Simon Whaley’s Business of Writing: December 2023 - Experience is your Uniqueness
Welcome to my December newsletter.
If you’ve been celebrating Christmas, I hope you’ve had a good one. By the time you read this, I will be on my way home having spent the festive period in England’s beautiful Lake District.
I’ve been staying in the village of Grasmere, right in the heart of the Lake District National Park, where the poet William Wordsworth lived. Over the years, he resided in two properties here: Dove Cottage and Allan Bank. He also worshipped in the local church, St Oswald’s, and that’s where he and his family are buried.
The last time we stayed in Grasmere for Christmas, we noticed St Oswald’s church was holding a carol service on Christmas Eve at 6.30 pm. We decided we’d go and, as our accommodation was only a five-minute walk from the church we didn’t bother making our way there until 6.15 pm.
Ideally, we just wanted to sit at the back, sing the carols, enjoy the service, and soak up the atmosphere in the same building where William Wordsworth sang carols and worshipped.
When we arrived, the door was closed, so it was with some trepidation that we opened it. As we did so, we found the place was heaving! A church warden came up and greeted us.
“Come in! Come in! Welcome to St Oswald’s. Have you come for the carol service?”
“Yes,” we replied. I looked for some spare seats at the back of the church, but there were none.
“Follow me,” she cried. “I’ll find some seats for you.”
She led us to the pew right at the front. So much for sitting at the back, quietly!
As we took our seats, we could see the choir already seated in their positions. I couldn’t help but notice that one mature woman kept looking at her watch.
“She’s eager to get started,” my mother suggested.
I shook my head. “I’m not convinced. I think she wants a wee and is trying to decide if she’s got time.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped my Mum.
The female chorister kept looking at her watch and then appeared to make a decision. She put down her hymn book, then squeezed behind several other choristers, before making her way down the aisle.
“Told you,” I said. “She needs a wee.”
As 6.30 pm drew nearer, I kept looking down the aisle for the chorister to return. More and more people kept entering the church, and with no chairs or pews remaining, they were forced to stand in the aisles.
Eventually, I spotted the chorister making her way back up the aisle. “Here she comes,” I said.
Mum leaned closer. “She’s probably been nattering to a friend.”
At this point, the female chorister walked past us as she made her way back to the choir stalls. Unfortunately for her, her choir robe was now caught in the back of her underwear!
I looked at my Mum and grinned. “Told you!”
What has this little anecdote got to do with the business of writing? Well, it’s little episodes like this that we as writers can draw upon to add life and interest to our writing. Telling stories is a fundamental part of writing, even for non-fiction writers.
Many of my travel pieces include observations like these. Not only is it a great way to draw the reader in, but a story like this can be an interesting way to illustrate a point we’re making in our writing, too.
Looking forward, I believe stories are what will make us as writers (and, therefore, our writing businesses, stand out). Looking back, I think 2023 will be the year in which AI (artificial intelligence - not artificial insemination, as one of my farmer friends calls it) became mainstream.
I don’t know about you, but I’m getting a little exasperated about the way AI has been added to most computer programmes this year. My email programme comes with AI to help me sort the important from the less important, as well as offer suggested replies. (I’ve turned that facility off. I decide whose email is important, thank you!) My notes app even comes with AI and suggests into which folder it thinks each note should be placed. (Admittedly, that is frighteningly accurate.)
But, at the moment, the one thing AI can’t do is experience the world for itself and then share those experiences and stories. Which is where we come in as writers. This is how we’re going to differentiate ourselves from AI-produced content in the immediate future. (But I don’t doubt it won’t be long before AI can emulate this.)
For a laugh, I typed the following prompt into Microsoft’s Edge Chat:
Tell me about an experience you had at St Oswald's Church in Grasmere.
How did it reply?
Hello, this is Bing. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any personal experiences at St Oswald’s Church in Grasmere. I can only tell you what I know from the web. 😊
St Oswald’s Church is a historic and beautiful place of worship in the Lake District, Cumbria, England. It is dedicated to the 7th-century saint and king Oswald of Northumbria, who is said to have preached on the site.
The church dates from the 14th century, and has a distinctive double nave with a two-tier arcade and an open timber roof. The tower is castellated and has a sloping wall. The church has some medieval stained glass windows, and a carved pulpit in Arts and Crafts style.
You get my point!
Being a writer is not just about putting words down on the page. It’s about living life and having the experiences to write about.
I subscribe to Justin Cox’s newsletter. (Justin runs The Writing Cooperative publication on the Medium platform.) In his latest posting, he’s commented that going forward he’s only going to consider article submissions for The Writing Cooperative that draw upon the writer’s experience. And one of the reasons he cites is because it’s one way of reducing the risk of publishing AI-written material.
The publishing world is changing. But then, the publishing world has always been changing. Perhaps, if anything is changing, it’s the speed with which changes are happening.
To succeed in the business of writing, we’ll need to draw even further upon our experiences because that’s the best way to show our true selves in our work. Experiences are what shows we’re human.
Another newsletter I follow is Marianne Rosen’s Rewrite Today. In her latest post, Marianne shares Twelve Life Lessons from a Writer. What I particularly liked about this post in particular is her idea not to start anything until February.
Tradition has it that we start the New Year with a series of new goals, dreams, and aspirations, but, as Marianne suggests, it can be more beneficial to start these in February. Spend January thinking about them, and planning them (rather than five minutes to midnight on 31st December), but don’t start until February.
Marianne is also the author behind the wonderful Riverdell Saga, set in Ludlow, just like my Mortiforde Mysteries cosy crime series. If you’ve every read Mary Wesley’s The Camomile Lawn, then I think you’ll enjoy Marianne’s books.
Here’s hoping that 2024 will be a creative, productive, and prosperous year for you. And one full of experiences that will help you tell better stories that your readers will find more engaging than anything AI can produce.
I’ll leave you with a short video taken on a walk while I was away. I hadn’t planned on doing this particular walk. But then, you could say, that’s another story!
Until next year, keeeeeeeeeep writing!
Best wishes,
Simon