Persons! I had a technical failure yesterday, the like of which I haven’t seen in a long time. This meant I couldn’t bring you a full entry.
I was at my weekly Tuesday writing group as usual. The Internet can be dodgy there, but it normally connects after a few tries and/or a reboot. This time, my laptop was having none of it, so I tapped out a short entry on the Jetpack app briefly explaining the situation.
However, it’s another literary group I want to talk about today. Long-term readers will know about Hotchpotch, which is a monthly open-mic primarily aimed at writers, where members can sign up for five-minute slots. I didn’t set up the group, but when I took over in 2015, it had already existed for five years.
One week ago, at the last meeting, I announced my intention to step down from running it after nine years and pass it on to Eilidh, who’s been assisting for well over a year. We’ve taken a couple of months to discuss how we would make the transition, and that process will continue into our next event in October.
The reason I chose this time is not because Hotchpotch is in a bad way. It’s arguably the most streamlined and consistent it’s ever been, and it’s precisely because it’s so strong that I feel able to step back from it in favour of new projects.
I’ve had a technical failure today like nothing I’ve ever had, with my laptop failing to connect to the Internet since lunchtime.
As such, I’ve had to bash this out quickly on my phone, and I’m not going to be able to type out everything I want to. As such, I’ll aim to put a full entry out by 8pm tomorrow.
For many years, I was involved with National Novel Writing Month; for brevity, we’ll use its diminutives NaNoWriMo or NaNo. We gathered such an enthusiastic group that we started running weekly meet-ups from 2015, even outside the novel-writing challenge of November.
Six months ago, there were a couple of scandals. The first was when a member of staff in California stood down after making a racist comment about a colleague. Separately, the organisation was slow to remove a forum moderator who was sending inappropriate material to minors. You can read the full reasons in the entry from March 2024.
After this, it was a relatively simple decision for my fellow organiser and I to withdraw our affiliation and continue as an independent group. In my view, this group is now much more streamlined while keeping the experience much the same for members.
Then over the last couple of weeks, NaNo has faced another backlash, this time over their implicit approval of members using artificial intelligence in their projects. Literary news rarely makes it to mainstream outlets, but the New York Times and Wired both reported the story.
The statement from NaNo was a long and rambling piece, but the most widely reported passage was:
We also want to be clear in our belief that the categorical condemnation of Artificial Intelligence has classist and ableist undertones, and that questions around the use of AI tie to questions around privilege.
This statement has now been somewhat retracted, but not before several board members resigned and partnership organisations considered whether to continue their involvement.
It’s not just the message that disappoints me, but the tone of it. The organisation I joined in 2010 would never have been so confrontational. The organisation I knew would have considered the question carefully and then addressed it with good grace and humour, reminding members of their core values.
I’ve imagined below how they might have phrased their statement.
We recognise there are strong feelings in the writing community at large about the use of artificial intelligence software, both in favor of its use and against. As NaNoWriMo is self-guided, we can’t stop you from using such software to craft your novel. However, we feel typing or writing each word by hand, day after day, is more in-keeping with the spirit of the challenge.
By ditching the attitude problem, isn’t it so much more pleasant to read? You can also bet the old NaNo would have responded to any feedback in a measured way. Its new version has fallen into the same pattern of making brash statements and then backing down but without apologising.
The next test of NaNo in its current form will be the main November challenge.
If the current organisation manages to scrape through the next three months without involvement in any other newsworthy events, then even I concede it stands a chance of surviving until 2025 and beyond. However, it will almost certainly be with a much-reduced membership who will be watching the situation carefully.
If something else happens to rock the boat during that time, I reckon that’s the end of NaNo as an organisation.
Nobody asked me, but I’d recommend National Novel Writing Month announces a voluntary winding up of operations in December. This would allow members to complete one last novel, to download their data from the website, and to end the organisation in a relatively neat manner.
But that won’t happen because any good grace and self-awareness has now vanished from National Novel Writing Month.
