Getting Your Writing Published PART THREE – Starting Over.

In the past weeks we've been looking at ways of getting started on the road to gaining a publishing contract as a writer. It's a big step and thinking about it can take place a long time before you actually even need to submit. So, as you start your first novel, you might be be nervous of its future, almost as pregnant parents are constantly nervous about their growing baby. 

You may already have faced rejection. You probably felt dreadful. Even the most successful writers have experienced what you’re feeling. You need stamina and confidence to move on to any further actions, so first of all, let this feeling pass – don’t do anything until it does. Put that manuscript away until you had a little breather.

Rejection is subjective. Editors know what they like and often go with their gut feelings. They may not have rejected your piece because it’s poor, but simply because it’s not for them. Agents will send a manuscript out between six and ten times before suggesting substantial revision. The alternative to substantial revision is to start again. At that moment – the moments after rejection of something you loved writing and had confidence in – you may feel that the best thing to do is either:

a) send it out directly, to someone who will like it

b) work on it, and send it out again.

c) give up; not worth the candle, this writing! 

But there are two other routes you should consider and in this blogpost I'm going to talk about d)

This alternative route is radical. Even so, I'm always surprised that writers almost never consider this at first. Given time…given the sixth, seventh, tenth rejection…they may get round to thinking about it, but I am recommending that this 'other way' is a far better, more productive and eventually, more successful route than a), b) and most definitely c)! So instead of getting the manuscript back out after you've had that 'little breather', here is my advice...wait for it…

d) Write something new. Yes, radical, eh? Stop using up all your creative energy on the novel, short story or script that's not been proclaimed as the Next Big Thing by those you've sent it to and begin again. But, begin different. Begin with all the experience of the previously completed piece of work. After all, at this stage in your writing life, you are definitely able to create new, prototype work. You've already done it! Take on board all you’ve learned from this experience and write something new.

Remember my story in Part One of the agent who said they'd 'look at something else'? I'd sent them the thing I thought was my Next Big Thing. At the time, I believed it would be my defining novel. I'd had it in my head for years, and had worked on it for almost a decade. It had to be great, right? But after the agent's letter, I went back to my computer and found a paragraph I'd written a little while before. Just a few lines, describing a man on a moor, searching for a shallow grave. The atmosphere was dark, the mood grim. Who was this man? I had no idea. 

If you have read my first Shaman's Mystery, you'll know that
scene. It opens the book, In the Moors. 

I read through the paragraph, and then went for a walk so that I'd find that important 'lightbulb moment' which would answer the question; who is that man?

I think you have already experienced lightbulb moments in writing – something opens inside your mind and suddenly you have the glimmer of a writing idea. It can happen especially  when doing writing exercises, but also when reading, when watching a film or TV programme or hearing the news, or even lying in bed. It can happen when talking to friends or colleagues, or when you open your writer's miscellany of ideas. It can happen when you newly confront a view or interior (a common holiday experience), but it may equally happen as you look upon an image or hear a piece of music. It commonly happens to me when I'm walking alone.

For some writers, it happens in the middle of the night. Here’s Ali Smith having a 'moment':

It was the middle of the night and something too bright woke me. I opened my eyes, because what was it, an angel? A bad or good fairy? Some kind of magic being from the sort of story we never believed in even when we were kids and were meant to? Whatever it was had clearly been there shaking the covers for some time.

What? I said.

I shielded my eyes. I saw it wasn’t a magic anything. It was

just a bare light bulb. 

Hi, it said.

(Yes, brightly)

Oh, right, I said. The light bulb moment

Its element glowed.

Good for you, I said. Enjoy your moment. I’m off back to sleep.

No. Wait, the light bulb said.

And Ali Smith's lightbulb was quite right to insist; this is why I constantly recommend using a notebook and keeping it close by. This is why you never ignore those small, possibly silly ideas, but rather store them until they seem workable. Never tell your lightbulb to enjoy its moment while you go back off to sleep. Don’t let that happen. Check all those little notes and jottings, all the clippings you’ve kept hold of, and retrieve the deep memories for things you once thought you might one day do something with.

…I opened a book on the desk.

When I did, and flicked through it, it was a like a party had broken out there on my desk, a really lively one full of people I knew and interesting people I’d not yet met and writers I’d already read and writers I hadn’t yet, brand new writers, seasoned and experienced writers, and they were all talking and arguing and agreeing and disagreeing and the glasses were clinking and the music was happening by itself behind it all.

