I've just finished reading The Devil You Know, a new YA book by Australian writer Leonie Norrington, which was just released last month (August 09). I found it incredibly difficult to read. Not because it was poorly written; in fact it was just the opposite. The writing is superb - tight, controlled, fast-paced. But, in creating the world of young Damien and his family, the writing was overwhelmingly real to the point where it was claustrophobic. And this is where the problem is for me.
Damien's life is tough. His mum loves him but she has a few problems, including picking the wrong guys and sometimes drinking too much. They've moved around a lot and are now back up around Darwin, so Damien also has a new school, a nasty teacher and a couple of bullies to contend with. And now, his mum is keen to get back with Damien's father, a violent biker known as 88.
When Norrington describes Damien's feelings as he tries to deal with what is happening in his world, the writing is so true that it's heart-stopping scary. I can say with 100% conviction (drawing on some of my own life experiences) that the descriptions of the fear, isolation and that overwhelming sense of having no way out are frighteningly accurate. I found myself having to put the book down, unable to face reading on because I couldn't bear what was happening and what was about to happen to Damien. And I'm an adult. I'm not a kid having to deal with this stuff, which is, unfortunately, a reality for too many kids.
So I'm not sure who this book is for. It can't be for the kids who have to live like this because it's hard enough having to deal with it in your everyday life without having to confront it in a teen novel. Not even the convenient 'happy ending' (which is the least satisfying part of this book) would make it a good read for kids in this situation because they'd see through the ending, and it's unlikeliness, better than anyone else. So is it for kids from happy, stable family homes to enable them to see into another world? Is it for teachers to help them get a better understanding of what it's like to live with violence? Maybe.
Despite the brilliant writing that is throughout most of this book, for me it ultimately fails because the unrealistic happy ending negates everything else Damien experienced. Particularly when set against the unrelenting hardship portrayed as Damien's everyday life (where even in his fantasies of escape it all goes wrong) it's the writing equivalent of saying 'there, there, everything will be okay after all' and then sending the kid back into the violent home.
There were lots of other things about the story I liked. The characters were all well-drawn and empathetic, the dialogue rang true and the illustrations are fantastic. But an author has to be particularly careful when they write realistic contemporary fiction like this for a young adult audience. Are some kids' lives really like this? Absolutely. Do they deserve to have their stories told? Definitely. Is it a good idea to offer hope at the end of a YA novel? I think so, but it has to be realistic hope. Otherwise it's just another slap in the face.
20 September 2009
4 September 2009
The joy of creation
In the waiting room at a specialists office today I picked up the exhibition booklet from a 2007 exhibition of 'outsider art'by Arts Project Australia (APA). I flicked through the book and started reading the opening notes about the exhibition, which were about the history of 'outsider art' and the very notion of classifying the art of people who have mental or intellectual disabilities as 'outside' the cultural art norm.
Unusually, the specialist was running on time so I didn't get to read all the opening notes or look at all the art in the book. But one thing the critic wrote really struck me: that all the pieces in the exhibition possessed the 'joy of creation'.
Sometimes when I'm reading fiction I feel the writer's hard work as they strive for that 'right' word or phrase, that doesn't end up coming out 'right' at all because the strain of striving shows. And then I read other books (recently, Notes on a Scandal, The Master and Margarita) and the joy within the writing really shines through.
Too often in writing I (and others) get sidetracked by the need to be clever or new or fresh or groundbreaking or whatever. When really that is missing the point. Good writing doesn't come easily, but in some ways, great writing does. Because great writing comes when you let yourself go and just let the words out.
You might be the only person who ever reads those words. But if they really express your personal joy in writing, then that is great writing.
Unusually, the specialist was running on time so I didn't get to read all the opening notes or look at all the art in the book. But one thing the critic wrote really struck me: that all the pieces in the exhibition possessed the 'joy of creation'.
Sometimes when I'm reading fiction I feel the writer's hard work as they strive for that 'right' word or phrase, that doesn't end up coming out 'right' at all because the strain of striving shows. And then I read other books (recently, Notes on a Scandal, The Master and Margarita) and the joy within the writing really shines through.
Too often in writing I (and others) get sidetracked by the need to be clever or new or fresh or groundbreaking or whatever. When really that is missing the point. Good writing doesn't come easily, but in some ways, great writing does. Because great writing comes when you let yourself go and just let the words out.
You might be the only person who ever reads those words. But if they really express your personal joy in writing, then that is great writing.
