Post by Rhianna Saunders

On the 11th of November, the immensely talented Gwendoline Riley came to the University of Westminster for a Q&A and workshop. It was, for me, a truly inspiring afternoon, filled with discussion and affirmations. Gwendoline talked about how growing up she always had her head in a book, which I think resonated with most people in the room. We got to hear the story of how she was published after her tutor read something she’d written, and offered to put her in touch with an editor. I personally felt relieved after hearing her story about being published, as most people will tell you that it’s near on impossible to do it on your own. Gwendoline told us that as writers, we should read as much as we can, especially when it comes to the classics. I think, as students, it’s easy to get caught up in life and forget to read. But in order to hone our skills as writers, we need to read a whole range of literature, from the classics to the modern and all that comes in between.

In the second half of the session we focused on setting and place, where we picked apart extracts that Gwendoline had compiled, discussing what we liked and what we would possibly adapt for our own writing. She told us how she had ‘borrowed’ a paragraph from another book once, and worked on it until it was hers, and nothing of the borrowed paragraph remained. She told us that this helped her get through her writers block, and that it’s a technique she occasionally uses when she feels that she’s really stuck. I found this extremely useful, as writers block is something that I’m sure all writers have suffered with, at least once. I’ve tried a range of techniques to break down my writers block, but this was new to me.

As she really caught my attention with it, I decided to give Gwendoline’s technique a try. I picked up one of my favourite books, took the first paragraph, and started moulding it. It took a while, but after 20 minutes of solidly working on it, my block had faded and the paragraph was my own.

It was a pleasure to take part in such an in interesting and useful workshop, and I’m very much looking forward to reading her next novel, First Love, when it comes out.

Rhianna Saunders, 22 November 2016

Post by Cameron Sherwell

When it comes to creativity, it is tempting to seek affirmation. As a writer, seldom is there anything better than hearing your work praised. Fear of embarrassment, disapproval, or being told that, after so much effort, you’re not as good as you think you are, is common amongst creative writing students, and a constant source of anxiety. At best it strengthens our resolve, at worst it makes us transfer to economics.

For these reasons, it is tempting to search for dictums – commandments to worship at the altar of creativity – that let us know we’re doing something right. ‘Show don’t tell’, ‘less is more’, ‘write what you know’: these are “rules” all of us have looked to for guidance— rules that we often forget aren’t eternal truths. But Toby Litt won’t let us forget. In fact, in his guest lecture last week, he was adamant that we should break these rules. For Litt, greatness in writing means embodying the spirit of free-form jazz; it is all well and good to be competent, to have the formal elements down and play a melody, but competency isn’t enough. There has to be more. There has to be risk.

Awareness of the self is also crucial, and Litt suggests that studying your own reading habits is vital to understanding and improving yourself as a writer. At the end of the lecture, he proposed four tasks writers should undergo to become better acquainted with themselves: writing, reading, re-writing, and re-reading.

More than anything, Litt’s creative philosophy is individualistic. He doesn’t want you to write to better the world, he wants you to “write for yourself”. What I took away from his lecture was: only adhere when it suits you. If the pressure of being yourself is too much, be someone else. Write with a pseudonym. Write what you love. Write what is LIVE, and be open to the process of growth and transformation, because thinking that there’s nothing left to learn is the biggest pitfall of all. Competency is boring.

Cameron Sherwell,  7 November 2016