Words From a Cave – Part 3

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La Ventana Cave, Puerto Rico

Here I am about to step out of the cave nearly 3 weeks after my hip replacement operation – without crutches!

Yesterday I took part in a beautiful performance of Mozart’s Requiem with the Coventry Spires Philharmonic Choir in Holy Trinity Church Coventry. I think that, together with a walk through the Coventry city streets, counts as a temporary exit from the cave!

I’ve also been doing plenty of reading and have just finished Phil Rickman’s A Crown of Lights, one of his excellent Merrily Watkins series of novels

I expect to be walking freely without use of crutches before the next blog post, so I’ll be back once again on topic for this blog –  which is, whatever has inspired me during the preceding week.

I’ve also received a very positive and encouraging report from a beta reader on my latest novel A Passionate Spirit; have made a few changes as a result of her feedback; and am now waiting to hear from a publisher who currently has the first few chapters and synopsis. So I feel as if this photo of the wonderful view from La Ventana Cave, Puerto Rico, is ideal for where I am right now. Thank you again for your encouragement, for your views and comments, and thanks also to new followers of this blog – I greatly appreciate you all!

Words From A Cave – Part 2

Mulu Caves Malaysia
Mulu Caves, Malaysia

Since last week’s post I’m starting to see the light flooding through into my cave. I’m moving around on my crutches (and sometimes without them.) I went to the Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter morning services at my church (St Mark’s Leamington Spa) and then later on Easter Sunday I was out at a local beauty spot, Burton Dasset Hills, near Banbury, enjoying the lovely views  and watching a white Scottie dog barking excitedly at two very indifferent and unimpressed sheep!

My novel, A Passionate Spirit, has been sent to a publisher and so this is a very opportune time for me to be taking a break.

I promised you the fruits of any creative thinking I manage to do. One thing I’ve learned is this: when you spend a significant amount of time in a cave, you stand to discover who your angels and demons are: because they’re all in there with you. I’ve identified 4 demons, the details of which I won’t reveal here, save for one: that is ‘the demon of compulsion to compare myself, unfavourably, with others’ – and in particular, other authors and their perceived success.  It’s good that I’ve identified and named these demons for that is the first stage to banishing them.

Of the angels, I can say that I’ve received one fruit of creative thinking; I’ve recognised  where my point of interest now lies, as an author: it’s actually the point of breakthrough. I’m interested in spiritual / paranormal / supernatural / otherworldly things breaking through into the real, solid, contemporary world. I’m interested in the crack – the clash of worlds and worldviews and different understandings of life / the universe and the way it operates – and most critically of all, how the people in this ordinary world react to and handle it.

A creative person , I realised, gets an idea and runs with it – and then, somewhere along the way, discovers something striking, surprising, unusual, a new angle – which gives the project an outstanding quality.

More insights from the cave next week – although I may then be walking out of it!

The Writer’s Journey

After being turned down by numerous publishers, he had decided to write for posterityGeorge Ade

It is a truth certainly acknowledged by the author of the above quote that many creative writers struggle for years, enduring perhaps decades in the wilderness of submissions and rejections, before their persistence finally pays off.

Most would-be authors, says Alison Baverstock in The Artists and Writers Yearbook, “are pessimistic optimists.”  And The Old Testament is full of stories of people who waited or fought seemingly in vain or wandered in wilderness for many years before God’s plan for them unfolded, and their gifts were used and they prospered.

Joseph, Moses, and Elijah come to mind.  Moses was 80 years old when he led the Children of Israel out of Egypt, and witnessed the parting of the Red Sea.  Elijah gave way to depression before God re-commissioned him.  Joseph languished forgotten in jail before his gift for interpreting dreams lifted him up again.

Fast forward a few thousand years to my chance meeting with a publisher (later to become one of London’s top literary agents) who took an interest in my writing.  He encouraged me to write my first novel.

A couple of years ago I attended an evening on Discernment, and an image was presented to us: “You can spend years knocking on doors.  Some doors lead to broom cupboards and some to elevator shafts.”

When I met this publisher, in the early stages of my writing career, I opened a door and it led into a lift.  I stepped in, and went up.  But it was a faith-operated lift.  It required me to have enough faith to press the button for the top floor.  I only had enough faith to press the button for Floor 3.  The doors opened, the demon of self-doubt stepped in, and pressed the button for the basement.  And down I went again, to the very bottom of the shaft.

So, as my writing life continued beyond the outer gates, rejections frequently came my way, and I read letters saying things like We read this with much amusement but in the end were not sufficiently drawn to the central idea and We found your style fluent and assured but it is not quite for us  and Although this is witty and well written… our fiction programme is so full that we are buying very few new titles unfortunately…. I wish you success in finding a less over-burdened publisher.

But I later discovered that, contrary to the feelings of rejected authors, when you actually meet editors in publishing houses, they’re very pleasant people.  The Mills and Boon editor I met in the Ladies at the Savoy in London, at the RNA Romantic Novel of the Year Award luncheon, was very nice.  And so was the Rights Director for the top agent I referred to earlier in this article, whom I met later in the dining room. She reminded me of a member of my babysitting circle. (This lady still rejected my novel when I sent it to her though, and subsequently left the agency and published a novel herself).

And so I continued to read letters saying, Due to the very strong market in this kind of literature your novel would not be viable for us to publishThis is too commercial for usI’m afraid this doesn’t quite fit with our current list.

Then I read Margaret Silf’s book Sacred Spaces, and found these words in her chapter on Crossing Places:

At this ‘burial plot’ of my experience, I am standing between two worlds – between the old, the known and understood, and the new beginning which still lies beyond the scope of my wildest imagining. I am standing in sacred space because it is on the very edge of the known that the infinite possibilities of the unknown begin to unfold.

She went on to say:

God stretched the rainbow across the heavens, so that we might never forget the promise that holds all creation in being.  This is the promise that life and joy are the permanent reality, like the blue of the sky, and that all the roadblocks we encounter are like the clouds – black and threatening perhaps, but never the final word.  Because the final word is always “Yes!”

 

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