23 August 2009
Defining myself as a writer
Words are slippery things. Trying to find the right one seems impossible at times and it can seem like everything has been written before. That's when your brain seizes up and nothing flows and the only thing coming off at the end of your fingers are pedestrian sentences that plod along into nowhere.
Words sometimes behave like stubborn toddlers, like when you're dragged as a kid into some interminably boring place and you literally dig your heels in. I do have a method of dealing with these type of toddler words. It's by no means a foolproof method and it probably just shows up the fact that I'm no literary genius but it is a method nonetheless. I rewrite the same phrase, adding in new words, replacing them, twisting them, trying (but usually failing) to trick my brain into surprising me.
Here's a random example:
Mona jumped off as if frogs were biting her arse and motioned to a blue-uniformed attendant, who hurried over to Ava and helped her off the wheeler as if she was a fragile snowflake or a piece of glass on the verge of shattering, perhaps even a glass snowflake.
And another:
Better, better, best, bitter, butter, bust. The ideas flooding into her head now were scaring her shitless because they were coming in like little shooting rockets, pinging into her neurons, spiking her neural pathways with nettled hooks, digging their way in with barbs that could not be pulled out without causing irreversible damage.
Yes, when I sit down to write, this is some of the stuff that travels from my brain down into the ends of my fingertips, onto the keyboard and onto the screen. Does it make any sense? Not really. Will I ever use any of it in a story? Maybe. I do like the bit about Mona jumping as if frogs were biting her arse.
Maybe one day, in a few years' time, I'll look back on this stuff and be able to pinpoint the birth of a perfect sentence. Perhaps in the juxtaposition of pinging with nettle hooks, or with snow, glass and shatter. But more likely I'll stick with the image of the arse biting frogs because I think that's my true voice as a writer.
So the next time I'm asked to define my writing I'll have this response: my writing is defined by the type stories in which people jump as if they've been bitten on the arse by frogs.
Maybe that's what's really missing from Girl in the Shadows...
Words sometimes behave like stubborn toddlers, like when you're dragged as a kid into some interminably boring place and you literally dig your heels in. I do have a method of dealing with these type of toddler words. It's by no means a foolproof method and it probably just shows up the fact that I'm no literary genius but it is a method nonetheless. I rewrite the same phrase, adding in new words, replacing them, twisting them, trying (but usually failing) to trick my brain into surprising me.
Here's a random example:
Mona jumped off as if frogs were biting her arse and motioned to a blue-uniformed attendant, who hurried over to Ava and helped her off the wheeler as if she was a fragile snowflake or a piece of glass on the verge of shattering, perhaps even a glass snowflake.
And another:
Better, better, best, bitter, butter, bust. The ideas flooding into her head now were scaring her shitless because they were coming in like little shooting rockets, pinging into her neurons, spiking her neural pathways with nettled hooks, digging their way in with barbs that could not be pulled out without causing irreversible damage.
Yes, when I sit down to write, this is some of the stuff that travels from my brain down into the ends of my fingertips, onto the keyboard and onto the screen. Does it make any sense? Not really. Will I ever use any of it in a story? Maybe. I do like the bit about Mona jumping as if frogs were biting her arse.
Maybe one day, in a few years' time, I'll look back on this stuff and be able to pinpoint the birth of a perfect sentence. Perhaps in the juxtaposition of pinging with nettle hooks, or with snow, glass and shatter. But more likely I'll stick with the image of the arse biting frogs because I think that's my true voice as a writer.
So the next time I'm asked to define my writing I'll have this response: my writing is defined by the type stories in which people jump as if they've been bitten on the arse by frogs.
Maybe that's what's really missing from Girl in the Shadows...
25 July 2009
Outcomes are so yesterday
The other day I was talking to my daughter about my latest writing project and how I hoped to have it ready to submit soon. In her ultra honest & intuitive way she said, 'Well, don't rush it like you usually do.' The words pinged around in my head firing off all sorts of neuroses. Me? Rush things?? Do I really?
Well, yes. Too often I get caught up in the goal and the outcome instead of the process. No matter how many times I try to remind myself that it's all about the process a part of my brain barges in and says "yes but what's the outcome? what are you achieving??".
But no more! The next time I go on about achieving outcomes and setting goals I'm going to slap myself (& if you're anywhere close by feel free to join in). My next writing project is going to take 10 years. Maybe even 15 years. Quite possibly, I'll never even finish it. And whether I do or not doesn't even matter because it's all about the process.
