Who are you?

Susie Maguire.

What do you write?

I write fiction, mostly. Stories of all shapes and sizes. It started in the mid ‘80s with improvising comic characters for stage, then using them on TV, and on the comedy circuit. By the ‘90s I found myself writing short stories. I finally gathered courage enough to send one to a radio producer at BBC Scotland who accepted it. That opened a door for me to try all sorts of other voices and stories and I loved the opportunity to explore them, first via radio, then in print, and finally in two collections, The Short Hello (2000) and Furthermore (2005). I’ve also written two plays for radio and, more recently, two sets of three-part stories for Radio 4, I Got the Dog and Portrait.

It was 1998 when another writer said ‘do you know about ALCS’ and I had no idea what the acronym stood for and was rather suspicious about joining anything.

Do you have a ‘day’ job?

It will sound pretentious, but: being me is my day job. Shuffling my energies in the direction of finding ways to commune and connect. Practically speaking, though, there are things I do other than writing, but which connect to it. I’ve been an Arvon tutor, and I find those communal weeks rewarding and inspiring. I co-tutored the inaugural course for The Story House in Ireland, which was great. Through a literary development agency I’ve done quite a bit of editorial work, manuscript appraisals, mentoring projects with writers at varying stages, and that’s very interesting, as it draws not only on my own experience as a writer but also as a long-time book reviewer and avid reader. I’ve also given workshops and one-to-ones on presentation and performance, sort of rehearsals for writers who have public events coming up, helping them find their presence and use their voice comfortably, to best serve their words.

How useful do you find social media and/or blogging?

At a certain point in 2011, when I was campaigning about something important to me (the cuts to the BBC Radio 4 Short Story – aka Afternoon Reading – slot), I plunged deeply into social media mode. I had already been on Twitter for a while, but very quietly. As soon as I had decided to stick my neck over the parapet about the BBC’s decision, I set up a blog. Tweeting about that topic was hugely time-consuming, and did nothing to help my RSI, but it brought lots of signatures to a petition, and when there were updates to the situation, or when another wave of professional agitation swept through me, I’d blog about it, so that all the detail was on record, and links were easy to find. The two methods helped each other. But now that blog is just an archive.
 
I plan to renovate my ancient personal website  and may add blog-capacity to it, but I already do plenty of blethering on Twitter – as @WrathOfGod – so perhaps a blog isn’t necessary. I’ve never liked Facebook and cannot be found upon it. I’m too busy/lazy to amplify myself on all other possible platforms. In fact, I don’t see Twitter as a marketing thing at all. If I have a new story on air, I’ll mention it, but mostly I’m just there for the conversations with people I’d never otherwise meet. I don’t flog myself at people, because I find that repellent, whether as flogger or as floggee. 
 
Any author considering their own public profile can probably work out what outlet will best suit their temperament. Do you want to connect spontaneously, and play games of wit and repartee? Do you prefer to read and write longer, considered pieces? To fire out weekly bursts about your work progress? To emit only official information about your back catalogue or future publications? The answers are in there.

How long have you been an ALCS member and how did you hear about us?

It was 1998 when another writer said “do you know about ALCS” and I had no idea what the acronym stood for and was rather suspicious about joining anything. Then he used the expression “free money”, explaining it was cunningly retrieved from mysterious sources for works already published or transmitted. Within days of inquiring I discovered a couple of hundred quid waiting for me, and was a convert.

It reminds me, on days when the world’s value system seems incomprehensible, why I write, and why people read.

For what sort of uses of your work do you receive royalties from ALCS?

At first it was mostly for short stories which had been broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and were then received by ears in other bits of Europe: Belgium, Ireland, Netherlands. Then there are lots of small, odd amounts, payments for photocopying of texts, stories published in anthologies, or in my own two collections, and sometimes one or two stories would have a crossover, being both in print and on radio, perhaps a couple of years apart, each bringing a little bonus in due course, as long as I remembered to update my info. In the early years, I would send an elaborate over-detailed email to ALCS alerting them to a radio broadcast date and they would update it; now I log in and do it.

