AMP: Artists' Meeting Place and Resource Collective

So you want to pull a Henry James, a Hemingway, you’re sure that everyone in Europe will be interested in your take on what it’s like to be a foreigner in a foreign land. Rule one: They’re not. End of story.

Now that that’s out of the way, let me tell you how to meet all your expectations of being an English language writer in Europe – have none. Rule two.

Rule three is probably the most important – there are no rules.

So how did I do it? Honestly, there are quite a few moments when I look around and wonder what I’m doing myself... and how I managed to be doing it. Somehow I managed to become an editor on a national newspaper and have a radio show in a country in which I neither spoke, wrote or read the language well... oh I can do my daily shopping, but work with it... not a chance.

Now I don’t say this with pride, but I’ve lived in the Netherlands for more than seven years and I’m not even close to being fluent –and have no intention of trying to be. Why? Because it’s not my paint mate. I am a writer – I work with works, I create with the paint that is the language I love... and know. Asking me to create with another medium is like giving a sculptor a palette of oil paints and telling him to ‘get to it’... that’s not how it works. The English language is my palette –I know that and I know myself well enough to know that, that is something that isn’t going to change. I can buy my eggs in Dutch, but I can’t discuss which comes first, the kip or those Dam eggs.

But enough of the language, that will all come in time... as does everything I’m told. I’ve committed myself to telling you how I managed to get myself to the land of the ‘tall taal’ – the Dutch are known to be the tallest nation on the earth.... though they are renowned for not putting their heads above the crowd... don’t be TOO different... ah... that is a blog for another date....

How did I find myself here – I Blinked... If luck is opportunity meeting preparedness, I was lucky on a holiday in Turkey early one summer... I was there recovering from a, then, broken heart, when I met a n older couple from Holland. Funnily, within five minutes of contact, I knew that they were going to tell me something important – and I shared this strange knowledge with my travelling companion – who, as usual, smiled and nodded... she knows me well.

Smiling and nodding aside, I was right, there was something important – after sniffing me like members of a pack of hounds, I was told, “You don’t belong in England, come to Holland – there is a place for you there.” I’d never been before, I knew no one, other than them, and I certainly spoke no Dutch; and yet, I agreed to come and visit them for a weekend.... funnily enough, it fit. I was ready for a change and this was certainly that.

Okay, I copped out, let’s be honest... it was here or Paris, I was finished with London – really finished with London – but I knew that as an Anglophone, living in Anglo-speaking Amsterdam was going to be easier than living in lingual-rigid Paris... which is something every English language speaker has to figure in when relocating.
So I’ve arrived, now what – get a job. Well, that’s not that difficult in Amsterdam; it just depends on what kind of job you want... after several adventures I was introduced to a small local magazine, Dvoice, and I offered my services to them as a columnist.

My idea was simple, I’m alone in a city where I know no one, but I’m a social animal and want to go out – how do I go out alone without a) looking like a psycho, or b) looking like a whore – at least to the locals gathered at the bar. The way I found was to create a character, Kay Lacey, and write a column about just that problem, only it was Kay’s problems I wrote about, not mine – at least that’s what I told my editor.

Luck, as is often the case in Amsterdam, played a huge part in my career as a writer. I did not set out to be a writer, let alone a journalist. My background is in theatre, I was an actress, and frankly, the only writing I was doing was either for the stage, or for my poetry performances. Even so, at one point Dvoice was handed to me; I was given the job of editor (which also included being head writer, sales person and bottle washer).

Dvoice had a short shelf life, as had so many other English language publications in the city... perhaps Kay is the best remembered of all the features, solely because she was adopted by the gay club scene... they were far more interested in Kay’s social life than mine! How disappointed they’d have been if they knew the truth!
Following this I was told that the only English language national newspaper (a weekly) was looking for proofreaders – well I can do that, I thought, so I contacted them – only to be asked to take on an editorial position... luck lurks around every corner in this town.

Somehow I managed to bag the job of Arts and Entertainment Editor for the Amsterdam/Hague/Rotterdam Times – a readership of over 100,000 every Friday – and access to some of the most interesting interviews I could imagine: Madelaine Albright, Tom Wolfe, John Irving...

Of course being the plankton of the media business (a writer) meant that the pay was puny – at best – so freelancing was something that had to be done – and I was lucky enough to pick up gigs with a couple of magazines – which I still work for today.

After my tenure at the Times I helped write a travel guide and kept freelancing, till I was asked to be editor of one of the magazines I’d been freelancing for – there was that luck again...

So... can it be done? Can you come to Amsterdam and, not knowing the language, forge a career as an English language writer? Sure, I did it – but I wouldn’t recommend it... there’s not many jobs like that going around ... and I've snagged most of them.

These days I'm not only writing (for the mags and for film), but I'm part of the English Breakfast radio crew... yep, I'm still communicating in Holland... and I still don't speak Dutch...! How's that possible... I'll tell you more in my next blog... !