The Sleep Eaters

Recently I found this intriguing little snippet:

Writers and artists are experts at imagining and creating the lives and worlds of others – but what happens when the tables are turned and they themselves become The Subjects?Three writers/artists will join acclaimed, multi‐award winning author, Sean Williams, in a seven‐day experiment investigating the impact of disruptive sleep patterns on creativity.

Yes. It’s an invitation for a week confined to a controlled environment, without sleep.  With Sean Williams and a couple of other brave creatives for company in your sleep-deprived delirium.

I already have some experience in the crazy disembodied haze that is severe sleep deprivation, thanks to some very bad months with a constantly waking baby.  When the world starts to morph and twist around the edges on a daily basis, you know you need sleep.  This trippy experience awakened in me an ongoing curiosity about sleep, lack of sleep, and especially the twilight zones in between these states of consciousness.

I was very, very tempted to go along to the information session to find out more.   

There’s only one problem:  I already have enough trouble being asleep when it’s time to be asleep and awake when it’s time to open my eyes.  It leads to some pretty interesting dreams on the fringes of both of those states, which, creatively, isn’t a bad thing.  But I’m not sure I could withstand another episode of severe sleep deprivation.  It might break my internal snooze-button permanently.

I am, nonetheless, intensely curious about the project that Sean Williams has initiated.  Is he participating for personal or creative interest, or has he concocted the whole experiment, mad scientist-style, purely to observe the tripped-out paranoia of his co-participants as grist for his next dystopian novel?*  

I can think of a number of fictional scenarios that might rob the protagonists of their slumber, with harrowing consequences.  Did you know that it’s possible to die from lack of sleep alone? There is a rare condition called Fatal Familial Insomnia, in which a person becomes increasingly unable to sleep, at all provoking phobias and panic attacks.  Over months, these worsen into hallucinations, delirium, and eventually death.  Horrible.**

(There’s a story idea in all of this.  The words “Sleep Eaters” spring to mind).

If you’re fascinated by the sound of this experiment, as I am, bad luck. Applications have closed. 

For those of us who prefer to keep our circadian sensibilities intact, there will be a project website with a blog, and a panel presentation during AdelaideWriters’ Week next year. Keep an eye open for it.

The Laser Optometrist by Capt Gorgeous @ Flickr

*OK, so my imagination might be getting away from me there. When you check the project overview, it’s actually about storytelling in extreme environments.  Sounds benign enough.   It’s inviting applications … oh wait…  from people who are interested in “… themes of panopticon, loss of control, consent and ethics, surveillance and authoritarianism.” Yummy.  Deliciously creepy.  Dr Evil, eat your heart out. 

**Technically speaking, the not-sleeping is a symptom of the disease, not the cause of death.  But in the spirit of sci-fi, let's not allow a fact to get in the way of the story, shall we?

3,500

3,500.  No, this isn’t the title of an upcoming sci-fi series on telly. It’s not the number of days until Armageddon (though, I suppose, it could be). It’s not even how much I charge per hour to be my own fabulous self, although that would be nice.

It is, however a magic number.

For starters, it’s divisible by seven, which is a sure sign of magickness if your favourite number is seven.  But that’s not the reason it’s magical.  I’ll explain why.

For the past year or so, I have been writing short pieces, mostly for my monthly writers’ group.  The criteria there is that they must be readable within about 5 minutes.  So I’ve nigh-on perfected squeezing my stories onto a single piece of paper, printed front and back.  This typically means that these short short stories, or flash fictions, are around 700-800 words in length. If I manipulate the page margins, flout the time limit and read really quickly, I’ve topped out at 1,100. (Naughty, yes. But it was a particularly strong piece).  Which is still a very short story in a genre that requires spaciousness for interesting details and imagined realities.

The result of this is that I have a burgeoning collection of short pieces, which are now arriving at a very polished point. But I’ve no clue where or how to find a home for them.

All of this changed recently when I went along to a Writing fantasy, horror and science fiction workshop with Lisa L Hannett. 

Lisa said that 3,500 words is the magic number for short stories in the speculative fiction paradigm.  It’s the peak word count for publication, and very attractive in competitions.

Neat. Desirable. Magic, even.  

3,500.

I suspect this magic number was buried somewhere deep in my consciousness, because I had one of those zinging moments of recognition.  Did I read this somewhere?  Did I learn it at TAFE 10 years ago?  Or did a parallel self hear it in a writing workshop in an alternative universe? 

Who knows?  All I know is that it was an epiphany. 