Sure I'd love to be a successful author, with book sales in the hundreds of thousands and adoring fans poring over my every word. But let's be honest - that's probably never going to happen. And even if it did, would it make me a better writer? No, it wouldn't. Possibly, it would make me a worse writer because then I'd be even more obsessed about achievements and outcomes and book sales and my position on the writers' festival pecking order etc etc etc. I'm not saying every successful author does these things. But I probably would.
So I hereby renounce achievements and outcomes. I'll write every day that I can for as much time as I can. I'll write good sentences and bad sentences and ones in between; make fabulous word choices and ordinary word choices; write brilliant paragraphs and ones that make the reader shrug and say 'meh'. But none of those things will matter because I will be writing.
And in the end, that is all that matters.
Well, yes. Too often I get caught up in the goal and the outcome instead of the process. No matter how many times I try to remind myself that it's all about the process a part of my brain barges in and says "yes but what's the outcome? what are you achieving??".
But no more! The next time I go on about achieving outcomes and setting goals I'm going to slap myself (& if you're anywhere close by feel free to join in). My next writing project is going to take 10 years. Maybe even 15 years. Quite possibly, I'll never even finish it. And whether I do or not doesn't even matter because it's all about the process.
Sure I'd love to be a successful author, with book sales in the hundreds of thousands and adoring fans poring over my every word. But let's be honest - that's probably never going to happen. And even if it did, would it make me a better writer? No, it wouldn't. Possibly, it would make me a worse writer because then I'd be even more obsessed about achievements and outcomes and book sales and my position on the writers' festival pecking order etc etc etc. I'm not saying every successful author does these things. But I probably would.
So I hereby renounce achievements and outcomes. I'll write every day that I can for as much time as I can. I'll write good sentences and bad sentences and ones in between; make fabulous word choices and ordinary word choices; write brilliant paragraphs and ones that make the reader shrug and say 'meh'. But none of those things will matter because I will be writing.
And in the end, that is all that matters.
16 July 2009
Montgomery Burns outshone by the Productivity Commission
We all love to hate Montgomery Burns (okay, all except for Waylon Smithers). Mr Burns is the arch-capitalist. The epitome of greed is good. The man who stole the sun from Springfield to force them into 24-hour use of his nuclear energy.
Well, he aint got nothin' on Australia's Productivity Commission! After completely screwing with the Australian music industry a few years ago (anyone noticed CD prices go down - no? What a surprise!) they now want to destroy Australia's publishing industry.
Montogomery Burns would be proud!
The commission took in hundreds of submissions from authors, editors, independent book shop owners, readers, writing groups such as the Australian Society of Authors, publishers and printers nearly all of whom said that the lifting of parallel import restrictions on books would decimate the Australian publishing industry.
Yet according to commission's deputy chairman, Mike Woods Australian consumers are in effect 'subsidising foreign book producers'. What the???
The commission's main argument is that Australians pay too much for books & that lifting parallel import restrictions will make books cheaper. They are supported in this view by the 'Coalition for Cheaper Books' (also known as Dymocks, KMart, Target & Big W).
Apart from the fact that there is no evidence that books will be any cheaper with the lifting of restrictions (& we can look to our neighbours NZ for proof of this) do you really think we can trust Big W & Target to deliver cheaper books? Just look at how the supermarkets are managing to monopolise groceries & petrol prices.
Hopefully it's not too late. Take action now & send KRudd an email.
Well, he aint got nothin' on Australia's Productivity Commission! After completely screwing with the Australian music industry a few years ago (anyone noticed CD prices go down - no? What a surprise!) they now want to destroy Australia's publishing industry.
Montogomery Burns would be proud!
The commission took in hundreds of submissions from authors, editors, independent book shop owners, readers, writing groups such as the Australian Society of Authors, publishers and printers nearly all of whom said that the lifting of parallel import restrictions on books would decimate the Australian publishing industry.
Yet according to commission's deputy chairman, Mike Woods Australian consumers are in effect 'subsidising foreign book producers'. What the???
The commission's main argument is that Australians pay too much for books & that lifting parallel import restrictions will make books cheaper. They are supported in this view by the 'Coalition for Cheaper Books' (also known as Dymocks, KMart, Target & Big W).
Apart from the fact that there is no evidence that books will be any cheaper with the lifting of restrictions (& we can look to our neighbours NZ for proof of this) do you really think we can trust Big W & Target to deliver cheaper books? Just look at how the supermarkets are managing to monopolise groceries & petrol prices.
Hopefully it's not too late. Take action now & send KRudd an email.
