How I create… with writer Ruth Ivo

To describe Ivo’s career as varied is perhaps something of an understatement.

Aside from her time as a showgirl she has been employed scaring children on a Blackpool ghost ride, organising areas at Glastonbury festival, and directing an X-rated variety show at ‘The Club’. And now this breadth of experiences has been laid bare on the page in Ivo’s latest incarnation as writer. 

Performance: A Misadventure in Soho offers a portrait of this occasionally bawdy, occasionally glittering, always seductive corner of London that few could be better qualified to tell. It follows ‘Ruby’ into the glamour and darkness of the cabaret world through the backstreets and backrooms and out onto its stages.

In November 2024 Ivo joined us as part of our London Literature Festival to discuss the novel with Octavia Bright in a special event featuring live cabaret performances. Ahead of which she gave us this insight into her creative process.

When and where do you find yourself at your most creative?

In the final moments before falling asleep. I’ll wake myself up to jot things in my phone or leave myself a voice note to find in the morning. There’s something special about that half-dreaming state; connections you might not make when fully conscious. It doesn’t always work, sometimes the notes are gibberish. Long walks too, help shake the ideas loose – in nature if I need clarity, or the city if I need material; people-watching and surreal moments.

How do you know when an idea is worth developing into something more?

Sometimes an idea might drift around my brain for years, in various forms, until the day it ‘downloads’ as something I can work with – that ‘yes’ feeling. After that, lots of other random scraps, mental flotsam and jetsam, will adhere to the main idea, adding layers.

Which tools are key to your creative process?

In no particular order; tea and coffee; a quiet space or room of one’s own. I’m very lucky that my family own a small flat in Nice where I go whenever I need to disappear into my ‘writing cave’ for a while. Starting the day swimming in the sea is the best tool for writing I know. Other essentials include my phone for making notes and recordings, and Google, of course. I’d be nowhere without an online thesaurus. I also like re-reading favourite books to remind myself how good writing can be.

Who are you creating your work for, and how free are you to create the work you want to create?

I create work for anyone who chooses to give it their time. I’m inspired by the range of readers who’ve found their way to Performance, it’s exciting when people engage with your work who might not have any experience of the subject matter. Creative freedom, to me, is connected to being unafraid. It’s important to be brave and dig deep – lean into the discomfort. A friend of mine recently sent me an interview with Erykah Badu describing art as ‘the absence of fear.’ I loved that. Some of the things I write about are quite hardcore, but if you write it true, you can find beauty even in the most shocking material.

How do you stay disciplined, and dedicated to your work?

Writing is my peace, and is essential to my wellbeing so it’s easy to be dedicated. Saying that, when it comes to individual projects, it’s about carving out the time and then protecting that time – phone on silent, saying no to things – and sitting at my desk no matter how I’m feeling that day. Attempting some kind of work-life balance is key, too. I can’t write if I’m stressed-out, so try to build things into my week that feed my soul.

What do you do when you hit a wall; when you feel unmotivated or uninspired? How do you overcome this?

I haven’t yet experienced the dread of writer’s block, but I’ve been through extended periods of doubt when I can’t ‘see’ what I’m writing anymore, unsure if I’ll ever get it to work. You have to hold your nerve and keep going. If I need inspiration I’ll go to an exhibition or museum, or see a show – theatre, music, dance, anything that creates a spark. My best advice would be don’t panic. Put whatever you’re working on away and go and do something else for a while. Let the light in.

Who do you look to for feedback?

I have a circle of trusted readers. My friend Sarah Fielding, an incredible director and dramaturg, always brings a different perspective. I also have a beloved workshop group I met on my MA creative writing at Birkbeck, we’ve been meeting regularly since we graduated. And I often turn to my former tutor, Russell Ceyln Jones, and very clever agent, John Ash, for sage advice.

How different is your creative process now to when you first began as an artist?

Well, I’m mama to a three-year-old now, so everything is different! I’m much less precious about my process, and I’m time poor, so no more waiting around for the right wind before settling down to work. If I get the opportunity for even an hour, I’m there. I’m also less scared – once you’ve completed one book and got it over the line, you know you can do it again – and more confident in my abilities, which always makes it easier to go for the things you want.

What does success feel like?

I’m like most people I think, that as soon as I’ve achieved something I’ll move the goalposts again. The best thing about having a book in the world is feedback from people whose work you admire, who ‘get’ what you’re trying to do. And from people you care about. When someone tells you your work meant something to them, that it took them to an emotional place, you can’t ask for more than that. If you’ve given a project your absolute best, knowing that can feel like success.

Is there a piece of advice you’ve received that you often find yourself returning to?

I’ve returned, more than once, to Body Work by Melissa Febos – an essential book for anyone attempting to write memoir. I also enjoy learning about the practice of other writers. Maya Angelou used to keep a hotel room a short walk from her house. She’d go there at dawn and spend the morning on the bed, with her yellow legal pads, a bottle of sherry, some playing cards, a dictionary and a bible, and use them in whatever order felt right that day. My takeaway from that is there isn’t only one way to write – do whatever works for you.

What’s the most recent thing you learned about yourself through your work?

That I overuse the words ‘pale’, ‘orange’ and ‘electric’ in my writing.

How do you know when you’re done?

Immoveable deadlines. I’m quite obsessive, so left to my own devices I’d remain in editing purgatory forever, moving commas back and forth. I like to record myself reading everything I’ve written out loud, which is very time consuming but worth it. If it sounds good to the ear, it generally reads well on the page.