Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Week 1 writing wrap...

Lessons learnt during my first week of book writing:
  1. Glue your bum to the chair and just start writing. Cleaning light switches does not get words on the page. Neither does polishing the leaves on my ficus. Although the house looks fabulous.
  2. Research days and writing days work more effectively when separated.
  3. Fast flow writing is a great technique for getting the pen (fingers) moving and it’s mindboggling the memories and images that spring forth from your subconscious self.
  4. In high school it was really neat handwriting but now it looks more like hieroglyphics…hmmm.
  5. Writing is really, really hard! One of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It’s also liberating, exhausting, frustrating and intoxicating! 
Today’s musical inspiration – an all time favourite song by The Helio Sequence – Shed Your Love. Best enjoyed on the couch with a deep glass of Shiraz, a comfy pen and a fat notebook with textured pages to let loose the creative spirit… Do it do it!




Monday, October 26, 2009

A word chiefly used for the weather...

Last night my friend Sam asked me to blog about the rain. 
Given the darkening thundery sky and violent flurries of stinging raindrops marching like frenzied tin soldiers out of kilter across the roof, she may have imagined poetry.
But it made me think about weather reports. And more specifically the question: Do you ever hear the word ‘chiefly’ used anywhere except in weather reports?
A trough sweeping across the east is generating areas of rain and storms over NSW and southern QLD. A high is pushing cool southerlies and a few showers into the southeast, chiefly along the coast. A trough over the west is generating rain patches and a few storms.” News.com.au
That happy gas bloke who reads the weather on Channel 10 often says it too.
It’s gonna be drips and drops across rooftops chiefly up and down the beaches tonight folks, so if you’re heading out on the town to flick a hoof don’t forget your brolly!”
The Bureau of Meteorology website has a page called Weather Words where it carefully and specifically outlines conditions that require particular word usage.
For example: ‘Drizzle: Fairly uniform precipitation composed exclusively of very small water droplets (less than 0.5 mm in diameter) very close to one another.’
In the absence of direction on when to use the term ‘chiefly’, I’ve concluded that this word is a throwback from the days when the Queen’s English was the common vernacular in the Commonwealth. Before newsreaders started joking about what they had for breakfast on the 6am national broadcast and kids created an entire new electronic language where digits and consonants jockey for position and vowels have been excluded all together.
I quite like it. ‘Chiefly’. It has a ring of authority and confidence despite, or perhaps in spite of, the BOM’s inability to predict the weather with regular accuracy.
Conviction is key when imparting important information. Whether the weather is written or spoken it’s all, chiefly, in the delivery.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Hungry beasts...

There’s a moment in the movie Julie and Julia (a story of two lives intertwined by cooking and blogging) when, in a fit of frustration Julie’s husband accuses her of being a narcissist who thinks she’s the centre of the universe because she’s so committed to her blog.
What do you think all your followers are going to do?” he fires. “Commit mass suicide if you don’t blog for one day?
Apart from making me really, really hungry, the film pinpointed one of the reasons for this blog’s being.
When you set out to take on a huge, personal challenge, tapping into the energy and the confidence that the people around you have in you and your aspirations, is like plugging in to a metaphysical generator that propels you forward.
It helps you to believe that you can actually achieve what you set out to do, be it murdering lobsters in a raging pot of boiling water, de-boning duck and stitching its flaccid belly together with a skewer, or writing a book.
Each time a comment appears on your blog it gives you a lift, a small surge that reasserts your conviction when self-doubt rears its bothersome head.
So while yes, of course this blog is all about me, essentially it’s just as much about you.


Friday, October 23, 2009

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Which way does the ballerina spin?