I shut the book.

I sat in the light.

I listened. Silence.

Right, I said. Ready.

(SOURCE; Novel Writing: A Writers’ and Artists’ Companion, R Gudeskera & A L Kennedy. Bloomsbury 2015 pg x - xii from the Forward by Ali Smith.)

Two lightbulb moments are better than one. Two ideas coming together feel like science; like atoms co-bonding. I already had one moment; a man, in the dark, alone on a moor, searching for a shallow grave. Now I needed another, and one that might slot with the first so that I could develop both successfully. You may have previously heard me talk about the way Sabbie Dare entered my life, sometime after I'd begun to learn about shamanic practice. I knew a few people hoping to start a therapy practice up, and I couldn't help thinking…

Shamanism is at the heart of
my murder mysteries

They are going to get a good deal of very unusual characters coming into that therapy room…' Sabbie Dare was born, with her last name answering that worry; she dared to invite in the lost, the broken, even those who had done wrong. Once I knew that the man on the moor was her client, I could plot with success.

Those lightbulb moments of inspiration are only the start.  Amalgamating two lightbulb moments can allow you the freedom you'll need to do whatever you want during the process of writing creatively This often means being brave about trusting your ideas and allowing them to develop from very small beginnings.

So leave that previous manuscript alone for now, however wedded you are to it. Instead, Make notes of any moments of inspiration – try dreaming and visualising your inspiration; take a long walk alone, or sit in a quiet room and let your thoughts roam. Also check out this blogpost to help you start collecting lightbulb moments into a miscellany. Spend time fostering old ideas and working up new ideas, and then gaining a foothold in your working ideas.

Start a new notebook (actual or electronic). Include all notes, snatches, planning, character ideas and freewrites that pertain to this new plan of work. Transfer any ideas and thought you’ve gleaned through recent reading.

Speculation is the core of fiction writing. Look around you and fill in the gaps -- you'll find that characters are begging for your attention. Remember, however, that characters are just one element in a story. Put your most intriguing character into a most intriguing situation and you'll have fuel enough for pages. I had to ask;  Why is the man on the moor looking for a shallow grave? Did he dig it in the first place? And how is Sabbie to know that her client is guilty or innocent? Those were still the questions that I had to answer. 

Decide on a title. This will make the new writing real; a provisional, working title. Indulge yourself by spending time on this, as it can inspire in itself. Psychologically, knowing you have a working title can be a great boost. Put the title on the front page of the notebook/file. 

Freewrite the title to see where it takes you. Allow yourself to experiment with all the ideas that end up in your new notebook. Ask ‘what if’ a lot. Try things out. Take risks to see where they take you. 

Don’t expect something fully formed to arrive yet. Most writers only find this happened once they’re well into the writing of a longer piece of work. At the same time, reflect on what you’ve got and analyse where you’re going. 

I'm not asking you to forget the work you've just put away after rejection; I'm asking to move on from it.

After all, you’re a writer. You can do it again.

In the next of this series, we'll look at ways of getting yourself known as a writer – before you finish your novel.

 

Getting your Writing Published PART TWO –Is "self published" still a slur?

GETTING PUBLISHED CAN BE SCARY

My last blogpost looked at ways of getting started on the road to gaining a publishing contract as a writer, and especially at whether to get an agent, and, just as important, HOW to get an agent. 

Submitting work for publication is a bit step and thinking about it can take place a long time before you actually even need to submit. So, as you start your first novel, you might be be thinking of submitting short stories, especially to prestigious competitions. Once your name is out there, it becomes a lot easier.

Most of the books on a bookseller’s shelves come from long-standing publishing houses. You can find most publishers, from local, specialist, and editor-owner firms right up to global companies such as Simon and Schuester, Penguin, HarperCollins and Macmillan, listed in The Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook and The Writer’s Handbook – once you’ve made the decision to look for a publisher or agent, you need to own the most recent copy. Read each listing carefully and only approach those who deal with your sort of work. Check whether they actually take new submissions, and if they will accept unsolicited submissions. Each new year, use the updated handbook to look for arrivals in the market places – new or expanded publishers and agents may be looking to fill their books.So why not send your work straight to the commissioning editor, rather than accept a 10% or more cut from your advance? After all, a. publisher…: 

• Market your book – although they will still expect you to invest time and some money into marketing yourself. 
• Will take on the details of producing, printing, distributing your book
• Has the kudos of a known publishing name. 

