Insights for new writers: An Interview with Jonathan Hall

Co-Founder of Rise & Howl, Paula Boyle, sits down with author and playwright, Jonathan Hall; discussing insights and advice for new writers on how to get started.

About Jonathan

Author, playwright and Co-Chair of Script Yorkshire

• His first novel, A Spoonful of Murder (now a top seller on Amazon) is the first in a witty, amateur sleuth crime trilogy.

• Playwright: Numerous plays produced in theatres across the UK including an Edinburgh Fringe First winner, Sweet as you are.

• Radio Drama: Trust stars Julie Hesmondhalgh and can be found on BBC Radio 4.

• Co-chair of Script Yorkshire, a volunteer-run organisation supporting writers in creating stories for stage, screen and radio.

Where does one start, writing for theatre?

I think theatre writers need to immerse themselves in that world as much as they can by going to see theatre, as well as reading theatre, theatre writing groups. The thing about theatre writing is it's one of the most difficult arts to realise, because to realise it you need a whole infrastructure. Even if it's a one-man show, a one-woman show, you need an actor, a director, a theatre, lights, sound, the environment, you need an audience. So there's a lot that’s involved in theatre writing. Sometimes you'll read a script, which is a film script, only it's theatre. I read one script and somebody ran across the room and jumped into a Land Rover; And you think, well, okay, how, how would that be realised? You need to develop stage craft. 

So you have an idea, what next?

Jonathan: Start flirting with it. You know like back in the day when you fell for  someone and you would start having thoughts and dreams about them. I have these little thoughts and dreams about ideas for writing- this mostly happens either when I've got another writing deadline , or early in the morning when I can’t sleep. What I've learned is to start writing down these thoughts and dreams, so this idea becomes a actual thing- something that's got physical pages about it, the essence of it is captured. Sometimes it never gets beyond  anything- and sometimes it grows.

What I’ve started doing in the last 18 months is to start exploring the ideas I have visually. Now, by that, I'm not an artist, but sometimes if  I've got an idea I do a little sketch of it and write relevant words around it, because ideas aren't always ready to be set in sentences or even notes.

Have you ever read Tove Jansson, The Moomins? There’s a book called Moominvalley in November, she wrote it after her mother died. I’ve heard it described as the wisest book about grieving ever written. It’s about these five characters who come to a valley in November looking for this family. And one of them has got a tune in his head, and the notes are lost in this valley somewhere, and he goes and sits and waits for the tune to come to him… It’s a really good analogy for the creative process. So that's what I start to do, I start to explore- and wait for the tune to come to me.

The other thing you need is to start to see your work coming to life, and there's so many layers of that before the play's even considered to be put on. One really helpful and useful thing is to have read-throughs, either face to face or Zoom. It’s useful because once you hear your work read, you then start to see where it works and where it needs to work and development. Because you don't write something brilliant the first time any more than you go, ‘dab, dab, dab, there's the Mona Lisa’, or ‘tap, tap, tap, there's Jane Eyre’.

Feedback can be overwhelming and conflicting, how do you manage that?

You are going to get lots of feedback. And you have to listen to every single bit of feedback, every bit, write it down. and then look at each bit and say, ‘Do I agree with it?’ Because some people automatically stonewall feedback because they're afraid of writing something that isn’t... you know, they don't want criticism. They want people to rubber stamp what they've written. So I would listen and always, within the feedback, there's one, two things that come out. I always get a lot of feedback on the radio, I do like six drafts. I got a load of feedback on the novel. I don't feel good unless people are pointing things out and I think, “yes, actually, that's right, that's right. I don't agree with that, I don't agree with that, but that and that I agree with and I'm going to take it on board”. So, you have to be selective. The big danger is feeling because there's a lot of feedback you’re a bad writer. You're not a bad writer, you’re a writer who’s written a first draft who’s getting feedback on it, some of which you can either right take on board or not.

Feedback is valuable and you have to give permission to people to give it, because when you do reading, you finish it and there's this sort of, ‘oh, yeah’,  and I always dive in and say something like, ‘Do we think this bit works? Because I'm not sure’. Give them permission to dive in on it and say what they think. I usually choose people I know because that gets you over a little bit of a that hurdle.

People tell new writers to ‘find your unique voice’; what does that mean?  

I think we're all on a journey. I think the things I wrote in my 20s and my 30s, my 40s, my 50s or 60s are all different, or they're different because they are at different stages. I think everyone has got a voice and the trick is letting that voice come out and not trying to make that voice, the voice that they think is the voice that's acceptable or needed or whatever. And I think everyone needs to be valued for their voice. And it's one thing to give people really constructive feedback and say, ‘right, you've written this play, I don't think it actually starts till page 6’. It's another to try and, to criticise their voice, their tone, the way they say things the way they do things. Because that's them.

Why do you write? 

Because it is my way of processing and reflecting the world I'm living and my life. I've got a really good friend who's a very successful abstract artist and we have a lot of conversations about creativity. About how you start with this butterfly inside, and it's just a butterfly, and you look at it, and then you... my fault always used to be.... I would then try to pin it, the butterfly, into a story, too quickly. And my friend was the same with her pictures and now she sort of starts with a bit, and paints a bit and paints a bit, she has to sand it back and try again where as I can just put that scene over there and put another one in. And it’s always been my superpower. When I was growing up, when I was young, it was something I could do, it was my little power. I always loved the bionic woman. She was a teacher, and she controlled the classes, they got rowdy and she ripped a phone book in half. Writing was my kind of power.

