This week the Comma Press Short Story course begins. The course is hosted by Madlab, an organisation coordinating a fantastic schedule of events and activities, all centred around technical and creative innovation and invention. I am thrilled to be leading the writing course this time. I'm particularly looking forward to meeting the course participants, and beginning the process of writing and learning together - exploring the brilliant, diverse and exciting things short stories can do.

One of the most challenging parts of the course preparation so far has been creating the reading list. During sessions we will study several short stories from the masters (contemporary and classic) - examples to help us develop our own narrative structures, character, voice...  But how do you reduce all the incredible, jewel-like examples out there to a reading list of just twelve stories? And how do you overcome the temptation of personal favourites in pursuit of balance and variety? (At one point, my list featured three (three!) Hilary Mantel stories...)

After much agonising and coffee, and a bit of guidance from Comma Editor Ra Page, I just about got there. And I'm really looking forward to exploring some fantastic work by writers including Hemingway, Conan Doyle, Carver, Joyce, Mansfield, Adam Marek... (and I still sneaked a Mantel on there!) with the group. But casting out so many amazing stories was painful so I am hoping we can compile a working list of go-to short stories that course participants will add to as well with their long term favourites and also stories they discover and fall in love with along the creative journey.

But more than reading, I'm excited to begin the writing process with the group - seeing what stories we bring; creating unexpected narratives, pushing ourselves to try something new and sharpening our writing skills together.

Beta-Life Launch Week

This week Comma Press launches its latest anthology of science into fiction. Beta-Life: Stories from an A-Life Future is a collection of stories written by authors collaborating with scientist consultants in leading research areas of artificial life, future technology and unconventional computing. All the stories in the collection are set in or around 2070.  I was delighted to contribute a story, 'The Bactogarden', working closely with my fantastic consultant Prof. Martyn Amos.

Now I finally have my hands on a copy, it is fascinating to see how other writers have taken on the project, particularly their perception of the world in 2070. It is intriguing how certain things recur in the stories (quinoa, video walls, climate refugees...) Perhaps we've all been watching the same SF/ futuristic films or have somehow synchronised our google research paths. But predicting the future and keeping it in hand through a narrative was something I found delightfully challenging with this project. Perhaps that is why I particularly admire Martyn Bedford's story, 'The Sayer of the Sooth' which not only creates a very convincing portrayal of the world in 2070, but also riffs against it in a self-aware primary narrative, the story effectively folding back on itself. It is hugely inventive, without compromising the grit of the central story. I also love Claire Dean's story 'Making Sandcastles' which explores human issues around personal fabricating technology, and Zoe Lambert's story 'Keynote' which deals with collective consciousness. Adam Marek's story 'Growing Skyscrapers' is another of my favourites so far in the collection, imagining a world where high rise buildings are grown organically, like trees.

At times during this process, trying to imagine the world in 60 years time has left me blundering dangerously close to something that resembled the Jetsons, and eventually coming to the conclusion, with the brilliant editorial support of Ra Page and consultant Martyn Amos, that in many ways things won't be that different to now; ultimately humans are humans are humans... regardless of location, situation, technology advances or time frame. We have the same motivations, desires and drives. Predicting what the future looks like is tricky. I recently remembered an episode of that dire 70's sitcom Some Mother's Do 'Ave 'Em where Frank and Betty are staying in a futuristic house belonging to Betty's brother. It's all sliding doors, retracting TV screens and hammy rotating storage. Predictably, with Frank around, chaos ensues. The technological advances were, clearly, less predictable - and laughable now. In 2070, I will be 90 years old. I wonder if I will look back on the stories in the Beta-Life collection in my old age and smile to myself about the bits we got so right, and perhaps others that were a little shy of the mark. Although in reading the admirable stories from other writers in this collection, I am even more convinced that it is less about trying to make wholesale predictions about the future and so much more about dreaming the possibilities within a solid grounding of scientific truth.

Beta-Life launched as part of the Manchester Science Festival. See here for more details.

See here to purchase a copy of Beta-Life.

The Short Review: Unthology 5

My review of Unthology 5 went up onto The Short Review website this week - a brilliant site dedicated exclusively to the short story.

