Those who know me will remember that I rarely blog regularly despite the fact I’m always online, always writing and always full of ideas for things to write about. It’s late-ish as I type this (1.11am) but enough people have expressed curiosity, so here goes. What have I been doing since I last posted?
We were in Wellie for a few days chiefly to see my uni friend Danielle get married to her Kiwi love (both currently live and work in London) but also managed to squeeze in lunch with my writing group buddy Alison and her bub Eli.
Alison’s partner Keith works as a compositor at Weta so she pointed out a whole bunch of Weta landmarks including the place where Sir Ian McKellen stays when they film the Hobbit movies, Peter Jackson’s house and a giant green screen tucked behind a nearby supermarket. If you find yourself in Wellie, definitely take the Weta Cave studio tour, best NZ$20 we spent, lots of cool things to look at and great behind-the-scenes stories.
There was also an incident that saw Boff and I plunge into Wellington Harbour but I don’t like to talk about it.
I bought out my publisher and resigned from my part-time job
Maybe this bit should’ve been higher but there’s really nothing quite like Hobbiton to liven up a blog entry.
In December I bought ProjectManager.com.au from Loyalty Media and am currently looking at restructuring my business to accommodate it. Unfortunately this means doing my tax from 2011/12 and 2012/13 and refinancing my mortgage, which I guess I should have done ages ago but you know, things and stuff happened.
I leave CoursesNow in February to go full freelance and I really can’t wait to go. Not a bad job and quite well paid, but boring. Besides which, I was turning away freelance work I would’ve preferred to do. As of today, I’ve racked up more in freelance invoices in January than my monthly salary and I’m only halfway through the month.
I played 544 games of Classic Words
It’s a games app with the same rules and play as Scrabble. On Extremely Hard level (except for that one time I played Very Easy French, which I won), I have a win rate of 69.5% (that’s 378 games), an average word score of 23.25 and a top score of 493. I’ve gone all out 170 times and my best word was CIRCLETS for 158 points (if I remember correctly, it fell over two Triple Word Scores). This is despite the fact that the app cheats if I get too far ahead by giving me all vowels. My least favourite letters are C, V and I.
I read 4 books
Ender’s Game after seeing the movie. Both were excellent.
Raising Steam, because Terry Pratchett + trains = can’t lose.
The Sky So Heavy because I saw Claire Zorn at NYWF last year and she was cool.
The Book Thief (again), because Markus Zusak tweeted about the film all throughout last year so I think it might be good.
I’m currently about a quarter of the way through The Luminaries for an online book club I recently joined. It was slow to start but now I have the rhythm I understand the writing choices in it.
I was almost killed by a collapsing bed
Twice! Well, the first one produced just bruises and warranted the purchase of the second. The new one we bought (a king lift bed) we assembled today. Boff got the bolts mixed up so we had to do some unscrewing.
“Am I going to have a bed fall on my head?” I asked as the nuts came loose.
“I don’t think so, no,” said Boff, seconds before, you guessed it, the bed collapsed on my head. It even had the mattress on it. Without presence of mind and evasive action there could’ve been a serious neck injury. Let me tell you it is not fun being trapped under a bed when you’ve just had a near-death experience.
But I don’t want to leave you on a bad note so here’s something context-less to end this post: “Put it in the second hole,” she said, while screwing in the bed.
If you were on Platform 3 at Strathfield Railway Station at 4.57pm on Friday, 4th October you would’ve seen a wild-haired woman launch herself at the closing doors of a northbound train yelling “NOOOOOOO!” to the bemused sardined passengers squished therein. Maybe you would’ve laughed at her chunky backpack bopping the back of her head as she sprinted up the ramp. Perhaps you’d feel a pang of recognition from the times when you had also barely missed a train.
Well haha suckers, the guard opened the doors for me and you had to put up with my stinky, backpack laden self for two and a half hours on the crowded shitkansen*.
This introduction is important because it is pretty much the only way I begin the annual pilgrimage north to Newcastle, the This Is Not Art Festival (TINA) and the National Young Writers’ Festival (NYWF) therein. I believe I’ve only once missed a train (and one time I drove up with friends) and every other time I’ve managed to twist the tight platform change in my favour wherever I’ve lived in Sydney.
Catching the train enabled me to check into the YHA and walk down Hunter Street for the start of First Time for Everything. And thus begins my series of micro reviews of the readings and panels I attended at the 2013 National Young Writers’ Festival.
