Autumn 2005
Autumn 2005
I heard of the Women’s Fiction Festival through the RWA
Report. The idea of enjoying a
glass of wine in the sun while talking writing was very tempting, just what I
needed to revitalise flagging inspiration in the middle of a book.
I booked on line and the two and a half hour flight from Stanstead to
Bari with Ryanair cost from around £30 return.
The first problem was that it was over an hour’s drive in the shuttle
bus from the airport to the delightful city of Matera.
We were situated in the Sassi, the oldest part of the city, and my hotel,
like many others, was built into the rock: a comfortable en-suite room with a
beautiful vaulted ceiling. The
second problem was that by the time we were all deposited in our respective
hotels we were completely disoriented and wondered if we’d ever find each
other again, let alone the welcome meeting in the hotel by the cathedral,
perched high on the sky a bewildering maze of streets away.
However, all turned out well. I easily followed the map we were given and eventually located it, if via a circuitous route the first time. Trainers or comfortable walking shoes are definitely required footwear to negotiate the cobbles, passages and many steps, but, once up on the Piazza San Francesco with it’s beautiful parade of shops, it’s an easy level walk to the Palazzo Lanfranchi and the two squares, where the various sessions are held.
As if part of a world wide club, we didn’t really need the red wine to loosen writers’ tongues, and we certainly enjoyed the wonderful food. Melanie Hinton, (Louise Allen – Harlequin regencies) and I were happy to fly the flag for the RNA, and we made many more friends during the week, from America, Australia, and Italy itself.
The first session on the Wednesday morning was a talk on the anthropology of Italian food and wine, which was fascinating, followed by an interesting discussion on the European Book Market comprising Karin Stoeker (Harlequin); Gillian Green (Piatkus); Isolde Wehr, (Moment Verlag); and Ornella Robbiati, editor of Sonzogno, an Italian publishing house.
We learned that Harlequin were seeking regencies, roman empire, Victorian and other historicals with an aspirational element, part of a sophisticated world rather than the nitty-gritty of existence. Also escapist realism featuring good wine and food with Under the Tuscan Sun lifestyles. Short, intense escapist fantasy, and character driven relationship books. The Italian publishing house is seeking thrillers, chick-lit, contemporary sagas and relationship novels. Ninety-nine per cent of their authors are translated from the UK or the US. It was pointed out, however, that Italy is the least well read country in the world, although this is slowly improving. They have problems encouraging reading in the young and the birth rate has fallen. The editor seemed to be seeking a love story on a par with The Horse Whisperer, one that touches every heart with a captivating hero and a marvellous setting. The horse is optional.
Gillian Green outlined Piatkus needs as wide, claiming that fifty per cent of their list is American with women’s romance at the heart of their list. They are seeking new original voices in chick-lit, which is increasingly harder to place, no sagas, but she is excited to be introducing a new line in regencies. Piatkus may even go into vampires.
The German love of Scottish historicals continues unabated, so get your sexy highland laddies kitted out, or should that be kilted? Time-travel is acceptable, and romantic suspense, known as lady-thrillers, is a growing market in Germany. Although it was felt that readers have overdosed on FBI Agents in need of a wife. All were agreed that literary historicals were also in demand.
Melanie and I were on the panel for the historical novel, which was certainly an experience. This was an evening session to which the public were invited and the room was packed. It was a bit like UNESCO with us listening to the translation through our ear-phones before slipping them off to give our answer in English, then quickly slip them back on again to hear the moderator’s translated comments and her next question. Sara Dunant talked about her new book The Birth of Venus; two Italian authors spoke about their books, and Melanie talked about her regencies. I was asked not about my latest book but about The Favourite Child. So I found myself speaking to a largely Catholic, Italian audience about contraception in the 1920s, with a fresco of the Last Supper on the museum wall behind me. An experience, certainly.
