Words with JAM
Contents
On Dreaming and Doing: Therapeutic Writing - including discussion with Gillie Bolton, writing from Creative Writing and Personal Development student Marlene Brown, experiences from Watching Petals Fall author Geves Lafosse, and a look at Different Cultures. One World. Women’s Voices from South Yorkshire
Book v Television: A Conversation with Peter Robinson by Gillian Hamer
The Well of Lost Libraries - an update with Catriona Troth, The Library Cat
60 Second Interviews with Andy McDermott and Nick Taussig
Third Time’s a Charm - another visit to the Wigtown Book Festival with Danny Gillan
The Abyss - procrastinating with Perry Iles
For One Night Only - this is the story of a play which – for over twenty years – saw just one performance. A play written and rehearsed in secret. An act of defiance against a totalitarian state that almost (but not quite) succeeded. The story of The Beggar’s Opera, by Vaclav Havel, sometime president of the Czech Republic. By Catriona Troth
Writer’s Workshop - Zurich - by Gillian Hamer
Pack Your Bags - We’re Jumping on the Bandwagon with Derek Duggan
Literature - a wide and wonderful world. Or why Buzz Lightyear is one of the world’s greatest literary philisophers by Anne Stormont
Exploring the Channel with Richard Wagamese - by Christy Jordan Fenton
A night with the Camerata Xara Young Women’s Choir
Competitions
Flash 500 Humour Verse Competition - third quarter’s winners
Flash 500 Fiction Competition - third quarter’s winners
Comp Corner - be in with a chance to win a hardback copy of Paulo Coelho’s new book, Aleph, in a new competition by Danny Gillan
WIN a £500 General Critique by Cornerstones Literary Agency - the longlist announced
Giving you another chance - giveaways for Facebook ‘likers’
A Quite Short Story
Monogamous by Hayley Sherman
Pencilbox
The Agent’s View with Andrew Lownie, Shelley Power, Christian Dittus and Svetlana Pironko
The Most Exciting Place in Publishing by Dan Holloway
Cornerstones Mini Masterclass - exploring first pages with Helen and Kathryn
Writing From a Different Place with Dan Holloway
Scripts: World Cinema by Ola Zaltin
Strutting and Fretting Upon the Stage - description and scene setting with Sarah Bower
Question Corner - Lorraine Mace answers your questions on writing
Some other stuff
Dear Ed - Letters of the satirical variety
The Rumour Mill - sorting the bags of truth from the bags of shite
Horoscopes - by Shameless Charlatan Druid Keith
If in Doubt, Invent Your Own - a new initiative
The Team
Sarah Bower is the author of two historical novels, THE NEEDLE IN THE BLOOD and THE BOOK OF LOVE (published as SINS OF THE HOUSE OF BORGIA in the US). She has also published short stories in QWF, The Yellow Room, and Spiked among others. She has a creative writing MA from the University of East Anglia where she now teaches. She also teaches creative writing for the Open University. Sarah was born in Yorkshire and now lives in Suffolk.
Clinical psychologist Sue Carver is serving a long apprenticeship in novel-writing. Her aphorism is: it takes as long as it takes. Her first novel is set in the world of psychological therapy and her second takes her far out of her comfort zone. She has published poetry under her maiden surname: Leppard, but she wasn’t made in Sheffield and, although she has wide tastes in music, she much prefers Raymond to Def.
Helen Corner founder of Cornerstones Literary Consultancy and co-author of Write a Blockbuster.
Derek Duggan is a graduate of The Samuel Beckett Centre for Theatre Studies at Trinity College Dublin. He lives in Spain with his wife and children and is not a tobogganist.
Danny Gillan’s award-winning Will You Love Me Tomorrow was described as one of the best debut novels of 2008. Now, for entirely cash related reasons, Danny’s novel Scratch is available for Kindle readers (‘users’ sounds a bit druggy). It’s so funny it’s made people accidentally wee, apparently. Really, actually wee in their pants. True story..www.dannygillan.co.uk
Gillian Hamer is a full time company director and part time novelist. She divides her time between the industrial Midlands and the wilds of Anglesey, where she spends far too much time dreaming about becoming the next Agatha Christie. http://gillian]wordpress.com/
Dan Holloway In June Dan’s novel The Company of Fellows was voted “favourite Oxford novel” in a poll of readers from Blackwell’s bookstore. On July 28th he took part in Blackwell’s Rising Stars panel alongside authors Naomi Wood, Nikesh Shukla and Stuart Evers, and on October 18th is being handed the use of the Oxford store’s world-famous Norrington Room to host the spoken word event This Is Oxford.
Perry Iles is an old man from Scotland. If he was a dwarf, he’d be grumpy. He lives in a state of semi-permanent apoplectic biliousness, and hates children, puppies, kittens, and periods of unseemly emotion such as Christmas. He pours out vinegary invective via a small writing machine, and thinks it’s a bit like throwing liver at the wall. He tells anyone who’ll listen that this gives him a modicum of gratification.
Andrew Lownie is a member of the Association of Authors’ Agents and Society of Authors and was until recently the literary agent to the international writers’ organisation PEN. In 1998 he founded The Biographers Club, a monthly dining society for biographers and those involved in promoting biography, and The Biographers’ Club Prize which supports first-time biographers.
Lorraine Mace is a columnist with Writing Magazine and co-author, with Maureen Vincent-Northam, of The Writer’s ABC Checklist, has had her work published in five countries. Winner of the Petra Kenney International Poetry Award (comic verse category), she writes fiction for the women’s magazine market and is a writing competition judge. www.lorrainemace.com
JJ Marsh - writer, teacher, newt. www.jjmarsh.wordpress.com
Matt Shaw - author, cartoonist, photographer, hermit, Billy-No-Mates. www.mattshawpublications.co.uk
Anne Stormont - as well as being a writer, is a wife, mother and teacher. She is also a hopeless romantic, who likes happy endings.
