[Historical novelist Sara Sheridan is one of 26 writers with poems on display in the British Gallery of the Victoria and Albert Museum during London Design Week 2010. Here she writes about the innovative 26 organization that brings writers of all disciplines together to raise the profile of words.]
I first joined '26' in 2005. I was concerned about the inherent snobbery I encountered in some fields of writing and also, more generally, in the press. I've always felt that good writing does not have to be literary - that copywriters, journalists, mainstream authors, ghostwriters and advertising creatives have as much right to think of themselves as good writers as academics, poets or literary novelists. I had been introduced at a panel event at a book festival as a 'bestselling author' and the tone of that introduction had been derisory compared to the build-up the chairperson had given the other, more literary writers with whom I was appearing. Afterwards he came up and said, 'You're really quite interesting, you know.' 'What?' I teased him, 'not as interesting as the others, surely? And with so many people reading me!'
After that, the attitude I encountered at '26' was refreshingly egalitarian - anyone with an interest in words can join and once you've joined you can put yourself forward to take part in what I think are some of the most exciting projects for writers in the UK today. In my first month I was accepted to '26 Malts', which paired 26 writers and designers to create unique labels for specially selected Scotch Malt Whisky Society bottles. I wrote the least of all the participants - my bottle simply said 'Drink Me'. The resulting collection sold out quickly, spawned a book, and was exhibited at Scotland Day in New York, London Design Week and the HQ of Louis Vuitton in Paris. More importantly, I met some interesting writers from all walks - people whose judgement I trust and whose creativity I respect. Writing is such a solitary occupation that it takes a long time to build up a group of professional peers with whom you genuinely identify.
A couple of years later I spotted 'The Children's Book Project', which was developed in association with Faber and London College of Communication. Writers and student illustrators worked together to explore new possibilities in storytelling for children. After the project was over, the story I wrote, 'I'm Me', was bought by Chicken House and has since been re-illustrated by professional artist Margaret Chamberlain. It will be published in the UK and USA next year as a picture book. Writing a story for illustration was a challenge and I learnt a lot during this project. In the industry, trying out new genres is not always encouraged but what I've discovered is that as a writer, you learn a lot when you try new things and even if you stick with one main genre, a jaunt outside that can bring new skills to the main body of your work.
Again, at a book festival, a chairperson in an event likened ghostwriting to 'prostitution'. I've ghostwritten – actually once I ghostwrote for a prostitute – and the two processes honestly aren't at all alike! Working in non-fiction and with non-fiction editors has been one of the biggest learning curves I've embarked upon. When I delivered my latest book (Secret of the Sands, an historical novel that will be out in February 2011, published by HarperCollins), my editor commented on how clean the copy was. That's down to having worked with non-fiction editors during ghostwriting projects. These mass-market books are worth a fortune to publishing houses and they put their most exacting editors on the case.
This summer (2010) I spotted the 26Treasures project: the idea was to write a response to historical objects in the V&A and create a treasure trail through the museum that invites visitors to consider historic objects in new ways. As an historical novelist, the idea was immediately appealing to me. I have a convoluted relationship with history – my father was an antique dealer and I was brought up feeling closely connected with historic objects. When I was a kid, we used to tell stories about who had owned the rings and candlesticks in my father's window and how they'd come to be in his shop. I don't normally write poetry, but we were allowed only 62 words for this project so poetry seemed the natural form with which to experiment. I loved the ceramic plate I was assigned, a marriage gift from Southwark 1653 with a Garden of Eden scene – an apple tree, Adam, Eve and the snake. I was struck by the idea that this plate is probably the only possession that was owned by the couple and is still in existence, snaking its way through history, representing temptation. What I wondered, will be left of my life in 400 years and will it be displayed in a museum? The resulting poem 'On A Plate' is for view in the V&A from 18 to 26 September.
This means that in the last year, I'll have written an historical novel, a poem, sundry websites, blogs and brochures, edited a non-fiction book on private commission and written mainstream journalism, sometimes under the cover of an assumed name. I dread to think what the worthies will make of that! (Sara Sheridan)