Quote of the week
Okay, so I’ve never had a quote of the week before. But I like the following so much, it might be worth starting the tradition.
Stephen Romei, in the Weekend Australian Review, included this quote from Australian author Debra Adelaide (writing in Newswrite, the NSW Writers Centre journal) in the Feb 18-19 edition:
‘Writing is hard work: frustration, dead ends and above all failure, failure and more failure, until you arrive at the final form and none of this changes with genre.’
Romei then points out Ms Adelaide goes on to say that when writing is good it ‘makes the result seem fluid and effortless, as if the story is warm honey the author has poured out in a single act, but which also makes us feel the work is written for us alone’.
I like this for a couple of reasons: first, it acknowledges how much effort goes into making writing look effortless; and second, it acknowledges that the same frustrations exist for the genre writer as the literary one.
Some thoughts on favourite storytellers
Most writers are also avid readers. A love for telling stories tends to grow from reading them – just check out any author bio and you’ll see a familiar recurring theme of a childhood spent lost in books.
I read for a lot reasons: to experience the beauty of words and powerful storytelling, to discover new places and ways of thinking, to be entertained, and – of course – to escape reality for a while.
Friends have asked me if reading other authors influences my writing. I guess on some level it must, but I like to think of it more as inspiring my writing. There are books and writers who have changed the way I think about the craft of writing, based on the way they’ve told a story.
There are a handful of books that continue to inspire me to not just want to be a good storyteller, but also a better writer. Of course, that’s a journey I’ll be on until the day I write my last word…
Anyway, I thought I would list some of the key books that have inspired me, and (briefly) why. I should point out, that my work resembles none of them… (Markus Zusak once talked about how he loved Ernest Hemingway, but Hemingway would probably hate his books; I fear Markus – one of my favourite writers – may feel the same about mine…)
Truth by Peter Temple
Temple always blows my mind with his ability to fuse literary and genre writing. And not just for his brilliant plotting and characterisation: he writes dialogue that sounds so real, it redefines ‘realism’. His prose is sparse, with a unique pace and rhythm. And Temple forces the reader to work, which makes the journey that much more rewarding when all the pieces fall into place.
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
Speaking of sparse prose… This is a tense, moving and heartbreaking story, and it’s made all the more powerful by the fact there are almost no adjectives in the entire story. It underscores the fact that simple prose is often the most effective (especially in a story so remarkably profound).
Life of Pi by Yann Martel
This book continues to challenge and frustrate people because of its ambiguous ending. I loved that ending. And the fact that so much more is going on with this book than what we read on the page. I had the chance to hear Martel speak at the Brisbane Writer’s Festival a few years ago, and he gave some fascinating insights into this book. I wrote about his session on Great Reads. It’s worth reading if you’re still scratching your head about the flesh-eating island…
The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien
Like millions of readers, this was the story that opened up the world of fantasy to me as a teenager. The world building was so complete and unique, I was utterly lost in the adventure. And then I picked up The Lord of the Rings…
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
Beautifully written, and narrated by Death. Need I say more?
The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater
A master class in creating a sense of place, tension and mood. And just beautiful writing.
(All of the above feature on my Favourite reads page and you can find my reviews for most of them there.)
A last note: these are some of my all-time favourite books, but it’s by no means an exhaustive list. There are many others I love as a reader. These are just a few that also deeply impress me as a writer.
Adventures in writing and editing
If you’ve read my last few posts, you may get the impression that all I do is read a lot… So I thought I should give a quick update of where I’m at with my own writing/editing.
Shadows: I’m in the midst of an intensive line editing process with my wonderful and patient editor at Text. This process is all about tightening and polishing the prose and making this book as good as it can possibly be. It’s exciting – and challenging. (One day, I may post about my existential crisis over a poinciana tree…).
Book 2: I’m going back over the 70,000 words I’ve already got down, doing a bit of pre-emptive tightening (as per above) and will then keep pounding out the first draft. I’m hoping to have something to my small (but enthusiastic) reading group in a few months.