Kat Troth grew up in two countries, uses two names, and has had two different careers. One career she has spent writing technical reports for a non-technical audience. In the other, she attempts to write fiction. She tries always to remember who she is at any one time, but usually finds she has at least two opinions about everything.
Ola Zaltin is a Swedish screenwriter working out of Copenhagen, Denmark. He has written for both the big screen and the small, including episodes for the Swedish Wallander series. Together with Susanne O’Leary he is the co-author of the novel Virtual Strangers, (available as eBook).
Editor’s Desk
Editor’s Note
Welcome to our second anniversary issue. And a very special issue it is too. Space is tighter than a duck’s bum, so tight we have an extra four pages of goodness for you. For those subscribed to the print issue, the extra four pages of that potent and highly addictive smelling ink are on us. Merry Christmas!
My guess is you didn’t think the cover slots would get any better than they have been over the past few issues, but we’re delighted that author of The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho, agreed to give us an exclusive interview. You’ll have already read the blurb, glanced over the cover highlights and hastily skimmed the contents in order to reach this page and the delight that is my Editor’s Desk [coughs], so you’ll know what we’ve got lined up, but I’d like to point you in the direction of one feature which (along with everything else) is a must read. Page 14, The Well of Lost Libraries. The cause is such an important one here in the UK, and I’m sure at points in the past, present and future, other countries will or have faced similar predicaments. This account of what’s currently happening to our libraries is hugely poignant.
There’s a few thank you messages due now, but I’ll try and be briefer than the Oscars due to the aforementioned spatial problems (I always considered myself good with space awareness, but that clearly only applies to my PC desktop and car parking).
Thank you firstly to the dedicated team who make Words with JAM happen every other month, both those who have been here since the start, and those who have joined us along the way. Thanks also to the publishers, agents, authors and guest columnists who have supported us with their knowledgeable question answering, supply of wonderful prizes, enlightening features and outstanding cover slots. Thank you to our advertisers for allowing the magazine to continue. And thank you to everyone who has subscribed in whichever medium.
Lastly, to all those who replied to Jill’s call for Birthday Wishes, the result of which is below; reading an entire document full of such wonderful words is one of the most affirming moments I’ve had during the magazine’s existence. Thank you.
As always, enjoy!
New Podcasts:Writing to Live Again
Freedom from Torture’s creative writing group Write to Life was set up by the playwright Sonja Linden eleven years ago. It began with just four writers and a couple of mentors and showed how writing can help survivors cope better with their pasts and with the present.
The group now comprises some 20 clients, all referred by counsellors who recognise that for some writing can heal like no other form of therapy. Their work is truly ground-breaking.
Write to Life is possibly the only therapeutic writing group in the world dedicated specifically to survivors of torture.
We are privileged to be able to bring you a podcast that features performances from seven of Write to Life’s very talented poets.
Also new since the last edition:
Dark Heart, by Darren J Guest, read by Daniel Barzotti - A demon returns after twenty years. An Angel follows close behind. Leo is caught in an age-old conflict, his past lying at the dark heart of it all.
Kimi’s Secret, by John Hudspith, read by JJ Marsh - Gothic horror meets supernatural sci-fi; Kimi’s Secret will leave you gagging, breathless and sleeping with the light on. Suitable for grinning little monsters aged 10 to 100.
You can listen to all these podcasts and more at http://wordswithjam.podomatic.com/.
Reader Letters
My favourite reader letter since the last issue went out, which will win a copy of the magazine is:
I will not, I said to myself, spend the entire afternoon online. Oh wait, I said to myself as I was about to switch off my laptop, I haven’t looked at Words With Jam yet. I opened the email and clicked...
2 hours or so have passed and thus far I have:- Read a couple of articles and bits and pieces; leaving loads more for later. *liked* you on Facebook. Entered the “what’s your favourite book” FB comp. Noted that my favourite book of the moment, {Patrick Hamilton’s The West Pier}, may not stay my favourite as I have trouble with the concept of favourites, am fickle, have a relatively short attention span, and oh wait hang on, I love Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes, the mere title makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up; should I have chosen that instead and does it actually matter anyway? Read the banned book list. Noted that I’ve read 18 or so of the banned books, which is a bit of a poor show. Remembered that I wished I hadn’t read a couple of them. *cough* One Hundred Years of Solitude aka Fifty Four Pages before I couldn’t bear it any more *cough* Reserved 4 of the banned books from the library catalogue and put a further 2 on my library wish list. Felt ever so slightly smug as I was part of a, {mercifully successful}, campaign to prevent the closure of my local library. Felt sad for those who no longer have a local library. Vowed never to re-locate to anywhere sans library. And so on and so forth...
I could continue in this vein for a while but I’ll spare you further insight into my mind, dear reader. You get the general idea.
I am enjoying the October Issue.
I’m glad you didn’t call it Words With Ham. Typos Make Titles. Just not such good ones.
Jo Hudson
Happy Birthday, WWJ!
