Drought and Bushfire

This the Australian bush right now. Even the bracken is dead. The leaves, twigs, dead bracken and fallen branches make a thick layer of fuel - one lightning strike or pyromaniac is all it takes. The lightning we can't do anything about. The pyromaniacs? If you live near bushland, keep an eye on it.
But amongst all the dead stuff, we are still getting bush flowers. I think these are orchids.

Giving It Away Too Soon

I'm writing. And plotting. And agonising. I stopped writing for five days because I had come to a crucial point in the story - do I give the reader and main character this information now? Or hold it back for a bit longer?
I gave it. And came to a grinding halt.
Why? Because a large part of the mystery had been tied into what was in the box. Once I revealed this, that story question was resolved - there was nowhere else to go with it. Do I have any new story questions? Well ... yes ... but none that are big and exciting and tension-filled enough to keep the stakes growing higher and higher as I work towards the conclusion. Can I go back and take that information out? No. It does feel as though it needed to come out at that point.
In the meantime my main character is dithering, thinking through her next decisions (which has taken up about 500 words and will have to be cut later, but for now, it keeps the words and ideas simmering). I'll have to get out my plot diagrams and do some doodling and "what iffing" and some detailed notes. Then the next part will emerge, I hope.
At the moment, I'm reading an old Nancy Kress novel involving genocide via deliberately infected mosquitos. It's not very riveting, but my next visit to the library is a few days away so I'm digging into old boxes of books that I've never got around to reading.
I'm beginning to think my sister's clothing credo (if you haven't worn it for more than a year, throw it out!) might also apply to books. If you haven't read it and it's been sitting there for more than two years (books last better than clothes, usually, unless you drop them in the bath), give it away.
My goal of cleaning out my office (thank you, Randy Ingermanson and Alison Bottke for showing me how to do this so it's not quite as painful) proceeds at a slow pace. I am doing it properly, and using files and archive boxes as well as the rubbish bin. Today I found my old passport, so of course everyone got to have a good laugh at the photo. Mostly, I am astounded at how much I have kept "just in case".
I thought that maybe when it's all done, and my ten-year-old computer that is no longer used has been sent to computer heaven, I might buy a new one. Then Windows Vista came out, and I don't want it. I can just imagine the arguement with the computer guy, trying to persuade him to load on XP instead.
OK, enough procrastinating here on the blog - back to the writing and plotting.

The Info Dump

There are millions of people in the world who read Linda Fairstein's books and love them. Fairstein's main character is Alexandra Cooper, a prosecutor in NY, and she has two sidekicks who are policemen. I hadn't read any for a while so the library provided me with the most recent - "Bad Blood".
It begins with Cooper prosecuting a case against a guy who has killed his wife, probably using a hitman. Said hitman was never caught, so husband is on trial. I couldn't quite see how the evidence could ever prove him guilty, but ... I read on. And stopped around page 90.
Why? Two things (and they're both subjective, which goes to show that you will always have readers who just don't like the way you do things as a writer). One was I didn't find the sidekick's constant putdowns of Cooper funny. He calls her blondie, Coop, the princess and kid, all within about five pages. And likes to make cracks about her looks and makeup. OK, that's her problem, if she wants to put up with it (or the author wants to make her). But the thing that really made me put the book down was a severe case of "let's tell the reader a whole heap of information about New York's water supply system going back 300+ years and let's do it with about 10 pages of dialogue with some guy called Teddy". A couple of summary paragraphs would have done me, thanks, and then get on with the story.
Then I picked up another library choice, a writer I'd never heard of before - that's the joy of the library. The book was "Cold Granite" by Stuart Macbride. It's set in cold, miserable Aberdeen where it never stops raining, and has a main character called Logan McRae who's just back from a year off after being nearly stabbed to death by a killer. Yes, it's a serial killer story, but with lots of twists and turns (not all the deaths of the children are caused by the one person) and stuff-ups by the police. It's Macbride's first novel, and I'll be looking out now for the next one which was due out last year.
And I know lots about Aberdeen and its horrible weather now, and I don't think I noticed one info dump. Just a lot of characters being rained on and frozen!
It's a hard call when you're writing, especially when you are trying to evoke a world or a city or a village most of your readers will be unfamiliar with - how much is an info dump? How else can you provide information about the setting that's important to the story without going overboard?
We're told "show don't tell" so many times, and certainly dialogue is one way of getting across info for the reader, but even then, it can be overdone and obvious. Michael Connelly talks about "the telling detail" and how one truly evocative, short description can do the work of a paragraph. But a short summary can sometimes work too. It's knowing how to use it effectively and concisely. And keep the story moving at the same time.
It's another one of those things you start to see by simply reading with a writer's eye.
By the way, Amazon.com, where's my copy of "Reading Like a Writer"? Surely it's not still on that slow boat from China?