There are drawbacks, however:

•     The publisher takes control of your book               
•         Publishers drop authors who fail to sell well

•       The various protocols and traditions can feel frustrating 

 

• The big advance may turn out to be full of clauses – for example, that £200,000 first book deal may actually cover an entire four-book deal, with moneys put aside for possible film versions. It may actually net the writer no more than £5,000 for their first book. Writers are more often offered a low advance with the possibility of royalties later.

 

• and the final, huge drawback to going straight to the. horses mouth;

• THE SLUSH PILE.

Editorial offices used to be littered with unsolicited submissions. But no more. The pile of through-the-post manuscripts has diminished. Nowadays it's far easier to SEND work to a publisher; you just ping it over as a Word Doc attachment. But easier, isn't necessarily more successful.

When there was a towering pile of packages to work through, the office junior was duty-bound to at least open and peer into the envelope. Only peer, you ask? In a busy office the allowed junior might  barely glanced its way as they lifted your work from its envelope and placed it, with the horrid little rejection slip, into the SAE. If you were lucky, you’d get a few lines of feedback. But why should they bother? They didn’t ask for it, and they may neglect to return it. 

That was then. Now, an email can get so quickly lost. Imagine the morning inbox of a commissioning editor. Hundreds of 'new mail' and all of them asking...begging...to be read and considered for publication. 

Unsolicited work via email probably won't be printed off. That poor office junior will probably be responsible for that first read, on the screen They will not pass on anything that they consider poor writing, a shaky start, or badly edited or presented  work. However, that member of staff will be adept at spotting something interesting. Once they’ve read enough to be confident, they will ping the email attachment over  to the commissioning editor, who will read it themselves and contact the writer.

They'll be asking that lucky writer for more. Because don't forget, no one wants your entire book straight-off. They want first three chapters and a synopsis (and a covering email; polite, brief and informative. 

Once the longer attachment arrives, with the rest of the novel, they may flick through it, but quite quickly. it will be farmed out. Editors employ a reader to spend time on these manuscripts; and again their job is to sort wheat from chaff. The reader will furnish the editor with a report or review. At that point, the editor will finally read the manuscript themselves if they are to take it any further. With large firms, this usually means one of the regular commissioning committee meetings. When an editor rejects work because ‘our list is already full for this year’, they may mean precisely that.

Editors are experts. Treat any communication outlining what is wrong with the submitted work like a golden opportunity. Editors don’t spend time writing unless they believe there is some merit to the work. If they’ve taken the trouble even to scribble something in your rejection email, read it carefully and take note of it, both the particular and the general. If they’ve  outlined what’s wrong, pay even more attention. Details that specify changes are particularly important. Address the changes in your manuscript, then do a market analysis of further publishers. 

Rewrite your work and send the manuscript on to the next possibility. When an editor suggests that they’ll read a piece again if it’s amended, respond immediately. Rewrite your work as suggested and send the manuscript back to them with a covering letter detailing your thoughts and the work you’ve done. Do this as quickly as is physically possible; burn that midnight oil!

Editors sometimes ask to see more of your work. If you can send something new, give this a thorough rewrite and edit – don’t just stuff ping it off without a proper re-edit. But do this quickly – editors have short memories.

Self-Publishing

It might strike you as strange that anyone would opt to spend money on publishing themselves, when the time-honoured method via established publishing firms will reap financial benefits with very little personal outlay and less time and effort. But the lack of orthodox options has led a growing body of writers towards self-publishing.There are pros and cons to both routes, and most writers who have decided to become self-published do a lot of research first. As well as assimilating the information below, bring yourself fully up-to-date by scrutinising and analysing the route you might eventually chose to use.

Successful self-published authors, who mostly like to call themselves independent authors or ‘indie authors’, have so many alternative routes to pick from that at first the options seem overwhelming. Some writers only publish electronically, ebooks and Kindle. Some choose to print a number of hard copies to sell alongside the ebooks. Some take advantage of ‘print on demand’ which usually includes electronic distribution via internet sites such as Amazon, where a copy is printed off instantly someone orders it. This keeps costs to a minimum while responding to demand for your book and negates the need to store hundreds of copies of books. 