I wish Words with Jam had been around when I first started writing - not only for its invaluable insights and encouragement, but also as an entertaining distraction from hours staring at a blank computer screen. Happy Birthday! - Jane Fallon (author of Foursome and TV producer of Teachers, This Life and Eastenders)
I never thought I could learn so much from a single magazine, but WWJ is unique in the breadth and depth of writing issues it discusses. Many thanks to Jane and the entire team for putting together the best online literary magazine ever! - Heikki Hietala (writer, reader, short story contributor)
Many happy returns, Words With Jam; may you stick around much longer! - JK Rowling (author of the Harry Potter series)
The literary mag that beats the competition hollow is a whole two years old; Words with Jam – JD Smith’s amazing brainchild. How she juggles all the eggs in her basket no one can figure out. But she makes one hell of a literary soufflé. - Batty Jane x (short story contributor and competition winner)
Many congratulations. What a great magazine! - Julia Churchill (Greenhouse Literary Agency)
Jane, congratulations on WWJ’s second birthday! You’ve done such a lovely job of putting together a First Class magazine, you deserve to be very proud indeed. On top of that, you’ve surrounded yourself with some First Class talent (except for Gillan), and I imagine you all have quite a bit of fun. If that’s not true, please allow me to live in ignorance. - Pete Morin (author of Diary of a Small Fish)
If someone in my family was lucky we used to say they were ‘jammy.’ WWJ’s success is not just luck, though, but a great deal of hard work from a very talented person. Happy 2nd Birthday and keep up the great work. - Tricia xxx (reader and contributor)
Happy second birthday to the wonderful Words With Jam Magazine. I was SO proud (I still am) to have been the April 2011 edition ‘cover girl’ for WWJ. A highlight for me! Long may WWJ continue. The magazine is fresh, insightful, clever, funny and just bloody brilliant. Rather like the magazine’s editor in fact… - Amanda Hodgkinson (author of 22 Britannia Road)
Literary magazines arrived with the boom in print. Then everything changed and we needed to merge the great printed tradition with the electronic revolution. Your robustly healthy two year-old augers well for the future of the written word. I bet there were plenty of nay-sayers who told you it would never work, Jane - well, sucks to them! Bravo! - Andrew Crofts (author, judge and ghostwriter)
Thanks for all the reading pleasure and congratulations on the escalating success of WWJ - proof at last that talent and energy need not go unrewarded. May you have many happy returns and reissues! - Lee Williams (co-author of Triclops)
Congratulations so much on the birthday, and on continuing to thrive during tough times. Here’s to many more. - China Miéville (author of Embassytown)
WWJ and the whole team behind it is a joy to work with. If one person deserves singling out it is the incomparable Ms Dixon-Smith. Me simpleton, she Jane. - Ola Saltin (columnist, screenwriter, Scandinavian mentalist)
Congratulations on the successful launch of a fine publication - may she sail around the world. - Darren Guest (author of Dark Heart)
Happy birthday to a magazine which is consistently fresh, interesting, informative and useful whether you’re a writer or publishing professional. - Andrew Lownie (The Andrew Lownie Agency)
Our Ed, the Guvnor, Jane (aka Wonder Woman) - it’s been a total pleasure and privilege to be part of WwJ from day one and I’m grateful you’ve allowed me to be part of the successful journey. Each issue brings something fresh and unique, and I tingle with pride at every new page. The print edition is outstanding - better than anything you can find in the High Street. I’m never less than amazed by your array of talents and the way you handle everything with such quiet confidence. You’re a treasure and we’re lucky to have found you. Here’s to the next two years, four, six, eight ... Happy Birthday to all the team at WwJ! I hope you’re all as proud to be part of it as I am! - Gillian H. (writer and contributor)
In two years WWJ has developed from a work in progress with some dross about the Romans on the front page to something that’s a must read for anyone interested in books and writing. Nobody seems to know how it gets out every month, but I recall from my previous incarnation that it involves a lot of people running round in circles and disappearing up their own ... I seem to have lost the thread. Anyway, how does all that smut get through the editing process ... No, lost it again. I only have one final word to say. JK Rowling. - Douglas Jackson (bestselling author, first ever cover star, reader, lovely chap)
Many congratulations to Words With Jam on reaching its second birthday! It’s a really refreshing read which I highly recommend to my authors. Well done everyone! - Robin Wade (Wade & Doherty Literary Agency)
I’ve been a reader of Words with Jam (or WWJ as I’m sure we all affectionately call it) since the first issue and look forward to it appearing in my inbox every other month. Its mixture of practical advice, irreverence and (increasingly) big name authors makes it the perfect antidote to some of the more established writing magazines. I’m sure it will continue from strength to strength; I will definitely be reading! - Guy Saville (cover star and author of The Afrika Reich)
Happy 2nd Anniversary, to Jane and the whole team! You do a remarkable job. The very idea of creating and putting together a magazine by and for writers (mainly) about writing is brilliant but daunting. Given the large but terribly fragile egos most writers of my acquaintance have (except those reading this comment, of course), the fact that you have consistently pulled them together and produced a magazine of interest to EVERYone, the quality and variety of which just keeps getting better and better, is nothing short of a hyperbolic miracle! Here’s to you, Your Editorship, and all of the little writer elves who sit up all night stitching and sewing and hammering it together. - Tom Mciver (reader, musician, poet, Scot)
Congratulations on two years of the best writing mag on the block - here’s hoping Words with Jam continues to scream and stamp its foot - after all, you are now in the ‘Terrible Twos’! - Jo Reed (contributor and author of The Blood Dancer series)
