back to blogThe Unexpected Email
Back in January 2024, I got an email that made me do a double-take — I honestly thought it was spam. A publisher was asking if I’d consider writing a book. They’d seen that I ran workshops and thought I might have the skills and knowledge to pull everything from my head and turn it into something people would actually want to read.
Like most artists, I’m used to being bombarded with random, spammy emails, so I forwarded it straight to my other half (who’s a writer) with the comment: this’ll make you laugh — me, writing a book! Of course, we had a good chuckle — he more than me, since he knows I don’t really do words. Still, I sent a polite reply asking for a bit more information.
It turned out to be real. A few months later, a synopsis was written, a contract was drawn up, and I began working on my first sample chapter so the publishers could see if I was on the right track. Eighteen months on from that first email, my book is published — and I still can’t quite believe it.
The brief was to write a book with some “how-to” elements, aimed at the professional artist. I was set a target of 50,000 words and around 200 images. But honestly — where do you even start? The longest thing I’d ever written was my Master’s dissertation, and that was nowhere near this length.
Teaching gave me a solid foundation, but writing about my practice was another challenge altogether. When I first began teaching, I had to unlearn how I paint — to pull apart instinctive processes and explain them step by step. Writing demanded the same kind of reflection, but with far fewer visual cues and a lot more words.
I worried I didn’t have enough to say to fill a whole book. But the bigger worry was feeling like a fraud. Did they really mean to contact me, or did they think I was another artist? Do I actually know what I’m talking about? No! Haha—but seriously, the publishers, Crowood Press, and Rachel, the commissioning editor in particular, were so lovely. She reassured me: “Paula, this is about your experience, your ideas, and your opinions.” That was enough to calm the nerves.
Meanwhile, I still needed to earn a living — running workshops, producing new paintings, and keeping up with gallery commitments. I thought I could juggle it all, but soon realised I needed a proper stretch of uninterrupted time. I’ll share more about that in the next episode of this blog.
Writing Atmospheric Landscapes: Using Oils and Cold Wax turned out to be as much about understanding my own process as it was about sharing it. It forced me to slow down, to articulate what had become instinctive, and in doing so, I saw my practice with new eyes. I discovered that writing — much like painting — is about rhythm, patience, and finding the right balance between control and intuition.
And if I’m honest, the greatest lesson was this: sometimes the projects you never planned for turn out to be the ones that teach you the most.
Book details:
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Publisher: The Crowood Press Ltd
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ISBN-10: 0719845513
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ISBN-13: 978-0719845512