This single number awakened in me a way forward.  It is time to break out of the short form, and start moving towards longer pieces with greater complexity.  In her feedback, Lisa gave me some useful tips on how to build on existing pieces to move them towards this goal.  Build the central scene, add another scene on either side of it, layer some nuances into the plot, and voila! 3,500 words. 

To someone else, this might not be a big deal, but my toes are bruised from long dancing past an elephant, so a way forward is worth its weight in steel-capped boots. 

And now, for all the magic number enthusiasts out there, here are some more: 

Magic Square by chrisinplymouth @ Flickr

AND I SHOULD ADD:
Besides the illumination, Lisa also provided some suggestions for markets for the very short pieces that I already have.  Apparently it is not an easy thing to do, to contain a whole story within a small word count, and publications that want short pieces are always on the look out for good ones.  Stay tuned... 

Writing fantasy, horror and science fiction with Lisa L Hannett

I seized an opportunity recently, and I’m glad I did.

I chose to drag myself out of bed on a Saturday morning (which is just as difficult for me as it is for Neil Gaiman) and schlep all the way into town, to enclose myself in a room with strangers for several hours, while the first decent sun in months shone brilliantly outside without me. 

Why?  Because it was a workshop about writing fantasy, horror and science fiction short stories.  And that’s what I do.  Or at least, it’s what I’ve started to do, and very much the direction this Denouement gig is taking me.  

The workshop was presented by Lisa Hannett, who is particularly deft with short stories of a speculative ilk, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I throw in some words like dark, imaginative and bent to describe them.  Lisa is fabulous enough to have gone along to Clarion South (pause for a moment of envy) back when Clarion South was still a thing.  Of late she been picking up handfuls of shiny awards and nominations for other shiny awards, and she also happens to reside in our fair city.

Besides all of that (and once my Saturday morning cappuccino had kicked in), Lisa gives a cracking workshop.

The first session covered ways to stimulate story ideas and develop plots.  Lisa emphasised the need to focus on the “single element” in a short story.  You may catch glimpses of the larger imagined reality, but the job of the short is to explore a single idea with depth, in a readily digestible chunk. There’s an elegance needed to include what needs to be there and omit what belongs to the larger picture, offstage.  The art of the strong beginning was demonstrated, along with succinctness of description and avoiding the dreaded info-dump. 

Lisa came armed with stimulating exercises and thoughtful handouts.  Throughout, she referred to esteemed writers (Sean Williams got a mention), and backed up all of her points with examples of excellent writing within the genre.  Finally, she issued a challenge – to submit a draft for workshopping by a small group in the second session, along with a critique by Lisa herself.

I went away filled with enthusiasm and ideas, which must be the best recommendation possible, right?  Not only did I add to my knowledge base, but the convergence of creativity and cleverness in the room stimulated my own imaginative energies. 

I even had an epiphany.

This was one of those workshops that will stay with me and continue to inform my thinking and writing for a while yet.  Definitely worth peeling my eyelids open early on the weekend for. 

Note to self: eat that frog

Yes. I admit I sometimes struggle on the time-management front.  What writer doesn’t, given the time demands of our craft in our already-full lives?

Some people deal with this by getting up, monastically, at 4am and forcibly shoving an extra couple of hours into their lives that way, but that ain’t gonna happen.  I am not a morning person.  Neither is Neil Gaiman, as famously homaged by Diana Wynne Jones in Deep Secret, so I’ll just take that as a  literary sanction for sleeping in.

So, without adopting the schedule of a cloistered nun, there are a number of other tools we can use to improve our time use.  Some of them address big-picture issues, like goal setting, getting your house/desk/psyche organised, or prioritising by using some kind of box/list/diagram/mnemonic with daily, religious fervour.

But there’s another simpler one:

Eat that frog.

No, not the chocolate variety, although they are good too.  (Especially the sublime, velvety goodness of a Haigh’s chocolate frog).  There must be some special compound in good quality chocolate that stimulates creative thought, right?  However, to date this strategy is evidenced more by my splendid physique than by my impressive publishing record.

No, the idea of Eat that frog is to do the one thing you’re most dreading first.  Get it done at the start of the day when your energy is high. Once it’s done, you will have freed up all the time and energy you might have spent avoiding it – and the whole day will be more productive.

This is not a new concept.  Maggie Stiefvater, a YA author that I admire enormously, has talked about time management and the work ethic that allows her to combine writing, painting, and all the other things involved in being an all-round  creative genius and a mother.  At the top of her list is Work first, then play.  Which, if you think about it, is a variant on the frog eating. 

