trying to convey on paper (OK, not paper – Microsoft word, but you get the idea). If it is contrary, it is distracting. And as my family will tell you, when I’m writing, I cannot be distracted.

I wrote most of my first novel, The Gisburn Witch, to one album: If You Wait by London Grammar. To understand why that particular album worked so perfectly for me, it’s perhaps helpful to understand what was going on at the time I wrote that book. The creation of The Gisburn Witch was a long process which began early in 2014 – I remember sitting nervously in front of my laptop as I typed the first few chapters, feeling every bit the new writer who didn’t have a clue what she was doing. By spring 2014 it was popped neatly back on the shelf – not because I wasn’t enjoying myself, but because in Scotland we had a certain important referendum coming up and I had campaigning to do. Fast forward to Autumn 2014 – the referendum was over, ‘Yes’ hadn’t won and the nights were drawing in with Winter’s approach. It was against this backdrop that I did what felt right – I stuck my London Grammar album on, I picked up my writing again and a couple of months later I had finished. For those who don’t know it, If You Wait is a very peaceful, but also very melancholic album. At the time, it was a suitable soundtrack to my life, as well as fitting the tone of the novel.

As anyone following me on social media will know, my second novel, A Woman Named Sellers is almost complete and about to go into editing. So, what have I listened to second time round? Well, I have to say it’s been a bit more eclectic – I’m not sure what that says about either me or the book, but I have found that I’ve craved more variety in my background listening depending on what stage of the book I was writing at the time. Melancholic music has still played a huge role – I’ve really enjoyed listening to some of Ben Howard’s stuff, particularly The Burgh Island EP. I’ve also rediscovered my love of classical music, especially Mozart and Beethoven – this has worked especially well when I wrote scenes in palaces and grand houses (that’s all I’m saying – no spoilers here, I promise). I’ve also thrown some of my more angst-ridden/thought-provoking music into the mix – I found Alanis Morissette worked especially well here.

Tonight I finished writing chapter 32 which, to all intents and purposes, is the final chapter (of the first draft, anyway). I wrote it whilst listening to Trans Siberian Orchestra’s Requiem the Fifth.

You’ll have to wait until the book comes out to see whether the ending is as dramatic as the music suggests.

“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction,” wrote Virginia Woolf in her extended essay of a similar title, A Room of One’s Own.

If I had to pick one quote which sticks with me as a writer, then it is this. A Room of One’s Own is widely regarded as a feminist text, and indeed, the crux of Woolf’s argument is one based on observations about the different opportunities afforded to men and women, and the impact of this upon literary tradition. Virginia Woolf lived in the early twentieth century, a period regularly hailed by historians as a time of great change for women. Removed from the domestic sphere by the necessities of war, de-corseted and delivered of the vote (albeit not universally), by the time Woolf published her essay in 1929, the lot of women seemed much improved.

Nonetheless, Woolf’s words express a concern about the place of women in literature; an awareness that a lack of financial independence teamed with lack of access to education had prevented women from taking a space in the literary sphere. For me, Woolf’s argument is worth more than casual consideration. Just imagine for a moment how different literature, and indeed history, might have been if more women had been afforded the opportunity to pick up their quill and ink, to record their experiences, to write their own stories.

Thankfully, nowadays I don’t think Woolf’s argument stands up so starkly in terms of gender. But it does still apply in some quarters. The stereotype of the impoverished creative might not find such literal application now, but nonetheless, many writers – male and female – find that they cannot live by their words alone. The technological age might have ushered in a time when it is easier than ever to publish your own work, but that doesn’t mean it is any easier to make money from it. Indeed, the self-published author is a small fish in an infinite ocean of writers, all trying to get their work noticed, bought and read. It’s as tough a market as it ever was, if not tougher.  As Oscar Wilde so wittily put it: “Genius is born, not paid.”