Book of the Week

I read two books on Sunday - and no writing, but I needed a short break after 3000 words on Saturday.
One book was a YA romance (I'm teaching Writing for YA this year) that I skimmed, then I picked up a book I'd bought last week. And read it almost in one sitting.
The blurb starts: "I buy one pig a month. I can't afford any more. I've no idea whether this is enough, but it keeps the Beast alive. He's grown so big. I'm going crazy with worry that someone will discover him." That and the first two pages were enough to convince me to buy it. And I wasn't sorry. It's not just that you don't find out what the Beast is until halfway through - that's only part of the suspense - or that right up to the end you have no idea how he is going to solve the growing problem. It's more the the author has created a flawed main character, a 17-year-old boy who's got a terrible family and has been in foster homes for years, and who is the kind of boy to whom bad things happen without him having any control over them. Then when things go wrong, he is always the first accused, and he fights back as best he can.
But the Beast is a whole different kind of problem. Enough of the commendations from me! It's called "Beast" by Ally Kennen (Marion Lloyd Books).
BTW, Marion Lloyd was one of the publishers who came out to the Sydney Writers' Festival in 2005, along with Sharyn November and David Fickling. A great bunch of publishers, who all said very interesting things about the books they wanted to publish.

Feedback and Research

I took the challenge before Christmas and submitted a 250 word hook to Miss Snark, ready for her to tear my words to shreds. Amazingly, I got to Stage 2, submitting the first 750 words of my novel.
While she was accepting children's and YA novels, I went for broke and sent adult crime. I read a huge amount of crime fiction, and have always been in awe of the plotting skills of crime writers. I wrote one crime novel about 10 years ago but it wasn't very good and I realised it in time to avoid lots of postage costs and rejection letters.
So why am I writing a crime novel? For fun. Because I had a great idea for the story about three years ago that just would not let go. And for the challenge - the plotting challenge. It's all there but does it work? Do I give the solution away too soon? Do the main character's personal demons intrude on the crime/mystery element too much? Who knows? Only critical readers can tell me, and I'm not up to that yet. More rewriting to do.
Anyway, did Miss Snark like my 750 words? Kind of. She said too much of it was setup, but the characterisation was good. And I did receive a huge number of comments on the Comments trail. Enough people liked it to make me think I was doing OK.
We all know that doesn't mean it will eventually be publishable! But it helps.
What I did learn was how to edit and cut more ruthlessly. When you only have 750 words in which to get the story moving, show character, and hopefully get to a point where the reader will say 'I want more' ... that means cutting out backstory, explanations and info dumps, tightening dialogue and making every word count. Even doing this for the first two pages is a great lesson in how it can be done for the whole book.
Kristin Nelson's blog this week has a great post on points to watch out for in genre fiction - things that are taking your story nowhere, such as characters sitting around talking about what happened.
It's here at http://pubrants.blogspot.com/2007/01/glitch-take-two.html
What am I reading right now? I whizzed through another old Patricia Cornwell - I was re-reading them in order of publication, and I'm over it now.
So off to the library, and I came home with, among other things, a couple of true crime books - Australian true crime focusing on Melbourne gangland and undercover cops. I need to read these a bit at a time. They're somewhat overpowering otherwise. No wonder I love fiction so much - real crime that's happening around me, even if I don't directly experience it, is scary. Try one of these books and you'll see what I mean (the Underbelly series by two Age journalists is a good starting point).
On the other side of research, I have to thank the two ambulance officers (paramedics) who were having a quiet coffee break in Borders the other day and barely flinched when I approached them and asked if I could get some information from them. They gave me on-the-spot info about what happens when they attend a scene when someone has been stabbed and bashed (my character), what their procedures are, etc. It's called 'primary source' material, but it's important to get this stuff right. Thanks!
Now all I need is a detective in our police force for the next bit of research.

