Amazing Arvon - The Difference A Week Can Make

Two weeks ago I went on a “Writing For Young Adults” Arvon Foundation course.  It's still pretty much impossible to talk about the incredible week I had there without sounding totally OTT and pathetically sycophantic. I'm good at OTT, so I don't mind that accusation, but I detest sycophancy.  But, credit where it's due, so I'll risk it!

This is just an overview or taster really - there’s so much to share from it that I’ll be unpacking it for you in blog posts for weeks to come :-)

If I'm completely honest with you then it didn't always feel like the most amazing week of my life at the time. Events like that quickly and massively wear me out, resulting in lots of triggers being pressed.  There were times when I was overwhelmed by inadequacy and felt like a complete fraud.
 
But it WAS amazing and there were three key factors that made it so. The first was simply the fact that I was staying in a beautiful country house, in an idyllic setting, with fantastic food that I didn't have to make and nothing to do for the week but concentrate on writing!

Gorgeous Lumb Bank (thanks to Dorthe Andersen)

The beautiful view from my bedroom window!

The second factor was the amazing tutors. When I'd first discovered the course I was gobsmacked that such big successful authors as Melvin Burgess, Lucy Christopher and Meg Rosoff were doing it.  More detail on them in future posts, but they were fantastic!   They gave so much of themselves – their insights, experience, knowledge, encouragement, energy and time.  They went far above and beyond what I'd expected of them. They weren't just teaching a course, they were totally WITH us. I was super impressed.

The workshops were where the most condensed learning took place and over the week we looked primarily at voice, plot, setting and using objects to help you connect with a scene or situation.  I learnt so much in each of these that they’re gonna need their own blog post (or two!) too - there are plenty of funny stories and insights to share from them :-)

The downside of learning about good writing is that it made me more and more aware of how much my writing could be improved.  Add to that overwhelming feelings of inadequacy caused by hearing others read out amazing pieces of work and you’ll understand why it was such an emotional, challenging and cathartic time as well as amazing (although none of those things are mutually exclusive).  All these struggles are being fast forgotten though, and I’m just increasingly aware of the huge value of what I've learnt and the impact it's already having on my writing.

The final great factor was meeting 15 other wannabe YA writers. Everyone was really friendly and interesting - I never minded who I sat next to in workshops, meals or social times. No cliques formed.  Naturally there were people I got on particularly well with and I'll definitely be keeping in touch with them, not least to encourage and cheer them on in their writing journeys!  It's very exciting to think that one day - hopefully in the not too distant future - I'll see a new YA book advertised that's written by one of my Arvon friends.

Everything I learnt and experienced in that week at Arvon will have positive repercussions in my writing for years to come.  I can’t recommend their courses highly enough – although I do now have the problem that any future courses I might attend couldn’t possibly be as amazing as this one!  If you’re serious about writing – or any other dream - then investing money in a good quality course is priceless.  If you find one you want to do then sell your TV, sell your car, sell your kidney, but make sure you find a way to do it :-)

Life Lesson From A River

My Arvon Foundation Writing for Young Adults course was last week.  It was incredible.  I’ll blog about it properly in the next post (or posts – I reckon there’s enough material in that experience to keep me in posts right up until Christmas easily).  Right now I’m still processing all that I learnt and experienced, as well as trying to work out how to write about it without overusing superlatives and OTT adjectives!

This is a post I wrote while I was there.  I thought it might be interesting/amusing to get an insight into my crazy philosophical mindset – how I love to overthink everything and turn it into some meaningful life lesson :-) 

I went walking one afternoon at Lumb Bank (Arvon’s centre in Hebden Bridge).  I was going to have a nap, but Melvin Burgess had scoffed at me* when I mentioned my afternoon’s objective!  So, wanting to prove that I wasn’t a wuss – and because it was ridiculous not to get some fresh air, exercise and enjoy this beautiful part of the country - I put my walking boots on and headed out before the clouds and rain settled in deeper.

The nearby crags had been recommended, but on my way there the call of the river was too strong, so I decided to seek that out instead.  I always worry about getting lost (especially without a map), but I was also up for a bit of an adventure.  It was easy-peasy though.  Around the lane, past a row of terraced houses and down the steps marked with a Public Footpath sign. 

The river’s roar was exhilarating, like it was having a good old cathartic shout.  It’s a noise that always releases any tension and forces me to have a deep sigh and relax. 

Every self-respecting river should have a path that runs alongside it.  I really hoped there was one so that I could stay next to it and enjoy it as long as possible.  I LOVE rivers.  I love how they crash along when they’re full and fast flowing – nothing is going to slow them down.  Determined, forceful, unrelenting.  I also love the way they meander when the water levels are lower, lazily babbling along without a care in the world.  But no matter how much water’s in them, I love the fact that they persist regardless of what obstacles get in their way.  They just keep moving and find a way around them.

I love a good philosophical lesson from nature ;-)

Finding a path looked hopeful to start with and off I went.  I figured that I wouldn’t be the only person that had ever wanted to take this route, and that even if there wasn’t an official path, a makeshift one would have been trampled through somewhere.

It was true for a while.  Until it got to the point when continuing meant walking along what might have been a path, but it was on a muddy precipice a few metres above the water.  If I mistimed my footing then I would go crashing down into the river at alarming speed.  I didn't want to get that close to it!  So I looked for another way round and went off piste a bit.  I headed up a fairly steep incline, aiming for what looked it might be a real path, when I slipped and slid down a bit again.  No harm done, apart from a mud-caked knee on my clean jeans (one wardrobe item out of action for the rest of the week).  I decided to abandon that route as getting back to the house completely covered in mud might draw a bit too much attention.

Retracing my steps I came to a fork.  The path I’d come up was on the right, an alternative route on the left.  I went left.  Yay, a real path!  Where on earth it was supposed to lead to, I have no idea.  As it petered out I had to duck under half felled trees and climb over dry stone walls to reach a “real” path.  I ended up back at the steps where I’d first found the river.  A complete loop.

Part of me was disappointed, but my philosophical musing brain was ecstatic!  Look how well this fits with your last blog post about ideas and not knowing which one to pursue.  You tried this path and that path, and even went off piste, and it didn’t work out, but you still enjoyed the walk, didn’t you? It was beautiful and where you wanted to spend time.  You got fresh air and exercise too.

So it doesn’t matter if the same happens with your writing now, does it?  If you go off on one idea and it doesn’t work out then try an alternative.  If you find that all your attempts to get somewhere with a story lead nowhere, then so what?  If you enjoyed what you were doing and got some more valuable writing experience out of the process, then it’s never gonna be a total waste of time and energy. 

Even though I ended up retracing my steps all the way back to Lumb Bank, rather than succeeding with my preferred option of a circular walk, I was glad I’d gone out.  I was also glad of the nap I had when I got back (sorry Melvin!), made all the sweeter and more deserved for the fresh air and exercise. 

*It was a gentle - and deserved - scoff, rather than a mean one.  Melvin Burgess was nowhere near as scary as I thought he would be.  More on that in future posts…