Girls who read

A brilliant spoken word performance on the love of girls who read from Mark Grist.

By Kim Curran with No comments

Women of the future

When I was first invited to visit my old school, Gumley House, to talk about Women of the Future, I thought that we might be discussing jet packs and laser bras. 

But I quickly found out that “Women of the future” was a creative writing project the girls had recently completed. 

The aim of the project was: 

To enable Year 8 and Year 12 students to think about what it means to be a young woman growing up today, and to encourage them to use their personal experiences as inspiration for their creative writing. Through sharing common experiences and listening to advice from other girls, the course was an opportunity to think about the women who have inspired them and why, and to think about the kind of women they hoped to be.

As part of project, the girls from year 8 and year 12 wrote letters to their past selves, their present selves and their future selves. And these letters were published in a book. I was there to present each of the girls with a copy of the book, and then say a few words about my journey from school girl dreaming of being a writer to actually seeing that dream come true. I guess I was there as a potential ‘future self’. 

You can read what I had to say here. But to be honest, what I said didn’t come close to what I heard. Because after I did my bit, coughing all the way through, each of the girls came up and read out one of their letters.

The letters to their past and future selves were a powerful mix of touching, amusing and above all deeply insightful. 

I felt enormously privileged, especially as a writer for young adults, to have the chance to listen to a room of teenage girls share their hopes and dreams, their worries and fears. 

Their letters to their 10-year-old selves were filled with genuine concern and wise advice. There was a clear message: no matter how hard it feels right now, you’re going to get through it. And not to worry. 

To their future selves, the letters were pleas never to forget the things that mattered to them now, to follow their dreams and not sell out. 

After the readings, I caught up with the girls and chatted quickly about writing, sharing our approaches and techniques – and hopefully I’ll be going back to continue those conversations, as they could have gone on all night. I also spoke with my old headmistress, Sister Brenda, who hasn't aged a day, and other members of staff. And I was deeply touched by their genuine enthusiasm and happiness for me.

I left with a glowing feeling of energy and positivity. As one 16-year-old girl wrote, “the future seems so far away and anything seems possible.”

I wonder what would have happened if I’ve done a project like this when I was their age. Would I have spent 15 years as a copywriter, chasing the wrong dream? Would I have fought harder to become an author sooner? Who knows. But what I do know is this, no matter how old we are, we need to take time every now and then to really look at our lives as ask ourselves what would our teenage self think of the choices we’ve made. 

The evening couldn't have come at a better time for me. Recently, I've been so caught up in the 'business' of writing – fretting about reviews and whether anyone will actually buy my book – that I lost sight of why I was doing it. And this evening reminded me why.

It’s been a rocky old road, but today, as an author with my first book coming out this year, I reckon the teenage Kim would be pretty happy to know what the future has to hold. 

By Kim Curran with 2 comments

Women of the future – my speech

Here is the speech I gave at my old school, to celebrate the Women of The Future creative writing project:  

First off, thank you. It’s such an honour to be here, and I’m really looking forward to hearing you read from the amazing book you’ve created.

It’s strange, because while we’re all here to talk about women of the future, standing here, looking at all of you, I feel very much as though I’ve stepped into the past. It really doesn’t feel so long ago I was sat where you are right now, dreaming of what I wanted to be when I left Gumley.

And my greatest dream when I was your age was to be a writer. But, as I got older, I stopped believing that dream would ever come true. So, after school and university, I did the sensible thing. I got a job. And I got a job as a copywriter – which is someone who writes adverts. So there I was. Just five years on from leaving Gumley and I was being paid to write. OK, so I was writing about printers and forklift trucks and whatever my clients wanted me to write about, but I was still getting paid to write. And that was the dream, wasn’t it?

Fast forward another ten years I had an even better job where I got paid really good money to write about cool stuff like mobile phones and computer games. I was married to an amazing man. I had a beautiful flat. I’d travelled the world. I was living the dream. But you know what? I couldn’t see it. Because I was STILL thinking about the future. About the promotion at work. The bigger house. The smaller bum. Still focussing on tomorrow.

Then something happened. A woman I knew, a doctor, with an amazing future ahead of her, was tragically killed on her honeymoon. Just like that all her dreams had been stolen from her. Her bright future snuffed out.

And it was a wake up call for me. To stop dreaming about the future and to start making it happen.