It made me laugh, it made me cry! And that was just the anticipation! Thanks for giving me somewhere to vent spleen, somewhere I can say ‘KABOOM’ and not be ridiculed and for giving me a damn fine read each issue too. Your hard work is very much appreciated, cheers! Andrew Ramsay (Comic column guru, wastrel, drunk)
Those two years flew past quickly. I love WWJ. Really look forward to getting my copy, knowing I’m in for a good read, not to mention a laugh. It goes from strength to strength and that can only be down to all the hard work from Jane and the rest of the team. Not an easy task when you’re raising children and looking after dogs! Long may WWJ continue and the best to you all. Love Pam. - Pam Howes (writer, reviewer)
To say how much wine and beer is consumed by the editorial staff during the production of this quality magazine, it’s a miracle it ever makes a deadline. I’m glad it does though, it’s a wonderful periodical and I wouldn’t go without my copy if you paid me...Ok, maybe I would, but I’d miss it... - Trevor Belshaw (writer, reader, nutter)
Fresh, funny and factual - Words with JAM is simply wonderful. - Hazel Cushion (Managing Director Accent Press Ltd / Xcite Books Ltd)
Is it really two years since WWJ first burned out my monitor? If nothing else, you reaffirm my faith that are others just as depressed as me. Great stuff guys, keep it up and raise a glass to the next XXX years. - David W Robinson (reader, writer, flat-capped cynic)
As a past, and very proud, contributor to Words with JAM, as well as a regular reader, I’d like to take the opportunity to say thank you to Jane and the crew for an accomplished, innovative and all-round delectable magazine. Here’s to the next two years. - Maureen Vincent-Northam (freelance writer and co-author of The Writer’s ABC Checklist)
Many congratulations, Jane. WWJ is just brilliant. A big thank you for much reading pleasure. Please keep going - I need my fix. - Chris Curran XXX (reader and writer)
Only two years old, yet so wise. Fabulous job, Jane! Love Liza xxx
Happy Birthday, Jane. Talented, beautiful and a wonderful mother. I’ve no idea how you manage to juggle all your balls but you’re doing an amazing job. Your Lancaster fan x
I still have to pinch myself about being part of the fabbest magazine out there. Jane, you’re a 24-carat legend. - Dan Holloway (writer, columnist, polymath, bearded)
Happy Two Years Old, Words with Jam, all the best! - Laura Longrigg (MBA Literary Agency)
Two years already? Time flies when you’re... producing one of the best magazines by and for writers out there. WWJ is something that delivers every single time. A real feat! Thanks to Jane and the team there. Here’s to the next year, and the next, and the next... Michelle Elvy (comp corner winner, writer, reader, lovely person)
Jane, you’re a star! Happy WWJ birthday, best wishes, Clair x (reader and contributor)
A big hooray and happy birthday for Words with JAM! From humble beginnings, you’ve created a first rate writers mag. With humour and sensible advice going hand in hand it’s just plain FANTASTIC! Here’s to many, many more jammy years! Lisa Hinsley (author of The Ultimate Choice)
I was over the moon when Words With JAM gave me my very first cover article and was very impressed with the quality and content of the magazine. As a debut author, it meant so much to have a great magazine invest so much faith in me. It’s fantastic to see the success of Words with JAM and I’d like to send my sincere congratulations to Jane and the team. Wishing you greater success to come! Brightest wishes - Miranda Dickinson (author of Fairytale of New York, Welcome to My World and It Started With a Kiss)
Whatever I’m doing, when Words With Jam arrives in my inbox, I have to read it there and then. In my view it’s essential reading for any writer or aspiring writer. Kudos to Jane and her team for the astonishingly high standards they maintain. - Nick Daws (Freelance Writer www.mywritingblog.com)
Pleased to see Words with JAM entering its terrible twos except in this case I know they’re going to be brilliant. I’m thrilled to have been featured in this fabulous magazine and to see how successful it’s been. Congratulations to Jane and everyone involved. Here’s to many more anniversaries. love jane wj xx www.janewenham-jones.com (writer and interviewee)
Happy Birthday, Words with Jam. It’s been one hell of a ride. I remember when Jane first mooted the idea, I told her it sounded brilliant but I had no idea what I could contribute. She said, “You keep banging on about writers making more use of libraries. Why not write something about that?” So I did.
Two years later, I have interviewed some amazing people, from the man who set up Britain’s first community-run library to the participants in Freedom from Torture’s Write to Life group and the founder of Pelican Post. I’ve gained associate membership of the Society of Authors and buckloads of confidence. And I’ve done that with a magazine that I am SO PROUD to be a part of.
Jane, you had a vision of a new kind of magazine, and you made it happen. You’ve created fantastic opportunities for readers and writers alike. I am sure that these first two years are just the start, and that you and the magazine will go from strength to strength. Happy birthday, grrrl. Many happy returns. (Oh, and thanks for all the slosh.) - Kat (writer and contributor)
I’ve heard it said that big thinking precedes achievement. I’d like to thank Jane and the whole team at WWJ for thinking big and accomplishing greatness in just two short years. You make success look so easy. Congrats and Happy Birthday! Donna Fasano (bestselling author, e-book hero, Australasian)
Congratulations! Apparently we should celebrate your 2nd Year Anniversary with a gift of “Paper”. Although at first glance this seems fitting - to be honest next year seems more in sync with WWJ’s quirky wild side – it’s leather!!! Here’s to another great year. May your readership continue to soar! Nick Johnson (Founder Director, The Pelican Post)
WwJ is entertaining, enlightening and often erudite
– sometimes all three at once.
Well done on gathering a
fantastic bunch of writers together and producing a mag that looks as
good as it reads. Barbara Scott Emmett (writer, reader,
eroticist)
Happy Birthday WWJ!
Congratulations
and huge thanks for your hard work, nous and style, Wonder Woman Jane
and the team.
Love from Sue C xxx (contributor,
psychologist, smart cookie)
Jane, thank you so much for all your hard work, dedication but most of all your inspiration which makes Words with Jam so utterly readable and thought-provoking. Happy 2nd birthday! Love, Geves.