Which is your most surprising source of ALCS income?

When it says ‘miscellaneous fees’ … Each time I see that I get a strange frisson. I have no idea what they are. There’s a scene in Jean Cocteau’s film Orphée, in which Orpheus listens to surreal messages on the radio set of a beautiful old car. That’s what comes into my mind when I think of stories being disseminated in ways beyond my comprehension.

In an era when it seems as if the Corporate Entertainment Factory is sucking the marrow out of creators and artists, the existence of an organisation which pursues funds on behalf of individuals is something for which to be hugely grateful.

Which is your highest-earning work from ALCS income?

There was one comic story, first broadcast on Radio 4 in 1994, which was then abridged and published in an an educational text book for teaching English as a foreign language. It has remained in print in various editions ever since. That strange little story has been my most successful royalty earner across the whole spectrum of output, including revenue from ALCS. The amounts have not in themselves been impressive – you could probably spend more on a weekend for two in Mallaig, not counting the fish supper – but the fact that something I wrote (out of sadness really, with not much hope but a kind of wild energy) has continued to appeal to people is so pleasing. It reminds me, on days when the world’s value system seems incomprehensible, why I write, and why people read.

In an era when it seems as if the Corporate Entertainment Factory is sucking the marrow out of creators and artists, the existence of an organisation which pursues funds on behalf of individuals is something for which to be hugely grateful.

How important are your ALCS payments to you as a writer?

Very. Some years they’ve formed a good percentage of my overall earnings. Perhaps more to the point, there’s a psychological boost that means more than the digital sum. In an era when it seems as if the Corporate Entertainment Factory is sucking the marrow out of creators and artists, the existence of an organisation which pursues funds on behalf of individuals is something for which to be hugely grateful.

Are you aware of any potential threats to your ALCS income?

Yes and no. I don’t have a business brain, I fail to grasp details of financial issues, and therefore I don’t know if my feelings about this are reliable. I’ve always lived on crumbs, without a ‘career’ plan, and have had to reinvent myself when necessary; e.g. from comedian to television presenter to short story writer to book columnist to mentor and tutor and editor, and in loops and circles around those points on the map. But it feels as if the pillars which used to hold up our cultural lives are crumbling somewhat. Fiction appears to be lauded in terms of competitions and awards, rather than as the daily bread (and butter) which supports our much-lauded entertainment industries at the highest end of the scale. As media formats change, so does access, or should I say ‘gatekeeping’. Where the BBC was the natural home for the short story, it’s now less so. Pathways from one kind of writing to another used to be easier, too. If this sounds like someone noticing the shadows rather than the light, ladies and gentlemen, please forgive me for forgetting to fire up the positivity lantern today.

Whatever I do, I hope that I will find a way towards readers or listeners, in miscellaneous and mysterious ways.

What does the future hold for you as a writer?

Reinvention … again. I’m writing something novel-shaped. Actually I’m writing two things. One is dramatic and dark, the other is playful and comical. They might both work out. Also, just this week as I wandered around a Shelter shop, I heard a new character voice in my head, just a line which suggested a method of amplifying an existing story trilogy, so that it could become a much larger book-sized, connected set of stories. However, I’m generally reluctant to say much about future plans because it can kill the spark needed to get them done. The little spark that lights that positivity lantern.
 
Whatever I do, I hope that I will find a way towards readers or listeners, in miscellaneous and mysterious ways.

Susie Maguire was an actor, comedian and television presenter for many years before she began writing fiction. She is author of two short-story collections and editor of four anthologies, including the all-women Little Black Dress. Over thirty of her own short stories have been broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and BBC Radio Scotland. An Arvon tutor, she works with Moniack Mhor and The Story House Ireland, and is a mentor for the WoMentoring project. She is currently co-editing New Writing Scotland.

ALCS is a long-time advocate of short stories, and has supported a number of initiatives supporting the form, including The V.S. Pritchett Memorial Prize, an award for high-quality unpublished short stories, run by the Royal Society of Literature.