On the Thursday we enjoyed talks on Chick Lit, book distribution in Europe, and a novelist in Tinseltown. On Friday there was a panel of Literary Agents who discussed the value of foreign rights, both in America and Europe, and also the general benefits one gains from having an agent. Luigi Bonomi was startled to discover that the Italian agent charged four hundred euros simply to read a manuscript. It certainly made all us Brits realise how fortunate we are in the UK.
One of the most fascinating sessions was that concerned with the complications of translation. The technical difficulties of describing a medieval castle to Italians for instance, whose own castles are designed differently. One editor spoke of being puzzled why a Saxon castle should have a wardrobe with a curtain in front, until she realized that it should be “garderobe” the latrine, situated behind the curtain wall. Lying through your teeth became lying like a dentist, and did you know there is no tooth fairy in Germany? The irony of a chick-lit doesn’t always come across, and Germany of course is not interested in anything remotely military, whether it be WWII or Iraq. Names often have to be changed at times, particularly in fantasy. Dumbledore became Silente, because the Italians believed that to be the meaning of the word until they discovered it was old English for bumblebee. Apparently J.K. Rowling didn’t mind in the least.
The translator has to breathe in the atmosphere of the book. The author’s style must always be respected, to the extent that where possible the same translator is allocated to all her books. But they have to use their creative side to overcome cultural difficulties, which wouldn’t be required in a technical work.
Translating sex, however, was the big issue and major topic of discussion. There is a rule in one particular German publishing house that body parts cannot be named below the waist, which, the translator explained, can create problems in explaining what is going on. Younger readers in Italy are more relaxed about the subject but it is a fine line between being romantic and too explicit. Erotic fiction is coming to Europe but there must be a freshness to it, a strong sensuality and emotion. It demands skilful translation so that it will not simply become vulgar, a balance between romance and sensuality. If they get it wrong, the company is inundated with phone calls from readers. It is all about expectations from any particular author, and skilful writing too, of course. The earth moves doesn’t really work for them.
The afternoons were free to enjoy a siesta or explore the Sassi, unless you were an Italian on the creative writing course. The Happy Hour at five seemed to be attended more by the locals than the writers but there were interviews with media available. The sessions in the evening with the public attending and writers speaking of their work were both interesting and entertaining, although for the ones held in the auditorium which didn’t have a system set up, you had to sit close to a translator to understand what was going on. Some people went on to take a food and wine course, which cost extra. We just went to eat.
The festival closed with a presentation ceremony for the translation of ‘Millionaires Don’t Count’ by Sophie Weston and a lifetime achievement award to Inge Feltrinelli for her support of women’s fiction in Italy. This was followed by a gala dinner with champagne and entertainment the like of which I have never seen in my life before. There were singing waiters, poets and comedy artists moving between the tables, and clips of black and white movies, including John Cleese doing a Monty Python sketch in Italian. Wonderful!
Was it worth the trip? I certainly gained an insight into the European book market, even if one session by booksellers was rather on the negative side. I have to say it wasn’t the best organised or attended conference I’ve ever been to. Each session was irritatingly slow to get started, often being anything from thirty to forty-five minutes late, and lasted for two hours. Coffee was not provided on the premises and you had only fifteen minutes to find it in the square, which, judging by the queues of locals at the coffee bars was a fairly hopeless task.
However, it is only the festival’s second year so there is ample time to iron out any teething problems and for it to progress. Next year is to be dedicated to mysteries and thrillers, with background briefings by FBI agents, experts on the CIA, forensic scientists, homicide detectives and more.
You are, of course, responsible for finding your own food. I was fortunate in that although I went on my own, I generally managed to team up with a group of people for a pleasant meal, often eaten al fresco in a lovely piazza.
Melanie had the right idea, she took hubby along, they hired a car and did some exploring in between. It’s certainly worth considering making this part of a holiday as Matera is beautiful, right down in the heel. But if you are seeking an intensive, workshop packed, value-for-money conference to inspire you, this may not be the one. Would I go again? If the programme interests me I would certainly consider tackling those steps again, once my knees have come out of rehab.
For more details visit: www.womensfictionfestival.com
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