How to write like Lloyd Jones

Today, I was lucky to be one of twenty people who attended New Zealand author Lloyd Jones's masterclass 'What to write about: The authenticity of the writer's voice'.
I have struggled to find my voice in the historic fiction project I am working on, so I felt very fortunate to be chosen to take part. And even luckier when Lloyd and the class critiqued the first page of my work-in-progress. More than anything, it has given me the momentum to keep writing and a new plan of attack -- just what I needed.
Here are some tips the Mister Pip author passed on to the emerging and the established writers in the class today.

• 'Masterclass?' Lloyd says writers are 'forever the apprentice' who have to re-learn how to write with each new project.
• He says writing is like sitting on a bus; the person sitting next to us is either boring or engaging. What is it that determines that? Light and shade? A unique story? What makes it authentic?
• A writer needs to establish a 'contract' with the reader. When a 'break of faith' occurs -- either through the language, tone of voice, or getting some detail wrong -- then it tells us that something is not quite right.
• Find your own voice through writing what has never been written before. Give yourself permission to be nonsensical. Everything else will fall into place; don't worry.
• Don't necessarily write about what you know (as opposed to what other writers may say).
• Don't over explain yourself. It is the reader who 'completes' the literature.
• Do some 'limbering up exercises' before you start -- write about a word or a group of words by closing your eyes and listening to your voice.



(Julianne Schulz, Kerri Harris and Lloyd Jones)

• Be playful and see what happens -- you may be surprised.

Isn't technology wonderful? Eighty other people joined a webinar to participate in today's class. Writers from Flinders Island in the Bass Strait to Albany in WA to Rockhampton in Queensland, provided some incisive comments and examples of writing from our free-writing exercise. The Griffith Review editor Julianne Schulz should be given a special mention here -- she did a great job hosting the two-hour class, adding valuable comments, as well as responding (by typing on an unfamiliar laptop) to webinar participants.
Thanks to The Griffith Review, Arts Queensland, the Brisbane Writers Festival, the Queensland Writers Centre and Flying Arts for making the class possible.
I'm off to see if I can take that fourth paragraph and turn it into the start of an engaging, unique piece of literature.

It's never too late ...

I read a newspaper article a few years ago that said most of us would probably change our careers five times in our lifetime. Five times? I thought: Wow, that’s a lot! At the time, I was getting towards the end of my Bachelor of Arts degree in Journalism. It was a big effort on my part. First, I went to night school and did four senior certificate subjects to gain adult matriculation and university entry. Then, I studied for two years part-time while working full-time as a legal secretary. It was pre-children, so I could be selfish with my time. I gave it my all.

I enjoyed working as a journalist. I loved communicating to a wide audience, finding things out first-hand, writing to be understood, and reaching out to people while I worked in both commercial radio and at the ABC. To be completely honest, my ambition started to wane when children came along. I considered my three children to be my finest achievement – and I probably always will. I tried my hand at teaching at an international school when we moved to Jakarta and I helped edit and translate a coffee table book after the devastating December 2004 tsunami. When we returned to Brisbane in 2008, I dragged my feet. At the back of my mind, I knew I didn’t want to return to a newsroom.

I volunteered for the Brisbane Writers Festival, I did public relations for my children’s primary school, I organised a book club, I did a couple of writing and editing courses, I kept writing short stories and entering competitions, I joined a vigorous writers’ group, and I applied for jobs where I thought I could use my journalism skills in a wider capacity.

Still, something was missing.

Earlier this year, as I walked through the University of Queensland, suddenly the penny dropped. I had to go back. I had heard about the Writing, Editing and Publishing program and made some enquiries. Course convenor Ros Petelin told me I would be surrounded by people who care about writing; she said graduates found themselves in ‘gold collar’ positions. Coming from the 'blue collar' profession of journalism, I was hooked.

Grammar cartoon by Alejandro Yegros.

I care very deeply about journalism, and about grammatical and editing sins that we see not only in the media but all around us. So, I’m up-skilling, adding to my journalism knowledge, rounding out my writing skills, and learning how to make my mark in the world of publishing with a Graduate Diploma in Writing, Editing and Publishing. All going well, I will continue to Masters. So, with the children now relatively independent teenagers, it’s ‘me’ time. I will still write short stories – in fact, I’m mentally unable to stop. But, I’m going to be an editor. A really good one. And I couldn’t be more excited!

Immersing myself in Coal Creek

Something happens to you when you read Alex Miller. In The Novels of Alex Miller, An Introduction, Professor Brenda Walker reckons the British-born author could be 'Australia's greatest living writer'. I think what makes Alex Miller so good is his accessibility as well as his intelligence, and his grace when dealing with people of all races, particularly indigenous Australians, and the country itself. When you read Alex Miller, your soul is refreshed. His latest novel, Coal Creek is no exception.
Alex Miller migrated to Australia himself as a lad of 16 and worked in Queensland as a ringer before putting himself through night school to get into university where he studied English and History. He did it the hard way, and it's perhaps those formative years as a ringer which has shaped who he is - certainly, his early days have shaped his writing.
Protagonist Bobby Blue tells his story in a colloquial style (with the poor grammar of his station) of how he falls in love with 13-year-old, Irie Collins. Irie is the daughter of Bobby's boss - Mount Hay's police officer. Constable Daniel Collins is full of book learning, but not much else, unlike Bobby - who knows the secrets of the district and what he doesn't know, he's sensibly wary of. Trouble brews when Constable Collins clashes with Bobby's life-long friend, Ben Tobin, and the tragedy that unfolds is heart-wrenching and unstoppable. Set in the 1950s in the Central Queensland interior, Coal Creek shows what can happen when misunderstandings occur, prejudices are held and the wrong questions asked.

