Tag Archives: writers

Folded Peace – A Poem

Folded Peace

Folded Peace

Were I to fold one thousand pages

Into one thousand cranes

Will I have erased enough

Print onto my fingers

That I may wash it away?

 

I fold despair into wings

 

Each page I fold

Is a prayer for peace

A flock tied like a kite’s tail

To let serenity slipstream

Over a tattered fringe of feathers

 

And give flight to hope

Why Shouldn’t I Continue to Read Your Novel?

Why Shouldn’t I Continue To Read Your Novel?

Coming across a couple of posts recently about when a writer/reader gives up reading a novel, I noticed a trend when a writer/reader will stop:  

  • when there’s little or no action to propel the narrative
  • lingering descriptions of ennui or minutiae (or the weather)
  • back story or info dumping (yes, I agree with this)
  • bad writing (yes, I’ll stop reading too)

The current literary aesthetic favours action over reflection, sacrificing the evocative power of language for a fast-food mentality of plot and writing.

Why not let language and words evoke scene, history and character idiosyncrasies, rather than simply pushing a plot along?

Literature is about plot and character and narrative tension, but it’s also about exploring the ennui of life, and why they are important, and the macro aspects of grand overarching themes in minute detail.

I want to read a fast-paced action story and I want to read a story that lingers on the little, unimportant things. I can have both. Trends be damned.

I want to enter the world the author has created, to see how they see the world and enjoy their word play, not consigned to reading a novel written within an artificial and constricted set of literary rules.

Writing is as much about observing and recording life’s details and universal abstract concepts as it is in participating and communicating, being involved with others, doing the action, and reading should be the same.

Create Because It Counts

We create not for fame.

Not for money.

Not for recognition.

Not for glory.

Not for the praise of others.

We create because it counts.

This principle came out of an article on pianist James Rhoades, “Find What You Love and Let It Kill You” from The Guardian newspaper in the UK.

Create because it counts.

James put himself through an extreme, almost ascetic regime: “no income for five years, six hours a day of intense practice, monthly four-day long lessons with a brilliant and psychopathic teacher in Verona, a hunger for something that was so necessary it cost me my marriage, nine months in a mental hospital, most of my dignity and about 35lbs in weight.”

I do not connect with the extremism (yet I can see the validity in it if you want to take something as far as you can go) but I do connect with the emotional response he has when he has put in the time and practice to learn and master a new piece of music; I apply it to writing.

“And yet. The indescribable reward of taking a bunch of ink on paper from the shelf … Tubing it home, setting the score, pencil, coffee and ashtray on the piano and emerging a few days, weeks or months later able to perform something … A piece of music that will always baffle the greatest minds in the world, that simply cannot be made sense of, that is still living and floating in the ether and will do so for yet more centuries to come. That is extraordinary. And I did that. I do it, to my continual astonishment, all the time.”

This is what counts: the emotional connection in creating, and in mastering a skill.

It is about the experience of joy in any creative endeavour. The joy in folding an origami crane for the first time; completing a short story; learning a new chord for guitar; finishing a water colour painting.

Doing it because it brings you a sense of completeness and wholeness as a person.

We do not have to go to the same extremities as James but his encouragement goes further to explore the “What if’s…?”

What if we used our time more wisely? Spent less time wasted on social media and engage in a creative activity? Spent a little bit of money to start a creative pastime like painting or photography? Knit? Crochet? Took our phone, shot some footage and made a short film? Used our time to engage with others in a writers’ circle? Wrote the story or novel we have been aching to tell for decades?

What if…?

So many possibilities. So many options.

And we create because it counts for something.

It counts for the children whose father draws a new picture on their lunch bag EVERY SINGLE DAY.

It counts for the short story writer, novelist or picture book writer creating worlds for others to inhabit.

It counts for the musician sitting in a cafe playing her guitar to six people.

It counts for the grandmother making a quilt as an heirloom for her grandchild.

It counts for the child who discovers the joy of the world through the lens of a camera and documents his journey to and from school every day.

It counts for the dancer at the bar, perfecting a pirouette.

It counts because we need stories and art and music and film and theatre and dance.