So, I asked myself what was it I really wanted to do with my life and what had I wanted to be when I was a teenager. And it came back to me. I wanted to be an writer. So, I gave up my job, went freelance, and sat down and started to write. Because really that’s all that being a writer is. It’s sitting in a chair and writing. And rewriting. And writing some more.

It wasn’t easy. I won’t say it was. I got lots of knock backs. As some of you know, I wrote one book and it was rejected and I wanted to give up. But I didn’t. And that’s the other thing that defines being a writer. It’s not stopping. Even when you are knocked back by everyone, it’s dusting yourself off and writing on.

And so here I am. Twenty years after leaving Gumley, an author with my first book coming out in September and another one coming next year. I write science fiction, which a lot of the time is pretending to write about the future when you’re really writing about today. Like The Hunger Games or The Knife of Never Letting Go. And I highly recommend you check out books by a writer called Lauren Beukes, a true woman of the future, because her books, Moxyland and Zoo City, present us with disturbing visions of the future, but they’re really powerful statements about our present.

Like your letters to your future selves, they’re a projection of who you are now. Of your hopes and dreams. Which is what makes them so important and so precious. And that’s why we can’t stop thinking about or dreaming about or writing about the future.

But what I want to say to you today, and what I wish I could go back and say to my teenage self, is this: try not to get so caught up dreaming about tomorrow that you forget to live now. Try, and I know it’s hard, but try not to worry too much about what kind of woman you’re going to be in the future. Instead, ask yourself what kind of woman do you want to be today?

Because if you get that right, if you make the right choices today, the future will take care of itself.

By Kim Curran with 1 comment

EasterCon

So, I’m super late in getting this blog post done. Blame work, a stinking cold, and a sequel that needs to be written. But finally, here is my take on EasterCon. Warning, I’ve made up for being late by  being ridiculously long winded!

This year was not only my first ever EasterCon, it was also my first ever convention. I walked into the Radisson Edwardian, Heathrow, at 12pm on the Friday, knowing no one and seriously thinking about turning around and going straight home, and I left on the Monday afternoon, having made some (I hope) friends for life.

In just three days I went from wondering what the hell I was doing there, to eagerly looking forward to the next convention where I could do it all again.

I guess my initial nerves had a lot to do with the panel I was doing on the Friday. It was called "Before Watchmen" and we were to discuss the controversial Watchmen prequels and whether they should be made or not.

I’m still not exactly sure why I ended up on the panel. And I’m pretty sure most of the people in the room were wondering the same thing. But hey, I was there. I’d done my preparation. I knew the comic. I'd read all the articles floating around. But when it came to actually making any points… well, I found myself saying “Hey, guys, we don’t live in an ideal world," a lot and coming off like a total hippy. Perhaps the glass of wine to steady my nerves hadn’t been a good idea. Nevertheless, I survived. Although at times it felt like I wasn’t going to. But I learned a lot. Namely, never to do another panel again!

 

The Fear over I was free to relax and start to actually enjoy the weekend. And boy did I.

Adam Christopher, fellow Before Watchmen panelist, Angry Robot author, and all round great guy, and I hit the bar to have a well-deserved drink. We were soon joined by Laura Lam, my Strange Chemistry book sister. Laura was staying with me over the duration of the weekend, but she’d arrived late as she’d been off having lunch with her agent. I know! Get her. And with Laura was Amanda Rutter – my editor.

This was the first time we'd met. In my previous dealings with Amanda while editing SHIFT I’d already gained a huge amount of respect for her. But it wasn’t till I met her in person I realised just how warm and generous Amanda is. She has a kind of aura about her that makes you feel that everything is going to be all right. (Shame she hadn’t been there for my panel.)

And so the weekend went. Meeting new people who quickly felt like old friends.

I went to panels on Science Fiction in the Mainstream, How Not to Suppress Women’s Writing and Dystopia in YA. And the overall impression I took away from all of those panels was one of optimism. Yes, scifi has been marginalised. Of course women's writing has been suppressed. And sure kids are consuming dystopias because of the mess they’re living through. But there’s hope.

Perhaps that sense came from being surrounded by Science Fiction fans, whose nature has always been to look forward. Whatever it was, there was a definite feeling that the future was ours for the taking.

A shame then that that feeling of positivity, which for me ran through the whole convention, was somewhat stymied by the BSFA ceremony. I won’t go into that here as I feel it’s all been dealt with. But I’ll just say, next time, ditch the PowerPoint.

I also was privileged to hear Tom Pollock and Adam Christopher read from their new books. They both had very different styles, but they both knocked it out of the park in terms of their reading. And I can’t wait to read their books.

