I remember, as a child, reading about Roald Dahl escaping to his ‘writing hut’ when he was working on a novel. This was eight-year-old Anna’s idea of heaven. Sitting in a pop-up play tent in our back garden, I dreamt of the day I could have my own writing haven.
I hadn’t realised just how fantastical this dream was.
A writing hut was out of my family’s budget to say the least.
Growing up in a working-class family from Preston, our family had wanted an actual garage for longer than I can remember. Our garage was so run-down that one sneeze would be the equivalent of a bomb exploding. A single, rotting wooden beam stretched across the length, the only thing preventing the roof from caving in. When you looked up, you could see the sky through the holes in the roof.
My parents did everything they could to encourage my writing, but there were just other, more important things to consider in the weekly budget than financing my hobby.
As a child, I thought writer’s block would be the biggest obstacle to my success. But as I’ve grown up, I’ve become more class-conscious. I’ve began to realise that money and class privilege are far bigger factors.
For a writer like myself, from a northern, working-class background, it is too easy to feel like a marginalised voice. It is too easy to question where you fit into the industry, both as a writer and a reader. In most of the novels I read, rarely do I find characters with backgrounds and experiences I can relate to.
Yes, many middle-class writers have written from working-class perspectives. But I don’t believe that middle-class writers writing about working-class issues can truly understand and appreciate the full picture.
The years of saving for a holiday abroad; monthly worries about paying the credit card bill, the stresses of growing up with frequent redundancies in the family. Unless you have experienced the working-class culture, unless you are part of that environment, I’m not sure how well you can convey that experience.
The working-class has almost become a cliché in literature. The failing electric meter, the charity shop searches for new clothes, houses riddled with damp. All these stereotypes are just that – stereotypes.
The working-class experience is a spectrum, not a ‘one size fits all’.
It is far more complex, far more individualised.
Being working-class is not necessarily about a struggle for survival.
For many people, the working-class status is a part of our heritage, not a label of poverty. But while it is part of our identity, it is not the sum of it.
Here in Preston, I think most people would describe themselves as working-class. Cities like ours that once thrived on the weaving industries now suffer from some of the highest redundancy rates in the country. It is these cities that are the epitome of the working-class experience. These are the cities where there are voices that deserve to be heard, writers who have unique experiences to share.
My identity is made up of a complex web of belonging. I am a Catholic, a daughter, a sister, a student, a northerner. While these are individually important, it is the interweaving of these that make me who I am. I am proud to be from a working-class background, but there is so much more to my identity than just this.
There are few writers who can accurately portray what this all means; the complex relationship between an individual’s working-class identity and the societal label. But we need more writers who will share this. We need it to be easier for writers from all backgrounds to have their work published.
Something in this industry needs to change. We don’t want a shift – we need a total transformation.
We need someone to listen, to decide that our voices are worth hearing, that we have something important to say. And this is not exclusive to working-class writers, these issues affect writers from a variety of backgrounds, with experiences that give us fresh perspectives.
Until these walls are broken down, the writing and publishing industries will remain inaccessible to writers like myself.
I might not be grammar-school, Oxbridge educated, but this doesn’t make my writing worth any less than the writers who are. And it doesn’t make them worth any less than me.
Difference should be embraced, especially in the creative industries where diversity and freedom of expression should be celebrated.
The market is a vast place, and there is room for everyone.
Anna's Adventures 