Writers: you have to become 'a bit of a tart'

Errol Flynn in Robin Hood

There’s a story right there in the title of Errol Flynn’s autobiography: My Wicked, Wicked Ways… And in a sense he has become as famous/infamous for his off-screen exploits as he has for his penchant for cinematic roles in tights.

At yesterday’s inaugural Market Rasen literary festival, ‘Wordfest’, I performed my poetic monologue Crash; the last thirty minutes of a life to a small audience in the 1849-built Court House (no longer used for legal pursuits), and then about 50-minutes later, spent a very pleasant hour in the Advocate Hotel in conversation and reading from An Irregular Piece of Sky, The Homelessness of a Child, not the Sonnets, Grimsby Docks, and Bound.

Feedback was great. Crash - delivered in pyjamas rather than tights! - was described by one person as '“a brilliant piece of work”, and the reading as “thoroughly enjoyable” by another. I even sold a few books. Perhaps not surprisingly my photograph/poem collection Grimsby Docks fared the best as Grimsby’s only a few miles up the road.

When performing at such events, you are as much on show as what you have written; I suppose that’s an obvious thing to say given we go into them armed only with our words. Indeed, we’re only there because of our words, so is it not natural to assume they are the only things in which our audience is interested?

Yet they have to be delivered. The writer becomes ‘the deliverer’, the interface between the words and their recipients. Deliver Crash without gusto, enthusiasm and emotion, and people will fall asleep; undertake a reading of poetry and prose without authenticity, without putting your self front and centre, and your message won’t get through.

Yes, people have come to hear the words (hear, not read), but they want to be entertained too.

All of that - the emotion, the authenticity - is the first part of needing to ‘be a tart’. (I actually used the phrase in the reading and was greeted with knowing nods of the head.) Yes, we are trying to sell our books, to get what we want to say across - about Grimsby Docks, for example - but people are more likely to buy a book if there’s an author connection with the potential purchaser. And word-of-mouth is so powerful. Such people are our allies!

The second aspect of ‘tartship’ is in not being afraid to say ‘yes’. As a result of yesterday’s sessions I was asked if I would be willing to give a talk/reading to two different local organisations, and also whether I would consider teaching on a creative writing course. Obviously the answer was ‘yes’ - mainly because I really enjoy doing those things, but also because they will give me access to new potential readers.

The selling of self.

Not an easy thing for most writers I know. I used to find reading terrifying - but now look at me: standing in front of strangers in my bottle-green tights posing with a bow-and-arrow.

Well, almost.

---