This is a really good writing tool – especially when you’re circling around a hard bit, something that you’re avoiding, something that is starting to look like writer’s block.  Jump on in, eat that frog.  The worst thing that can happen is that you will write a terrible first draft - and aren’t all first drafts awful?  Now that the frog is no longer glowering at you, you can go back and revisit and refine what you need to.  The best thing that can happen – and it may surprise you – is that you release a whole new wave of ideas and energy. 

Note to self:  this post is not about frogs, or time, or even about writing. It’s about resistance. It’s about the inexplicable obstacles we place in our own paths. Especially when we’re about to push through to a whole new level of understanding or achievement. Why do we do this? Who knows?**  All I know is that the times when the resistance is strongest, and the pressure is greatest, are the times when we are closest to breaking through to the place that we most want to be in.

That’s worth eating a frog for.

And here's a nice cautionary tale about what happens when you don't:

I kissed it but it just got bigger
by Cpt<HUN> @ Flickr

  

**Actually, Stephen Pressfield might know. He has written a whole book about this, The War of Art. I haven’t read it but it comes highly recommended by a fellow writer whose entire being lit up when he was describing its value to his writing practice.  

Illegal bookmaking, and other seelie fortunes: Holly Black

Illegal bookmaking is currently camping in my consciousness, since it’s a tidy little earner for Cassel Sharpe, the central character in Holly Black’s excellent YA trilogy, The Curseworkers.  After devouring White Cat recently, I’m now enjoying Red Glove.  It’s a great left-of-centre story that will keep you guessing.  It involves magic but not as we know it, and is told from a unique perspective.  Holly skilfully imbues her character with a fascinating level of tension around the moral ambiguities that he lives with, along with the usual teen angst over finding his way in the world, and love (of course)!  It has piqued my interest to read more of Holly’s work, and especially her short fiction, which promises to be twisted, in every good way.  

And now for the big question. 

Readers might recognise Holly’s name from her earlier work, The Spiderwick Chronicles (with Tony DiTerlizzi), and the Modern Tale of Faerie series (beginning with Tithe).  Speaking of Holly Black’s name, isn’t that a suspiciously good moniker for someone who writes in the fantasy genre? 'Holly' evokes all the mystique of ye olde worlde when evergreens were revered for their magickal properties and bowls of cream were left out for the good folke as insurance against your children growing up a bit …funny.  'Black' hints at the spooky-wooky, the shadow element that gives fantasy its depth and psychological realism.  Surely that must be a nom de plume? 

No, it’s not (if Wikipedia can be believed).  It turns out that she was born Holly Riggenbach (a great name, but not nearly so evocative).  Then she married her high school sweetheart, Theo Black, simultaneously landing herself an accomplished illustrator for a husband AND a kick-goblin-ass publishing name. 

I’m not sure if this is fortune favouring the bold, or just evidence that granting the faerie folk their due respect can pay off.  I’m not sure you could create a better pen name than that if you tried.  Definitely some seelie fortune going on there.  I, on the other hand, also married my young sweetheart, but his surname rhymes with belch and squelch.  I’m sticking with Gascoigne.  

The Dark Path by crowolf @ Flickr 

Everyone's a Winner! Best Australian Blog denouement

Things got kind of busy there for a while, (denoue)mental, you could say. In my frenzy of real-life activity (yes, I do exist away from this computer) I missed blogging the exciting announcement of the Best Australian Blog finalists, and then the winner.

The finalists, then, in the Words and Writing Category were (in no particular order):

·       ANZ LitLovers LitBlog

·       Just Add Story 

·       Killings: The Kill Your Darlings blog 

·       PublishEd Adelaide 

·       The Book Post 

My personal favourite among the finalists (if anyone’s interested) is Just Add Story:  spare, clean writing, plenty of cleverness, and more than a pinch of writerly mystique too (Uh oh. Too late to re-anonymise D:D).  I feel a kindred-spiritedness with this blog, which examines the writing process from the inside, albeit with a different slant to Destination: denouement.  So my (imaginary) money was on Just Add Story to win.

So it’s probably a good thing, then, that I’m a writer and not an illegal bookmaker**, because the winner was ANZ LitLovers LitBlog. This is a massive, longstanding blog, chock full of reviews and commentary about Australian literary fiction (mostly).  The best new blog was Judging your breakfast, and the People's Choice went to TV Tonight, which received 785 votes, in a field where 17,250 people voted for their favourites among 940 blogs. Congratulations to these, and all the other category and award winners.

And as for Destination: denouement?  It was always going to be a long shot, wasn’t it?

I am, however, happy to announce that I received a vote from at least one reader who was not a) genetically or b) contractually related to me (nor even a facebook friend).

That’s got to be some sort of achievement.