There are companies (don’t think of them as publishers) that will self-publish your work for you. They offer a range of services such as copy-editing, assigning an ISBN, book jacket design, author promotion and book marketing. Everything else can be bought at an extra cost... such as marketing materials, editing/proofing, expanded distribution, etc. The copyright of the work remains with the author. Some companies have an agreement to supply booksellers with copies. Check your agreement carefully for issues such as the cost of buying books upfront, you retention of copyright,  and other issues. Some lock you in to agreements you might not wish to be part of. Some companies will not help you redraft, rewrite or edit your book which makes it very easy for substandard books to flood the market. Don’t let yours be part of that trend. 

Indie authors also have to understand how to market their work. They have to build a strong online presence. They have to be able to commit a significant amount of time to finding creative ways to make sales. And they also have to be willing to invest money. The reality of all the legwork and cost can be disenchanting, especially as self-publishing still has a poor reputation in many cases, with readers, publishers and other writers continuing to regard it as the less valuable option.

Think of the self-publishing rout as a step-by-step procedure. Start by ticking off these steps as you take them. Try making notes about each of these steps. In fact, you may like to buy an up-to-date  manual on how to self-publish in the second decade of the twenty-first century. There's a lot of manuals out there, and a huge amount of advice to be had.

Here's your checklist.

1. Decide Why You Want to Publish a Book
2. Write Your Book
3. Get Feedback Before Publishing Your Book
4. Choose a Book Title
5. Hire a Great Book Editor
6. Design a Book Cover that Converts
7. Create Your Kindle Direct Publishing Account
8. Format and Upload your Book
9. Self-Publish Your Book
10. Price Your Book
11. Form a Launch Team
12. Maximize Book Launch Exposure
13. Celebrate Publishing a Book!

A final note; the Vanity Press 

 It's surpising to find that the vanity press still exist, but they do, and they are as outmoded and as overpriced as they ever were. They are not an option for any sensible clued-up person.By sending your manuscript to a vanity publisher for a large fee – up to £10,000 – you enter into a contract: the company will publish an agreed number of copies of your book and send them to you. The contract may also stipulate that the publisher will promote your book and pay royalties for each copy sold. In fact, once they have your payment and have delivered your order, they’re unlikely to do more than feature your book on their website. Vanity publishers will print anything. They don’t edit or give any advice with regard to how publishable – or how readable – the manuscript actually is. 

So think carefully before considering yourself ready to submit a book to a publisher. Think even more carefully, before deciding to move over to self-publishing. And never think about entering into a contract with anything that looks vaguely like a vanity publisher. 

Good luck, though! it can be done!

In the next in this occasional series, I'll be passing on tips for getting into the good position for finding a contract – everything from proofreading to winning competitions. 

Getting your Writing Published' PART ONE – are the facts all fiction?

Are the facts about publishing all fiction?

 

Kitchen Table Writers hasn't blogged about the publishing world for a while – instead, subject matter has ranged from Asian goddesses, to symbolism, to  recent books to art, to sacred walking, So it's probably time to get back to one of the basic subjects people ask me about; HOW DO I GET PUBLISHED?

 Most writers would like to see themselves in print. In recent years, gaining a publishing contract has not got any easier, but new writers are still being spotted and taken on by major publishing houses. It happens almost every week in the UK – it has just happened to a friend on mine – but you may not hear about such successes unless the advance is large enough to make news headlines.

Another happy first-time author. 

If you’ve not ever sent out work to a publisher, I'm actually going to first say; well done! The more experience you can get under your belt before you send off your work, the better. A good point to remember is that once you’ve had work rejected, it’s pointless sending it out again without further work, and it may prove useless to send it back to the same publisher, even after you’ve improved it. The only reason you might do this, is if a covering letter (or email) has suggested it. So before you decide to start looking for publication, ask yourself if you work is ready. This is often an area of research that writers hoping to see themselves in print skip over. They’ll spend time, even money, on approaching publishers, or investigating self-publishing, but they omit the hard work of presenting their work as publishable.

a recent anthology
 with my work featured. 

A lot of writers start by submitting shorter, individual works. There is a cache of small press publications who want shorter material, many of which have been in the literary magazine market for a long time, Ambit has been going for forty years and London Magazine was founded in 1732. Some publish in one discipline or genre…Envoi concentrates on poetry, longstanding Interzone takes horror and Chester based Flash only publishes flash fiction. Some are more eclectic; Granta will take art-work, essays, reviews, poetry, short stories and occasionally extracts. Certain magazines have grown out of university literature departments, for instance Short Fiction from Plymouth and Cake from Lancaster. Some publications, such as The Poetry Review, are extremely well thought of, while every week a new online publisher comes along…and almost every week, one fails and is never seen again. 