The winner of the 2014 Victorian Premier's Literary Awards (yes, they still have them), Coal Creek is full of wisdom and is beautifully written. Like when Bobby Blue and his horse come across a playground used by the Old Murri People ...

"The scrub came to a sudden end and that wide open space was shining white in the light of the stars in front of us. The starlight was always brighter over that playground. I do not know why that was. But it was something that always impressed me whenever I seen it. It made you stand and puzzle at it, and it made you know there was a lot of things in the life of the scrub you did not understand or have no knowledge of, even though you and your dad before you had spent your entire lives in it."

I raced through Coal Creek  in a couple of days, knowing all the while I would regret not spinning it out, like something delicious but at the same time incredibly healthy and good for me. That's not to say I didn't savour it. I just regret the experience was over way too quickly, because I may have to wait another year or so before Alex Miller's next novel. Although, he does have an impressive back catalogue I could easily dive into.

My personal 'Book of the Year'

It wouldn’t be an end-of-year blog without selecting my ‘book of the year’.

Books do different things for us at different moments in our lives. Sometimes, they are a life buoy to cling to – like The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion which I read concurrently with my daughter while she was in hospital. It was the perfect book at the time – full of humour, irony and hope – the perfect antidote to grief and worry. I also had the pleasure of attending one of Graeme’s workshops at the Brisbane Writers Festival in September. With more than 15 takeaway tips, it was well worth the time and money.

Then there was Educating Alice by Alice Greenup. This one took me back to my own rural roots, and while we followed divergent paths and while Alice’s story of city girl turned award-winning beef producer amazed me, it made me realise that I had, in fact, chosen the right path for me. I met and interviewed Alice at an event I emceed this year, and she truly is a generous and warm-hearted dynamo.

I picked up Lightning by Felicity Volk at the airport this year and found it to be a well-written, thoughtful and multi-layered book for this debut novelist – one which I would highly recommend to book clubs.

I thoroughly enjoyed Peter Carey’s Chemistry of Tears. I found this book to be more accessible than some of his others and I had the pleasure of meeting my idol at the Byron Bay Writer’s Festival.

I re-read Life of Pi by Yann Martel for book club earlier this year (as a movie tie-in) and found our two-hour book club meeting could hardly do this superb novel justice with its hidden meanings, symbols and religious allusions – a book definitely worth revisiting.

Sweet Tooth by Ian McEwan failed to excite me the way Atonement, Saturday and On Chesil Beach did. I found the Cold War intrigue and unlikely love story to be a bit dry, and I suspect McEwan will always be known as the guy who wrote Atonement which, when you think about it, isn’t so bad. By the way, everyone must read Atonement.

Khaled Hosseini’s latest And the Mountains Echoed showed The Kite Runner author is no one-hit wonder. And the Mountains Echoed was a wonderful read with an interesting style. I found it to be almost a collection of stories, some of which connected while others did not, but beware of the ending – it was incredibly sad, beautiful and wistful.

At my daughter’s recommendation, I set Chris Cleave’s 2005 debut novel Incendiary for book club in August.  He wrote The Other Hand (released in the US and Canada as Little Bee). Incendiary was written in a female first-person epistolary style and Cleave never strayed once from the voice of … (we never learn her name) and her class. Well done, experimental, but incredibly effective for Cleave’s first effort.

Questions of Travel by Michele de Kretser  - I’m sorry I couldn’t enjoy her Miles Franklin award-winning accomplishment. Too many metaphors really do spoil the broth and why write in a too-clever way when simplicity is enough? A question of personal taste, I think.

Ruth Ozeki, Canadian Zen Buddhist priest, was another author I met in my role as an artist liaison volunteer at the Writers Festival this year. Short-listed for the Man Booker Prize,  A Tale for the Time Being will have wide appeal, that is, to the mature reader and youngsters alike – literature lovers, science geeks (Shrodinger’s cat is explained in full), and for those who just want an easy read.

As I always find, there are just too many books and so little time. Coal Creek by one of my favourite Australian authors Alex Miller and the master Tim Winton’s Eyrie I am yet to read. I have just managed to sneak in The Narrow Road to the Deep North by Richard Flanagan and it truly is a masterpiece by an author who is as witty as he is deeply serious – as a person and as an author, this Tasmanian epitomises what Australia is today, that is ebullient, intelligent (yes, I believe we are), confident and conscientious about environmental issues he cares deeply about.