I tried something different this morning. It started out as a simple Fast Flow writing exercise but I ended up feeling like I was refereeing a biffo between my right and left brain inside my cerebral boxing ring.
Fast Flow writing is a great way to get the pen moving on the page. Start with a few deep breathing exercises to clear your mental slate, then start writing. Hand over to your subconscious mind and let words fall out of the pen.
It requires a certain discipline to be so free. That is, to let the words flow with complete disregard for structure, grammar or punctuation for 20 minutes straight, no stopping. At least it does for a self-confessed Sheriff of the Grammar Constabulary.
Grammar, spelling, vocabulary, punctuation and structure are all left brain tasks, and the more you worry about them the more your right brain, your creativity springboard, will be stifled.
It doesn’t matter what you write, or if it’s relevant to anything, its value lies in opening up the mind to access information that is deep within you. A means through which you can be open and spontaneous, liberating and authentic, and out of which you may just find a few gems to carry on with.
It often takes me a couple of false starts (rude interruptions from my left brain) to get going, but once the pen is in free flow it seems like the most natural state of being. I wondered about this right brain left brain conflict so I did a little research and stumbled upon a visual test.
At first the ballerina spun clockwise, then faltered and turned anti-clockwise. Then clockwise. Then anti-clockwise. Then I got dizzy and had to stop. Giving both my right and left brain their time in the sun seems to be my challenge.
Give it a go. Which way does the ballerina spin for you?


Image above by Petty, chrysalis.com.au

Monday, October 19, 2009

On first lines...


In Perth last week I was telling my good friend Rowan that I’m not really sure how one should start to write a book. 
A patient smile, then: “It’s easy isn’t it? Don’t you just type ‘Once upon a time’ and go from there?”
He’s got a point. Just start writing.
It made me think about famous first lines and the enigma of how to hook your reader with a single sentence. 
The old cliché is not reserved for Golden Books alone. James Joyce began his ‘practice run’ to Ulysses with A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and this pearler: “Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo…” No, apparently it didn’t suck me in either, judging by the dog eared bookmark that’s been stuck on page 83 since time immemorable.
For its slightly shady mystique (say it out loud with an accent) I love: “Call me Ishmael”, from Herman Melville’s Moby Dick.
For its irrepressible visual image: “Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump bump bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin.” AA Milne, Winnie the Pooh.
Because it makes me giggle: “James Bond, with two double bourbons inside him, sat in the final departure lounge of Miami Airport and thought about life and death”. Ian Fleming, Goldfinger.
And Nabokov has to get a mention for: “Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.”  Brilliant. But it’s a fine line between provocative and just plain creepy if you’ve seen the movie and can hear the salacious strains of Jeremy Irons’ Humbert Humbert breathing that opener. Err.
Waiting to dream up the ultimate line smacks of pure procrastination. It’s got to be a cracker though.
So while I get started on the plot I’ll put it out there – do you have any opening gems to share?!

Sunday, October 18, 2009

On dreaming...


dream /drim/ n: A vision voluntarily indulged in while awake; Daydream; Reverie; A wild or vain fancy; A hope that gives one inspiration; An aim. - Macquarie Australian Encyclopedic Dictionary.


Not sure which one of those best describes my dream - maybe all of them! - but I do know that when your dream starts pounding ever louder in your head it's time to start listening.
Sir Laurens Van Der Post was onto something when he wrote of the Kalahari Bushmen: "Only a fool ignores the tapping within". (A Conversation with the African Bush; Wilderness and the Human Spirit, 1996.)
Living a nomadic and stark existence on the world's oldest continent, the Bushmen were way ahead of their time. Van Der Post recalled an incident just after WWII when he was on an exploratory mission in the Kalahari Desert for the British Government. 
One day his Bushman tracker broke apart from the group and parked off under a thorn tree. Impatient to continue, the intrepid adventurer asked his interpreter to get the man moving.
"No," he was told. "I can't do it. He is doing very important work. He is listening to his tapping." He went on to liken the Bushman's tapping to a white man's telegram.
"Don't you know we Bushmen have telegrams inside ourselves. This tapping tells us of things that are still to come, things so far away that we cannot see them yet, and that man there is listening in to his tapping to see where he must take us today. Only a fool will not listen in to his tapping when he hears this tapping starting up inside himself."
Here hear.
I'm hoping the tapping of my dream will match the tapping of the keyboard over the next 12 weeks as I try to give voice to my dream of writing a book. This blog is more of a self-motivator than anything, to track the process of writing. And maybe, just maybe, it might even be a story in itself... Wish me luck! R




9.20am today: my writing room, engine room for my dream. 
9.21am: watching from the balcony as 16 yr old Jessica Watson sails away on her dream voyage around the globe.