I am enthusiastic about the Unthology collections that have come before but I particularly admire this fifth collection. It was a pleasure to read and a delight to delve into for reviewing purposes.

“What people are ashamed of usually makes a good story” (F Scott Fitzgerald). This is a truth reflected in many of the stories in this glittering collection. Several revolve around the moment at which the secret thought, the thing a character most wants to conceal, bleeds out into the world. Underneath the layers, we glimpse the raw, challenging or uncomfortably familiar. And how delicious it is to know the secret thoughts of others...

Read the full review here.

Unthank Books, responsible for the Unthology series, are already preparing the next anthology of work. Read here for more about what they do, and submission guidelines.

Litfest 2014

Now in its 36th year, Lancaster Litfest holds the annual literature festival hosting events that 'introduce, intrigue, challenge and entertain'. It's always brill.

This year I'm delighted to be taking part in an event with Claire Dean and Prof Martyn Amos for the new Comma Press anthology Beta Life: Stories from an A-Life Future. It has been an exciting project to contribute a story to and includes stories from a host of writers I admire hugely. Each one is developed and provided with an afterword from leading scientist consultants such as Prof Amos.

I will also be in the audience for as many Litfest events as possible. A while ago, a writer friend of mine put me onto Bernard MacLaverty's short fiction. He is a fantastic writer and so I am delighted that he is doing a reading at Litfest this year and also running a workshop. I've signed up for the workshop - hearing writers talk about their process is gold dust.

My other highlights - Jenn Ashworth who will be talking about her work - both short stories and novels and The Book Of Gaza event. The anthology, from Comma Press is a collection of short fiction from writers with personal knowledge and understanding of everyday life in Gaza; an incredible insight beyond the narrow images seen on the news. See here for a full listing of Litfest events.

Good Mentor Health

I've said it before, I'll say it again; the WoMentoring Project is a brilliant thing. I am delighted that I applied for a mentor through this initiative. When I saw the list of incredible writers, editors and agents (all women) offering their skills and expertise as mentors to emerging women writers, I knew immediately who I wanted to apply to. Tania Hershman is a writer I admire hugely. She is also an expert on flash fiction which is an area I want to develop and improve in my own work. Plus, Tania writes a lot of stories that fuse science and fiction which is something I love and want to do more of. I was so delighted when she agreed to take me on as a mentee. It is all still very new, but already Tania has done so much to help and encourage me with resources, a fantastic collection of short story inspiration and, probably most valuably, permission... to stretch out, dream, try something new in my work. I have written two new pieces already with my head in a very different space. It is invigorating and so exciting. I'm lucky to have such a tremendous mentor. And I can't rave about the WoMentoring Project enough. A brilliant endeavour that I've been signposting to all my female writer friends.

And finally, Mr S and I have a holiday coming up, so this week I compiled my holiday reading list which for me trumps any other sort of holiday prep! This year's mix includes two recently-dead authors, three novels I've been meaning to read for ages, a bit of SF, a classic or two, a book I was given as a gift that I'm a tiny bit sceptical about but will probably hugely enjoy and a delicious delicious Sophie Hannah novel (that I will probs have finished by the time we land in Spain). I thank the Lord that Mr S has a Kindle so in terms of baggage allowance, he can take a bit of a hit with holiday library.

Looking after my future self

On an impulse between deadlines and work obligations, I dashed out for a swim the other day. I used to swim every week, but haven't gone for a while. I just grabbed the opportunity and my swimming bag and went. After thirty lengths, I had just enough time to wash my hair before heading on to the rest of a busy day. In the shower, I delved into my bag to find my shampoo bottle... empty. A tiny and very first world problem, I know. But an inconvenience, a small stress added to a number of small frustrations that day. Cumulatively it was the last thing I needed. Feeling (disproportionately) put out I slammed the bottle back in my bag and found, to my delight and surprise, a new full shampoo that I have no memory of buying or putting in there. Sincerely, I have no memory of this.

This is such a tiny insignificant thing. The smallest of small issues. But I really value this idea that I'd looked after my future self. At some point in history, I'd had the forethought to imagine my future needs and supply a solution. Nothing life transformingly forward thinking like writing a will, or organising life insurance, or flossing. It was something very tiny, but tender.