I did however treat the whole competition as a massive blog-stomp opportunity, and found some great – mostly new – blogs in a similar vein to my own.  So, in my book, everyone’s a winner!   Congratulations to all those brave blogging souls who stepped up to the challenge just by participating.

And now all the excitement has died down, I can get over blogging self-consciously and get back to writing, about actual writing. 

** More on illegal bookmaking HERE.  

Write every day

Write every day, line by line, page by page, hour by hour. Do this despite fear. For above all else, beyond imagination and skill, what the world asks of you is courage, courage to risk rejection, ridicule and failure. As you follow the quest for stories told with meaning and beauty, study thoughtfully but write boldly. Then, like the hero of the fable, your dance will dazzle the world. 

~ Robert McKee

I wrote a lot by Mullenkedheim @ Flickr 

Get started writing

I was thrilled to be invited by Connie Berg to co-present a “Get Started Writing” workshop for members of the public at the Tea Tree Gully Library.  The aim of this two-hour workshop was to introduce participants to writing by “doing”, and give them some tools and hopefully some inspiration to continue on with it.

Ironically, I was nominated to run the section on poetry, for which I have great appreciation but little compositional skill.  I had enormous fun putting together a haiku worksheet, and a shared poetry-writing exercise, which was enjoyed with amazing and occasionally hilarious results.  Participants then wrote some of their own fiction, and had the opportunity to share their work with a supportive audience.  Anyone who’s engaged with a good group of writers knows how enormously rewarding and encouraging this can be. 

But life is a wonderful and mysterious thing, and the workshop held a surprise for me.

I was surprised at the late arrival of lady who had both the face and the surname of my Grade 3 teacher, Mrs R.  Could it be my most fondly remembered teacher?  She had been flaming-haired and vivacious, passionate about imagination, about learning.  I remember, as the quiet, strange girl that I was, that this was the teacher who showed me that if you put in extra effort, you can produce something good.  Something beautiful.  Something that you can be proud of.  Even though I spent only two-thirds of the year in her classroom, it was a pivotal time in my learning.  She encouraged my reading, but even more importantly, she switched me on to writing, neatly and well. 

I remember the shining feeling of pride seeing two gold stars and a smiley stamp on what must have been one of my very first works of imaginative fiction.  I clung to that feeling when I was suddenly uprooted to a distant, hot land.  I changed schools five more times in the next five years, but the memory of her and what she had taught me kept me engaged with learning, even in desolate emotional terrain.  I had wondered since whether I might ever meet her again, and hoped one day to thank her.

And yes, thirty years later, in this community writing workshop, it was indeed Mrs R.  She remembered the sad, quiet girl I had been at age 7.  When the class ended, she handed me an acrostic poem she had written for me.  This beautiful, expressive, expansive teacher – who’d had no idea of the impact she’d had on my life - had seen a spark inside a quiet child and coaxed it to a flame.  She was rewarded all these years later by seeing that girl transformed, and that flame now blazing as passion for writing and the joy of sharing it with others.  

The significance of this moment was not lost on me.  It seems like more than just coincidence that I reconnected with the teacher who taught me to want to write well, in that same space – the sphere of writing, of sharing learning, of getting started on the thing that calls you.  It affirmed in both of us the power of sharing what you’re passionate about, in a moment of unexpected, exquisite denouement.

So, the moral to this story, if there is one, is to get started.  Get started writing.  Or painting.  Or singing.  Or whatever it is that lights you up, get started doing that.  Do it often, and share the joy that it brings you.  It creates a space, a magical chink through which all sorts of unimagined rewards can enter your life.

What are you waiting for?   

Light it up... by young_einstein @ Flickr

(Denoue)mental!

Writers live twice.  They go along with their regular life, are as fast as anyone in the grocery store, crossing the street, getting dressed for work in the morning. But there's another part of them that they have been training. The one that lives everything a second time. That sits down and sees their life again and goes over it. Looks at the texture and detail.

~ Natalie Goldberg, Writing down the bones.

Well, my darling denouementees, time for an apology regarding my lengthy absence.  It’s been pretty busy up on the high road to denouement over the last month, … er, couple of months.

My advice to you all: do not try to combine tertiary study with the writing life. Ever. 

So, what have I missed in that time?

Firstly, I was invited to co-present a “get started writing” workshop for members of the community at the Tea Tree Gully Library.  Life is a wonderful and mysterious thing, and as I stepped up to share the great joy and reward of writing, I was answered by a very personal and life-affirming magical moment. (More on that, later).