Literary and small press magazines can be unearthed online. Try Splice or any other website that offers a list of publishers. The The Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook or Bloomsbury’s Writers’ & Artists’Yearbooks always include both newspapers and magazines in their listings, as does Mslexia's comprehensive paperback The Indie Press Guide, now in its third edition. A book physically by your side, which tells you where to send your poems, short stories or articles, is a useful thing to have, and although Mslexia is focused at women writers, they'll sell their wares to anyone. Traditionally, writing magazines in the UK not only compile regular lists of current competitions, but also updated lists of small press publishers. These included Mslexia, but Writing Magazine, and Writers’ Forum also do this.

Before submitting to literary or small press magazines, check their submission rules and stick to them. Do not send six poems (just because they’re short) when the maximum asked for is four. Send tidy copy. Check up on your presentation, and the criteria for submitting to that organisation, and follow to the letter. You should also send a covering letter, introducing yourself. If you’re sending by post, enclose a stamped addressed envelope, and when sending by email, check you’ve included your details, especially your phone number.

Winning the Rubery Prize

Competitions are often easier to get placed in than magazines. I'm just having a short story presented in an online competition magazine. the SaveAs competition, judged by the University of Kent, short-listed one of my stories recently. But why bother, if what you want is to get that novel published? 

Being able to say you're in accepted magazines, or that you've been placed several times for your short fiction can make all the difference when you're searching for an editor or an agent. So don't turn your nose up at this option.

But first, perhaps we should look at the choice most writers need to make – getting on the books of a good agent, or going straight for the great contract with an established publisher. Which is it to be?

It’s often said that it’s harder to find an agent than it is a publisher, but a good agent hugely increases your chance of selling your work. Good agents believe in their writers, and that alone can be a valuable boost to morale. 

Some publishing houses state clearly that each manuscript must arrive via a literary agency, but even those who do not state this are often swayed by the agent’s ability to sell the work they advocate. Agents not only know which publishers to approach and argue the best deal for their clients, but also handle the legal and financial side of publication and can advise on promotion of the published work. They charge around 15 per cent of all fees, but there aren’t usually any up-front payments to make. Most published authors use an agent, sometimes obtaining one after they’ve struck a publishing deal.

Some agents do ask for an up-front payment before taking on a new client. Although legally entitled to do this, do be wary of such contracts. Most agents will want you to work on your manuscript, in affect, appraising it for you.  It seems reasonable to assume that if you send your work to an agent and pay for appraisal, they may undertake to handle it if they like what they read. Whether you’ve paid for their opinion, or whether they send it gratis after reading your work, what often encourages an agency to take you on their books is your response to any initial assessment. They want to see that you are flexible, can take criticism, and can think around writing problems. They’ll read the rewritten version before they take you on, and may still turn you away at that point.

After I’d completed my MA in creative writing, I had an almost finished book in my hands. I rewrote, edited and proof-read it. I sent off a synopsis, three chapters and a covering letter to an agent. They asked to see the full manuscript. Within eight weeks, they’d returned it, along with a positive, supportive letter, which said they had liked my writing voice, my characterisation and my skill with plotting, and would be pleased to see anything further that suited their list. So, that was a 'no', then. 

But within a year, I had a completed good draft of my first crime thriller, In the Moors, and chose to send it to that same agent. We met in London, and I was given a good deal of work to complete on the book before my agent was able to tell me I'd been offered a contract. However, taking their suggestions for the rewrite under my belt resulted in that agent being able to sell my book to the right publisher. And, of course, it was a better book – the first in the Shaman Mystery Series.

Because it's such a big decision to send out a manuscript, it is advisable to get a second opinion on it, before you do so. You can 'buy' that opinion, using a appraising firm, mentor, or 'book doctor'. or, as stated above, an actual literary agency. Some of these services are eye-wateringly costly, and all of them charge a fee. 

I have mentored many new novelists over the years of being a writing tutor and assessor, and blogger. I charge, but I don't charge silly money. I think of it as 'an exchange of energies', because what I'm usually doing is giving that writer more work to do!!  However, you must bear in mind that all book doctors are giving you is their opinions The next along the line might say really different things about the same material. Which might lead you to conclude that sending to a variety of agents could have the same (but far cheaper) effect. 