And of course, there was George.

George RR Martin to his fans. He was the guest of honour at the convention. As a huge fan of his books, I practically squealed every time he walked past me. I went to hear his guest talk, where he charmed us all with his down-to-earth stories about the vagaries of fame and horse penises. After his talk, Laura, bless her, dragged me over to him and introduced us. That girl is smooth. She mentioned how we were both about to be published and how his talk had been a great inspiration. We flashed our name badges and he said he’d remember them. And I thought my weekend had been made.

Little did I know that later in the evening he would come and sit next to me and chat. We talked about his career, previous conventions he’d been to, and his plans to steal the Crown Jewels at his upcoming party at the Tower of London. He even leant on my arm. I’ve not washed it since.

But really, while chatting with George (my new bff) was awesome, it came second to the time I got to spend with all the other amazing writers (aspiring and otherwise), editors, industry pros and great people I met over that weekend.

A huge thank you to the organisers, especially Gaspode and Liz Batty, for roping me in to coming in the first place. And a special shout out to:

Laura Lam, Adam Christopher, Amanda Rutter, Lee Harris, Anne Lyle, TomPollock, Laure Eve, Nick Harkaway, Jon Weir, Adrian Faulkner, Stephen Aryan, Natasha Tanczos, Amy McCulloch, Emma Newman, AdeleKirby, Gav Pugh, Tom Hunter, and all you other lovely people whose names I will remember the second I hit publish. 

And of course, George.

Should you ever need any inspiration for your next Game of Thrones book, just look me up.

By Kim Curran with 2 comments

Editing.

 

So, I recently sent back my edited manuscript, ready to go off to be typeset. And here’s the thing. I love editing. Who knew? Certainly not me. I thought I hated editing. In fact, I used to say that all the time. ‘Argh! Editing sucks!’ But what I’ve realised is this. I hate solo editing. I hate when it’s just you, going over and over and over the same piece of writing changing this line, moving that paragraph, trying to make it better, but probably only making it worse. That really does suck. But when I’m working with an editor, well, that’s a whole new kettle of shiny goodness. When I’m responding to someone else’s comments to fix issues I didn’t know where there (or probably really did know, but just didn’t want to see them) it’s really exciting. Fun even. Because you know that with each pass this thing you’ve created is just getting better and better. Especially when you’re working with an editor as smart and sympathetic as mine. Or a copy editor as insightful and detailed as the one I was lucky enough to have work on Shift.
 

I asked on Twitter were there any questions people would like me to answer in regards to my editing journey. The most common question was variations on “how much of a battle was it?” By which they meant, how many editorial comments did I disagree with. I can say with total honesty (and not just because my editor might just be reading this) that I agreed with every one. And not just all those embarrassing typos she spotted (I seem unable to spell wrist or jealousy) but all the structural stuff too. Every suggestion she made I acted on. Because I knew it was going to make the book stronger. The characters more believable. The emotions more powerful. And because I knew that all her suggestions were because she connected with the characters and the stories deeply.

There were, I will say, a couple of comments the copy editor made that I pushed back on. Mostly in the name of preserving character (yes, there probably wouldn’t be water in the font of an abandoned church, but having one of my characters slick back his hair using it pleased me). But again, when I said I didn’t want to make those changes, my editor had my back.

It could be I’m the least precious of writers. Being a copywriter for 15 years knocks that stuff right out of you, that’s for sure. I welcome comments and suggestions. I also don’t get too attached to certain phrases or "Prose Children" as one tweeter put it. My style is to pare everything back anyway. I feel if I draw too much attention to my writing, it’s getting in the way of the story. But that’s probably just me.

Another question I was asked was what is my crux word. The word I use over and over. And actually, I’ve yet to spot it. I know one of my characters dropped her head a lot and a few too many people punched the air. As for words, maybe ‘mumbled’ (which I spotted after doing a Find/Replace to capitalise the word Mum. And ended up capitalising every Mumble too!).

And as an aside, to see if there were patterns in the words I’d used, I created a word cloud of the whole book. It pleases me that Aubrey is the word that stands out the most. Pretty isn't it?

I’m a big believer in collaboration. I know that when you work on something alone it can be good. Great even. But when you get the best minds working together, that’s when magic happens. I’ve seen it time and time again in my day job coming up with ad campaigns. And I’ve just seen it happen for Shift.

By Kim Curran with 1 comment