Solitary research - how safe?

Dunkeld Cathedral, Perthshire

There are places I want to take my characters to. Saturday night pubs in unfamiliar towns, city centres in the wee small hours, late night bus stations. Remote, ruined, derelict sites, unlit back roads and dark, uneasy places. But I'm not always sure I want to venture to these locations myself - not alone.

Of course that's what imagination's for, and there's always vicarious research on the internet. But there are times when I want to find out for myself what a place would feel like on a character's skin. How their footsteps would echo. How the air would taste.

Kilchurn Castle, Loch Awe

What I really need is a research companion.

Researching alone in isolated locations didn't used to worry me. But I've become disappointingly cautious with age. When I was younger I often trekked out into the middle of nowhere by train or by bus or on foot - sometimes a combination of all three - happily and without a thought. Just me, my camera and a timetable. That was before I had a car, and before mobile phones. When I think about it now, I'm not at all sure it was a good idea.

Cup and Ring marks, Achnabreck

Nether Largie South Cairn, Kilmartin Glen

I travelled alone to all sorts of out of the way places - Roman forts in lonely woods, castle ruins, souterrains, cairns, stone circles. And it was fun. Even when I was scared. Perhaps for the very reason that I was scared. And I'm still convinced that the best way to get the sense of a place - to hear its ghosts whispering - is alone.

There were only two occasions when I wished I had someone with me.

One was a visit to Cairnpapple Hill - a prehistoric monument with a long and complex history. Used as a burial and ceremonial site from as early as 3000 BC, it features pits into which cremated human remains were placed, and a burial mound. At one time the site was surrounded by a henge of upright wooden posts. Basically there were a lot of strange goings on at Cairnpapple over a period of about 1600 years.

Whether I'd taken a wrong turn that day or misread the map I can't remember now, but having got off the bus on a quiet country road, I found myself on an unexpectedly long walk. Hopelessly lost, I trudged for almost 2 hours without seeing a fellow soul, under a fierce summer sky.

Cairnpapple Hill, West Lothian

Cairnpapple Hill sweltering in the sun

I found my way eventually, but by then I was feeling very far from home, and my mind was clouded, vision blackening in the heat.

And what a strange place was Cairnpapple Hill. It crackled with energy. The sun sweltered. Wasps tumbled in writhing balls through the grass. All in all, the atmosphere swarmed with unpleasantness.

If I'd had company, perhaps I would have had a different perception of it. I might not have travelled to such a bizarre and sinister Cairnpapple Hill that day. Who knows. It might have all looked very different if I'd at least worn a hat and stayed out of the sun!

The only other time I was unhappy was at Castlelaw Hill Fort. Again I got off the bus and walked. The day was unseasonably gloomy and overcast.

Castlelaw Iron Age Hll Fort, Pentland Hills, Lothian

It didn't seem so bad at first - quite pretty as you can see. But then I dared myself to go down into the souterrain. You might laugh at my horror - just remember I was alone, not a soul was in sight and I had hiked a distance from the nearest road. The hills were silent around me, sky lowering.

Inside Castlelaw souterrain

There were two things down in that souterrain that I was ridiculously terrified by - a column of mist that was slowly spiralling at the far end of the main chamber (aaargh!) and in a second dark chamber a circle of recently discarded beer cans. I stood my ground just long enough to take a few blurry photos - it was one of the scariest places I've ever been. Sadly I don't have a photograph of the swirling mist or the beer cans - I lost my nerve and fled.

On reflection, I imagine swirling mists must be commonplace in souterrains. Beer cans too. But I wasn't forewarned!

Looking back I'm in two minds about my solitary wanderings. I had a lot of fun. They're happy memories. But I wouldn't want my own daughter trekking off alone without a car or a mobile phone. I wouldn't want that at all. In fact even with a car and a phone.

So my question is how do you travel alone and so have a chance to hear the ghosts whispering -  happily scaring yourself witless - whilst staying safe from earthly dangers? I find I don't have the answer. It's a judgement call.

For my current research though I reckon I need a travelling companion - someone strapping to research those rowdy pubs with.

Anyone for the pub then? First round's on me.

Plot planning

Before I was a writer, I was a painter. And I was a painter who never sketched. Well, hardly ever. I envied people who did, but I was worried by that rush to commit an idea to the page. To throw it out there with such abandon. Why would I want to make preparatory sketches when I had the whole image sitting perfectly in my mind's eye anyway? I wanted to guard the clarity of my inner vision and save it, untouched, for the finished work.