I really feel so strongly that anyone can write at any level, and there's so much snobbery in writing. And I just think if people want to write, write and free themselves from thinking, ‘ I'm not as good as them or it's not as good as this’. People do pictures of Bolton Abbey, they're never going to be on the wall of the National Gallery. Does that mean they shouldn't bother? No, they get so much out of doing that picture. You get so much out of writing if that is where your expression lies. Other people, I think, do music, gardening, baking, or interior design. I think we all have this little butterfly in us and it’s how.. mine comes out through writing.

How do you choose what to write about? 

Oh, I'm very fortunate in that it can choose me. Let me explain. Back in the early 2000s, I had a couple of plays on in London. I was on the cusp of being something, and then it all stopped. And I was trying to write plays that I thought the Royal Court or the Bush Theatre would like. I was trying to write hard hitting dramas. I was trying to write edgy plays- what I thought people wanted me to write.

And then when the writing commissions dried up, and I was back in a classroom, suddenly, I thought, I can write what I want. That’s the beautiful thing about being a failure, I don't like that word, but it's sort of a beautiful thing. I could just write what I wanted. So I could write ghost stories, love stories, a lot of love stories. I wrote about someone being in their 30s, about someone being in their 40s and their 50s. I could just process, I could choose. And I learnt through that process, what were real ideas and what would just flim-flam. What were just clever bits of nonsense and what were real genuine stories? So it took a while, and I could show you 15 plays. I wrote for the wrong reasons, which weren't good. But then. And I think in my life, I've been trying to write maybe four fourth plays and I still haven't got there yet, but with each time I get a bit nearer. And of course now I write the crime novels, completely different, and I write the radio series.

At that point when you'd had success but the promise didn’t materialise, how did you pick yourself back up? 

There were a lot of bad times. But I was blessed in that I had two things, and then a third thing came later. So the first thing was I had a loving partner who doesn't like theatre! So I can say, ‘I can’t write theatre!’ and they’d say, ‘oh, well, never mind, shall we have butternut squash for tea?’ So I had someone who loved me for who I was , so I wasn't defined by my failure as a commercial writer. And I had a job, that I loved, and that was working in an infant school. And again, I had a class of six year olds and they didn't give a flying fig that I wasn't a cutting edge playwright. As long as I could run a tight playdough table, that’s all that they were bothered about. So I had areas in which I was a success.

And the other thing, I spent a lot of time thinking, right, okay... I’d go round social workers and I talk to them about the state of Bradford thinking, I’d write a play, and the Bush would like this and doing all these things to write plays for them. And then, my mate Nocky and me are great Steam railway fans. And there's a railway in North Wales, called the Welsh Highland Railway, and it was closed for years. It was this sort of iconic fairy road of the Narrow Gauge Railway world. And they got permission in '95 to start building it back up and me and him went there in '97 and we went to this completely empty abandoned site where a railway station had been and we were lying on our back smoking and the idea then came that we would start doing work helping them lay railway track. And that was just the most wonderful thing. I mean, I was terrified. I thought, you know can a forty something gay man lay railway track? I can’t, I don't know one end of a power tool from another. But I was the most unimportant person there. I just had to do what I was told. You get there on a Saturday, and the track would be there, and by the time you left on the Sunday, it'd be over there. And I remember sitting on this pile of rails, on this, I say beautiful Welsh countryside, it was probably peeing it down, but It was still gorgeous, and I thought, I don't have to write about this. I'm not going to write about this. I’m not going to try to tell The Bush Theatre, forget it. I'm just going to do this because I love doing it.

So I think having things in your life that aren’t trying to get your writing on is crucial. And so the thing is now, so, okay, I've got a two-book deal and I've maybe got another radio series but there's no guarantee that it'll carry on. But in a way, I don't mind because, you know, I've done that before, I’ve failed before, so what?  You know, I've done it and I'm not... you get in a place where you are not defined by your commercial success.

What do you think have been the most valuable steps in your writing journey? 

Failure. Because you learn so much from when something goes wrong. You learn all sorts of lessons so that when things go right, you can avoid those traps. They say, there's that thing, isn't there, Chinese vases that are broken and then they are glued together with gold, something or other, and they are, and it's an artwork. So I would say failure and the courage to learn the lessons from it. Also people having faith and belief in me and my voice. And I've been very blessed that over the years, I've had those people in my life. And also working with other writers and looking out there, and talking, because I think when you talk about something, that's when things sort of solidify in your own mind, you know? So, yeah, failure, belief, community.

If you could go back to the beginning, what advice would you give yourself? 

Not to write a play for the wrong reasons. I had a play on at the Edinburgh Fringe, I was writing for a science theatre touring company and they were taking plays around schools. The play I’d written for them was about t about cloning- it was around the time of Dolly the sheep. And they would then do the play in schools and then perform and get feedback. The venue next door was showing a play that was called Puppetry of the P****, which was basically two Australian guys getting their bits out, making them into different shapes. And you can guess which play had cues round the block and which play had me going out giving tickets away. And I thought I'd written the wrong play, so I pitched an idea to a producer which I thought would be popular and get queues round the block. It wasn’t because I wanted to tell this story- it was because I wanted queues at the Edinburgh Fringe! So the lesson I took from that process is to have the confidence and listen to your voice and make sure the story you’re telling is one you WANT to tell, not one which you think will be popular.

So, for new writers in West Yorkshire where can they find support and opportunities?

Well obviously there’s Script Yorkshire, which aims to give writers a few of the tools they need to realize their craft through workshops and our radio writing competition.

There’s also Arts in the Arms and Leeds Pub theatre amongst others but my advice would be go and see as much as they possibly can and when they've seen it to go to people afterwards and talk about what they do; you need to keep yourself immersed in the world that you want to be part of.