On Dreaming and Doing:Therapeutic Writing
by Catriona Troth
As Gillie Bolton says in the opening to her book, Write Yourself: Creative Writing and Personal Development, “Art has the power to help people understand themselves, each other and the world better.”
Writing is still a relative newcomer on the therapeutic block, less well recognised, even by professionals, than, say, art or music therapy. Nevertheless, you can now find therapeutic writing groups in all kinds of settings – working with adults and children, the sick and the dying, refugees and people in prison, recovering addicts and those with mental health problems, and many more.
So what exactly is therapeutic writing?
Those of us who write know that almost any writing can, at times, be therapeutic. However, the essential purpose of therapeutic writing is the exploration of self. We may choose, at some point, to show it to others. We may publish what we have written; we may perform it in public. But first and foremost, we are writing for ourselves.
As one member of a therapeutic writing group put it: “I didn’t know what I felt until I heard what I had written.”
Unlike when we talk – be it to a friend, a family member or a therapist – the words we write on a page are recorded, just as we first wrote them. We can put them aside for days or weeks if we choose, and then return to them, exactly as they were. We can “go deeper into our own truths.”
We can edit them, shape them, fashion them into something new.
We can choose how and when we share them with someone else. We can destroy them, if we wish.
And when someone does read the words, or listens to us read, they don’t interrupt or interact. They hear the whole thing, as we intended.
Filling in the Gaps
Gillie Bolton is one of a handful of people in the UK who, in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, more or less invented the field of therapeutic writing from their own experiences.
For Bolton, it began when her own demons began to catch her up and her husband, not knowing how to help, suggested that she wrote her autobiography.
“I sat down at my kitchen table and wrote a nice neat story on every other line of a hardback notebook. A childhood in a lovely farming village. Somehow writing that first version gave me permission to explore what was wrong. I went back and filled in the gaps, scrawling in red felt tip all over big sheets of paper. ”
As many others have discovered since, Bolton found that writing down our experiences can help provide separation, a necessary distance. Rather than thoughts going round and round in our heads, we have a narrative that can be shaped. And shaping that narrative allows us to make sense of traumatic events and to begin the process of recovery.
Not long ago, I heard a powerful interview on the radio: Bob Geldof, describing his reaction to hearing that his ex-wife, Paula Yates, had committed suicide. After weeks of being barely able to function, he went down into his basement and began composing music. He poured his anguish onto a CD and once it was done, the hurt was there, but it was contained. Manageable. He could function again.
Not all of us can distil our emotions into a musical composition, but we can all write. As Sheila Hayman, coordinator of Freedom From Torture’s Write to Life group says, “all it takes is a pen, paper and enough peace to let the words come out.”
Exploring the Hinterland
Bolton began to study how writing could help others as well as herself, eventually gaining her PhD in Reflective Practice: Therapeutic Writing for Professional Development, particularly in the medical profession.
“I trawled therapeutic practices. One of my favourites was the ‘two chair’ method, where you have a conversation with yourself in two different voices. I got people to write in different voices. If they had written something in the voice of their inner critic, they had to consciously seek out their inner mentor and write in that voice too.”
Bolton is particularly interested in what social anthropologists call ‘liminal states’: periods of transition between one life stage and another. Bereavement, convalescence, retirement, redundancy, ‘empty nest syndrome’ are all liminal states.
“Our society is particularly bad at allowing us time to make adjustments from one stage to another and to come to terms with the new conditions of our lives,” says Bolton. “But they are often also times of tremendous opportunity.”
A primary influence mentioned by several of my interviewees is Marion Milner. Milner was a psychoanalyst in the early 20th century. In her book, A Life of One’s Own she explored the benefits of keeping a journal and of ‘letting one’s mind speak for itself’ – perhaps the first experiment in tapping into the unconscious mind through free writing.
Free writing – writing done in that ‘hypnagogic state’ between waking and dreaming – is the first step in therapeutic writing. As Marion Milner found, allowing oneself space and time – and silence – can be a powerful way to access something beyond our conscious minds – whether we think of this as something spiritual or as what Bolton refers to as our ‘inner mentor’.
Free writing is best done with the body as well as with the mind – something may be lost if it’s mediated through a keyboard and a computer screen – when those insidious red and green lines start to criticise even before your thought is fully formed.
But free writing is only a first step. Milner went on to explore the nature of creative activity in On Not Being Able to Paint. Having experimented with free drawing, as she had with free writing, she became aware of a parallel need for a frame or structure, “without which human activity can spend itself in disastrous dissipation of energy.”
Bolton agrees. She has reservations about the practice, expounded in books such as Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, simply to write for thirty minutes every day. Sometimes, that can be a trap. “You can get stuck with the voice of your critic, with everything just getting blacker and blacker.”
To avoid this, Bolton suggests free-writing for just six minutes at a time. “After that, you need something playful.”
Plenty of ideas can be found for such ‘playful’ exercises. Some people respond to the formal structures of poetry, others to the familiar form of fairytales. “Once upon a time there was a… is such a powerful trigger,” says Bolton. “You can use it to explore your own archetypes, or discover what magic gifts you would give yourself. The golden rule is: you must write the positive.”
This is not simply a facile instruction to ‘always look on the bright side of life’. It is important not to shy away from the dark stuff. But afterwards, it’s vital to actively seek out the light.
Another trap that people may fall into is to imagine that what they have tapped from their subconscious is somehow sacrosanct – immune from the need to edit. Virginia Woolf described finding ‘diamonds in the dust heap’ when she wrote her diaries ‘at a gallop’. But as she well knew, those diamonds still require cutting and polishing. Often it is the shaping and reshaping of an image or a narrative that will allow you to find its real meaning.