NY Resolutions

Every year I vow "No resolutions, just goals". What's the difference? Resolutions for me tend to be things that aren't to do with writing but more things like staying healthy, going to the gym, walking more ... and they don't last long, sad to say.
Goals are the things I write down and pursue. I've been doing this for years, and my writers' group also does goals together in February. Usually I have the same list all round - no point having two! I also keep most of my goals to myself (I share them with my group, because they understand what writer's goals are, whereas other people like my family might want to ship me off to the funny farm). I put things on my goals list that are steps towards publication - simple jobs such as sending out my work regularly. If you have ever sat down to send out query letters or manuscripts to publishers or magazines, you'll know how that will eat up a whole morning without even trying. It's part of the job, but often a part that I don't focus on as much as I should. That's because I'm usually writing in the spare hours!
But my big goal right now is to clean out my office. That's BIG. That's not a two-day job. It's a two-month project, at least, that will require a hard heart and a large rubbish/recycling bin. Not to mention some boxes for all those books that will be going to the charity shop.
It's not that I'm a hoarder (I am, a bit) but more that I tend to keep stuff in case I can use it in class for teaching. I'm not organised enough to tear articles out of magazines and file them, so I keep the whole magazine. I also firmly believe that if I had room for one more large bookcase in my house, I could get rid of the piles of books everywhere. Yes, I also know that if I stopped buying books, I'd begin to solve the problem, but there is just nowhere to fit another bookcase right now.
The whole project is so overwhelming that I decided to approach it the way I do other things - one little step at a time on a regular basis. Yesterday I did one shelf on my main bookcase, and managed to throw out one-third of what was there. Onward and upward!
I'm also keeping track of words written this month, which I don't normally do in a formal way. Maybe I'm mentally setting a benchmark for the other months of the year?

We're Off and ... Writing

I always know when the holidays have truly kicked in because I am writing regularly again. Not just putting words on the page (I do a fair bit of that anyway) but holding the novel in my head, thinking about the characters and the plot, letting the back of my brain do some of the work too, and generally feeling like I am in the writing zone.
Other times of year, I'm either not able to write at all for a couple of weeks at a time (usually when I am marking student writing or workshopping it - it kind of sucks the urge to make your own words right out of you), or I work on shorter things that have a smaller focus.
I also read more in the holidays, and am able to think more about what I'm reading. Yes, I am still examining Lionel Shriver's sentence constructions!
"We Need to Talk About Kevin" is a very scary book, especially if you've had kids. The idea that you might give birth to someone who ends up murdering eight people is bad enough, but then to seriously consider how you might have contributed to that outcome ...
Here in Australia, "The West Wing" is into series 6, thanks to the ABC (taxpayers' channel) who got hold of it and are providing us with two episodes a week. We still haven't got up to the episodes I saw in Tucson in Sept 05! But last night's episode on Iran and nuclear plants was eerily echoed by the news broadcast straight afterwards. It's the one thing about watching the show so long after it was originally made - the news has caught up with the fiction.

That Fish

My friend Snail, who is the expert around my way on all things in the animal and insect world, may be able to tell me what this is.

I said puffer or toad fish. But I was guessing.

And the bit at the front (mouth end) is bait and hook. Said fish was safely released into the briny when hook had been removed.