Generally speaking, I'm quite good at being kind to others. I really like listening to people when they need to talk something through. I try to be a good friend - text or ring when people need support. I enjoy encouraging people, spotting what they're good at and being positive about it. But I'm often not very good at this with myself. If I thought about other people the way I think about myself, I would consider myself a pretty horrible person. I don't regard myself very kindly. I berate myself a lot. I tend to pull apart things I've done, looking for the mistakes, rather than what went well. I agonise over stuff I've said, thought or done that didn't come out right, instead of focussing on the larger percentage that is positive and uplifting. I can be a thoroughly nasty person, when it comes to me. With myself, I'm often not very kind or thoughtful.

I  know I'm not the only one. Perhaps this berating of self resonates with you. If it doesn't and you find it easy to be kind to yourself, I'd love to know how to do it. I think this is why the shampoo-in-swimming-bag touched me deeply. it was a cherishing, thoughtful act to myself - my future self. A tiny but loving act of kindness, that I'd forgotten all about.

So, in a resolve to continue this, today I've written a kind letter to myself a year in the future, via FutureMe. Through this website, you can write a letter to yourself at some date in the future and it will be forwarded to you then. You can make it private (I did!) or anonymously public. There are some touching and intriguing ones up there on the website to read. In my letter I was encouraging, supportive and mindful of where I might be in 12 months time. I'm hoping when I get it I will have forgotten I sent it, a bit like finding a full bottle of shampoo on a busy day when I thought I'd run out. A kind and surprising message in a bottle.

A Review: A Song For Issy Bradley

This book may challenge the way you think about faith. It will also make you laugh and cry - I promise.

Carys Bray's novel A Song For Issy Bradley is the story of a British Mormon family in the aftermath of the death of the youngest child, Issy.

The story is about how each of them journey through grief. The narrative switches between characters; Issy's parents, Claire and Ian, and her siblings, Alma, Zipporah and Jacob, take turns unfolding the family's story. Every character sees things in a different way. Every voice matters. For Claire it is a paralysing experience that sends her into catatonic shock; a passive rebellion against faith. For the youngest family member, Jacob, negotiating the familiar (if amplified) confusion of stories we're told as children; God, Father Christmas, spirit beings and the tooth fairy, his response is to hatch a plan to resurrect Issy.

However, this isn't a novel all about death. It is a book about family; the dynamics, struggles and joys of being part of one. It is also about the challenge to make sense of the things that can, and do, happen to us all. Bray has this incredible knack of seeing the details that count. You smile at the familiar moments; Ian's desperation to be the figurehead, holding everything together, Teenage daughter Zippy's first love and the fantasies of what it is to be grown up, Alma's rebellion against the family obligations that take him away from his football.

The multiple viewpoint structure is the perfect way to tell their story. I don't always think it is helpful to compare books to other books... but I can't help mentioning that it reminded me strongly of The Poisonwood Bible in the sense that it takes an incredibly accomplished writer, like Kingsolver, like Bray, to handle a range of divergent voices so exactingly. You can open any page, read a line of text and know with absolute certainty whose narrative you are in, purely because of the voice. This brilliant handling allows the reader to get beneath the skin of the characters and feel what they feel acutely. You will probably grapple over who is your favourite character. They are superbly drawn and I'm fond of them all for different reasons. I feel like I might bump into Jacob at the penny arcade at the end of Southport pier, or Zippy trying lip glosses in Beales. I would recognise each of them anywhere.

It could have been tempting for Bray, who was brought up in a Mormon family, before leaving in her thirties, to have made this novel a vehicle to ridicule the Mormon church and faith. A less skilled writer may have gone that way, as a cheap trick. What is going on here is far more nuanced. Bray presents aspects of the faith that may make us feel queasily outraged - particularly the treatment of women, the teaching of sex and sexuality and the legalistic doctrine. But Bray is even-handed and also depicts details of Mormonism with great dignity and gentle affection; the kindness and support shown from the community, the culture around sharing food and eating. It is funny. It is life affirming. There is the reality of a living faith in characters like Brother Rimmer. There is measure and balance sustained through to the last page. There is shade and subtlety to the writing that I admire hugely.

This is a beautifully written novel. Tender without being mawkish; real, sincere, brutal and also uplifting. An incredible debut.