Helen Glynn Jones

Wednesday Wander – A Galaxy Far, Far Away

Or Melbourne. Which is also far, far away from where I’m sitting, and where this (slightly embarassing) photo was taken, several years ago.

To be honest, it’s not the best photo of me, but then I never really like myself in photos. It is, however, testament to the fact that, even though the prequels were eye-bleedingly bad, my love for the original three Star Wars films never died. I saw them all in the cinema when I was a child, and can still remember the excitement and wonder of each new film.

The photo was taken at Melbourne Fantasy & Sci-Fi Con, the one and only time I’ve ever been to one of these events (though I think I’ll go again one day). It was a great day out, minor stars of film and TV wandering about, signing photos and giving talks. Twilight was big at the time, and there was a Volturi and a werewolf present, if I remember right. My friend and I wandered among the stalls, giggled our way through part of a Superman vs Batman cartoon (before realising that, to many people there, it was deadly serious) and took photos, including the one above.

So in the spirit of my Wednesday Wander, here is a photo of Melbourne as well, just along the river from where the Convention took place. But we will leave Melbourne for now. Leave its eucalypt-scented river walks, Victorian buildings, modern art and excellent coffee.

For today I am going to see The Force Awakens, and I have a cinema to get to, and a childhood fantasy to relive.

See you on the other side 🙂

Pictures In The Clouds

It’s a blustery, blowy sort of day here, grey clouds scudding across a silvery sky. Rain is expected later, though I’d much prefer snow. It’s the kind of day when treetops swirl and clouds create shapes, leaves and litter dancing along damp pavements. Much like another winter day, when I saw a dragon in the sky…

This is the post I wrote at the time. Wonder what I’ll see in the clouds today?

The other week I saw a dragon in the sky.

Outstretched wings, a long curving neck, all gleaming golden beauty.

‘Do I need to build a windlance?’ I thought.

And then, as I struggled with cold fingers to get my phone unlocked, the dragon drifted and changed, the sky taking him away.

But I think, perhaps, I caught him. No black arrow required.

🙂

Also, has anyone else had trouble with WordPress comments? I tried to comment on a few blogs last night, but the comments stubbornly refused to appear when I pressed ‘Post Comment.’ Haven’t tried yet today, so I hope it’s fixed.

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

Big Magic

I’ve finished reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic. Literally – I just finished reading it a few minutes ago.

It’s the first day of the school holidays, the child still asleep, the husband gone to work and so I had some precious time to finally, finally address the pile of ‘to read’ books sitting next to my bed. I added the luxury of tea and toast brought up to bed, plus an extra pillow behind my head, and settled in to read the last few chapters.

I have been reading the book for a while – I purchased it on our recent trip to the Canada and US West Coast, but the pace of the vacation was such that I didn’t get as much time to read as I had thought. Then when we came back life took over as it does, and so reading time was pushed to the bottom of the list.

However, Big Magic had already started to resonate with me. I’d recommended it to several people already, even though I hadn’t finished it, including Lucy over at Blondewritemore. I’d had several ‘wow’ moments, when the words I was reading seemed to echo and validate my own thoughts about the creative process, especially the idea of creating because it’s what you do, not for any desired end result. Just do the work and get it out there. Let it go.

I also believed in the idea of Big Magic, that ideas come from somewhere ‘beyond.’ It’s something I’ve always believed, that the stories coming to me were born somewhere else, just waiting for me to unwrap their layers and transfer them to the page.

And so now I am done. And I will say this: read this book. Whether you are a writer, an artist, a musician, a computer programmer, an avid gardener, a trainspotter, whatever. If you have an interest in your life, or if you are seeking the pathway to find what interests you, this book may well change your perspective and set you free to pursue what it is that makes you tick.

Big Magic indeed.

