Jenny Bradley Writer

  So 'Sibling Poets', the book written with my brother Jonathan, is finally out of the door. It is already on web-sites for pre-order (well done Waterstones for being first) and soon a wonderful box of books with my name on the front will appear at my door. The day after we signed off the proofs I went into a post book slump. I half expected it after the pressure and constant to-ing and fro-ing over detail and correction and further proof reading and correction in what felt like a never ending cycle.  We'd finally made it. To that pause between proof read and publication. I felt tired, listless and as though I would never write anything again, a most unusual state for me.  One day, I thought, of tea and rest and soothing chores, one day of not thinking about the book and what needed doing, and I would be back to normal, whatever that is.  It wasn't as though I had nothing to write. I have a new collection of poems that needs organising and forming into a book. I have...

What have I learned whilst proof reading today? Mainly, that sea salt and balsamic vinegar (from Modena, no less) crisps do not go well, if at all, with lemon, ginger and manuka honey tea.  To be fair, I probably knew this already. However the deep concentration needed to proof read made me briefly forget when my body told me it was thirsty and also, that it needed salt. Too many cups of normal tea (together with that well known combination of chocolate - a marriage made in the place where angels sing and dance) and a focus on the words on screen, led me, temporarily, not to think about anything else. The upshot is I have finished half a huge packet of salty crisps but not the lemon, ginger and manuka honey tea, and am now even more thirsty.  So, apart from  mismatched beverages and edibles? Hmmm... that it feels a bit like being stuck in a long motorway traffic queue, inching forward and then stopping again. And when you switch lanes hoping to better your ability to move...

Communication is an art fraught with difficulties. You think you have made things as clear as that unspoilt stream high in the New Zealand mountains. Turns out, you haven't. Working on the latest book 'Sibling Poets' with big brother Jonathan, this has happened to both of us. After sending the original text and layout, we discover that for some reason our publisher - a very experienced and well thought of publishing house - has attached what we intended as the first page to the introduction. Several emails later, we accept a compromise.  I will attempt to explain. Our book is a collection of fifty poems, in pairs, one by yours truly and the other by big brother. Each pair of poems is preceded by a short piece of text introducing and explaining how these poems fit with the story of our lives. It is arranged in chronological order.  Thus we needed a short piece of text before the first pair of poems that was not part of the introduction.  Publishing convention is that page ...

Ah, the mysteries of style pages! How do you tell a graphic designer how you want your book to look?  It's a bit like telling a hairdresser what style hair you want. It never quite seems to look how you expect even if you have a picture of what you want. Your hair is different from the model's and anyway, you're probably 30 years older. (And then try repeating the new style at home once you wash you hair!). So it is with style pages. I have an idea in my head. I'd like it to look something like 'book x' but when the pages come back they look nothing like. My interpretation and theirs is clearly very different, or maybe it's like my hair, the unruly words won't be squashed into shape.  It's an iterative process requiring goodwill and patience on both sides. Until one day, the style pages arrive and suddenly, it looks like the book - more or less - you had in mind. Exciting! 

I've discovered I need to keep creating while I am putting a book together. The pressure of a deadline, things not going to plan (do they ever?), things you can't find, the frustration when the internet goes down or your file freezes mid-sentence, all these annoyances fade to nothing when I'm sitting by the sea with a pen in my hand. It renews, re-energises, speaks to my soul, to the part of me that nurtures and protects the rest of me.