My favourite aspect of Woolf’s words, however, is the consideration she gives to the space required in which to write. Her discussion of the space to write has a definite feminist slant, tied up as it is with her consideration of women’s space in literary history, yet her arguments can have a wider application. She refers to ‘the room’, a term which is both literal and figurative and which, for me, transcends both time and gender. Every writer of every generation has had their own set of challenges when it comes to establishing the writing space. Where is quiet, or if it suits you better, where is noisy? Where can I find space to think, to reflect, to create? Some find their space at the kitchen table, or in a dedicated study, or in an armchair, or in a cafe. Others find theirs in the more unusual places, such as Roald Dahl, who found his in a traditional Romani wagon parked in his garden!

I find that I do my best thinking when washing the dishes (what would Woolf make of that, I wonder?) or on the treadmill in the gym. I do my best writing in my house, but where I sit depends on both my mood and the whereabouts of my lovely but noisy children! My space to write is governed by pragmatic, usually family considerations – if my kids fancy an hour at the soft play on a Sunday afternoon then so be it, my laptop comes too. As a twenty-first century woman, thankfully my space is not likely to be disrupted by the march of patriarchy. However, I can’t guarantee it won’t be interrupted by the phrase ‘Mummy, can you…?’. But of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way!

As the end of 2015 approaches, it seems timely to reflect on the year’s events and the lessons learned to take forward into 2016. After all, it is the festive season; a time to spend with family, to catch up with friends, to drink just a few too many sherries and snowballs (amongst other things). It is also a good time to stop and think about everything I have achieved so far on this ever-so-slightly-surreal-and-crazy-journey, and perhaps just as importantly, those elusive matters which either continue to challenge me, or remain outside of my grasp altogether.

Undoubtedly, my biggest achievement was publishing my first novel. Months later, I still feel super proud when I see its front cover shining from my bookshelf. It was a pleasure to research and to craft; it was a labour of love. Indeed, I enjoyed it so much, I’m doing it all over again!! Writing and publishing a book was a goal I set for myself a couple of years ago, and to have achieved it is still immensely satisfying. In addition, it is equally wonderful to read or hear great feedback about my book – so many people have told me that they enjoyed it, either verbally or by leaving me a nice review on Goodreads, Amazon etc. For a writer, I don’t think there is anything better than that.

Inevitably, there have been less positive moments. The first third of 2015 I focussed very hard on trying to muster some agent/publisher interest in my book. Now, I will say that I had no illusions of success when doing this. I knew it would be tough, that my chances of getting my book ‘picked up’ in the traditional sense were probably about as good as the odds of winning this week’s lotto. Nonetheless, I  researched agencies and picked out those whose interests matched my novel, worked hard on my pitches, and jumped through all the various format hoops required to get my work to be merely glanced at. And the result was…a handful of rejection letters, some polite and considerate, others sloppy – in my opinion, phrases such as ‘thanks but I think I’ll pass’ don’t belong in a professional rejection letter, but maybe that’s just me. And those were the ones who replied – quite a number of others didn’t even bother.

But do you know what, I published my book anyway. The beauty of this modern age of self-publishing is that agents and publishers no longer get to decide what work sees the light of day and what is doomed to linger on the proverbial dusty shelf. Self-publishing means you get to circumvent that entire process, that you are empowered to put your own work out there (with the potential for increased royalties per sale, I might add). So, next time, when it comes to publishing book two, I’m skipping those well-crafted pitches, those polite but persuasive pleas for consideration. This is my work; I’ll take control of it.

Of course, empowerment is all well and good, but the downside to self-publishing is that you don’t have a grand machine behind you to do the marketing. This is something which continues to challenge me, and which I am aware I will need to become more creative about as I head towards publishing my second novel. It’s great that you can put your own work out there, but how do you get people to know about it? I’ll be honest; I’m pretty useless at self-promotion and I know it’s something I need to work on. But on the bright side I’ve also learnt a lot this year, some of which I’ve put into practice through Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads giveaways, other things I still need to work on, such as using my blog more effectively. I’ll get there in the end, I’m sure.

One thing is for certain – 2016 will see the release of my second book, the sequel to The Gisburn Witch. I will see you all along the road. Best wishes for 2016.