A Cautionary Tale – My Encounter With A Vanity Publisher

This was a post I ran a little over a year ago, and it’s been on my mind of late. I’ve seen several other bloggers writing about scams targeting authors, plus The Society Of Authors recently published an article about how the publishing industry is so heavily weighted towards publishers making a profit, rather than writers. I know Amazon isn’t perfect, but as a platform that’s allowed me to share my work with people all around the world, and, most importantly, keep writing, I think it can’t be beat.

So a cautionary tale for a Friday – have any of you out there had similar experiences?

I’ve been thinking about this post for a little while, unsure whether or not to share it, but then decided I had to. The spirit of this blog is that it’s my journey to publication, lessons learned, paths taken, decisions made. And so here it is…

A little while ago I was offered a publishing contract for Oak and Mist.

Woo hoo, right? Champagne for everyone!

Well, not so much. I had seen this publisher mentioned on a few blogs and websites as one who took unsolicited submissions (and, more importantly, took fantasy submissions, for which there is a much smaller market in publishers and agents). So I sent my book to them and, about a month later, received a request for a full manuscript. So far, so good. About a month after that something, I don’t know what, spurred me to do a little more online research into the publisher. And what I found was a shock. They were a vanity publisher (you know I hate that term but for the purposes of this post it will have to do) who approached first time authors with what they called a ‘contribution scheme’ contract. So, they would publish my book, but I would have to contribute up front to the costs of doing so. Red flag number one. I was pretty gutted, but worked through it and in some ways they did me a favour, for it cemented my decision to self publish instead of waiting any longer.

About a week later a big fat envelope from the publisher plopped through onto my doormat. I picked it up, then went to the kitchen and made myself a big greasy sandwich and a cup of tea (comfort food), before taking the lot up to my office (spare room) and sitting down to read. Luckily I was prepared, for on the surface this was a very exciting envelope to receive. ‘Publishing Contract’ said the black letters on the glossy covers of two official looking documents. A nice cover letter cited their ‘excitement to be working with me’ and their ‘faith in my ability as an author.’ A second insert listed a whole bunch of different ways in which a book could be marketed, but then ended by stating this wasn’t necessarily what they were going to do with my book. Red flag number two.

So I took my glossy gleaming contract and flipped it open, taking a bite of my sandwich to fortify me as I read on. Interesting. According to the contract:

The Publisher could amend or edit my book whenever they wanted and how they saw fit
They had the final decision on the look of the book
Other than ten author copies for me and five sent to university libraries, there was no mention of how many other copies they planned to print in the first run
They could decide at any time that my book ‘no longer warranted publication’ and could then cease to print or market it (so after the first fifteen copies, if they wanted to)
They would market the book by any means at their disposal (very vague) but could not be held responsible if no bookstores wanted to order it
If they failed to pay me my royalties on time I ‘had the right’ to notify them of this in writing – no other penalty was mentioned
They wanted first refusal on my next two books

Ding ding ding! Red flags everywhere! It was like a Communist Party parade at this point, but the kicker, the real icing on the cake of this contract, was that I could receive all this jammy goodness for the princely sum of £2500, my so called ‘contribution’ to the scheme.

Um, no thanks.

If I’m going to spend £2500 to publish my book, then I’ll spend it myself, designing a cover I like, editing the book to my satisfaction and marketing it the way I want to, while retaining the rights and a much healthier slice of the royalties. And I’m sure I could do all that for a lot less than £2500, to be honest. But I can see how for some people this offer would be very enticing, the language of the contract and accompanying letter written in such a way that on first glance it hides the fact that the deal is so heavily weighted in favour of the publisher.

A few months ago I attended an agent workshop at Bloomsbury. It was a great day, I learnt a great deal and met some wonderful people. One thing I do remember is sitting next to a well known agent as she told the room that, often, publishers don’t make back their advances. They make their money on the bestsellers, the books that do well, then offset these other losses against that. But they do what they do because they believe in the book, they believe in the writer and they are willing to put their money where their mouth is in a speculative business. And that’s the sort of publisher I’d like to work with. One who’s willing to back me and my work all the way. And at the moment that’s me, though I live in hope.