Running Out of Books

Nothing worse than a holiday where you run out of books to read and (gasp!) there are no bookshops nearby. I was reduced to the bookshelf at the holiday house and am now convinced that what you will inevitably find on such shelves are all the books other people bought to read on holiday and, discovering they are terrible and not worth reading, leave them behind for the next desperate reader. It's not often I give up on a book but I will if the main character is unlikeable. Such was the case with "Before You Sleep" by Linn Ullman. While I'm not averse to a character who feels compelled to seduce men she sets eyes on at weddings and in supermarkets, I do want to feel at least some sympathy for her. This girl was awful. So mean-spirited and mealy-mouthed. So I didn't care what happened to her. Bang! The book went back to the shelf.
Then I discovered that I had another book in my suitcase that I had forgotten about! "We Need to Talk About Kevin" by Lionel Shriver. It had been on my pile, waiting to be read, for months. Now was the time! So far I am finding it very interesting and engaging, all the while taking note of her sentence constructions (sounds boring and anal but I'm sure other writers know what I mean).
Miss Snark did finally reach my entry for the Crapometer, and amazingly enough, I was asked for 750 words. So not only did I not get totally Snarked, but I have another chance at having my writing eviscerated by the inestimable MS. I think that blew all my other Xmas presents out of the water!
New Zealand was cool and changeable, and I managed to acquire a minimal tan, all the while feeling very un-PC, because having a tan now is considered foolhardy and silly, thanks to the hole in our ozone layer and the prevalence of skin cancer. I also managed to survive a boating accident, where a rock suddenly materialised in front of us too quickly to avoid. Boat suffered gouges in the hull (thank goodness we were aluminium, not fibreglass) and a bent propellor. We were able to head for home and reach it OK. I doubt I could have swum 6km back to the beach.
On the other hand, I did catch a few fish, including a glorious fish with spikes that one person said was a toad fish and another said was a puffer fish. Either way, it was fat and ugly. I also caught a schnapper, a cod, a pink maumau, a terakihi, a trevally and some leatherjackets, most of which went back in the water because they were too small. A veritable marine aquarium!
And best of all, I wrote. As most of my family now accept that I am a writer and I do get stuff published, they more or less left me to get on with it. Although the strange looks I received when I wasn't writing (but was gazing out to sea for long periods), and I explained that I was plotting ... well, I guess they all thought I should be typing!

Finished ... shopping

I finished the last of my Xmas shopping on Wednesday. The feeling of relief was immense.
Today in Melbourne it is very hot and dusty, but not as smoky as yesterday, when we had the highest pollution reading ever (I think), comprised mostly of airborne particles, i.e. smoke from the bushfires. Right here in the middle of Melbourne, my house is not likely to catch on fire (unless someone is silly enough to leave Xmas lights going and they short out). But there are a lot of people out in the bush who have been on high alert for more than a week. As one said yesterday, "I wish the bloody thing would just come so we could fight it and be done."
Our house seems to be suffering from pre-Christmas bah and humbug (not me, I'm hiding from them all and writing). You would think the joy of being on holiday and not having to go to work would cause some level of happiness. Apparently not.
Having spent many $$ on gifts, I was reluctant to spend more on books (a good reason to hate Xmas actually) so I decided to do something I'd been considering for a while - get out some old Patricia Cornwells and read them and try to work out why I dislike the last two Scarpetta books. And I think I've figured it out. The recent books have been written in first person/present tense. The old ones are in first person/simple past tense. She seems to be one of those writers who can't handle present tense. She's not alone. It can be clunky, slow and verbose, the opposite of the immediacy you might be trying to achieve.
Go back to simple past, Ms Cornwell. Do us all a favour.
And I also read (in one day - you can tell I'm on holiday!) "Small Steps" by Louis Sachar. Terrific book. Great example of raising the stakes for the main character, making things gradually worse and worse, while you're biting your nails, hoping that this time the guy makes the right decision.
OK, back to the rewrite I'm working on. I've read Miss Snark's crapometer for the day - it'll be days and days before she gets to my entry. I can wait.

