When I first met Tracy Rees on Twitter I had a real fan girl moment – The Hourglass was one of my favourite books. I plucked up courage to ask her to write a piece for Frost, little imagining that during the subsequent exchanges of emails, she’d turn out to be everything she writes about below and more.
I always imagined that if I were ever published, it would be with something niche, perhaps something literary or quirky. Instead I find myself writing commercial women’s fiction (historical so far, but watch this space…) and I feel incredibly lucky. It’s a wonderful genre: accessible, comforting, profound and escapist all at once. And it’s a wonderful community; there’s something very special about the bond between women writers, at any stage of their journey.
As women, we have particular challenges, I think, in addition to those of our craft. Even today – and I certainly consider myself a modern woman – there is something in women (Nature or nurture? Probably both) that constrains us to care for the needs of others before ourselves. I certainly don’t mean that men aren’t caring because I only have to look at my own father and partner to know how amazingly kind men can be. But in women there is something that makes us feel guilty and unbearably stressed if we:
- switch off from thinking about other people
- pursue a pastime that often seems to have no measurable purpose
- turn the phone off and spend hours alone, staring into space
Photo credit: Phil Lewis
And what is writing if not a taskmaster that demands all of the above?
Yet if we don’t try, how will we ever know what we’re capable of? What our strange fragments of story ideas might become? How far along our writing journey we might go if we give it our best shot? Exploring our dreams as far as possible makes us happier, fuller people, which in turn allows us to help and support others.
My mother, a true-blue bookworm, was the earliest cheerleader of my writing dreams. But support from fellow women-writers comes in many forms, from comforting cuppas to celebratory glasses of bubbly, from long, in-depth conversations to a hastily dashed-off email in an hour of need. When I was first published I didn’t know any other authors and I felt desperate for people who understood. That’s all changed now and I value it more than I can say, so much so that I’ve launched an appraisal and mentoring service. I love helping people and it’s hugely satisfying to be part of that chain of experience and knowledge, one to another.
There are long-established writers who encouraged me early in my career when I was struggling with unfamiliar challenges. There are writers a few years behind me, coming to terms with the demands of being a professional author. And there are aspiring writers, still discovering all the joys of writing, as well as the more gruelling aspects (Chocolate biscuit, anyone?). We are all a community and the friendship of those who understand what we are trying to achieve is a magic that keeps us going.
There are wise women in all my books, from the alarming Mrs Riverthorpe in Amy Snow, to mystical Old Rilla in Florence Grace to Gwennan (aka Gran) in The Hourglass. In my latest book, Darling Blue, the three protagonists, Blue, Delphine and Midge, are each struggling to find their way. By pooling their wisdom and uniting in friendship, they are able to guide each other and achieve more than they ever could alone. Which is exactly what I’m talking about here.
Twitter @AuthorTracyRees
Instagram @tracyreesauthor
Tracy Rees always wanted to be a writer. She first worked in medical publishing, then as a counsellor for people with cancer and their families, but like many writers has had many other jobs along the way. A Cambridge graduate, Tracy lives on the Gower Peninsula but divides her time between Wales and London, where her partner lives.