But, this year’s standout for me would have to be Burial Rites by Hannah Kent. It is about Agnes Magnusdottir, the last woman executed in Iceland. Okay, so we know what happens, but the way young (27-year-old) Kent brings Agnes to life is the real triumph here. I love the familiarity of books in how they highlight the human condition in a way that we all feel but have seldom been able to articulate. But I also love books that take me to another place and time – that teach me something, that subtly challenge me to look at the world in a different way – books that change and shape who I am. Burial Rites and The Narrow Road to the Deep North did that for me this year. So I guess, in the end, it’s a tie.

Merry Christmas, everyone. Above all, I wish you the peace and quiet to lose yourself in a good book this festive season. 

Don't you love the smell of petrichor in the morning?

The problem with telling the world you've been shortlisted for a literary award, is telling the world that you didn't win. But that's the chance you take in this era of self-promotion. Actually, I'd rather call it 'news sharing'.
Last night, I returned home from a trip to Melbourne where I took the chance to do some more historical fiction research at the State Library of Victoria and the Immigration Museum. But the driving reason for heading down to chilly Victoria was to attend the Elyne Mitchell Writing Awards in the Upper Murray town of Corryong.

 

 

I was thrilled to be shortlisted out of a record number of entries but, alas, I did not win. That honour deservedly went to Isabella McNickle from Bungendore, near Canberra, with 'The Funeral' - a very well-written and moving story of 11-year-old Josie who attends her beloved uncle's funeral in 1958. Isabella expertly captured the feeling of the times as well as the thoughts of the young protagonist in a truly polished piece of writing.
I met some engaging locals, the late Elyne Mitchell's daughter Honor Auchinleck and son-in-law Mark, listened to an hilarious talk by author Sandy McKinnon, chatted with lovely agent Tim Curnow, and got to know some fellow writers, namely Alana Brekelmans from Brisbane (of all places) and architect and memoirist Charlotte Austin from Mansfield, Victoria.
As serendipity would have it, Sandy asked a young lady in the audience what her favourite word was. She said 'petrichor' - the scent of rain on dry earth. I admit I hadn't watched enough Doctor Who to know that one. But it gets really spooky when I also discover it's my new friend Alana's favourite word and blog name.
Now each time I catch a whiff of petrichor, I will look back on my time in Corryong with extra fond memories.

Fingers crossed ...

I'm about to fly down to Melbourne for a much-anticipated long weekend. I have baked a lasagne for the family, filled the car with petrol, stocked up the fridge and pantry and even dusted the living room (!).
The main reason for my jaunt is to attend the Elyne Mitchell Writing Award in country Corryong on Saturday night where my short story, 'Chubby Struthers' Transformation' has been shortlisted from a cast of about 150 entries from across Australia and New Zealand. Even if I don't 'win', I will get to rub shoulders with other writers and meet literary agent Tim Curnow, HarperCollins associate publisher Katie Stackhouse, author Sandy MacKinnon, and prolific writer and former winner Kate Rotherham. Kate's recent winning entry, 'Companion Gardening' is a treat to read and available in Award Winning Australian Writing 2012. (Excuse my blatant self-promotion, but you will also see my Henry Lawson Award winning story 'Why Don't Elephants Smoke?' contained therein.)
The Elyne Mitchell Award is named in honour of the author of the Silver Brumby series, pictured here.

I'm also heading into the State Library of Victoria where the good people in the manuscripts room have pulled some diaries and sketchbooks of early Melbourne which will help immensely with my historic fiction project.
So, if nothing else, I will come home on Sunday night having met some terrific people, examined some old historic treasures and gazed upon some inspiring rural countryside - which will no doubt plant the seeds for further short stories.

A Turning Point for Australian Film - excuse the pun.

If you have a spare three hours and $25, I would urge you to get along to see Tim Winton's 'The Turning' on the big screen before it's too late.

Seventeen Australian directors give each of Winton's short stories from the book of the same name, their own treatment, which could be confusing if not for the glossy explanatory program included in the ticket price which helps viewers keep track of the main characters - each played by different actors, and a timeline of the Lang Family as well as brothers Frank and Max. I'm not convinced this is entirely necessary, although I'm sure it helps that I had read the collection beforehand. My advice would be to enjoy each short story for what it is. Personally, I think trying to link the stories to each other could do your head in. And there is an intermission to regroup but this comes, I think, one or two 'stories' too late. Interestingly, there is an encouraging representation of indigenous actors (bring it on, I say!). But the change in skin tone is seamless which shows just how far we've come, not only in Australian cinema, but as a viewing audience. Bravo to that.

As a writer and reader of short stories, I eagerly awaited this 'unique cinema experience' with recurring themes of coming of age and understanding people's actions and motivations for doing the things they do. I think the film worked well, with expert direction, exquisite cinematography, and brilliant acting - you have never seen Rose Byrne look like this (the teeth!). I hope the success of 'The Turning' encourages the Australian film world to take a further look at short story collections. I'm sure they know how to contact Cate Kennedy and Peter Goldsworthy - who have given us terrific short story collections to ponder.
Tim Winton's 'The Turning' is still showing at boutique cinemas around the country and in my home town of Brisbane - namely at the Centro in James Street, New Farm with the Regal Twin in Graceville also picking it up recently.