One person you probably don't want to ask about your book is your nearest and dearest. Unless they are also a writer, publisher or agent, of course! Their response will be far too subjective and possibly down-right wrong.

I would recommend, rather than a one-off appraisal of your book, you try a writing course, or intensive workshop over a week or more, or a degree like the one I'm part of – the Open College of the Arts BAhons in Creative Writing. This isn't a cheaper option, but you get a lot more bang for you buck than using a writing doctor.

a great gang of writers who share they work
...and their woes.

There is a cheaper alternative, although it takes more time and a lot of effort. Join a good writing club, society or online group. Read your work aloud or send it to be read and critiqued; this is definitely an exchange of energies and you may learn as much about your book by critiquing others as you will from the comments you receive.

In the next blogpost we'll take this perennial question of HOW DO I GET PUBLISHED further, by looking at the publishing houses and their editors – and how to get their attention.

In the meantime, if you want to ask a question, or make a comment, or tell a story about your publishing experience, don't forget the comments box below this post.

The best of luck with your writing!

Symbolism in Literature – The Snake

Brittanica.com

Across the world of fiction and world literature you can find the snake. It has probably more symbolic references than almost any other creature, from representing an insidious threat (the "snake in the grass"), to the idea of fertility or a creative life force. As snakes shed their skin through sloughing, they have becomes symbols of rebirth and transformation, even immortality. They're associated with the underworld and the abode of the dead because they spend so much time in pits or hiding under rocks – or in the UK under corrugated iron laid down for that purpose.

Ouroborus 

Two of the most known. symbols ares the ouroboros and the caduceus. 

In ancient myth, a snake devouring its own tail, known as Ouroboros, was a symbol of eternity. The snake’s ability to slough or shed its own skin 

The Rod of Aclepious

The caduceus, the staff of the messenger Hermes in classical Greek myth has two intertwined serpents. This staff was carried by Hermes (or his Roman counterpart, Mercury): the messenger of the gods. The two staffs are often confused, but the herald’s staff borne by Hermes/Mercury had two serpents, rather than one, with their heads facing each other. This  has been wrongly used as a medical symbol for a little over one hundred years. It has often been mistaken for the Rod of Asclepius, a visually similar symbol belonging to the god of healing and medicine.

The Caduceus

The caduceus only has one winding snake. while the Asclepius has two.

In stories the world over, as well as in modern literature, the snake often raises its head.

In the Epic of Gilgamesh, a 4,000-year-old story which also features a flood narrative, Gilgamesh attempts to seize a plant that might confer immortality, only for a snake to steal the plant away. This feels similar to the biblical  story although the creature who confronted Eve was only ever described as a serpent in Genesis – it is Milton, in Paradise Lost who first uses the term 'snake' to denote the evil of Satan. After he has tempted Eve  God punishes him by making him crawl in the dust.

 Fold above fold a surging Maze his Head            

 Crested aloft, and Carbuncle his Eyes;

With burnisht Neck of verdant Gold, erect 

Amidst his circling Spires.

In Good Omens, by  Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, we meet  Crawley the satanic snake hilariously transformed into a burned-out rock star tasked with ushering in the apocalypse. Except Crawly—or Crowley, as he rechristens himself—isn't so keen on putting an end to his favorite earthly delights just yet. 

One of my favourite poems, D. H. Lawrence's ‘Snake’, was written while he was living on the island of Sicily, in the beautiful resort, Taormina, on the east side of the island:

The voice of my education said to me

He must be killed,

For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold are venomous.

And voices in me said, if you were a man

You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off...

Lawrence stages a masculine battle,  two males facing off against one another. He ruminates on killing  the snake so that he will be safe, while accepting its power and individuality. This creates an inner drama.You can read the entire poem here

One of the most famous snakes in fiction has to be Kaa, the Indian python from Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book. In he 1967 Disney film  Kaa is a villain, while in Kipling’s original book he defeats the Bandar-log monkeys and frees Mowgli, so showing that ambiguous symbolism, being both saviour and danger.

