The writers that shaped me

As that meme says, WOMEN!

A couple of weeks ago, I submitted the manuscript of my first novel to my editor. I am now in that strange sort of limbo where I have offered up my firstborn, and I’m waiting to hear if she passed muster.

There will be changes, of course. I am as prepared for them as any fledgling author and former magazine editor can be. I am excited beyond belief, painfully eager to get it out in the world and also absolutely TERRIFIED. Every day I feel a new emotion about it - awe at my great luck, fear it won’t be good enough, raging enthusiasm and indefatigable hope.

The process, so far, has been a wonderful one. I have enjoyed it so much. But in writing a novel, I found it very, very difficult to focus on reading other people’s work for the duration. I couldn’t dive in to a new work of fiction for fear of my own work being corrupted or subconscious plagiarism. But reading is a huge part of my life, a comfort activity. So I turned, as I do time and time again, to my favourites.

I am someone that can re-read a novel countless times. I can also rewatch films and tv series, and actually take great pleasure in doing so. This is apparently a characteristic of an anxious personality; I like already being familiar with a plot, having a good idea of what will happen. I’ve previously written about my favourite authors, but this newsletter is about more than book recommendations. This is about the female writers who taught me to write.

It all began with Judy Blume. The subject of a new Amazon Prime documentary, she’s back in the spotlight as her classic 70s novel Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret has been adapted for the big screen. By the time I came to her work in the 90s, it wasn’t so scandalous anymore. But when her young adult novels were released, they were seen as both educational and inappropriate, depending on your viewpoint. Judy was radical in her honesty with children, and they related to her strongly because she was talking to them as a peer.

I wouldn’t realise it for a long time, but this was the same attitude I had in writing for Irish teenagers at KISS Magazine. Nothing was off limits, honesty was key and it was always in a big sisterly tone. Whether we were discussing masturbation, the hair down there or first kisses, there was never any judgement. I learned this from Judy. Her openness with kids helped generations of liberal parents tell their kids the truth about their changing bodies, sexual politics, death, love and heartbreak.

Then came beloved Marian Keyes. I think I picked up my mother’s copy of Rachel’s Holiday one summer evening when I was 12. Again, not exactly appropriate material for a child, but I was incredibly precocious and had already tired of “appropriate” material for my age group. Mam knew I’d ask her about anything I didn’t understand because we had that kind of relationship - she told me about periods when I was eight - but in fairness, so much of it went over my head.

Marian Keyes’ work has been a comfort, a friend, a mentor and an education to me ever since. I think every Irish female writer of my generation owes her a debt of gratitude. She’s as wonderful in person as you want her to be, and she taught me that Irish-isms can be international, that characters can be flawed, that first-person writing is relatable.

My desk as I write this, with my mantra for life and work looking right at me

And then there was Nora. I came to Madame Ephron first of all through her films - When Harry Met Sally blew my tiny mind the first time I saw it in college. Then I read everything she’s ever written, from her essays to her books, fiction and non, screenplays and poems. She is the person I most want to emulate - supremely confident in everything she puts forth, desperately funny in the face of calamity, frighteningly astute and human. If you haven’t watched the documentary her son Jacob Bernstein made about Nora, it’s on Sky and it’s called Everything Is Copy - a mantra I live and write by.

Lastly, there is Jackie Collins. I came across a dog-eared paperback by the pool when I was in Menorca aged 14. I was drawn in by the leopard on the cover, the sexy exclamation point in the title, Thrill! Then I was mortified and indeed thrilled by the filth I encountered inside, the inside look at the showbiz world and the god damn GLAMOUR of it all. I devoured her back catalogue, and was particularly enchanted by how sweeping her narratives were, spanning decades and lifetimes.

Every one of these women has been an influence not just on my writing, but on my life. They presented strong female characters even when they were writing in a time when women barely had autonomy. They have shaped my worldview, shown me that we are not defined by our mistakes or weaknesses, even described the kind of relationships I would come to desire. They may not have known they were doing this, or maybe they knew well.

If you want to be a good writer, you have to be a reader first. You have to have a vivid imagination, but also a strong sense of self. Some writers are brilliant at world building, at fantasy and science fiction. Some are amazing at realism, warts and all. What these women taught me was relatability, even in the most insane situations. My god, I hope I’ve done them justice. Watch this space!