For the last couple of months, I’ve been working on a pet project. Now the proposal has been accepted and advertised, I’m finally at liberty to tell the public.
Since 2021, Sweet Venues has organised the Dundee Fringe. Like its Edinburgh counterpart, the organisers don’t run the shows themselves, but provide the venue and invite performers to apply for slots. In previous years, I’ve run a game show, but this time around, it was time for something different.
In fact, I already had a solid idea with pal who shares a similar sense of humour. One of our recurring jokes was to talk about organising a tour of Dundee but telling tourists absolute nonsense about the city instead of facts.
I half-seriously wondered whether we could actually make this happen, even as a one-off event. Then when Sweet Venues put out the call for performers, the final piece of the puzzle fell into place. We didn’t need to take anyone around the city; using just a projector, the city could come to them.
Just before I made the application, I started by pulling together a presentation, making sure my pal was willing to co-host. We held our first rehearsal at the weekend, ironing out a few flaws in the script and making sure the technical side worked without fail.
I’ve been unwell for the last five days or so. It’s been frustrating in many ways, having to stay in the house most of the time. On the other hand, it’s given me the impetus to work on some writing.
The work referenced in this entry was published under a pseudonym on a well-known website. For the avoidance of doubt, I’m still not at a stage where I wish to claim ownership of this, so the references to the plot will be vague.
A year ago this month, I finished writing a series that was supposed to be a one-off but ended up as 24 parts. I was partially spurred on by the positive reaction to the previous parts, plus I was able to take the existing characters to different locations where they met new characters, which generated new plot points.
In the intervening time, I’d had another promising central idea plus a few unused plot points that couldn’t be put into the first series. I then spent some time figuring out how to differentiate the two universes.
In April, the elements fell into place and I published a new story on the same website. I made it clear this was not related to the previous series, but I did believe there would be a second part, so I left the ending open enough to allow for that.
And that’s what I’ve been working on while I’ve been in the house. I think this series will be five parts long, so significantly shorter than the first series, but I don’t yet know where this will take me next.
Over the last couple of days, Creative Scotland has announced the closure of its Open Fund for Individuals.
In short, the decision has been taken because the Scottish Government were unable to confirm the release of £6.6m in the Grant-in-Aid budget. There is a full statement about the closure on their website including the deadline for all applications: 2pm on Friday 30 August.
As the closure has only just been announced, the long-term effects have yet to be seen. The topic has dominated my recent conversations with other organisers. One possible outcome is that it will be more difficult for artists to host riskier solo events, and instead prompt them to join established companies who might be less willing to take risks.
I’ve been fortunate in my projects that I’ve never needed to apply for funding. Yet having this avenue cut off potentially limits the scale of my future endeavours. I hope next year’s budget brings a more favourable result.
I make a point of seeing at least one show at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival every year. My first one was yesterday, titled The Greatest Literary Beef of the 21st Century, hosted by Ross McCleary and Stefan Mohamed.
While I’m only familiar with Stefan by association, I’ve known Ross for a couple of years now. He has a highly surreal sense of humour often centres around highlighting a concept and workshopping possible ways to make it funnier, with a lot of help from his online followers, many of whom were in the audience.
This show followed the surreal route. It took the form of the two poets exchanging paper letters to intentionally create a feud between them both. It benefitted from its brevity, with the show itself restricted to just one 40-minute performance rather than a multi-day run. There was also a donation bucket offered at the end, so the audience could choose how much to give, if at all.
I’ve always been particularly attracted to works that are a one-off rather than part of a series or serial. For instance, one of my favourite books is the standalone Wired Love by Ella Cheever Thayer, while I don’t think Spike Jonze is likely to direct a sequel to one of my favourite films, Being John Malkovich.
I’m going back to the Fringe over the coming days, so I hope to see more off-one bangers while I’m there.
About a month ago, Speculative Books told me they would be publishing one of my poems in September, and I look forward to attending the launch. On the other hand, I subscribe to Writing Magazine, but there are a pile of unopened copies in my bedroom.