Alone or in a Group
You don’t have to join a group to take advantage of the benefits of therapeutic writing. Bolton’s advice to anyone thinking of starting out on their own is to find a trusted friend. “Not a life partner or a business partner. And preferably someone who also wants to write, so there is an exchange, a quid pro quo.” If possible, she says, read aloud to each other. There is something tremendously powerful about the process of giving your words a voice.
Working in a group, however, can provide a frame, a discipline, that is not available when you work on your own. You don’t have to share your work or comment on anyone else’s until you’re ready, but you must write.
A typical group session will begin with a few minutes of silence or meditation, perhaps listening to music. And then a period of free writing before moving on to a more structured exercise. But different groups can have different needs.
Judy Clinton, who works with recovering addicts and alcoholics, says that her clients can find silence threatening. “There is often so much subconscious stuff they are trying to run away from. Writing trains them to slow down, teaches them to reflect.” She finds that if she lets them free write for a few minutes first, they can dump some of the chaotic baggage that is cluttering their minds and they are then more open to other things.
The next stage will be some form of exercise, with everyone in the group given time to work on their own. Different triggers work with different groups. River Wolton, working with refugee women who had been forced to leave almost everything behind, used ‘In the Museum of My Life’ to help the women select objects and images that represented something important about their own history. Lydia Fulleylove, working in a men’s prison, chose exercises that took the imagination beyond the prison walls - “the only legal form of escape,” as the Writers in Prison Network states.
When everyone has had time to finish writing, the group gathers again. Those who are ready to do so read their work aloud. Others comment.
“It’s important to remember that this isn’t psychotherapy,” says Bolton. “No one has the right to ask personal questions. You’re here to talk about the writing.”
One advantage that a writing group can have over ‘talking therapy’ is that it allows space for both introverts and extroverts. The introvert is given space and time to frame their thoughts; the extrovert must learn to sit back and listen.
Groups that carry on working together for long periods develop their own alchemy, as members share experiences and learn to trust one another. Wolton talks of women giving each other, “messages of strength and encouragement.” Clinton describes seeing men be really tender to one another as defences start to come down.
Groups vary in whether they wish their projects to culminate in some form of performance or publication. For some, their writing can be deeply personal – a way of communicating with a partner, say, or a parent, or just to understand themselves. For others, like refugees and prisoners, who feel marginalised and voiceless, producing a book or performing in public can be a powerful way of re-engaging with the world. To quote Sheila Hayman of Write to Life: “As one writer put it, the rapt attention of an audience is like a mirror in front of her, reassuring her that, after all the horror and degradation, she is still, powerfully and triumphantly, alive.”
Creating the Charmed Circle
So how do you approach facilitating a therapeutic writing group?
Gillie Bolton says the three essential principles to establish are:
Show respect for one another (which includes setting boundaries such as confidentiality and ensuring that responses and advice are constructive and focused on the writing);
Take responsibility for what you write and for the feedback you give;
Trust in the process. Don’t be afraid that people are going to lose all control. Trust that they will be strong enough to deal with whatever they access within themselves. And trust the group too.
Wolton describes it as a dance – at times standing back to allow a group wisdom to unfold, but remembering that you are still the leader. She finds it helpful that she’s a therapist as well as a writer. “Sometimes people can start to project their demons onto others in group, say. It’s good to be aware of group dynamics, so you’re not thrown when that sort of thing starts to happen.”
Clinton suggests that you should be open about your own experience, where and when it resonates. But use that sparingly! Bolton cautions that the facilitator should always be the last to comment on someone’s work. “Your silence gives others permission to respond.”
What if something traumatic emerges? How should you react?
“Stay with it,” Bolton says. “‘Hold’ the person in a supportive silence and allow the group to take care of them. Don’t try and move on or smooth it over. Give them time.”
Even in groups of people who have experienced trauma, therapeutic writing is not all about grief and suffering. “People share the most awful, unbearable things; then you get this amazing laughter. Whatever the circumstances, what will always come out is the joy.”
It’s important, though, not to let people go out of the room completely raw. Find an exercise that allows everyone to come down from the peak of emotion. Or just let them chat for a while about normal things.
Many facilitators find it essential to write about their own experiences of working with the groups. Clinton says, “You have to be able to deal with your own inner stuff. So you find yourself in a quiet space and write. It’s amazing how supportive and matter of fact your inner mentor can be.”
Many of those I interviewed found the role difficult to begin with, particularly when working with challenging groups. But the comment I heard again and again was, “This is the most satisfying work I have ever done.”
If you are interested in learning more about Therapeutic Writing, Words with Jam has set up a permanent resource page at www.wordswithjam.co.uk/resources with links to many further sources of information.
Hangman’s Stone
Marlene Brown was one of a number of fortunate students accepted onto the MA course in Creative Writing and Personal Development at the University of Sussex, run by Dr Celia Hunt – another early pioneer of therapeutic writing.
Marlene, whose first degree was in Psychology, had written stories and poems, and kept a journal since childhood.
“The opportunity to join the programme came at just the right time – I had been struggling with a number of personal issues and felt stuck. I knew I was lucky to get on the course: it was unique in its approach and had many more applicants than places.”
The MA course, which closed in 2010 following Dr Hunt’s retirement, primarily focused on a variety of methods for using creative writing as a developmental and therapeutic tool. Students were expected to combine a reflective practice alongside the development of an authentic writing voice and critical skills. It examined the origins of the sense of self and the nature of memory. How do we remember ourselves and is what we remember true? Students learned how it was possible to transcend traumatic or painful events by rewriting their own autobiographical narrative – telling a different truth.