Creativity liberates your spirit. It enriches who you are, and the people who engage with your work.

Creativity is a mentality of giving; giving to yourself and others.

Creativity costs in terms of commitment, of sacrifice, of dedication.

You create because it counts.

What Happens When You Reach ‘The End?’

In the early hours of Wednesday morning, my collaborative writing partner, Jodi Cleghorn, and I finished writing the first draft of our epistolary narrative Post Marked: Piper’s Reach.

We are separated by distance, living in different states in Australia and have written this novel by handwriting the letters and sending them via the post. Yes, we wrote 85,500 words BY HAND.

Fortuitously, for the first time we were able to sit down together in the one place and write the final installments.

If you want to know what Post Marked: Piper’s Reach is all about, here’s the blurb:

In December 1992 Ella-Louise Wilson boarded the Greyhound Coach for Sydney leaving behind the small coastal town of Piper’s Reach and her best friend and soul mate, Jude Smith. After twenty years of silence, a letter arrives at Piper’s Reach reopening wounds that never really healed.

When the past reaches into the future, is it worth risking a second chance?

Post Marked: Piper’s Reach is an ambitious collaborative project traversing an odd path between old and new forms of communication, differing modalities of storytelling and mixed media, all played out in real and suspended time. The project has at its heart a love of letter writing and music.

The letters are handwritten and posted in “real time.”

“To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart.” ~ Phyllis Theroux

photo 2 copy

And now we have written “The End.” The story is finished.

This is the first significant piece of writing I have completed apart from flash fiction. It is the first novel I have written (I have another currently in the works that I began last year but have put on hold for a number of reasons).

How do I feel?

I feel excitement at having completed the novel; joy and relief; a sense of accomplishment because of what I have completed, and with it also, I feel sadness.

Coming to the end of this project brings with it a whole series of conclusions and endings.

  • The ending of the narrative and the story of Ella-Louise and Jude.

We have had such an emotional investment in our characters and their intertwined lives that coming to ‘The End’ is like the passing of a dear friend. I wrote the character Jude while Jodi wrote the character Ella-Louise and for the better part of 16 months we have lived with these characters. We keep saying we’ll need some therapy to get through the tumultuous times our characters experienced. And vicariously we have too, reading each letter through the lens of our character and as a reader.

We were sitting at opposite ends of my dining room table, writing the final lines. When we finished, we handed them over to be read. There were tears, stunned silences and a gutted feeling that it was all over.

  • The end of the interaction with our small, but dedicated, core of readers who we dubbed “Posties.”

They engaged with the characters and the writing, commenting on the weekly letter, discussing the characters’ motivations, arguing over what should or should not happen to the characters.

Over on the Facebook page we had long conversations with the Posties, ran contests and trivia, and had a whole lot of fun.

And we will feel the sorrow of the ending all over again when our readers get to ‘The End’ in about 8 weeks’ time.

  • The ending of the collaborative partnership.

Jodi pitched the idea to me in January, 2012 after we met for the first time in real life in December the year before. She runs eMergent Publishing and I had the privilege of working with her to have my first two short stories published. Our friendship developed and grew as we worked together, and when we met in real life it was like we had known each other for decades.

After the initial pitch we spent three days brainstorming by text and the first letter arrived later that month.

Since that time we have worked closely together during this project and it has been an exhilarating journey.

It was not a traditional collaboration; rather than plan and talk through ideas on the plot and structure, we let it develop in an organic way in what we came to term the “No Spoilers Policy.” Without discussing plot and ideas it kept the writing, and anticipation, fresh as we waited for the arrival of the postman to deliver the next letter.

We spent hours talking and deconstructing each letter after it arrived and we had read it. You can hear about our process of writing and what we learned as writers in an audio interview we did with Sean Wright (@SeandBlogonaut) over on his blog.

But our collaboration (but not our friendship) has come to en end, and with it, a strong sense of sadness.

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After ‘The End’

With the writing of ‘The End’ comes a feeling of finality (at least temporarily), that the initial phase of writing and drafting is finished and complete. Yet the end of a draft is only one step in the path to publication.

Now comes the time to put it all aside for a while, let it sit and be forgotten about until it comes time for editing.