This Writing Job

Most jobs in life are noted for their sameness - you do the same thing day after day, week after week, or things go in cycles but are usually predictable. While many people declare they hate their jobs (95% according to a recent survey), they would probably say what they hate is the boredom and sameness. Yet, paradoxically, this is the very reason why they don't quit. Sameness is safe, predictable, secure. You work your hours and you go home at the end of the week with a nice paycheck that pays the bills and buys food.
Writing? Never the same. Just because one story or novel worked out well, that's no guarantee that the next one will be easier, or even work at all. If you write the same story over and over, the critics will lay into you and you'll be labelled unadventurous or boring or predictable. If the new book is deemed of a lesser quality than the previous, you'll get it in the neck for that too.
Money comes and goes. Usually, it goes. Last year's bestseller is this year's remainder, and that healthy royalty cheque dwindles alarmingly, so that you start to think about going back to waitressing or driving taxis.
Output surges and dies. One year you produce three books, the next year(s) you strike a story that just won't work and several years later you have to abandon it. No product, no sales, no advances, no royalties.
The exciting flush of the first draft dies under rewrite after rewrite after rewrite. Your agent stops answering your calls. But you have to keep writing. What else can you do?
Actually, you can stop. I've known several writers who have written three or four novels, then gone off to do something else. I've known talented writers who decided it was all too hard. No one is knocking on your door, begging for your latest manuscript. No one cares much whether you write or not. Your mother keeps hinting that you should get a real job.
Depressed yet?
Not me. Not right now. Oh, there are times when I yearn after my old waitressing job (except now I'm such a cranky person I'd probably be a reincarnation of Carla from 'Cheers', only worse). But the lure and promise of the story idea not yet written, the vision of the story that haunts me for several years until I just have to write it no matter what, the high that comes from having written, the way in which my own words can surprise me at times as if it wasn't really me who wrote them ... there are a million reasons not to give up, and they are all to do with writing. Not with getting published. That's the honey bee on the hibiscus (well, you didn't think I was going to say 'icing on the cake', did you?).
That's my quiet Wednesday evening rumination after lunch today with my writers' group, the best group of women writers I'll ever know. They're my Christmas present every Wednesday afternoon, all year.
Write on, girls.

Bookshop Addiction

A lot of writers I know suffer from the inability to walk past a bookshop. Even worse, many of us cannot enter and then leave a bookshop without buying at least one book. This is only partly solved by visiting the library more often, as they have this unfortunate rule that you have to take the books back to them (and they even fine you when you're late!).
But there is nothing more joyful than wandering along the shelves and finding a new book by one of your favourite authors. Such was the case last week when I discovered a new book from Louise Rennison. First of all I had to check it really was new (her books are often released in the UK and US with different titles, and here in Australia we get both), and then because it was hardcover, I had to hold my breath and check the price. US and UK hardcovers here often cost AU$35-40, which puts them out of my reach.
Lo and behold (a suitable Christmas expression), it was a "cheap" version at only $20. So it went into my shopping basket immediately. If you want a good laugh, try her books - YA humour written in diary form - they are guaranteed to make me laugh out loud.
I'm still waiting for Kate di Camillo's book, "The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane", to come out here in paperback. That's one HC that does pass the $35 mark.
My holidays are looming so now is when I start stockpiling "good reads" for my time off. Christmas? What Christmas? Don't bug me, I'm reading. Yes, and writing lots instead of little bits. Headspace is gradually returning, filling with words instead of admin and chores and grading and enrolment stuff-ups.
Books I would recommend from this year's reading? I tend to go with the ones that stay in my head - to me that means they were strong enough to be memorable. "Whale Talk" by Chris Crutcher, "Dairy Queen" by Catherine Murdock, "Kira-Kira" by Cynthia Kadohata, are three I can think of right now.
I've enjoyed the new Ian Rankin, James Lee Burke and Tess Gerritson. And my binge on literary fiction in the middle of the year was great for thinking and writing. I've also got "We Have to Talk About Kevin" on my stockpile, along with "Thirteen Moons" by Charles Frazier.
All that reading will be wonderful, and it will keep me away from the computer which has caused my neck and shoulder to seize up again (serves me right for not doing something about the ergonomics). The laptop will be allowed on holidays with me as long as it stays on my lap and doesn't sneak up to the table (too high and screen at bad angle). I have to get this ergo stuff right, because the dictation software programs all hate my voice and make millions of errors.

Nearing the End of the Year

No time to catch up on all the blogs I missed while I was away (other people's, that is) so have skimmed a few and discovered that we are coming up to the Dead Zone in publishing. Agent Kristin Nelson says she is madly submitting this week because after that, most editors are off on early Christmas breaks or trying to clear their desks. Useful to know, if you are about to submit something yourself.
Where I work, we are madly interviewing new applicants for 2007, and it's a very interesting process. These are people who want to be writers or editors or something like that (we once listed 34 different jobs our students could do after completing the Diploma, and novel writer was only one), but we have learned the hard way that we need to screen more effectively. So we created a grammar and punctuation test. One page long, three short sections. Some people still manage to make more than 20 errors. We have also learned the hard way that these people do really badly in our course and often either fail or drop out.
The bald, unvarnished truth is - if you want to be a writer or an editor, you have to know how to use the English language, how to make it work to its ultimate best, and if you can't punctuate properly or keep your verb tenses consistent or spell reasonably well (and know how to use a dictionary for the tricky ones), you haven't got much chance.
I sometimes feel very lucky to have gone to school when all that stuff was taught - I see young people coming out of high school who didn't get the early grounding and have very little idea of even where to put a full stop and end a sentence. I've come to believe that if you don't get it early on, it's five, or even ten, times harder to learn it later on. I have seen a few who have managed it, but not easily.