Several years earlier, Marlene had witnessed a young woman commit suicide. The incident triggered episodes of depression and effectively silenced her writing voice. Prior to the MA she hadn’t felt able even to record the incident in her journal but afterwards could examine what had happened and deal with it creatively and positively.
“The MA was one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done. The nature of the course meant that often challenging personal material came up, and we were advised to have counselling at the same time, which I did. I passionately believe that creative writing is a powerful healing art.”
Marlene has been able share what she learned, working for a time with a group of people with mental health problems. She also teaches imaginative writing to primary school children and is currently working on a novel.
Her story Hangman’s Stone, written during the MA, is due to be published in an anthology by Leaf Books and is reproduced here with permission.
If you are interested in post graduate study of therapeutic writing, an MSc is now being offered at the Metanoia Institute.
Hangman’s Stone, by Marlene Brown
On fine summer evenings my young son, James, and I often walked our dog along the coastal path that runs between Brighton and Newhaven. One evening in late August 1999, I caught sight of the tip of a large block of stone on the cliff above as I waded out into the sea beyond the black and green rock-pools to retrieve the Frisbee the dog refused to fetch. I remember thinking the stone must have moved nearer the cliff edge because it hadn’t been visible the previous summer.
‘Hangman’s Stone’, as it is known locally, has a curious story attached to it: more than a hundred years ago, a man from Saltdean stole a sheep, which he controlled with a rope around its neck. He tried to lead it but it grew fractious, so he hoisted the sheep onto his shoulders and carried it. When he reached the stone he stopped to rest and began to lower the sheep from his back, but it struggled and slid off the stone, drawing the rope tightly across the sheep-stealer’s throat. He was found dead on the cliff top next morning but the sheep was still alive, tethered by the rope to the ‘hanged’ man.
I’m not sure now why I looked up to the cliff top - whether some movement caught my eye or a vague premonition caused a stirring of unease. Perhaps I simply imagine this now with hindsight. I could see a group of teenagers cooking on their portable barbeque in a small sheltered cove. A fluorescent yellow kite, tied to a half-submerged, rusty sewage outlet pipe, hung forgotten in the blue sky. There was no one else around except for a couple of cyclists turning the point at Ovingdean. It was about 6 o’clock in the evening – teatime - and the tide was returning slowly up the beach.
James ran along the shingle with the dog and I climbed the steps to the broad expanse of concrete that snakes along that stretch of coast. My bare legs were brown from the long, hot summer and my toes flecked with grey cement dust. I was admiring my feet when I heard the sound: not loud; a kind of muffled thud. As a matter of fact, it’s that sound I can recall most clearly; can hear again if I close my eyes, but it’s the one thing I can’t describe with words. Anyway, I looked back and just a few yards behind me on the concrete path was a brown bundle. I shaded my eyes, peering up to the cliff top - almost vertical, the white chalk dazzling in the late sun – and down again. Everything stood still, hovering in a timeless place of absolute silence where the heart freezes. Then everything speeded up. I ran toward the bundle, the cyclists who seemed so far away began racing toward me and I shouted to James to stay where he was, on the beach, with the dog.
It was a woman, face down, on the concrete. I knelt beside her and heard words coming from inside the thick, brown hair that flowed down her back and pooled onto the concrete with her blood. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, even though I put my ear as close as possible to her face. I said inadequate things like ‘I’m here’, and ‘You’re not alone’. Later, the Coroner told me the woman would have been unable to speak: what I heard were noises made by the lungs as they expel air during the dying process. I didn’t believe her.
I stared in horror as my mind urged, ‘Run away. Run away.’ I was terrified my son would follow me up the steps – my overwhelming desire to protect him struggled against my instinct to remain with the dying woman. I wanted to gather her in my arms but was afraid to touch her. I tried to gently straighten her dress, covering her underwear, shielding her final vulnerability and noticed, with infinite sadness, that she had lost one of her brown t-bar sandals in the fall. I took her hand splayed on the cruel concrete and stroked her back through the rough brown wool of her cardigan, which had seen better days. Gradually her sounds became deeper and more guttural, then ceased altogether.
After the inquest, I discovered her name was Hayley and she was 21 years old. Among so many other, more important things I would never know about her, she was a drug addict and it was not the first time she had climbed onto Hangman’s Stone in the belief that if she launched herself off it, she would fly as effortlessly and gracefully as the terns and gulls that nest in the cliff face below.
In the days that followed I retreated into myself, drinking copious amounts of wine, learning the Latin names of all the plants in my garden whilst watching them die of neglect. It was as if I had absorbed what I had seen, recording it in every cell of my body.
Eventually I found the courage to walk the cliff path again, but was distressed to find I was unsure of the spot. Removed by the Council, Hangman’s Stone lay amongst the groynes and rocky sea defences on the beach, its majesty diminished; chivvied by waves, it will eventually become a pebble, a grain of sand and then nothing. I leaned against the stone, unafraid, while the sea tugged at my legs, the smell of salt and weed rising from the warmed rocks. I left a rose upon it for the tide to take.
Even though there are stretches of time when I do not re-live my experience, I can’t help but think, out of that moment on a summer afternoon, the rest of my life took shape. And I believe that nothing truly happens in the past or future, for there is only here and now and all is simply a matter of perspective.