In The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver, zealous Baptist Nathan Price takes his family to the Belgian Congo where he works as a missionary. Snakes appear, seemingly mysteriously, in gardens, and one morning the family find a curled-up green mamba and, as it slithers off, hear a shriek from Ruth May, the youngest of the four Price sisters. She has been bitten on the shoulder and dies as they watch. Read more of my thoughts on this fabulously rich novel here 

American poet Emily Dickinson (1830-86) wrote with passion about the snake; 

A narrow Fellow in the Grass                            

Occasionally rides –

You may have met him – did you not

His notice sudden is –

The Grass divides as with a Comb –

A spotted shaft is seen –

And then it closes at your feet

And opens further on –

I use snake symbology strongly in my second Shaman Mystery, On the Gallows. Sabbie first encounters an anaconda in a journey she takes for one client. But she meets this spiritual snake in an ice house, a long way from its home:

'Time and place can change. Home may change.'

I frowned. I didn’t want to forget a single word of what Anaconda was saying; I was sure it had meanings only Drea would understand. 

'Do homes change for the better?' I asked.

'Duty and purpose can change.'

'What is your duty and purpose?'

'First; do no harm. Next; protect your kin. Last; keep your secret.'

'What is your secret?'

Anaconda didn’t like this. He clearly felt I’d been presumptive to ask. For the first time I saw malevolence flicker in the small eyes. I heard the girl give a trembling sigh, as if even her breath shivered with cold. I tried to dodge past Anaconda, but he intercepted my move and I collided with him. His scales felt dry on my bare arms. My feet slid from under me and I fell on the ice, hard as concrete but much colder. It burned through my dress.

His tongue flicked. His head lunged at me. The razor-sharp points of his tongue plunged into my belly. I heard my throat scream in the world of my therapy room. My hands covered my stomach. There was no blood. This was a spirit wound from a serpent without a poisonous bite. Anacondas, I remembered, crushed their prey. I tried to slide away from him, wriggling like a snake does, struggling to gain a grip, but I was shivering so much my hands and feet refused to co-operate. I could hardly feel my body now. The bite wasn’t poisonous, but it had sent me spiralling into hypothermia.

The snake theme continues through the On the Gallows (Unraveled Visions in the US). Towards the climax, I make use of a reference to another fictional snake, the Mara, from Dr Who, when Sabbie interviews the woman who discovered a body on the cooling station at Hinkley Point Power Station;

The Mara, as it manifested itself in Kinda

...' I was cold, very cold and frightened and mad with myself for being so utterly stupid. I could hardly dial. I think I sort of lost it. Because behind me was a dead girl on the gallows and in front of me was the power station. I know I was screaming by then, on and on. Got myself right freaked out until I couldn’t move at all, like we did as kids, imagining Hinkley Point was the Dark Places of the Inside, where the Mara lived; we loved to scare each other with that Dr Who stuff, say the power station could transmit telepathically, and that the Mara was manifesting as one of us, we’d point to one of the gang and run screaming from them, the pure hatred and greed of Mara and that. It all came back to me. I was stuck there remembering that the Mara manifested into its snake form and could destroy me. Like her. I’d got it in my head that was what had happened to her.'     She stopped, and wiped her mouth. 'Madness. How your mind plays tricks.'

    'What did you say?'

    'That I went quite mad, really. Screamed so hard, I couldn’t use my voice for days, after–'

     'No – not that. The thing about Hinkley. What did you say about a snake?'

    'Oh, I was just frantic, totally back to when we were kids. We loved scaring each other. We knew about nuclear power, but we didn’t if you get me. We made things up. Even the signs are scary…DO NOT ENTER…to us, that mean, enter at your peril. It was Rick who started saying the power station was the Dark Places of the Inside. Said he could hear purring, but it wasn’t a cat, it was the Mara, who was, I dunno, this snake; a representation of all evil from another planet. It was what was on Dr Who at the time.'

    'The power station is…'

    'I’d half lost my mind, Sabbie, be fair.'

    'Yeah, I understand.'

     I did not understand at all.  Like I’d explained to Rey, the spirit world is full of twists and tangles...

Perhaps you have used snakes as symbols in your own writing. Or have been particularly affected by their reference in your reading. Do tell me about your experiences with snakes, by posting a comment below.

You can listen to Paradise Lost on BBC Radio 4 right now, with the great Ian McKellan as Milton, and Simon Russell Beale as the snake (Satan). It's live on Sunday afternoons and available on Sounds; click here to find out more

To read more blogposts about symbolism in literature, click here