And then there was the supreme excitement of the announcement of the finalists in the words and writing category of the Sydney Writers’ Centre Best Australian Blog competition. (More on that, too). 

And if it was at all possible to top that, I did, when I flew out to the National Library of Australia for a week-long Writing Masterclass with none other than Australia’s biggest-selling (and much loved) author, Bryce Courtenay.  (Definitely more on that).

And then I came home, and ploughed through the end of the Semester on nothing but single-minded determination and a packet of jaffas.  And in the sleep-deprived haze that followed, I had my first personal feedback session with the Mutant Stepchildren.  What’s not to love about a writers’ group that calls itself the Mutant Stepchildren?  (More on that, and perhaps I’ll wax lyrical about the art of feedback, too). 

It has been such a tasty slice of life pie that I’ve been fully taken up with consuming it, and I’ve had nothing left over to blog with.   But I’ve been storing it up, my darlings, oh yes I have.  Like they say, writing is life lived twice…   And you will be reliving it with me shortly.

How not to spend your Sunday

That was fun!

I’ve just spent the last 18 hours of my life learning more about malware removal than I ever wanted to know.

No, I’m not clueless.  We have a pretty good anti-virus set up, and I know what sort of pages and files to avoid, and yet this nasty – and difficult to remove - operator still managed to find a way in.

Alarmingly, it took a total of seven different processes/programs, several of which were lengthy and needed to be repeated in sequence a number of times, to finally flush out the offenders.  This consumed a large portion of what would otherwise have been productive writing time.

Take home messages for writers:

·       Keep your anti-nasties software and operating systems updated.

·       Back up your work to a remote location ** Make sure you do this even if you ignore everything else in this post **.

·       Get a good spyware tool to use alongside your regular virus checker.  Increasingly malware is using innocuous looking cookies as its way in.

·       Take action when your browser first starts running slowly (in hindsight, I should’ve investigated more carefully a couple of days ago when I noticed how clunky it was getting).

·       Remain calm and use the task manager to close the browser when an “attack” begins.  This can reduce the scale of file corruption.

·       Always have several punchy antivirus programs at your disposal.  Sometimes one just ain’t enough.

Fortunately, everyone else on the planet hates malware just as much I do, so there were some good how-to guides and free software available.  The only other things I needed were moral fortitude and a violet crumble.

It has been a warning to be more vigilant.  This time it was just an annoyance, but it has reminded me how close the threat of loss of data always lurks.

The secret ingredient in blogging

There is something that has been playing on my mind lately. Surprisingly(!), it's about blogging.

There are a lot of 'how-to' blog pointers out there. The vast majority of these are based on marketing fundamentals.  They are the same rules that govern the production of commercial copy: advertising.

Think of your market. Select a handful of key words with maximum appeal to this market. Keep it simple, short, sweet. Write always with your target in mind. Tweet. Throw in some controversy. Not enough to get yourself sued, but enough to create a storm of response through the blogosphere.  

This is not a bad thing, and no doubt it has raised the calibre of many commercially-driven blog enterprises. But I would like to speak also in defence of self-expression.

For every successful blog who has followed these - yes, copy-writing - rules, there are plenty of others who have just gone right ahead and done their own thaing and succeeded. 

Irish gumbo has been steadily serving up bowlfuls of his own special wistful and wry observations, unabated since 2008. (I love that blog. And I want the recipe). 

Last year, Lori at RRSAHM broke all the rules when she blogged her way blindly through the unthinkable implosion of her life. She is still pulling shards out of her wounds, and her blog allows her to slowly examine and arrange them into small patterns of meaning and moments of grace.  Something powerful is unfolding there that defies the laws of blogging. 

And in the same year the all-time most hilarious (and full of whimsy) story was told in all its passive aggressive glory by The Bloggess, who was just as surprised as Victor when success rang the doorbell. 

So what's the secret ingredient?

Each of these blogs demonstrates that there is something other than a set of formulaic rules behind good writing.  They are each imbued (or in the case of The Bloggess, saturated) with the personality of the writers themselves.

How do I get it?

Learn from the successful.  But also know that success is not the product of a formula. It requires something unique and intangible that only you can provide. Write what you mean to. Be genuine. Keep it real. Put a piece of yourself into it. You - and only you - are your writing's secret ingredient. Learn to savour your own unique style by having fun with it, and then arrange everything else to bring that special intensity to the fore. 

That is the place where your writing will succeed.

On being judged

This blog about writing has, it seems, veered more into writing about blogging.  

This is the result of the juxtaposition of the blogging workshop I attended earlier this week, and the Best Australian Blogs Competition 2012, in which DD is a nominee in the words and writing category.  So let's just call April blogging month, and trust that when the excitement dies down, Destination: denouement will resume a more writerly tone. 