Hong Kong Pics

Fish shop in Wanchai on the left- most things are still alive (and moving - if something isn't moving, apparently you bargain for a cheaper price). And the other photo is of Tai O, a fishing village on the south end of Lantau Island. I caught the fast ferry to Lantau - a half hour trip - and then the local bus to Tai O. The village is famous for its shrimp paste.

All Business?

Have returned from Hong Kong, and Melbourne seems quite sedate. I had to do grocery shopping today at my local centre (mall) and found myself greeting people and being very friendly - a HK hangover, as everyone there is so polite and helpful, even if you are asking dumb questions (such as "where is the tram stop?" and they point just behind you).
We packed in a huge amount while we were there, running a wide range of classes and seminars, building our "client base" (feels strange saying that - I still think of everyone as students or fellow teachers or trainers - the difference between business and education, I guess, but don't get me started on the new university culture where business takes precedence over education).
We had classes at the YWCA, training sessions in editing and writing with Women in Publishing, more training in creative writing with secondary students with Chinese-school teachers, I had a great day with the Grades 4, 5 and 6 at Peak School and another inspiring day writing with kids in Repulse Bay. Also spoke to SCBWI members one night. Time off? Well...
One day in Shenzen, shopping in the madness that is Wo Lu - a building filled with five floors of little shops, all with sales people who follow you and tug at your arm while trying to persuade you to buy something (and offering lower and lower prices the further you go from their shop). We had a shopping guide book that helped us to find our way around what must have been at least 1500 shops.
Another day at Hong Kong Park in the huge bird aviary (and by the turtle pond), then over to Kowloon to look at clothes, ones which I was more likely to afford. The branches of Gucci, Versace, Chanel etc were avoided.
One afternoon at Stanley Market, which was a welcome change as no one pursues you down the street and you rarely need to think about haggling. I think only the strong and the brave can endure more than two full-on haggling days.
My favourite place was Wanchai, where our hotel was - lots of lanes filled with the local market stalls selling everything from live fish to dried seafood, all kinds of vegetables and fruit, and live chickens beheaded and plucked while you wait (no, don't look, Sue!). Once again, I ate many bowls of noodles and drank my favourite ginger tea with black honey.
My last night was spent at the Happy Valley race track with the EMB social club outing. All my chosen horses did dismally, so I came home with a lighter purse but a happy heart.

Missive from Hong Kong

Have now been here nearly two weeks and am getting ready to return to Australia. It's been a long haul this time, with lots of training and meetings and discussions. Too tired even to read most nights! And although I did discover a local cyber place, I can only come here in school hours as after school, the place fills with screaming teenagers playing online games.
The Blogger site is in Chinese so I'm not sure how to use it - am guessing most of the time!
The weather has been mostly grey with a bit of rain. Everyone keeps telling us how unusual it is, and we should be having cool sunny days. Hmmm. And the pollution is a huge issue. I went out to Lantau Island yesterday (climbed the 260 steps to the big Buddha, with lots of rest stops) and it was so hazy you could hardly see two kilometres. Apart from the fact that people living here are starting to think about leaving, and some big companies are looking at relocating so they don't get sued by sick employees, they will kill tourism if they don't do something. No point going up the Peak if you can't see a thing.
A lot of Hong Kong-owned factories have apparently relocated into China and the pollution is coming from there where there are few emission controls.
But Hong Kong itself is as lively as ever. I'm staying in Wanchai and have wandered through the local markets a few times, staring at live fish in tanks, meat being cut up and displayed on the street, huge piles of dried seafood and flower shops that sell a bunch of orchids for the equivalent of AU$1.20.
The tourist markets are the same - lots of Americans here this time, and not just because the Kittyhawk is in the bay and sailors are everywhere (you can tell them by the really short hair). I have become used to eating noodles nearly every day, haven't missed coffee at all, and haven't been brave enough to try duck tongues or pig's knuckles.
Bought a collection of Chinese short stories but haven't read them yet. I've been deep in Louisiana, reading James Lee Burke's new Robicheaux novel. As always, fantastic description and a good story with lots of flawed characters that make you think about who is who in the world, and how do we really know the inner workings of most people.
Food for thought.