* Shitkansen: portmanteau of shit and Shinkansen, Japan’s high speed rail network, describing the very slow train from Sydney to Newcastle, a trip that takes longer today than it did 50 years ago. Naming rights go to Marcus Westbury, godfather of NYWF, the This Is Not Art Festival, Renew Newcastle and Newcastle in general.
First Time for Everything Featuring: Ben Jenkins, Tom Ballard, Jessica Alice, Seaton Kay-Smith, Alexandra Neill, Patrick Lenton, Dan Ilic, Patrick Kelly, Nick Sun
A whirlwind of anecdotes and wry observational humour, this session was perfect Friday fodder. Highlights included details of Alex Neill’s courting method, the ‘scribble and thrust’ (hey, if writing is your forte, I don’t see why not), the revelation that Dan Ilic’s mother is a virgin, and the thought processes that go through one’s head when trying to light a fire in Antarctica ie someone’s bathtub, courtesy Patrick Lenton.
Hi, Heartbreak Featuring: Tom Ballard, Holly Childs, AH Cayley (I believe there was someone else I’ve missed…)
Heartbreak + time = comedy. These readings were tragedy laid bare but with so much to laugh about I hope it ended up being a catharsis of sorts for the performers. The crown went to AH Cayley, who owned tragicomedy with her tale of stalking an ex on an online dating site only to find out that it wasn’t her ex but a… fuck musket. And 16 other hilarious euphemisms for the profile pic that greeted her when she signed up and handed over her credit card.
(Later that night I met AH in the bathroom at the YHA and told her I liked her reading. She was still in her green sequinned dress. I was in my PJs, flossing.)
Reading the Trolls Featuring: Dom Knight, Karen Pickering, Ben Pobjie, Amy Gray, Bethanie Blanchard, Lucinda Hearn, Tom Tilley, Geoff Lemon
I don’t subscribe to the definition of trolls being clever disruptors. Trolls live under a bridge, terrorising those who are brave enough to cross it. They are pests that, along with spam, phishing and viruses, negate all that’s otherwise good about the internet. This reading was a lesson in how nasty trolls could be to those who dared cross large public bridges, ranging from negative reviews to exceptional abuse.
The most powerful was Karen Pickering, a feminist target who nevertheless stood proudly and said: “They call me a slut and a bitch as if that’s an insult. I own those words. I do not choose to think of them as negative.” In response she also outlined some of the best correspondence she’s ever received, including from women who said she’d saved their lives by putting herself out there day after day to cop the abuse vicariously.
Fail Better Featuring: Luke Ryan, Kaitlyn Plyley, Chris Somerville, Alli Sebastian Wolf, Jessica Alice, Ben Jenkins
I was hoping this would be a panel but it was a reading that turned out to be a pretty entertaining one considering it was scheduled on Sunday morning after the Paranormal Formal. I liked Jessica Alice’s take on getting started as a performance poet, and Alli Sebastian Wolf’s tips on how to fail were welcome reminders that it is better to take a risk and try something brilliant and fail than not try at all.
Ben Jenkins capped the session off with anecdotes of failed sketches from his student drama days. If you must fail, he said: “Fail in a ball of glory.” This process is a crucial step to getting better: “It’s important to suck because it recalibrates your instinct. This stops bad ideas before they leave your face.”
Fresh & Frank: an Insider’s Look at the Publishing Industry Featuring: Lex Hirst, Hannah Temby, Bethia Thomas, Nadia Junaideen, Nikki Lusk
A cohort of people who work in publishing telling young writers what to expect of the publishing process—particularly as the market changes—is a very useful panel for any writers’ festival. I didn’t learn anything new (let’s face it, I’ve been to a lot of writers’ festivals) but as a matter of schadenfreude I love hearing the slush pile horror stories. The key takeaway for me was that a writer does not just write; the role of an author is also a matter of brand management.
Lowering the tone: Writing for Kids Featuring: Eliza Sarlos, Claire Zorn, Katherine Sullivan, Amy Gray
This panel looked at the challenges of writing for a younger readership from a variety of angles: Eliza with an illustrated children’s book on female heroes, Claire writing as an adult about young adult protagonists (Amy Gray: “The Sky So Heavy has been described as The Road but with more gags. I think we all agree that’s what was missing”) and Katherine as a teenager writing for teenagers. I would’ve liked to hear more from Katherine about the censorship issues she’s faced working with much, much older editors but overall Amy Gray balanced the panel well.
I reckon I could listen to Claire talk about her book, the writing process, the editing process and the publishing process in a standalone session. She was very thorough and informative. She can come back next year, please!