So the lesson for me was to dig deeper, do more research. My problem is not with their offer, it is in the way it was presented, their website making no mention of the fact that this was how they operated, so I wasted time and energy submitting and waiting for a response. I’m not bitter about it, nor am I angry. It is what it is and the choice was with me as to whether I chose to sign with these people who, after all, are in the business of making money. I chose not to, because I want better for myself and better for my book. So I sent them an email, politely declining their offer and they sent me one back, very nice, wishing me every success with my publishing. So I will take their good wishes and move forward, a little bit wiser (I hope) about it all.

Thursday Doors – Barcelona

I’m really enjoying the Thursday Doors photo challenge and have found, as I’ve looked through my photos, that I seem to have a ‘thing’ for doors, as I photograph so many of them. This week’s door is another beauty from Barcelona, but whereas my previous Spanish door was an example of Gaudi’s genius, this one is a more traditional style of Art Nouveau.

Isn’t it gorgeous? I do think the shopping trolley with pink bag adds a prosaic touch, and is also a sign that some lucky person gets to live here and experience this wonderful passage and doorway every day.

If you’d like to see more Thursday doors or add your own, visit Norm 2.0 and click the links – there’s a whole world of doors to be opened.

Wednesday Wander – St Albans Cathedral

I haven’t wandered too far today. I live close to the ancient city of St Albans, and a recent visit to the cathedral had me considering what it had once been like.

The cathedral itself is mainly Norman, but is built from the bricks of Roman Verulamiam, once one of the most important Roman cities in the UK and the place where St Alban met his martyred end. I wonder how it must have been for the Normans to wander the ruins, nearly a thousand years old at the time, and whether they looked at the ancient walls with any curiosity beyond a source of building materials.

St Albans has a long history, being a tribal settlement before the Romans came, then growing into a city of such importance that it was sacked and burned by Boudicca of the Iceni, on her way to Londinium. Much of the Roman city still remains unexcavated, though there are bits and pieces to be seen, including a section of the old city wall and a wonderful mosaic floor with hypocaust heating, unearthed in the local park and left in situ.

The Norman cathedral was part of a prosperous abbey until the dissolution, after which time it fell into such disrepair that there was talk, in the eighteenth century, of having it demolished and replaced with a smaller church. It was saved, thank goodness, and eventually restored.

Today you can visit the cathedral grounds and walk the circuit inside, under soaring arches and painted ceilings. There is even a bit of St Alban there, enshrined, though it is a fairly recent acquisition, and the centuries old graffiti carved into the stone pillars is well worth seeing.

The cathedral still holds regular services, and has an excellent gift shop and cafe. It also hosts a well-known Christmas Market every year, while the streets of St Albans bustle with shoppers just a few metres away.

And yet, when mist falls over the hill and the land is deserted, it is possible to just glimpse the ghosts of St Albans’ Roman past, built into the very walls.

Thank you for joining me on another Wednesday Wander – see you next week 🙂

Tangles

Today I am trapped in a thorny tangle of structure, as I pull apart the first few chapters of Hills and Valleys in an attempt to get them into some sort of order. The book is written, the plot set, and I have a (self-imposed) deadline to get the MS to my editor. All sorted, right? Yes, except for the fact that I cannot get the first few chapters to read as I would wish, hence the de-tangling exercise.

Plus there is a tumble of ironing to be done, a plethora of presents to be wrapped and the myriad other responsibilities that make up my day. So this blog post will be short, yet (hopefully) still sweet. In an attempt to deflect you from my literary shortcomings, may I lead you to a few other places in the blogosphere, all of whom are offering some festive goodness? In the meanwhile I shall shuffle papers and mainline spiced almonds in an attempt to find order.