It’s probably not ideal to be jumping between the two books, but it’s actually helpful for characterisation (and plot tracking).
Slightly off-topic, I had a great moment yesterday on Book 2… I was reading back over a chapter I hadn’t looked at for a few months. In it, one of my main characters disappears for a few hours (necessary for a plot development). But the whole time I’m reading it, I’m thinking ‘Crap, I don’t remember what he was supposed to be doing in that time he was gone…’ And I didn’t have any notes on it. But then I get to the next chapter, and discover the answer… and it works beautifully! Nice to know I knew what I was doing when I originally wrote that a few months ago…
Anyway, we’re still on track for Shadows to launch in June, and I’ll post regular updates as things progress.
Inspiration's a funny thing…
It’s a question authors get asked a lot: where does your inspiration come from?
Some writers have profound or witty answers, but most (including me) struggle to articulate how ideas arise. More to the point, we actually don’t want to analyse it too closely, for fear we’ll somehow corrupt it.
I’m not talking about the moment or experience that prompts a writer to tackle a particular issue or topic. I’m talking about the day-to-day inspiration that becomes the heart and soul of a good story.
Anne Lamott, in her fantastic book on writing, Bird by bird, talks about creativity coming from the unconscious, and the need to get out of the way and let it do its thing:
‘…everything you need is in your head and memories, in all that your senses provide, in all that you’ve seen and thought and absorbed. There in your unconscious, where the real creation goes on, is the little kid or the Dr Seuss creature in the cellar, arranging and stitching things together. When this being is ready to hand things up to you, to give you a paragraph or a sudden move one character makes that will change the whole course of your novel, you will be entrusted with it. So, in the meantime, while the tailor is working, you might as well go get some fresh air… Otherwise you’ll want to sit there and try to contribute, and this will only get in the way. Your unconscious can’t work while you’re breathing down its neck.’
It definitely resonates with me, this idea of trusting the unconscious.
I still have to plot my story, work on characterisation, polish my prose and know what I’m doing and where I’m going. But those ‘aha!’ moments that solve a problem or take my characters in a new direction, tend to arrive without warning – and usually not when I’m actually writing.
This ‘inspiration’ crops up when I’m driving (yes, listening to the Foo Fighters), cooking, cleaning or about to fall asleep. I write the idea/s down and then can’t relax until I’m back at the computer, working them into my writing or editing. Sometimes those ideas do come when I keep plugging away at a line or a paragraph, but mostly they arrive when I’m not looking.
And see, now that I’m writing about this tricky thing called inspiration (aka the muse, the unconscious, the temperamental inner child), I’m already worrying that I might have scared it away…
Brisbane Writers Festival – Maggie Stiefvater
OK, so the highlight of this year’s Brisbane Writer’s Festival for me was today’s master class with Maggie Stiefvater (anyone who’s ready my Other Worlds blog knows how much I enjoy and appreciate her work).
Not just because it’s always exciting to meet a favourite writer (and find out she’s extremely likable in person), but because Maggie had some insightful and interesting things to say about writing and – in particular – how to get to the end of the story.
I’ve got a good idea of where I’m going with The Rephaim, but I’ll always jump at the chance to learn from experienced authors. I was keen to hear what Maggie had to say about plotting and delivering a story – especially over multiple books.
The two-hour session was choc-ful of great tips and advice. There were a lot I could relate to, and a few things I needed to be reminded about (e.g the importance of every setting having meaning in the story). But what resonated most with me was Maggie’s comment on knowing the “whatness” of a story. What is the core of the story? What am I trying to achieve? (And does every scene get me closer to achieving that? It’s a no-brainer when you think about it, but it’s easy to lose sight of that sometimes when bogged down in character and plot development.
For me, Maggie delivered the master class like a seasoned presenter – lots of energy, interesting, relevant content, plenty of humour, and some lovely insights into her own process and experiences as a writer. I’d go as far as to say it’s my favourite BWF session in the six years’ I’ve been going to the festival.
So, yes, I may have a book deal, but I’m still a geek fan at heart. 🙂