Too Close for Comfort Featuring: Benjamin Law, Michelle Law, Rebecca Harkins-Cross, Sam Cooney, Lizzie Stafford, Paul Donoghue, Bridget Lutherborrow, Patrick Lenton
This panel had an interesting premise: writer types who live together/are related and the challenges and joys that entails. I went because my partner, who is a professional mathematician, also happens to have finished one more novel than me and is also, by accident, an award winning** playwright. It failed to fire as I hoped despite the occasional laugh. I felt the panellists weren’t quite sure what kind of purpose the topic served and a few acted as if they weren’t confident that they were interesting enough to be up there.
I think I gleaned kernels rather than a buffet of insight. Also, it turns out Patrick Lenton is terrible at grammar and Bridget Lutherborrow is bad at spelling “but together we can write sentences”.
** A minor award, but still!
Linkbaiting Featuring: Brodie Lancaster, Steph Harmon, Sarah Oakes, Oliver Laughland
An informative—stopping just short of practical—panel on how to make something clickable and shareable, and the difference. People click on things they’re interested in, but share things that make them seem smart and/or funny. The view from the trenches was interesting, particularly as each panellist had a different readership (The Vine, Junkee, DailyLife and The Guardian respectively) and it was nice to know that it doesn’t matter which article you’re proud of, the one that goes viral will always be something baffling.
A panel on money is essential for those writing for a living or looking to write for a living and this one did not disappoint. The panellists discussed contentious topics such as when to write for free, what ‘exposure’ can do for you, how to set a rate and how to ask for money. There was troubleshooting advice on what to do if you don’t get paid (or payment is late) and this golden rule from Elmo Keep: “Anything you spend time on that someone else is making money from, you should get paid for.”
Lush 4 Lyf Featuring: Chad Parkhill, Seaton Kay-Smith, Stephanie Van Schilt, Lucinda Hearn, Patrick Lenton
O ho, a panel about booze and writing held in a bar! Drinks in hand, the panellists and audience meandered through drunken recollections with the occasional look at how alcohol informs (or misinforms) one’s practice. Turns out one or two drinks are good for writing and any more starts to detract from work. The panel also busted the myth of boozy prose being the best prose with the revelation that writers like Ernest Hemingway, known for being fond of the bottle, would only write while sober. Also, did you know a lot of comedians get paid in drinks?
Ninety9 Launch Featuring: Vanessa Berry
Vanessa Berry is my zine idol. I met her for the first time in the Watt Space Gallery where she’d recreated her bedroom from the 1990s including original posters, knick-knacks, toys and her famous zines. She launched her book Ninety9 by reading a chapter and explained a little about the making of the book. Incidentally, I devoured the book on the shitkansen ride home (it was all I expected it to be and more). Now to turn inspiration into motivation to finish my third zine…
(I later met Vanessa in Sydney before her 90s Tour of Newtown. I went to The Pie Tin for a snack, sat at a table and heard my name and she was there having a cup of tea. Lovely to chat to her about the book after I’d read it!)
Feelpinions Featuring: Steph Harmon, Luke Ryan, Elmo Keep, Amy Gray, AH Cayley, Lizzie Stafford, Paul Donoghue, Neha Kale
I expected this to be a shambolic rant-a-thon about how Andrew Bolt needs to spontaneously combust but it turned out to be a debate, four speakers a side, about whether publishing opinion was a worthwhile pursuit.
Both sides were fairly moderate with the affirmative tempering the topic with a caveat about whose opinion was worth publishing, though Amy made a great point at one stage: “People sometimes need an interpretation of an event instead of a recital of the event.” The team for the negative eventually won, though, because everyone knows most opinions are craphouse and need to die a horrible, horrible death away from public eyes.
Dodging the Saturday social Featuring: Terry Pratchett, Charles Dickens
I ended up finishing Terry Pratchett’s Dodger (a semi-historical fiction about Dickensian London featuring well, Dickens, but also Sweeney Todd and a few key philanthropists and politicians of the day) instead of going to the Paranormal Formal despite the fact I’d bought a zodiac t-shirt and found my Taurus paraphernalia to wear. Sorry. The next morning, in deference, I had a London Fog tea (milky Earl Grey with vanilla) with breakfast at Sprocket.
