How long does it take to write a book?

Posted on 31 December 2009 in Writing

As you may know I've been co-writing a book called Reclaiming The F Word: The New Feminist Movement (to be published by Zed Books in June 2010), with Kristin Aune.

I've been thinking about how long this book has taken. This is only my experience, but it has been going on for absolutely ages! I know that others have a much faster time of it.

Here's the timetable so far:

2001: Set up The F Word website.

Sometime in 2003 (I think): Kristin and I discuss writing a book together. Originally going to be a collection of third wave feminist writings, highlighting the new feminists that we saw active in the UK. Proposal was drafted, but didn't go ahead as we were both too busy.

2003-2007 Running The F Word

Jan 2007: Handed over The F Word to Jess McCabe. Now had more time to spend on book idea!

Feb 2007: Out of the blue, contacted by Margaret Hanbury agency asking if I'd be interested in writing a book. Weird coincidence, but a promising sign. (It amused Kristin that I am next to Katie Price in their listings!)

Mar-April 2007: Draft proposal, speak to various feminists about ideas for book to make sure we're on the right lines.

May 2007: Finish proposal, send to agent.

June-July 2007: Write first draft Chapter, send to agent. Sign contract with agent.

August - December 2007: Agent sent proposals to various publishers: get rejections

January-March 2008: Re-write proposal and new draft chapter in response to feedback received. Agent starts sending out again.

May 2008: Start working on questionnaire survey and taking it to events.

July 2008: Get interest from Zed Books.

September 2008: Sign contract with Zed Books. Work out writing plan with Kristin, and off we go.

June-September 2009: Take a career break to concentrate better on the book (and also do other stuff too). I'm very lucky to work for an NHS Trust which has great flexible working policies, and that I had enough savings to enable me to support myself during the break. Alongside writing, we also have to do data entry and coding for around 1265 survey responses, and analyse the data (with help from student Rose Holyoak). Meanwhile, Zed are developing the book cover and publicity material for 2010.

October 2009: Handed in first draft to Zed. Back to full-time work.

November 2009: Collapse and go on holiday. Rest a bit, wait for feedback from Editor and from expert peer reviewers.

December 2009: Re-writes of manuscript based on all feedback. Having to make lots of cuts as went over the word limit a bit. Meeting with Zed staff to discuss marketing and publicity - a bit overwhelming but they are all lovely and have lots of great ideas.

January - May 2010: Attending conferences, events etc, writing articles, developing website www.reclaimingthefword.net which will host some of the survey data.

June 2010: Estimated publishing date.

July 2010 -> Probably other events, conferences, journal articles etc.

If you're tired reading that, think how we feel - maybe in 2011 I'll finally give myself a break!

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Jill Magid, ‘Authority to Remove’ at Tate Modern

Posted on 10 September 2009 in Art

Today I happened to be at Tate Modern of the first day of Jill Magid's exhibition, Authority to Remove.

This is a very minimalist, sparse exhibition with little actually on show, but it is totally fascinating.

Magid was asked by the Dutch secret service in 2005 to develop an exhibition for their new building, as the Dutch government required part of the money to be spent on a new art installation.

She set out interviewing members of the secret service over a period of time, gradually developing art works and documenting the interviews in a manuscript which eventually became a sort of long, fascinating novel of her experiences that she obviously was very proud of and attached to. She became increasingly involved in 'The Organisation' to the extent of being vetted and undergoing some training in order to better understand the humanity of the individual people involved.

When her final piece was shown in 2008, agents confiscated some pieces of work after the exhibition had opened, and heavily redacted her manuscript which by then she had hoped to publish as her first novel, called Becoming Tarden.

They told her they wanted the manuscript to be returned to secret service ownership.

'We want you to think of the book as an object of art. We will redact it and put it inside the vitrine with your notebooks where it will remain, permanently.'

You want me to put it under glass so that it will no longer function as a book but as a sculpture?

'Yes.' He blinks his eyes rapidly. 'It becomes an object of art.' The Director follows this in a soft, imploring voice. 'Will you consider that, Jill?'
Epilogue p.187

The redacted manuscript is allowed to go on show only once, as a one-off exhibit.

This is that exhibit.

What you see when you go in is some letters between the artist and the secret service as they negotiate the agreement. There are some neon installations showing phrases that she gathered during her research, such as (I can't remember them exactly so these are paraphrased) 'The man on stage with the trumpet is the spider in the web' or 'I can burn your face' (which in secret service parlance means to expose the spy's secret identity).

