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Viewing: Blog Posts Tagged with: Steve Feasey, Most Recent at Top [Help]
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1. Meg, Mog, Buck and Chas (and many others)

"What was your favourite book when you were growing up?"
It’s a question I’m sure every author has been asked a thousand times, but my son was the one asking me this time, so I thought I should give it some serious thought for once.
I have a terrible memory. I can forget the name of a TV program I watched the previous week, and despite my adoration of books, I find it hard to remember many that really ‘did it for me’ as a youngster. However, a little trawling of the grey stuff managed to dredge up some wonderful memories, and I thought I’d share them on ABBA.
The earliest book I can remember reading for pleasure (as opposed to the Red Pirate and Blue Pirate books I was sent home from school with) was Meg and Mog by Helen Nichol and Jan Peinkowski. I have no idea why this book stayed in my head the way it did, but I was delighted when a friend bought it for my daughter to read when she was a little dot. When I asked her if she remembered it too, she squeed with delight and rushed up into the attack to see if it was still somewhere in her growing-up box (it’s not, so I might have to buy her a new copy despite the fact she’s fifteen now).
The first book I can remember having read to me was The Tiger Who Came to Tea by Judith Kerr. I’m certain there must have been others, but this is the one that has most firmly lodged itself (although The Hungry Caterpillar was also waving frantically at me from somewhere deep in my pre-frontal cortex). When some family recently came to visit us from Scotland, I dug out this little gem to read to their children. Their reaction to it was a joy. It really is a timeless classic.


Darker things now. For some reason, the Moomins by Tove Jansson scared the crap out of me as a child. I’ve never revisited them to try and discover just what it was about the books that have left me so scarred, but I do remember being particularly unnerved by the Hattifatteners (even writing that down has brought back disturbed, and no doubt terribly suppressed, memories). Despite this fear, I have a feeling I read three of four books in the series, so my delight of being scared clearly outweighed my fear (something I’ve never forgotten as a writer).
Next on my list are two books that I read back-to-back when laid up sick in bed with the flu at the age of eleven (it was proper flu, not man flu). Call of the Wild by Jack London and The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien are two of my most loved books. Maybe it was the fever I was running at the time, but these two stories are branded into my higgledy-piggledy RAM, and are as much a part of me as any book I’ve read since. London’s Buck has now also become a favourite of my youngest child. What goes around comes around, huh?
Last on my list is the book I think I loved more than any other in the years before I found my way into the Horror, Sci-Fi and General Fiction sections of my local library. A book about a boy living in the North East of England during WW2. Chas McGill is up there in my top ten list of characters and is the hero of The Machine Gunners by Robert Westall. A wonderful, poignant book that still appeals to young and old today. If you haven’t read it, do yourself a favour and do so.
Of course, whenever you try to put a list like this together, it’s inevitable that many great books will be left out. But for me, the above list represents the books that made the most lasting impression on me until I reached those torrid teens and discovered a whole new world of literature.

7 Comments on Meg, Mog, Buck and Chas (and many others), last added: 9/21/2012
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2. Who'd be a writer? Er, me.



Just like any job, being a professional author has its ups and downs, and if you are serious about pursuing a career in writing I think you should do so with your eyes wide open to what these might be. With this in mind, I've put together a potted little guide to try and help anyone contemplating setting out on this mad, bad and sometimes dangerous journey. This blog entry comes with a warning to those of you dead set on choosing this path: hold on to your Mont Blancs, some of this might not be very palatable.


Let’s start with the good stuff:

THE PROS

  • You are your own boss, and despite deadlines you can work hours to suit you.
  • You get to meet lots of wonderful people who share your love of reading and writing, and many of these like, if not love, what you choose to do.
  • You are doing something you love to do, and your job allows you to express yourself in a way very few others can.
  • You entertain and/or enlighten those people who read your work, and you get to hear back from these same people in the form of letters or emails or face-to-face meetings at events.
  • 10 Comments on Who'd be a writer? Er, me., last added: 5/31/2012
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3. Hey, good lookin'. What you got cooking? Steve Feasey

"What do you do when you’re not writing?" "What are you working on now that you’ve finished [insert book title here]?"
These are questions I get asked all the time (and I very much doubt I’m alone on this one). There seems to be a feeling among some people that when you are not in the middle of writing or editing a book, you’re sitting about twiddling your thumbs and achieving absolutely zip. Nothing could be further from the truth, but it took me a while to work that out. Being ‘between books’ can be a stressful and worrying place to be. But it doesn’t have to be.
I’m cooking at the moment.
It’s what I call that process when you’ve had the kernel of a really good story idea, but you can’t quite work out what the book is going to be. So you cook it in your head for a while and see if what comes out of the oven is a beautifully risen soufflé, or a sunken mass of sticky goo.

Everything else in my life is suffering at the moment because of my obsession with this idea. I’m inattentive at the best of times, but when I’m hacking through the jungle of ‘pick me!’ ideas to try and find my way to the Golden Temple of Story, I must be hell to live with. I wake at three or four in the morning, apologising as I turn on the light and fumble about for a notebook and pencil with which to scribble down the idea that my muse (who clearly keeps very unsociable hours) has decided to drop on me. Then I go back to sleep. Unfortunately, my wife rarely does.
Being a ‘pantser’ doesn’t help. I keep telling myself that if only I could plot; plan a route through the undergrowth before setting off on the journey, my life would be so much easier. But I’m not built like that. I have a sado-masochistic streak to me that forces me to make my writing life as difficult as possible. Not only am I a pantser, but I’m not a sharer. I shudder at the thought of telling anyone my idea, or asking someone to read the first part of a story to let me know what they think. I don’t even like letting my agent read early versions of my work. For me, getting an idea into something like a story, and a story into something like a book is an act of self-flagellation rivalled only by certain Filipino Catholics during the Penitensiya.
6 Comments on Hey, good lookin'. What you got cooking? Steve Feasey, last added: 3/21/2012
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