There are many things that Britain is famous for: Big Ben, The Queen, Rugby, and our general desire to conquer other countries, building huge colonising empires. But the people are also famous. I'm not talking about the likes of David Beckham, or Paul McCartney. I'm talking about all of us. Together. The collective personality of our nation. The fact we love to queue and will quietly complain when the rest of Europe fails to recognise our orderly ranks of two by two that we have willingly formed like the animals of Noah's Ark. The fact if you tread on our toe, we are likely to apologise to you, when what we really mean "Oi, you just stepped on my foot, you stupid sod". Then there is our ability for self deprecation. We love to sell ourselves short. People are drawn to our self deprecating wit by the truck load. Apparently it also makes men more attractive to the fairer sex. Just think of how the world fell in love with Hugh Grant. Trumpet blowers who go on and on about their own achievements and success might in other cultures be praised for their confidence and standing, but in the UK we will tear you down quicker than you can climb back onto your self built pedestal.
Now I might be British, and I might love our quaint little culture, but I also love a good trumpet blower. I love people who are confident and loud and full of themselves. Maybe I have learnt to, after all I do live in the depths of the Mediterranean where here speaking your mind is an absolute must unless you want to get lost in the overtly expressive crowd. However, I am still quick to admit my short comings. My self deprecating abilities have stood firm against the will of society. So today, when I stumbled upon the phrase Mimetic Writing (hang on just checking I spelt that right) I was rather disappointed to realise I had no idea what it meant. The thing is you see, once you’ve written a book (and all of you writers know that sense of pride of what is surely a brilliant achievement) you feel somewhat of a literary genius. “I wrote a book,” you will say to yourself. “I even published it. How could I possibly not know?” As long as you don’t say anything out loud of course.
So I did a bit of googling, and I have come across a wonderful article (click here). I want to share it with you, because I couldn't possibly have written it any better myself. So thank you to Mary Kole, of kidlit.com, for not only answering my question, but also giving me a great big slice of advice, such that once my current WIP is finished in the next two weeks I will be taking it with me on the journey of the first edit. A journey of which will be awful. Because I'll have made loads of mistakes. Because I'm sure I could have done it better. Maybe I shouldn’t be a writer after all. Oops, sorry, yeah forgot where I live now. It's going to be absolutely brilliant!