This is then followed by synopsis writing, query letters and the like; but that’s in the future (we have big dreams for this novel).

After ‘The End’ comes a new project. For me it will be a novella, some short pieces, a picture book and a multimedia project.

Envelope Addressed

What Next?

‘The End’ does not mean I stop. It means I begin the next step in the process. I begin writing new material. I begin editing other projects before I return to the manuscript of Post Marked: Piper’s Reach and polish it ready for submission.

Reaching ‘The End’ is only one part of the process, because for a writer, there is always another story to tell.

Tempest’s Questions – A Poem

Tempest’s Questions

Tempest's Questions

In the darkness

of the tempest

twixt Faith and Doubt

who dares wake the

sleeper in the prow?

Hands – A Poem

Hands

Hands 1Hands 2Hands 3Hands 4

My hands are a fence

to hold you within

or keep you out

I hold out my hand

In love + trust, security + hope

a protection from fear

I clench my fist and strike

in malice; in protest

in reaction; with intent

I open my hand as a flower

A gesture of comfort and sympathy

A lover’s caress and tender touch

To soothe wounds and help you rise

In friendship we clasp and I know

Your strength and you know mine

I can close the doors against you

or open the gates

and welcome you home

My Enemy – A Poem

The genesis of these lines started last night and take on greater significance in the light of today’s events.

In fact, every day is a day to #lovethyneighbour

My enemy planted a brick
and grew a wall of hate
I planted a tree beside
the wall and showed
how love creeps in

My Enemy

I Paved The Road…

I Paved The Road

I paved the road

less travelled

And that has

made all the

difference

#streetpoetry

What If I Don’t “Make It?”

What if I don’t make it?

This is a question that confronts every new and emerging writer. 

I am a new and emerging writer and I have confronted it.

Armed with a new pen, a Moleskine notebook and a dream, you set out to become a writer. But at some point the blind ambition comes face to face with the reality of the publishing industry.

It’s like having an experience with a face hugger from the movie Alien; you know at some point a xenomorph will burst out of your chest, killing you and then feed on the remnants of your dream of being a writer.

Despite every scrap of determination, every skerrick of aptitude, every committed moment of diligence, every hour of writing spent honing your craft, every fortune cookie predicting an ambiguous uncertainty of guaranteed success, there is no guarantee of you “making it” as a writer.

Alan Baxter recently hosted a blog series, The Ongoing Angst of Successful Writers, with six authors, all of whom still carry the fear of “What if I’m not good enough?”

Even though they have “made it,” based on their own standards, there is still a fear. Go and read the conclusions then work your way through the different authors. You will cheer and weep and know you’re not alone.

So what chances do I have as a new and emerging writer to “make it?”

The same chance they did.

How will I define if I have “made it?”

I see on social media reports of authors who carved out a successful blogging career and turned it into fiction or non-fiction book deal and have gone on to financially successful careers.

And they make it sound SO EASY! “I wrote a book, it was picked up by an agent and sold to the highest bidder. And I’ve sold 1,000,000 copies and now have a three book advance deal.”

I have had two short stories published in anthologies, had a vignette published, and have three stories offered for free on Ether Books app (see the Publications page). Nothing to rock the world, but it’s a start.

“Making it” implies financial success, selling stories, novellas and/or novels, whatever literary form you care to think of.

“Making it” implies critical acclaim and public praise.

And, yes, I want these things. I want to be financially successful and have critical acclaim and public praise.

But…

  • I have never made a sale for a short story.
  • I have not won a respected or prestigious competition (or even a disreputable one).
  • I have not finished writing my first novel.

Not a great start. Yet there are more fears lurking.

  • What if I never finish a novel? And assuming I finish a novel, what if I never sell it?
  • Will I write a second novel? A third? A fourth? What if they don’t sell either?
  • What if I NEVER sell a short story, a novella or a novel?
  • What if I never *fill in the blank here*?

Trying to answer the question of “Have I ‘made it’?” is akin to trying to catch a fart in a cyclone.

I want to make it. I want to sell short stories, and just like known authors, experience rejection.