Zine fair! Party on! Excellent! Featuring: zinesters, my hard-earned cash
Every year I make this lame Wayne’s World joke and thinks it’s funny until I realise that a lot of the NYWF attendees weren’t even born when that movie came out. And then I feel very old indeed. As I mentioned in my post about Melbourne rituals, zines are pretty much ‘shut up and take my money’ territory. I now have a rule that I have to circle the fair once before actually buying. Unfortunately this year I circled in the morning and then by the time I’d gone to some panels and come back, some zinesters had left (there was a zine about music that sounded interesting, it was being sold by a lady at a table near the entrance so if anyone knows who this is, please put me in touch) and other zines had sold out (How Misogyny Hurts Queer Communities). I did pick up a decent haul, though, including a grab bag that contained What I Learnt from School Sex Ed (one illustration reminded me very much of a flasher I wrote for Seizure, La Vie En Rouge), the entire back catalogue of miniatures and Bastian Fox Phelan’s Tarot.
And that, dear friends, was my #NYWF13. I use the hashtag because I am a Twitter native and hashtags make me feel like there is order in the world. (It also links to the tweets that use the hashtag but for how much longer I don’t know.)
Speaking of Twitter, some shout-outs:
People I knew of but had never seen live before #NYWF13 who are awesome
It’s a ritual that spans more than a decade: the annual trip to Newcastle for the National Young Writers Festival (or NYWF, which I don’t think anyone has attempted to pronounce yet*). I’ve been coming since 2001 (not consecutively, I skipped 2005 because I was gallivanting around the world but I was sad to miss it nonetheless) and I have reached an age (that’s 32, young folk) where the body gives up but the mind urges me on.
I have brought friends and boyfriends to this cradle of words in years past but my default is going solo. All the better to socialise, my dear.
I’m the one who’s terribly dressed in shorts and a pair of cheap shoes (this year Dunlop Volleys, two pairs for $20) and maybe a writerly t-shirt (or an ill-fitting singlet with the signs of the zodiac on it as a vague attempt to fit in with the Paranormal Formal theme) and nobody cares. That’s the best part. No one judges you on your attire. The only no-no is trying too hard and even then if you try too hard in the right direction you’re probably going to be okay. Or no one will notice. I digress…
I’m the one who asks questions like a mature age student but is rewarded with some wonderful insights into the writing lives of festival panellists. I started to think I was losing it when I began to babble about my partner’s predilection for sci-fi at Too Close for Comfort (a panel about writers who are related or partners) but later that night I met Bethanie Blanchard and she told me I always ask good questions and she would know because I’ve asked them at her about three times this year, once at the Melbourne Writers Festival and twice at NYWF.
I’m the one who talks to all the zinesters who have zines that interest me and buys them. I devour a number of them on the shitkansen** home. Only once did I drive up: in a car belonging to a person who is no longer a friend. (The reason I drove was that she was too scared to drive on the freeway, but she also tried to make me drive her around Newcastle instead of schlepping down Hunter Street to get to all the venues.) For all its faults, I really do prefer the shitkansen.
I’m the one who gets to the Saturday night social late and leaves halfway to catch a Cracked Theatre production (or finish reading Terry Pratchett’s Dodger) and then comes in at the end to win the most sober person in the room award.
I’m the one you may spot at a distance early in the morning or late at night, either at Nobbys Lighthouse or up by the Obelisk at the top of the hill.
When I started coming to NYWF I was in my final year of a three-year arts degree majoring in media and cultural studies. I had just finished an internship at Pan Macmillan in both the publishing and publicity departments and was just about to complete my editorship of Soma, Macquarie University’s annual arts publication. I am now a writer with many hats—some paid, some unpaid—but certainly quite rich by the standard of the average NYWF attendee.
But more than anything else, the riches I’ve gained have been social. I’ve benefitted from seeing familiar faces year after year as they’ve become more successful and yet still find time to share their journey with those just starting out, people like Benjamin Law, Anna Krien and Lisa Dempster. I now count a number of NYWF veterans as acquaintances including Lisa (I remember buying Lisa’s Scrabble zine in the early years and then some years ago her book… now we catch up at NYWF and other writers festivals around Australia) and resident Novocastrians Alex (Neill) and Alex (Bennetts) (soon to be Melbournians).
And finally, NYWF reminds me that I must must must write more. ‘Look at all this talent, this energy, this passion for writing,’ says the festival, ‘et tu?’ I’ve yet to finish my novel or my third zine. I’ve yet to sit on the other side of the panel. I’ve yet to get hilariously drunk at the Saturday social. Maybe next year?
* I think it should be pronounced 'knife', where the 'w' in NYWF is silent.
** Shitkansen: portmanteau of shit and Shinkansen, Japan's high speed rail network, describing the very slow train from Sydney to Newcastle, a trip that takes longer today than it did 50 years ago. Naming rights go to Marcus Westbury, godfather of NYWF, the This Is Not Art Festival, Renew Newcastle and Newcastle in general.