In the meantime, I’ve been glued to my site analytics, trying to divine whether our distinguished competition judge(s) have passed through, but I am no wiser.  So, if you are reading this and you’re a judge, welcome!  Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.  Please take a moment to enjoy the Denouement ambiance.  Would you like a cup of tea? 

Old woman pouring tea, unknown artist...
by Black Country Museums @ Flickr

It is a strange feeling to know that your personal work is being assessed, critiqued, scored.  But as writers, this is an essential part of our métier.  Eventually someone will be reading what we have written, and deciding if it’s good or not.  Feedback is an important tool to improve our writing, and there are a number of ways to get it. 

Probably the least useful is to launch your untested work directly at its intended publisher in the hope of an encouraging reply.  Asking your proud mum/spouse/infatuated friend may not be very helpful either, unless these people have a literary bent and an uncanny degree of objectivity.  Instead it is better to find someone with experience or a shared interest in writing.  A writers’ group or feedback circle can be one way to find such people, even if this is online.

Receiving feedback in a group situation can be challenging, especially when you have sweated over several revisions of a piece.  It’s good to remember that many people will have many different opinions, and they can’t all be right.  You’re not required to agree with all of them, but do consider their merit.  Be thoughtful.  But also be pragmatic.  Not everyone will be prepared to push themselves into the space where they can understand what it is you were trying to do, especially if it’s different to what they are used to.  Feedback is just a tool.  You can pick it up, and you can also put it down when it’s no longer useful to you. 

Most importantly, criticism is only ever about the work that you've done, and not about you. Take a deep breath and separate the two.  This can be hard when you're just getting started.  That is when feedback can be most fraught but also most beneficial.  So be bold, and invite the challenge.  Treat it like the learning experience that it’s meant to be.  I don’t know if I'll ever discover the truth of exactly how Destination: denoument has fared in the Best Australian Blogs Competition (oh yeah, unless it WINS), but the rigour of being judged has done me some good, regardless.

Blogging workshop - notes

The big day arrived, and I headed out to the South Australian Writers’ Centre for the Just what is blogging? workshop.  It was an interesting and well-structured evening that provided a number of blogging resources to bring home.  And it stimulated some critical reflection about Destination: denouement.  It turns out there are a number of blogging principles that I have been very nonchalantly ignoring since its inception.  (More on that another time).

Much of the two-hour workshop was aimed at people with much less blogging experience than myself.  However there were some pointers worth attending to:

·    Regularity - prunes aren’t just for nannas*.  Readers will lose interest if you don’t turn up up regularly.

·    Scheduling - use the scheduling function in your platform to release posts at a time that works for you and your readers.  Louise posts on a Thursday and then has the weekend as social-media engagement time. 

·    Use your key words in a targeted way – The language in your URL, post titles, first paragraphs all counts. (Uh oh. Multiple infractions by Destination: denouement).

·    Social media is your friend - (I really need to get across the twittosphere).

·    Content, content, content.

This last point was not explicitly stated, but it coalesced in my impressionable brain as the most important idea of the night.  Louise, Jane and Sarah all talked about how they started their blogs and attracted readers, and it was obvious from their stories that content is everything. It’s what attracts a readership and causes it to flourish.  Each of them has a readily visible niche to write to.  Each of them understands exactly what it is they are giving to their audience.  And crucially, they know what value it has to their readers.

*Nanna Jean was an enthusiastic advocate of the power of the prune.

Cake: the ultimate metaphor

There's a certain amount of healthy egotism involved in being a successful author/artist/pastry chef. Not only do you need to believe in what you produce, your belief needs to shine through your craft in such a way that it is visible to other people.  It's an essential element in attracting an audience.      


strawberry cake by Kanko* @ Flickr



Look around. There are thousands of writers out there. Some of them write well, some of them badly, but they all believe they're providing something that is worth someone else's time to consume. We can't all be the next bestselling author, can we? Even if you baked the tastiest cake ever, if every other person at the morning tea has also baked a wonderful cake there's a chance yours might never get eaten. So how does a cake get chosen?  It might be a very ordinary cake that happens to have magnificent icing, or it might be baked by someone whose cake was memorable last time, or maybe everyone saw a similar cake on TV so they think this one will taste good too. The choice of cake is as individual as the people who are choosing it.  So too with writing.

So how does that choice happen?  How do I, as a writer, elevate my craft to the extent that it rolls deliciously off the page and straight onto my intended audience's tongue?