Blogging in Chinese

Hmmm how to use Blogger when all the instructions and labels are in Chinese? You guess and hope the right buttons are in the same places.
Cyber cafes where a million kids and teenagers playing online computer games and smoking and shouting and shooting each other via the computer doesn't make for concentration or focus.
Two days of seminars and thick pollution so far - can't see the Xmas lights across the harbour because of the fog/smog.
Not enough sleeping hours. Hotel sends wake up call 6am first morning - good. Leave it in the system. Second morning 6am again. No sleeping in here.
TV viewing - a documentary on plastic surgery of film and pop stars. Horribly riveting.
Dinner beckons. Smoke in here is awful. Gotta go.

Launches, Reviews and Grey Hair

This is what you like to see at a magazine or book launch - the magazine arrives and everyone dives for a copy and is engrossed for the next ten minutes (ignoring the wine and food!). This is the launch yesterday of our new magazine "Lizard" - not a fiction and poetry mag but a collection of great articles about teaching and learning. You might think it sounds a little boring, but there's all sorts of topics - exchanges, the Clarion South workshop, model cars, the oldest student in the world, immigrant students experiences, just to name a few. And terrific images from our graphic arts students. By "our" I mean Victoria University. The launch was at Iramoo on our campus - Iramoo is where we have a sustainable environment precinct with 35 hectares of protected grasslands and also where we have a number of live-in lizards - the endangered legless lizard to be exact. Those people who have been to Building 10 on the campus will remember the strange yellow and brown exterior which is meant to represent the lizard also. And that's why the magazine is called "Lizard". If you live in Australia and would like a copy (yes, free!) just email Sue at profwritingtafe@vu.edu.au

Onto other bookish things - not surprisingly (to me) "On the Jellicoe Road" has just been favourably reviewed in the latest edition of Magpies, a journal of books for children/YA. The reviewer said, "Taylor's story is interspersed with out-of-sequence excerpts from Hannah's manuscript, weaving together the events of past and present - an effective technique that foreshadows events and builds reader interest." See - told you it was just me! The reviewer was obviously far more on the ball than I was ... no, actually I stand by my original comments.

And when I read a book like "Dairy Queen", which I did in one night this week (could not put it down!), I know that there are still books out there in the world that will capture me and hold me fast and give me huge pleasure and excitement to read. Quick synopsis - DJ lives on a dairy farm and is doing nearly all the farm work because Dad is injured. She's failing high school, feeling pretty unhappy (but not in a whiny, "why me" kind of way, which is why the voice works so well) and then Brian arrives. An arrogant football player from the neighbouring town who is sent to work on the farm as a test. DJ ends up training him in spite of herself, and discovers she is really good at it, and good enough at football to try out for her own school team. The only girl. Sounds unlikely? Catherine Gilbert Murdock makes it work, through the character and the voice, and also the details of farm life and footy training. Loved it. 5 stars.

I'm now reading Ian Rankin's latest, "Naming of the Dead". It was my bribe to get me through all that marking of student work. Nothing like Rebus waiting at the end of a million hours of reading, commenting and grading. I then dyed my hair to cheer myself up (hate to think how many new grey hairs I got from all that terrible grammar and punctuation) and dived into the Rankin novel. I mean, how hard is it to punctuate "I hate bad punctuation," she said. In case you're wondering, if I had a dollar for every time I saw a full stop after punctuation instead of a comma... and then, of course, Word gives she a capital S - She. Grrrr.

Am I writing? A new draft of a picture book - Draft No. 17 but who's counting? All that marking does give me a very critical eye to take back to my own manuscripts, if nothing else!