Artists, eh? In retrospect it was most likely an anxiety issue.

Well as a writer I've finally had to learn how to sketch. After all, a novel is HUGE.  It's so big you can't even see it all at once, however far back you stand. You can't hold it all in your head. Just not possible.

When I started writing seven years ago, I muddled around giving my first novel space to grow. I couldn't have done anything else - I didn't know what I was doing. I let it find its own shape in its own time, unrushed. And then I pulled it together in the rewrites, by which time I'd learnt a lot more about the shape it needed to be. And about writing in general.

Starting a second novel feels very different. I actually have an idea of what I'm doing this time. I know how to write a synopsis (ooh, that's a painful learning curve) and writing one for my new plot immediately sorted out an issue that had been tripping me up. I hadn't been able to see what the problem was, but it turned out to be as simple as a location that didn't work.

Making a plot plan was even more helpful. I'd imagined that it would be a huge task, like solving a vast and fiendishly difficult sudoku. I thought it would take months of mind-bending calculations, scribbled notes and despair. Actually it turned out to be fun and very straightforward. It took me 2 weeks. And that was only because I was dawdling.

Everyone will have their own preferred method of making a plot plan. I decided to use sticky index markers. They're easy to reposition, and a convenient way to colour code POVs. I wrote my plot points on the markers and stuck them onto 4 A4 sheets of thin card. Where there were 3 or 4 key events in the same chapter, I placed them in a row.


Here's how the plot plan looked in progress.

(If you're interested, I have 55 chapters and expect each to be about 2,000 words long.)

It was immediately obvious that I was missing a character. There was a character-shaped hole. I'd have figured that out eventually somewhere down the line, but the plan made it visible straight away.

I also wrote a plot outline.

Of those three things - synopsis, plot plan and plot outline - I'd have to say that I found the plot plan by far the most useful. But each was invaluable and helped to clarify the others.

Will the finished novel be very different for having been planned out? You know I'm not so sure it will be. I think it'll arrive at much the same place, just a hundred times quicker. Well okay maybe it'll be a more handsome beast and have muscles in all the right places. I hope so.

You know what? Sketching's fun - it didn't hurt at all. My inner vision is intact and even enhanced. And I'm so relieved to not be trying to hold a whole novel in my head anymore.

Low tide

A view over the Cromarty Firth to the Black Isle this morning.

Frosty morning

The Visuals

Promoting your writing isn't like selling your house - you're not supposed to paint it magnolia and remove your personality. I know this. We all know this. We're trying to get ourselves noticed. But what's the best way to go about it? And just how much colour and personality is the right amount?

In the real world I'm a skulker in the shadows and if you haven't noticed me then I've achieved my goal. So trying to make my blog stand out is a big challenge.

As a trained artist you'd think I'd have the whole visual thing sussed out. Well yes and no. The thing is I'm a painter not a graphic designer and, contrary to what people assume, artists aren't general practitioners in all fields of art. Like doctors we tend to specialise. Trying to design my blog page I've felt like a dermatologist trying to remove an appendix. In an emergency I'll give it a go. I might even have some idea of what I'm doing. But I might kill the patient.

Here are a few of the things that I've learned so far:

1: You can't have too many photos.

This really is true. I doubted it. Now I'm a believer. Photos are now pending!

2: You need a very smiley author photo.

Smiley = confident professional.
Not smiley = unappealing, pretentious, slightly creepy.
Laughing = probably a genius.

Even friends have shuddered at the photograph on the About Me page of my website. Oops! I thought that was my friendly face. Someone needs to tell me a very funny joke and have a camera at the ready.

(Btw laughing and wearing a series of funny hats = mad as a box of frogs.)

3: Colour is good but not essential. More isn't always better.

Colour is an important tool but the challenge is to be visually interesting without being dazzling. Eye-popping colour and a cheap design can make even the best writing seem unprofessional.

4: Having a go is more important than getting it right first time.

Unless someone is setting your web pages up for you, you have no choice but to launch right in. There's no point in waiting until you know what you're doing, you'll have to surf that learning curve. Looking at other blogs is a great way to see what works and what doesn't. And, importantly, to see what other people writing in your genre are doing.

5: Paying for professional input may be worth every penny.

We all want to believe that the quality of our work will shine through regardless of poor presentation, but it probably won't and why should it have to?