Gerda Stevenson on new book Letting Go and how writing fits into her busy life

I have times of sustained writing, as well as short bursts, though probably the latter is more the norm. Writing is a solitary activity, which I love, but if I was always writing I would really miss working with other artists. I absolutely love collaborations – there’s nothing like the joy of creating something together. I find that all the different art forms I’m involved in feed into one another creatively for me.

Where do you write?

I’ve never had a dedicated workspace. I always seem to be in demand domestically, so my workspace can be the kitchen table, in my bedroom, in the sitting room (if my daughter’s not at home listening to her Alexa there while she’s weaving), or lately, in my son’s bedroom, since he’s no longer at home. I’ve even been known to sit halfway up the stairs, when I’m writing. I write on my laptop, and tend to be a bit peripatetic with it. Sometimes I take it with me in the car and write while my daughter’s having her swimming lesson.

Gerda Stevenson writes anywhere she can - sometimes halfway up the stairs. Photo by Gordon Terris

I remember some years ago, writing in the corridor outside the rehearsal room at Dundee Rep, while I was waiting to be called to rehearse the scenes I was in. We were doing Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard, and the director never issued a call sheet for the cast, just called all the actors every day, so there was a lot of sitting around. It was a very productive time for me. I also do a great deal of writing in my head when I’m out in the woods with my dog. That’s my most creative space. I get my characters talking to each other, and work out my ideas while walking. If I can’t start writing after my walk, due to other demands, I’ll make notes on my laptop, so that my ideas are not lost.

Do you have a regular writing routine?

If I’m directing, then my writing will probably be confined to poetry at night in bed. Sometimes I’m out doing gigs, singing, and I could be driving some distance. Other times I can be running writers’ workshops, or doing poetry readings. I write when I can. The variety is stimulating.

Any working rituals?

Time to myself is very valuable, so I don’t faff about. I just sit down, or get into bed, and write. I do like to have a cuppa with me, though. I can’t listen to music while I’m writing – I love music, and would have to give it my attention, so would get hopelessly distracted by it. I do tell the family: “I’m writing. Don’t interrupt me unless it’s absolutely necessary!” I like to have my dog nearby. She’s often sitting right next to me.

How does prose-writing differ from composing poetry?

I actually think that poetry and short stories are not dissimilar, in the sense that they’re highly distilled forms of writing, though poetry is the most distilled. Obviously, there are structural differences, but once you know what those are, the similarities are greater than one might imagine.

Are there parallels between writing and acting?

There are definitely similarities between acting and writing dialogue. It’s all about asking the right questions – where do the characters come from? Where do they live? What would she or he feel in a certain situation? How do they express themselves, what kind of voice do they use, what are their demons, how do they relate to other people. I also need to be able to know the landscape they inhabit – landscape is hugely important to me. I can’t imagine a character unless I can see the place they come from and live in. The same is true for acting. It’s all about being highly specific, and not generalising – drawing on my own experience and also doing the necessary research.

Which literary works have most influenced your writing?

There are many, although DH Lawrence’s Sons and Lovers was the first adult novel I read in my early teens, and made a great impression on me. The working-class background of Paul Morel reminded me very much of my Lancastrian grandparents. I went on to read all Lawrence’s novels. And I do remember, round about age 13 at Peebles High School, being absolutely blown away by Robert Frost’s poem Out, Out – . I was completely fired up and wrote an essay about it. Émile Zola and Lewis Grassic Gibbon were hugely important writers to me in my teens. Gradually, I discovered women’s writing, which we weren’t taught at school – Nan Shepherd, Edna O’Brien, Carol Shields, and I love the poetry of Imtiaz Dharker and Ellen Bass. I also admire the poetry of Michael Longley and Wendell Berry – the latter’s short stories are brilliant too. And the plays of Brian Friel.

Deadlines: do you love or loathe them?

I’m always glad of a deadline, in spite of the initial little flutter of panic. I’d never write anything if I waited for inspiration. I think it’s vital, as a professional, to be able to write to order, mundane as that may sound. But, in any case, I always have a whole bank of ideas waiting in the store-room of my mind.

Ever suffer from writer's block?

I haven’t so far. Mostly I thoroughly enjoy writing. Sometimes, especially with a poem, if I feel I’m wading around in mud, I’ll try to push through the difficulty. I don’t allow myself to be scared by what may, initially, look like failure. I’ve learned to trust there’s probably something there, and keep digging. But sometimes, if I’m struggling, I’ll leave it, and move on to something else. I’ll often find that when I return to a piece I’ve left, the subconscious has done valuable work for me in the interim.

Any well-thumbed reference books?

I have an old Roget’s Thesaurus, which I love. Writing my poetry collection QUINES: Poems in Tribute to Women of Scotland, involved a vast amount of research. I initially used the Biographical Dictionary of Scottish Women – a brilliant book – and also ordered masses of out-of-print books on and by the women I wanted to write about. I use the internet too, which is invaluable, as long as you double and triple-check the sources.

Are there downsides to the writer's life?

I’m definitely more available to all and sundry working from home. Both my mother and my husband are elderly, increasingly frail, and I’m their taxi service for their medical appointments. My daughter has Down’s Syndrome, and needs support too. I’m the go-to person for shopping, cooking, mending plugs etc. If I’m writing in a sustained way, I tend to get all the domestic stuff organised in advance so that I can arrange a clean sweep of time to myself. But I don’t see this as a downside – my family grounds me, and my mother, in particular, is my rock. At 89, she still helps me a lot. I try not to worry too much about organisation of my working life, just get on with it, and do what I can do.

When do you clock off?

I’m afraid my work can seep into any time of day, including weekends, and late at night. I’m a night bird. I don’t have a regular finishing time. My whole life is a constant improvisation!

What do you hope readers will take from Letting Go?

Obviously, I hope people will enjoy it. Some of it is fictionalised autobiography, other elements are based on local history, and on people I’ve known – carefully disguised, of course. I hope the book will perhaps give insight into lives lived in the past and present here in Scotland, and into those that may be lived in what looks like a precarious future. There’s a deliberately global reach to the book – we’re all connected, and, in some ways, I’m attempting to give voice to those who are often not heard. I also hope readers will enjoy the humour.

What are you working on now?

I’m writing a second book of short stories. I’ve almost completed a third poetry collection, and I’ve an idea for a play, based on the life of one of the women I discovered when researching for my book, QUINES.

Letting Go: A Timeline of Tales by Gerda Stevenson is published by Luath Press, £8.99