I am committed to improving my craft, developing my art and telling good stories. I will have tried my hardest. I will have written to the best of my aptitude and skill; learned what I can from whomever and wherever to ensure my work is the best it can be to have every chance to be considered.

I’m going to make damn sure I give it everything I am to have a crack at “making it.”

But if I don’t make it, I don’t mind.

Because…

Despite everything looking like a failure, I will continue to write.

This is how I know I will have ‘made it.’ I will have continued despite the “failure.”

When I’ve “made it” financially or critically, I’ll let you know.

If I don’t make it, I’m ok with that.

I won’t be ok if I have failed to continue writing.

11 Facetious (And 1 Serious) Answers to the Question, “Where Do You Get Your Ideas?”

11 Facetious (And 1 Serious) Answers to the Question, “Where Do You Get Your Ideas?”

Invariably a writer gets asked a question, in fact THE question:

“Where do you get your ideas?”

And as a teacher when I set my students a creative writing task there comes a glassy eyed look of vacancy that would give a vacuum cleaner a run for its money when it comes to sucking the will to live.

Let me count the ways. It’s too easy to be facetious and sarcastic but let’s travel down that well-worn trope for a while.

  1. I poo rainbows. When I wipe my bum, I have 2 or 3 ideas ready to go.
  2. The washing up. The subconscious works overtime when you get time to yourself, and you can pause for a bit.
  3. Your life story. Yes, I’ve been recording our conversations.
  4. Facebook. An open account is a gold mine for personality traits, character tics and questionable hygiene habits.
  5. I steal your dreams while you sleep.
  6. I have a unicorn scribe who records my every thought.
  7. I read the ideas left in the scraps of food left on trays in the food court. It’s like an augur divining the entrails of animals. Only greasier.
  8. I get my ideas from failed Academy Award nominees press conferences when they say, “It was an honour to be nominated.”
  9. I get fed my ideas from my best friend via carrier pigeon.
  10. I gather ideas from the broken clusters of dandelions as they float on the evening breeze.
  11. I collate Ideas from the comments section on YouTube, where the stupid lives.

But what is the person really asking? What is the heart and purpose of their question?

What they are asking is, “If I replace the empty toilet roll does that mean I get to eat the last doughnut?”

Sorry, wrong question.

The question being asked is, “Why can’t I be as creative as you?”

There is a core concept at the heart of the question: a desire to be creative yet they imagine themselves without the skills or knowledge to do so.

They are saying, “I really want to be creative but I don’t know how.”

The answer is simple. It’s one word: IMAGINATION.

It’s about exercising the ol’ grey matter and THINK.

For the non-creative person, the concept of using the imagination to develop ideas is like giving them a piece of Ikea furniture and a Phillips head screwdriver to assemble it.  You’re better off asking them to stand naked in the middle of the road during a thunderstorm with a colander on their head for protection.

For a writer and the creative person, the imagination is the most important tool to use. But you need to know how to use it, to train it, to develop it and expand it.

Train your imagination. If you’re unsure how to do it, watch children play. They imagine all the time in their play, their drawings, their stories. Learn from them. Mimic their creativity, ingenuity and imagination.

On a side note, imagination gets minimised and sidelined during the school years in favour of logic and reason, when it should be expanded, developed and encouraged.

So how should we answer the question: “Where do you get your ideas?”

Remember, this is for posterity, so please, be honest. Tell me the truth.

It starts with my imagination, but that’s a wibbly-wobbley spongey-marshmallow answer.

My perspective sparks my imagination, the way I have of seeing the world. It shapes how I see people, events, incidents, and helps me understand that the individual stories of people are important.

In truth, I look for ideas. I search for them. I track them like ants at a picnic.

I find ideas in:

  • books and poetry
  • pictures and Images
  • newspaper articles
  • conversations with friends
  • blog posts
  • tweets
  • other writers’ opinions
  • and from some of the facetious ideas I gave above

I get ideas because I actively pursue them.

I use my imagination to create scenarios and situations.

I ask “What if…?”

I ask “Why?” and “Why not?”

As Albert Einstein said, “Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.”

That’s where I get my ideas.

And now I’m off to read the comments on youtube.