Just finished editing my next book, Cassandra’s Phoenix. Editing your own work is a brutal business. I cut out over 5,000 words, changed many others. Assessing and marking O. U. assignments, I’ve had some practice from the other side. Rigorous O.U. staff monitoring should reassure students that grading’s consistent. It’s a erve racking business for tutors too. Are we doing a good job ? Guiding students effectively? Supporting them ?
Can I be so clear sighted when editing my own writing ? I handed Cassandra’s Phoenix over to the IT department last Friday. IT is still working out how the text of emails about an upcoming birthday* became embedded in a novel which doesn’t even mention covid. As usual, the narrative features star-crossed lovers, required component of most fiction, especially crime, fantasy, historical fiction, sci fi and thrillers. Children’s ? William Brown was always falling in love. Next stage of this publishing enterprise ? Trying to sell Cassandra’s Phoenix, persuade people to read it, offer tantalising extracts, and of course, create a brilliant cover. As my mentor The Spy said, if you can’t draw, find somebody who can. For Flight into Egypt, I enlisted the help of two, including the most brilliant cat lover ever. Spot his cats on the cover. Masterpieces…
And then ? What every writer wants, obviously –
‘ I cannot help hoping that many will feel themselves obliged to buy it.’
Definitely. Which means I’m back with the old problem. Me and Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy. ‘ Ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers.’ When Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, suggests that Darcy ‘will not give himself the trouble’ (can’t be bothered ?) Darcy tries to explain or justify himself.
‘I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,’ said Darcy, ‘of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.’
Sounds familiar ? It’s not about being arrogant, in my case without Darcy’s ten million a year*, a Chatsworth / Pemberley and a house in town. ( Posh English people knew only one Town, and still come down from that place when travelling Up North) Comprised, according to DNA, of every tribe despised by the English ( Irish, Jewish, Nigerian, Scottish, dash of Welsh, I’m ill qualified for arrogance. Not convinced about the wonders of self esteem either. Nice idea, like having brown eyes, dark hair and skin that tans, didn’t get any of those either.
Conversing easily with strangers ? Often WFH, long before covid, especially as an O.U. tutor, conversing with anybody was limited. WFH all the time can be deadly,for students and tutors. Especially in rural areas, IT problems still limit the use of Skype or Zoom. Conferences and summer schools change that, miraculously. We’d meet, even just for a day, usually at a college or university, knowing only a name or photo. Ideas fired, online working relationships went live. That’s why everybody was there. Some faces were familiar, others known only from emails and calls. B.C. , Zoom usually meant changing the size of images or that noise made by little boys and Top Gear.
Wherever the real meeting, or conference, or symposium took place, the drill was roughly the same, Arrive, present ID, check in, collect badge. For the last two, both in early March, this year, use sanitiser was added to the ritual. You know the badge routine ? Some badges are austerely formal, forename, surname, barcode. Very official, as in .gov.uk ? Your entire life will have been taken apart, probably by MI 5. Others are semi friendly, Hello, Deliberately matey ? That’s a Hi , My name is Esther. Once badged, it’s safest to head straight for the coffee machine, ask someone how to work it, start talking.
Hi, My name is Fitwilliam Darcy ?
Wouldn’t help him, would it ? Not his style. At the Meryton Assembly, Darcy refuses to be introduced to Lizzie so he can’t possibly dance with her. Later, at a large assembly at the Lucas’s, Lizzie (how dare she ?) challenges Darcy first – then snubs him when Sir William offers a formal introduction. Finally, at the famous Netherfield ball, she gets to the root of their problem.
‘We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.’
Guilty as charged ? Was Darcy ? Am I ? At her first ball, in Bath, despite having over £11,000 holiday spending from her dad, and a dowry of over 3 million ** Catherine Morland faced a crisis.
‘ She longed to dance, but she had not an acquaintance in the room.’
Days later, the problem of knowing nobody was resolved by the Master of Ceremonies who introduced Henry Tilney. Job done. Everybody needs a Master or Mistress of Ceremonies. Shorter and gender neutral too, we need an Emcee. Writers need that one special person, the one who will read their book, decide it’s good, tell other people to read it.
Ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers ?
My big chance… That kind, when you never get a second chance to make a first impression. Which, as Darcy and Elizabeth would agree, can be so very misleading. Summoned to London, with my agent, to the office of one of the Famous Five, I messed up. The interview was a disaster. Heroically, my agent played lifeguard. Could I submit five more synopses ? The very long journey home was a blur. Mono, aka glandular fever, left me a rag for weeks, barely able to write my name. When I began to recover, I did write those five synopses. My agent liked the one I called Cassandra’s Phoenix best. So far, and this is the fourth book, it’s the only title I haven’t changed.
I’ve taken this book apart. Lop’t and crop’t, successfully I hope. Who was Cassandra ? What did she care about ? Who were her real friends ? What was going wrong ? Not just money, because it never is. Cheating, of course, but more than that… Fundamentally irreconcilable differences ? So fundamental, they’d be on opposite sides of any barricades, any civil war ? Matilda and Stephen ? Wat Tyler and Richard II ? Charles I and Cromwell ? Peterloo ? Easter 1916 ? Hiroshima ? Trident ? Brexit ? I’d been vague about her partner’s job. In the rewrite, Cassandra has to face the truth. What would be a real deal breaker for me ? Cassie’s definitely with the wrong person, but does she really need a right one ? Cassie will need to think hard about that.
* The birthday ? Bad news. They’re back in lockdown.
** Jane Austen’s financial data for Northanger Abbey and P & P. www. measuring worth.com.
East of the Sun, West of the Moon, sat nav won't like that 