A couple of days ago, on a whim, I decided to open the latest one. I used to read the articles, but now I flip straight to the publishing opportunities, considering each one on its merits.
For starters, I discount any competitions or pay-to-publish schemes. This extends to those publishers that offer no payment nor even a copy of the book. Sometimes an opportunity seems legit on the surface, but the description on the website is unclear, self-contradictory or occasionally unhinged. One site was even blocked by my VPN as a threat, so that was soon dismissed.
From that magazine, I found a handful of possible publishers. In one case, I even had a story ready to go. In another case, I need to wait until the next submission window opens, but that’s clearly marked in my diary.
Now I need to find the time to go through the rest of the magazines and see who’s still accepting pieces after all these months.
It’s probably no surprise to regular readers that I’m not a full-time writer. Rather, my main income is from an office job. More accurately, I’m expected to be in the office for two days, with the other three at home.
While I’m at home, I like to listen to YouTube videos, particularly factual and educational ones. Since I started doing this, I’ve become more choosy about the types of videos I like and dislike.
For a start, I need audible narration rather than music and captions. I’ll be looking mainly at my work laptop and it’s not practical to turn to another screen every few seconds to find what I’ve missed. I also find it difficult to listen to synthesised narration; it has to be done by a person if they want my attention.
I have two particular go-to channels that fit this criteria. Firstly, I’ve long been a fan of Tom Scott, who’s now moved on from educational videos to focus on a gameshow called Lateral. Secondly is The Rest is Entertainment, where Richard Osman and Marina Hyde discuss show business, both in front of the camera and behind.
Next, while I don’t travel much in real life, I do it vicariously through channels such as Emma Cruises and Tips for Travellers, who prefer budget and luxury cruises respectively. Conversely, Ruth Aisling and Tom the Taxi Driver like to drive around, albeit in very different places. Jago Hazzard and Geoff Marshall travel on trains, whereas Mentour Pilot – that’s Mentour, not Mentor – talks through aircraft accidents in a way that doesn’t make you want to give up flying.
The connection between this list is that these creators know their subjects inside-out and present them clearly and factually. On the back of these, I’ve reasonably been shown suggestions for other similar channels, with mixed results.
Tom Scott indirectly led me to Wendover Productions who make 20-minute educational videos about all sorts of subjects, plus five-minute versions for smaller topics. On the other hand, watching Mentour Pilot routinely brings up 74 Gear. Both creators are equally qualified aviators, but 74 Gear tends to comment and respond to viral videos in an aggressive manner that I don’t relate to.
There is, however, one exception in the commentary genre, and that’s Gabi Belle, who does it with a lot of humour and insight. She also appears to be madly in love with Gordon Ramsay’s projects. It also took me a while to warm up to Pierogi and Kitboga who go after phone scammers, but I’ve learnt that both have had elderly relatives lose money this way and they don’t want anyone else to fall victim.
This is only a representative sample of my taste, but they all help the working day pass that little more enjoyably.
When you’re a writer, people sometimes think stationery would make a great gift. In general, this is a thoughtful gesture. However, I now have too much of it.
My stationery lives in two plastic boxes on my bookshelf. Put together, they have roughly the total volume of a medium-sized cabin bag.
The upper box contains mainly pens, pencils, erasers, Tipp-Ex, glue sticks and similar items, plus my Dymo label-maker. The lower box is a store for paper, notepads and envelopes.
Despite most of my work beginning as pencil on paper, I find I don’t use very much of it at any one time, so it largely sits there untouched. I’m also not one of those writers who doesn’t want to spoil a new notebook by writing in it. If it’s in the box, it’s there to be used. Envelopes are especially a problem. I sometimes find I need just one in a particular size, but I can only find multi-packs, so there are spares left over.
I have given away bits and pieces to pals over time, but the amount I have never seems to diminish. However, I don’t want to give away the whole lot because it’s handy to have around when I do need it.
Gavin Cameron 