There is a single copy of the manuscript. Once you've absorbed the full story, it becomes like a magnet. It's a hefty manuscript, and the white space where paragraphs and words have been redacted give it a poetic aesthetic. A single white page with a few sentences left in the middle; or a page where the words scatter downwards.

As I deal with the Freedom of Information Act in my day job this had an extra element of interest to me. Redaction is fascinating. It obviously makes you wonder what was taken out, so in some sense perhaps you are focusing on the gaps rather than what's actually there.

You know you'll never, ever get chance to read the manuscript ever again. But there's no chance you'll ever read it here either. It's really long. There's only one copy in the exhibition. And you can't sit down and read it. So you stand, flicking through the pages, catching a phrase here and there, as if to try to absorb something from it. It seemed really well written and probably would have been a really fascinating book.

Inside the exhibition space is a small room filled with large posters on which the artist has inscribed short sentences, all to do with secrets, spies, etc., such as:

Prove the white raven does not exist

...it sends a shiver down the spine.

So - definitely recommended. But then I would always recommend a trip to any of the Tates.

Other exhibitions I popped into today were Scale on Level 3 which includes a giant table and chairs (everyone in the room was smiling) and No Ghost Just a Shell, which was an exploration of a Japanese manga character - but I found that a bit too weird for me and it didn't really inspire me or convince me.

Here's a picture of a previous trip to the Tate:

Photo of Tate Turbine Hall from bods used under Creative Commons

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A story about hiking boots

Posted on 28 August 2009 in Walking

I want to post about how great Berghaus hiking boots are. I love them!

First of all, a bit of background.

These are my old boots (before and after being cleaned!). They're Brasher ones. I must have had them for about, ooh, fifteen years or something like that. I've done a lot in them. See, here they are on the South Downs:

Obviously other people liked them too, because for some unknown reason, the photo below is the 21st most viewed photo of mine on Flickr (and a long time it was higher up in the list). Goodness knows why.

But they've been old and cracked and worn for a few years, but I've struggled along because:

a) new boots are VERY EXPENSIVE.

b) every pair of new shoes or boots I have EVER had in my life has caused my feet to rub, blister, or even bleed. Maybe I just have funny shaped feet or something, but basically, it's not a case of breaking the shoe in, it's my foot that has to be broken in. After a while, the shoe feels okay. So I've resigned myself to this as a natural process of wearing new shoes.

Anyway, a couple of years ago I decided to take the plunge and I bought these Meindl boots which cost over £100:

I had tried them in the shop and a bit around the house, and they seemed okay. I had a walk in them and they seemed a tad uncomfortable, but due to my past experiences I just assumed this was 'breaking in'.

So, I set off on the last two days on the South Downs Way.

It was a disaster! By the end of the weekend I was literally hobbling in agony. My ankles had swollen up like balloons and my big toe had turned black. It was really bad.

There was nothing wrong with the boots themselves and I'm sure they were fine, but they were obviously too small for me.

I was very fed up, it was such a lot of money to waste.

They've been sitting in my wardrobe for ages waiting for me to finally get around to putting them on Ebay.

So, for a while it was back to the old, leaky and sponge-like but comfortable stalwarts.

Then, this year we walked the West Highland Way, and as we prepared for the trip, I knew I couldn't go walking in boots that seemed to suck up water.

So with trepidation I went shopping.

Andrew had bought some Berghaus boots a few years ago and had had no problems with them. They had been great. Also, he had a really brilliant BBC discount which we could take advantage of... so off we went to the Covent Garden store.

The man in the store was very helpful, but I was nervous. I basically had about a week until we were going, and all I could do was wear them around the house a lot more than I did last time. If there was a problem, I'd have no choice but to revert to old-leaky boots.

My new Berghaus boots are the ones in the middle in the picture above (photo by Bods).

So how were they?

I couldn't believe it.

They were PERFECT.

In fact, they were probably the most comfortable pair of shoes I have ever worn (in other words, not needing to be broken in at all).

The man in the shop had told me that Berghaus now prides themselves on customers not having to break in boots, and that you can basically wear them 'out of the box'.

It was true!

Berghaus boots are great.

And my old boots? I'm hoping to turn them into flowerpots. They have some good memories.

They can be retired, and grow flowers. They'd like that.

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