Ali Isaac is weaving legend and history to tell us about the Five Sacred Evergreens of Christmas

Mick Canning is sharing a Christmas story with a twist 😉

Sally Cronin’s Christmas Grotto is full of all kinds of books and gifts,

Hugh over at Hugh’s Views and News is having a charity Christmas Tree Topper Challenge

Marjorie at Kyrosmagica has found her Christmas spirit while working in retail

And Sue over at The Daily Echo has a post (via Barb Taub) about completely impractical gifts for writers

So there you go. Happy Tuesday all! I’ll see you tomorrow for my Wednesday Wander.

Hugh’s Photo Challenge: Week 8 – Charity Christmas Tree Topper Challenge

Hugh over at Hugh’s Views and News is always good for a photography challenge. However, this week’s challenge happens to be for a very good cause as well. For every Christmas Tree Topper posted in blogland between now and January 5, 2016, Hugh will be donating £1 to The Dog’s Trust (to a maximum of £250).

I couldn’t resist adding my own Tree Top to the list, and here it is:

As you can see, the top of my tree features a rather glam-rock style plastic star, as well as Fluffy the Angel, who we’ve had since the gorgeous child was very small. The tree itself is about ten years old, and was a $29 special from Kmart, if I recall correctly. I refer to it as ‘the Charlie Brown tree’, because it reminds me of the Peanuts Christmas Special where the kids go to get a tree, but the only one left is small and threadbare. However, when they dress it with decorations, it looks beautiful. That’s what our tree is like as well, although this year it is shedding rather more fake pine needles than usual, making me think it might be coming to the end of its life.

If you’re interested in seeing more Tree Tops, head over to Hugh’s blog. Or add one of your own!

Fragments

Words fly away. At least, that’s how it feels once I get them on the page. Until then they bounce around in my head, solid fully-formed sentences waiting to be let out. I walk home with them, go out with them, wake up with them – I have no control over when they arrive. All I can do is turn them over again and again, placating them until I can get to a place where they can be set free. Once written, they dissipate, gossamer, ethereal, and I cannot truly recall them again. Only by reading am I reminded.

I’ve been reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic, and in one section she talks about how it feels when you get an idea. She references a poet, Ruth Stone, who said that she could feel the ideas coming towards her, galloping across the fields, and she had to be ready to catch them and write them down. Quite magical, really. And that’s how these sentences feel when they come to me – captured ideas that I have to write down and set loose again, like unruly children bouncing around, knocking at the doors of my mind and demanding to go outside.

Another favourite author of mine is the late great Douglas Adams. His posthumous release, The Salmon Of Doubt, is a collection of writing collated from his notes over the years, including an unfinished Dirk Gently novel. Some are excellent, especially his account of two dogs he used to meet on his daily walks. Many of them are fragments. Ideas that come and demand to be written down. I have a folder of them myself – I imagine most writers do. Partially finished stories, some still holding the magic potential to grow and become fully fledged, other just bits and thoughts and dreams. All of them have one thing in common – they demanded to be written.

This blog, also, is a collection of fragments. And this is today’s.

Thursday Doors – Number 28, Old Town

This week’s door is another one close to home. It’s the entrance to a building in our Old Town, which dates back to the 1500s. As you can see by the date, this door is a little newer, though with design nods to an earlier age. 1902 places it at the height of the Art Nouveau period, typified in the tree decoration above the door. I absolutely love it.

While much of our old town consists of shops, restaurants and residential homes, this place is a bit of a mystery. The ground floor seems closed up, silhouettes of large cabinets just visible through the darkened window. Up above, tattered curtains hang behind dilapidated wooden framed windows, while a large upper conservatory at the rear, just visible from the park behind, hints that it may have once been an artist’s residence.

So the mystery of Number 28 remains. Perhaps one day I’ll find out who lives/lived there – some more research is in order, I think.

For more Thursday Doors, visit Norm 2.0 and have a browse, or add a door yourself!

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