And does it really matter whether I sit here typing away and never make the moves to earn the readership?  Does it matter if I ensconce myself in a long and happy but solitary writing life? If all the work I've ever done slides quietly with me into the grave? 



Yes, it does. It matters to me. And the reason it does - besides a pathetic desire to rise above the ordinary - is because writing, for me, is about connection.  It's not about the cake in and of itself, but about the mysterious transaction that occurs when I invest my time and energy to create something of beauty, something that will nourish another person. And equally, it's about receiving that same gift from others. When I sit quietly, listening to a fellow writer read her work, I'm receiving something precious and true, that has spilled from the very essence of who they are.



This is true of all the great works that we have read - whether they were books, poems, essays, blog posts, letters, published or private. The connection allows us to perceive and honour the great truths and gifts of our lives, whether that is self-knowledge, healing, or simply the power of telling our stories and having them heard. It is so valuable that it is worth reaching through my inadequacies to embrace the necessary self-belief.  And to keep writing.  And sharing my cake.

What is it that motivates you to keep writing and sharing?



Shameless plea - Best Australian Blog

In my ongoing quest to not come last in the Sydney Writers' Centre Best Australian Blogs Competition 2012, I would like to advise that voting in the PEOPLE’S CHOICE round is officially open.

PEOPLE – this means YOU.

CHOICE – you have one. It’s obvious.  Pick Destination: denouement.

It’s easy. Click on the VOTE FOR ME NOW button which will take you to the Voting Page.  Put a tick in the box next to Destination: denouement about 4/5ths of the way down the first page.

You can select as many blogs as you like, but you can only submit the form ONCE – so make sure Destination: denouement is clicked if you want to include a vote for me.

You can also ask all your friends/family/random strangers to do the same, using the share buttons at the bottom of this post, or the Twitter hashtag #bestblogs2012.

  

Apparently there are 940 eager hopefuls in this round.  This means there is lots of fresh and fabulous blogging going on, so even if you don’t vote for me, take a look at the list because it’s a great way to discover some new blogs to love forever. 

Just what is blogging?

Further to my recent aspirations for Destination: denouement to become a Best Australian Blog, I am thrilled to hear there will be a FREE blogging workshop at the South Australian Writers' Centre in April.


"I CAN HAZ BLOG?!"
|indoor| by arquera @ Flickr

Just what is blogging?

The Media Resource Centre, the SA Writers Centre and the MHCSA are proud to present a workshop on blogging on the 17th of April 2012 (YAY!).  The event will be held in the atrium at the SA Writers Centre and feature key speakers Louise Pascale and Jane Howard from the Media Resource Centre (Interesting).

Editors and moderators from mindshare Sarah Reece and Steve Clark will also feature an introduction on getting started as a blogger on line.

In this new world of technology and the internet, ordinary individuals are allowed the space to speak up - online in cyberspace. With seemingly one of the hardest parts of being a blogger – capturing people’s interest and attention in the constantly busy world of the world wide web (That’s what I said!)

Is blogging something you would be interested in doing? (Yes) Does anyone actually read what you write (Maybe… not) or are you just sending things off into the electronic cyber sphere for your own amusement? (Actually, I do it for my virtual future imaginary fans) … As a writer should you bother to blog or not? (Yes.  Obviously).

The evening will cover topics such as 'What a blog is' and 'why some people blog'. You will get tips on how to develop a following and keep people interested as well as some basics on how to get started and work your way around a possibly confounding new electronic age.

Perfect.  In fact they could’ve called it “Blogging for the clueless newbie” and it wouldn’t be any more perfect for me.  (Ok, maybe I’m being a bit harsh on myself.  Destination: denouement is already FABULOUS.  Clearly.  But it would be even better with a readership).

I especially love that this is a community event, born out of a collaboration that aims to support mental health.  Writing is such a powerful tool, for self-expression, for creativity and for enhancing wellbeing.  I believe passionately in the healing power of telling our truths, and hearing those of other people.  Writing allows us to connect with each other energetically, regardless of whether we ever actually meet.  And blogging is an amazing platform for writing – its flexibility provides endless possibilities for unique expression. 

So, yes!  I will be there (with rings on my fingers and bells on my toes) for this very valuable (and I'll say it again, FREE) blogging workshop in Adelaide.  I suggest you get along to it, too.    

Best Australian Blog?

I’m thinking of entering this blog in a competition.  And not just any competition. The Sydney Writers’ Centre Best Australian Blogs Competition.

Destination: denouement – a Best Australian Blog?  How terribly vain.  But I’m heartened by an award category for blogs that are less than 6 months old.  Mostly because Destination: denouement’s newness is its overriding characteristic.  All those hardened blog veterans can’t wave a virtual candle at my level of inexperience and gauche disregard for the conventions of blogging.