Jellicoe Road etc

I finished "On the Jellicoe Road" a few days ago, and the second half (thankfully) was much better. Then I thought about my earlier comments - had I started reading it at the wrong time, and therefore wasn't concentrating properly? (I read the first 30 pages while waiting to go in for a small operation, but I don't think the anaesthetic was the problem.)
So I went back and re-read the first few pages again, and decided it was a bit of both. No, I hadn't really been giving the book 100%, but I also felt the author could have made it so much clearer what was going on. For those of you contemplating reading this book, here are some useful clues:
1. The parts in italics are not the main character dreaming or talking or writing something. They are actually a novel written by another character about things that happened 22 years ago. I'm not spoiling the story by telling you this - I'm ensuring that you don't get totally confused.
2. The main character is in a boarding school for kids no one wants. One of the school girls is from the nearby town. Nobody else in the school is.
3. The whole basis of the action in the story is this kind of wargame between the boarding school kids, the town kids and another bunch of boys on cadet camp. Why 18-year-olds would be playing the kind of game that 12-year-olds get off on was a bit beyond me. That's my main "credibility gripe".
4. The main character, even though she seems to be the "dead loss/hopeless case" of the school, is somehow made the head honcho of all the kids (by vote). Another credibility issue.
I have no doubt that lots of readers will disagree with me on this book, but I really don't see what is the point of not making simple things clear to the reader.
Enough grumping and groaning. I've just finished last year's Newbery Award winner, "Kira-Kira" by Cynthia Kadohata, and totally enjoyed the voice and character of Katie. The story is mostly set in Georgia in the 1950s, and Katie is the younger daughter in a Japanese family. Mum and Dad work in the chicken factories, saving for a house, and the older girl, Lynnie, is Katie's idol. The voice is terrific - naive but genuine - and Katie's journey to understanding how to survive in a difficult world is gentle but profound. Good example of 'less is more' - very little overwriting (if any).
Marking? About 60% achieved so far. 30 short stories to go. It's a little like being a magazine editor, only instead of rejections or acceptances, I have to give feedback on what I think is or is not working. The kind of thing we secretly wish all editors would do for our submissions.
In the last class, I gave the students something I had written about getting published, what it means to write or just call yourself a writer (there's a big difference), how to improve, how to survive after you give up the support of classes and constant, immediate feedback, what perseverance really means - all that stuff. I might put it up on my website, if I can work out how to create my circles diagram in Word.
And in response to someone in the newspaper recently who criticised the use of the word "stuff" - it's a very handy word, useful in all situations. A bit like "thingy" - right, Sue?

Something Happens to Someone

It's coming up to that time of year when I have three classes worth of writing assignments to mark and give comments on. Around 100,000 words worth of short stories, about 100 poems (which can take as long as stories to comment on), and probably 30-40,000 words of children's chapter books.
We've been through the workshop mill. Each student has workshopped their piece and received comments. But what happens in the rewriting? It can be difficult to sort out which comments are useful, and sometimes people go off in the wrong direction. I often think the purpose of workshopping/critiquing is simply to develop your gut instinct - that thing that tells you when a story or part of a novel is not working.
John Marsden said once that he reads through a draft quite quickly, marker pen in hand, and just highlights anything that doesn't 'feel right' as he goes. He doesn't stop to analyse, but comes back later and looks at each marked sentence or paragraph (or even word) and tries to work out where the 'not right' feeling came from. It's a good way to work on your own.
I have a couple of students who are having to start their stories all over again. Editing and fiddling is not going to fix the central problem, which is nothing happens. We all do it. Get carried away with the writing, the character, the voice, the pleasure of putting down lots of words. But the story still needs to be about something, it still needs movement forward, in most cases it still needs plot and story questions to keep the reader engaged.
I talked to the class a little about epiphanies and revelations, and it seems to me that many short stories these days focus on those two things. Not only 'something happens to someone' but whatever happens leads to an epiphany for the main character. It may only be a small epiphany, but that's what the story hangs on. Even genre stories can work this way, weaving revelation/realisation into plot.
I have finished reading 'Leadbelly' - the book about the doings of Melbourne's underworld crime figures. A scary book. With scary photos. But it did give me good background information and ideas for something I'm working on.
At the moment, I'm reading Marlena Marchetta's new book 'On the Jellicoe Road'. And I just can't get into it. I'm up to page 100 and ... and ... I keep thinking it must be me. Maybe I'm not paying attention so that's why I don't understand half the time what is going on, who the characters are. I feel like she has been so deliberately mysterious that she's left me almost completely in the dark. I will persevere (because I paid $$ for this book) but by page 100 I expected more!