11 July 2009
Goldfish dreams
This morning I dreamt I was walking with some people, carrying a large cocktail type glass filled with water that had a bright orange goldfish swimming in it. The fish was too big for the glass and kept bumping its face up against the side, its mouth gaping. I commented that the fish needed a bigger bowl, then suddenly the fish jumped right out of the glass and onto my shoulder.
I've had weirder dreams, but this one really sticks in my mind, particularly that wide mouthed goldfish. The unconscious is fond of putting puns into dream language, so the obvious ones that spring to mind are 'big fish in a small pond' and 'fish out of water'. But I think perhaps there's more to it than that.
Like many people, I struggle with my dream of earning my living as a fiction writer and my reality of working in a 9-5 job (albeit one that involves writing) to pay the bills. The dream could be about wanting to escape the confines of regular job - though a cocktail glass doesn't exactly scream '9-to-5'.
Perhaps the dream is more about broadening my horizons. I tend to see the trade publishing contract as the ultimate goal - the 'holy grail' that I'm aiming for. But maybe that goal is confining me. What if I broke out of that mould and took a rounder view of what I really want to get out of writing? What if I let that goal go completely?
It's always going to be a struggle to fit in the writing I want to do - fiction writing for kids and young adults - with the writing I'm paid to do. But perhaps I need to appreciate the fact that at least I do get to write for a living and that I do get the opportunity to help other people's stories to be told. And to really see the value in that.
I don't know that I can really let my 'ultimate' goal go. But I'm willing to let it free-float around for a while.
I've had weirder dreams, but this one really sticks in my mind, particularly that wide mouthed goldfish. The unconscious is fond of putting puns into dream language, so the obvious ones that spring to mind are 'big fish in a small pond' and 'fish out of water'. But I think perhaps there's more to it than that.
Like many people, I struggle with my dream of earning my living as a fiction writer and my reality of working in a 9-5 job (albeit one that involves writing) to pay the bills. The dream could be about wanting to escape the confines of regular job - though a cocktail glass doesn't exactly scream '9-to-5'.
Perhaps the dream is more about broadening my horizons. I tend to see the trade publishing contract as the ultimate goal - the 'holy grail' that I'm aiming for. But maybe that goal is confining me. What if I broke out of that mould and took a rounder view of what I really want to get out of writing? What if I let that goal go completely?
It's always going to be a struggle to fit in the writing I want to do - fiction writing for kids and young adults - with the writing I'm paid to do. But perhaps I need to appreciate the fact that at least I do get to write for a living and that I do get the opportunity to help other people's stories to be told. And to really see the value in that.
I don't know that I can really let my 'ultimate' goal go. But I'm willing to let it free-float around for a while.
28 June 2009
Writing for joy
Although I'm very glad I did my Masters, and I'm looking forward to the future challenge of a Phd, nothing beats writing just for the pure joy of it.
In my current project I'm moving away from issue-based realism, letting go of the logic and just letting fly - mostly with luminous greeen vomit! (not mine, the characters...)
I'm finding the words are flowing more easily as I focus on action-based scenes. Even though some of the scenes are quite tense, and the main character is struggling with memory loss and trauma, approaching these themes from a speculative fiction approach is very different. I'm finding that it's giving my writing a freshness and immediacy with an added dose of zing (kinda like a triple shot of espresso).
The speculative fiction genre gives me more freedom to express a character's internal tensions. There's nothing like gross bodily functions to illuminate how you feel inside!
It seems that, when I get down to basics of what I really love to write, that I don't care as much for the constraints of realism as I thought. What perhaps I need to do is to use what I've learnt about the brain, about resilience, about trauma and memory and to mould and stretch that within the context of speculative fiction writing.
Who knows, I might create a whole new sub-genre hybrid in the process!
In my current project I'm moving away from issue-based realism, letting go of the logic and just letting fly - mostly with luminous greeen vomit! (not mine, the characters...)
I'm finding the words are flowing more easily as I focus on action-based scenes. Even though some of the scenes are quite tense, and the main character is struggling with memory loss and trauma, approaching these themes from a speculative fiction approach is very different. I'm finding that it's giving my writing a freshness and immediacy with an added dose of zing (kinda like a triple shot of espresso).
The speculative fiction genre gives me more freedom to express a character's internal tensions. There's nothing like gross bodily functions to illuminate how you feel inside!
It seems that, when I get down to basics of what I really love to write, that I don't care as much for the constraints of realism as I thought. What perhaps I need to do is to use what I've learnt about the brain, about resilience, about trauma and memory and to mould and stretch that within the context of speculative fiction writing.
Who knows, I might create a whole new sub-genre hybrid in the process!
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