The main convention I’ve been flouting* is the one that the competition refers to as engagement.  The popularity-club side of blogging.  I’ve seen it at work in the world of wildly successful mummy blogs, some of which are fabulous.  Others are entirely vacuous and equally popular.  I know it has a lot to do with linking and commenting on other blogs, pushing content across platforms, and riding the fickle wave of popular attention through its erratic three-second shifts.  I understand how soc-med platforms work, but I’m just not very good at it.  Yet.

I’m just as gangly and socially awkward in soc-med circles as I was when I was trying to unravel the mysteries of teenage popularity at school.  I don’t know which was worse – that I didn’t have a clue about popularity or that I didn’t really care.  Despite this insouciance, I shot to the dizzying heights of rock-stardom years later in a library studies course.  I had all the right accessories – ninja search engine skills, smoking hot Dewey Decimal reflexes, and a brown cardigan.  I was the library studies poster child, but this popularity was effortless, not derived from any conscious effort or strategy.  

Blog engagement, on the other hand, requires consistent effort and strategy.  And time.  Whereas I have a cake-eating elephant slowing me down.  The other competition criteria are the quality of writing, and presentation and usability. 



SWC Best Australian Blogs - judging criteria

I will be entering Destination: denouement in the “words and writing” category.  There is also a People’s Choice award, which I am also (hilariously) going to enter, mostly because the irony will have me cackling on the inside for weeks.  Because I’m pretty sure that entering this category at all diminishes my already tiny likelihood of success.  But if you happen upon this post, feel free to humour me with a vote.  Even if it’s only out of appreciation for my sheer contrariness.

All of which amounts to a not very good chance in the Best Australian Blogs competition.  But there are benefits to entering anyway.  Like the possibility that someone like you might actually wander along and stop by for a read.  So I’d better get the place looking tidy and make sure I’ve got the tea and biscuits ready when you do.

*ETA:  flouting ≠ flaunting, which is what I originally wrote.  Edit, people!

Hunger Games

I’ve been hearing people raving about this series for a while now.  Despite my YA antenna being so underdeveloped, and the book being slower to take off in Australia, the excitement about it leaked through to me a while ago.  It has been sitting on my towering pile of books to read for ages.  It took the imminent release of the movie to fire up my hunger enough to start reading.

Glad I did.  It is addictively good, and I found myself glued to the story much like the citizens of Panem are to the Games themselves.

What I love about The Hunger Games series is its resonance on so many layers of meaning and metaphor.  I devoured all three novels in quick succession, but I think they require another reading just to appreciate the craft of the subtext.  In fact, I’m looking forward to having a look at The girl who was on fire, a collection of commentaries by other YA authors.  There is plenty for an aspiring author to glean from The Hunger Games, because Collins does much with quite simple language.  She delivers an intricate story in very clear and quick writing.  Specifically, in short sentences.  Now, there’s something I could learn.

There is some lovely work in the story that ensures it will have wide appeal.  The hair/clothes/makeup in Capitol are richly painted, and the feasts are detailed for all the foodies out there.  I especially enjoyed the subleties of the character names and the added meaning they imparted - Peetr = Peter = Rock, steady, strong, versus Gale = tempestuous, changeable.  These names are woven all through the series (Snow, Trinket), but my favorite is Rue, because of the deep sorrow and regret that Katniss experiences as a result of their interaction.  The meaning of names has always fascinated me, and I just love it as a literary device.

I haven’t read much about Suzanne Collins’ writing process for this series, but there are some interesting shifts as the novels progress.  The writing in the first book is much sparer and tighter in its sentence structure than in the next two.  It is as if she finds her stride and starts to feel more comfortable to explore the expressive space inside the storyline.  There is progression too, from the very heavily plot-driven narrative of the first novel, to the series resolution which is nearly entirely psychological in nature.  She lures the reader from the bold, apparent facts of the story and into a more interior experience of the themes that she set out to explore. 

Despite having loved all three books equally, I will admit to denouement disappointment  in Mockingjay – I felt the finale was unnecessarily convoluted, and because of that it lost the fluidity and taut pacing that typified the previous resolutions.  However, credit should be given to Collins for creating a thought-provoking resolution, instead of the formulaic version which so often typifies both YA and speculative fic.

Suzanne Collins herself adapted the book for film, which makes me even keener to see it.  Her background is in screenwriting for children, and it has obviously served her well in developing both the experience and expertise to deliver a trilogy of this calibre.