Watching Petals Fall, by Geves Lafosse
The first time I had my heart broken, I walked into a New York stationery outlet and bought myself an A4 spiral-bound notebook, and a strong-nibbed pen. I was backpacking around America – in fact the boy who had just dumped me was the real reason I was here. Page after furious page I scribbled and after each occasion that I wrote I felt calmer, clearer, and ready to board another Greyhound bus. In the years afterwards came a predictable litany of heartbreaks until finally, I met my husband. It was a happy time. We produced baby after baby but then while pregnant with number four, our three-year old daughter was diagnosed with leukaemia.
Juliette died nineteen months later, and all at once no previous pain was relevant. With Steph back at work, I was alone with three young children and a grief I thought would drown me. I started to write again. At naptimes or during nursery mornings I would shut my bedroom door and give in to a stream of anger, pain and a carnal desire to hold my daughter again. I wanted to be where she was. In other words, I wrote what I could never say out loud. Screaming my feelings on paper made possible the pleasantries with other mothers at the school gate. Purged of the most debilitating thoughts, I could still look after my children and not succumb to a paralysing sense of how futile it all was. It allowed me to function.
During the madness of those early months I was afraid I would forget Juliette. In my diary I started to jot down memories, desperate little snapshots in which I tried to capture her essence. Each sketch I managed to record comforted me, and made my daughter feel less ‘gone.’ After a year, I’d amassed a lot of words. I decided to set out the story of Juliette’s life, so that her siblings would have my memories to add to their own. Arranging the words into some kind of order was a rhythmic task which distracted me from the worst of grief. My writing developed a new purpose.
The longer I wrote, the better I could see how far I’d come since we first lost Juliette. The story inadvertently documented how as a family we had survived and how we’d found we could be happy again. It had morphed into a hopeful testament that I wanted to share. Although it was often painful to write, completing Watching Petals Fall was one of the proudest moments of my life.
With hindsight, I think I believed that writing Juliette’s story would somehow contain it; I could shelve it, stop grieving and move on. However, a little over a year ago I suffered a breakdown. In the confusion of depression I started writing a blog. Like the words I poured out as a teenager and again after Juliette died, I’ve found the simple act of describing what I feel to be powerfully therapeutic. Drawing emotions from the tangled mess in my head and giving them a name, seems to limit their power to overwhelm me. I understand now what losing my daughter means at this point in my life. A year of introspective writing and looking backwards has given me the strength but above all, the enthusiasm to go forwards.
Different Cultures One World
When I write about myself
I am like the ink in an
empty cartridge
trying to write on flimsy tissue paper.
The
line is faint, I try my best
but it vanishes.
Ibtisam Al-Farah (Yemen)
Sheffield is one of many cities around the UK to which refugees are dispersed by the Home Office. Women from countries such as Pakistan, Zimbabwe, Sudan, Eritrea, Yemen, Afghanistan and Cameroon find themselves making new lives here in this Yorkshire steel town.
The book Different Cultures. One World. Women’s Voices from South Yorkshire came about, ironically, because the funding for the Refugee Women’s Development Project was running out. The women involved – volunteers and asylum seekers from the Northern Refugee Centre – didn’t want the project simply to come to a dead halt.
To begin with, the idea was to produce a cook book featuring recipes from all the countries the women represented. But it soon became clear that the abundance of talent within the group deserved a wider chance of expression. The group also recognised the therapeutic value of allowing the women to tell their own stories.
The poet and therapist River Wolton was asked to run a series of creative writing workshops. Twenty women from thirteen countries took part, some coming regularly and some attending perhaps only one workshop. Some needed help to scribe their work; others wrote in their own languages and then were helped with translation. Altogether, they had four months to generate material, edit it and produce the book – something which piled on the pressure, but also gave the project a tremendous energy.
The result is achingly beautiful. It mixes poetry and prose from individual writers with group poems, recipes, and blank pages that invite the reader to record their own thoughts.
The book was launched in October 2010 as part of Sheffield’s Off the Shelf Literary Festival. Supported by the Ice and Fire Theatre Company, the women gave a live performance of the group poem, Recipe for a Better World for Women:
Ingredients:
A happy atmosphere, where women are cooking, singing and writing together
100,000,000 tonnes of love
Lots of hugs
Happiness without end
Sharing
500 drops of friendship
500 cupfuls of family
100 doses of respect
50 kilos of equality
0 kilos of war
Method
Mix together hugs and love
Fold in friendship
Drain off any war and violence against women
Grind together respect and equality and add to the mix
Switch off what’s happened before in your life and dry off the tears
Sprinkle with optimism
Add a dash of stress-free
Bake in everlasting happiness
Blow out the candle and go for it
Proceeds from the book, published by CAM Publications, are now funding the Development and Empowerment for Women’s Advancement (DEWA) Project. As Ibtisam Al-Farah puts it, ‘Women’s Voices was born out of the ending of Refugee Women’s Development Project. And in turn Women’s Voices has given birth to DEWA.’ With the ending of almost every other form of funding for their work, the proceeds from the book are a vital lifeline.
If you would like to buy a copy of Women’s Voices, please send a cheque for £9.99 to DEWA Project, c/o NRC, Scotia Works, Leadmill Road, Sheffield, S1 4SE
Poems and photograph first appeared in Different Cultures. One World. Women’s Voices from South Yorkshire, published by CAM Yorkshire, 2010. Reproduced here with the kind permission of the Development and Empowerment for Women’s Advancement (DEWA) Project.
‘In the Museum of My Life’ Competition
What five objects would you have in the Museum of Your Life? Think about colour, shape, size, sound, texture, smell; who gave them to you, what they are used for and what stories they could tell. Write a poem or piece of short prose and email it to kat@wordswithjam.co.uk. We will share your entries with the DEWA women’s project, and the best entry will win a copy of ‘Women’s Voices’.