Why I’m not worried about the kids

Well, at least she didn’t use ‘existential’. Apart from that saving grace, there was little I could relate to in Julie Szago’s piece (‘Slacker generation bowed down by recrimination’). 

Was this all a piece of projection? Bowed down? Recrimination? A wasted twenty years? Speak for yourself. It reeked of a childlike nostalgia for simple answers and couldn’t articulate a vision, or even any element of it, that she says she craves. 

Looking to apportion blame, here or anywhere, is a juvenile nostalgia for a time when we/someone had all the answers. Keating’s giant steps felt good and had a few lasting impacts, but we loved the show most of all. A ‘heaviness’ because we don’t have that once in a generation politician is one I can live with. I loved Keating’s three years and his vision as much as the next person. But if he’d lost, we wouldn’t have had Howard. Growing up means understanding it’s mostly swings and roundabouts and that means there’s hope for the future too. 

Yes, we grew up in the shade of the Cold War. I remember thinking as a teenager that I probably wouldn’t see adulthood.  But, the thing is, we grew out of that. We realised the complexity of life once we looked through an adult lens.

Roe v Wade is now on the ropes. Dark days indeed. Will we be the first generation to withdraw rights, to leave behind a less equal society? I get that fear but thinking that this fight, or any fight, is being played out in worse times than ever before is self-aggrandising.  Many many Americans have seen this coming and been planning for it for decades. There are contingencies. Lobbies. Resources.

Have we really cocked it up more badly than previous generations? It’s a throwing up of hands about doing anything at all. Growing up is accepting that sometimes we might only be able to take small steps. I worked hard for the Australian republic in the 90s.  We lost. It was awful but it wasn’t the end-times. And while I will always vote Yes in any future referendum, I feel now that we need to reconcile with our First Nations people or we replace one colonising institution with another. This is something to work for and we need to. We weren’t always right.

When we got engaged, my partner asked how I felt about the pitter-patter of tiny flatmates. Well, we have three young adults living with us, sometimes four when my elder daughter’s partner stays, and they’re great. I’m not worried about them. I see respect and safety and love. 

I look at their generation and know they have a task in front of them, one we’ve left them, we and our forebears, but I don’t regret having them. I can’t get my head around that thought. I don’t think the kids regret it either. They are self-aware but I don’t see self-loathing. Projection again?  Greta Thunberg has spoken about a cautious optimism now. 

 They embrace their friends, support each other, study, work. They accept—‘You don’t “come out” anymore, you just “are”’ one said recently to their parent. And they are a zillion times better with alcohol consumption that I was at their age. When I tell them to be careful with drinking if they are taking the car, they can’t believe the extent of my wrongheadedness, ‘Nobody does that.’  

Try lifting your head above the parapet, quitting the self-indulgence and see the work going on around you. It gives hope. I recommend it.

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Why we need to read digital

Someone with a pretty sizeable following tweeted recently that reading digitally wasn’t really reading. Go read a book, you animals, she said. I wonder. What is a book?

The words. It’s the words, folks. Who is more deeply moved by the quality of the paper, than the words printed on it?

Yes, I understand that one can appreciate the tactile, but the paper and ink and glue is not why we read. To hold onto that is a sentimental romanticising — or a fetish.

What makes a book?

A book becomes ‘publishable’ when, after writing, it has been edited, designed, illustrated and typeset. Marketing and promotion start in the lead-up and continue after release. So, then what? What else makes a book?

First, we build and run machines to print words onto sheets of paper. That brings considerable environmental baggage starting with the trees, of course, but also from toxicity of inks and dyes and bleach. Then we cut those paper sheets into small rectangles and glue these printed sheets between thicker sheets. Sometimes we bind them into a solid casing needing more glue or stitching. More machines.

The supply chain

These printed and bound wads of paper need to be shipped. From printers, which may be anywhere in the world, to distributors’ warehouses to booksellers’ warehouses and then to retail booksellers. And bookselling is the great unknown. Finding out what sells, and how to sell it, is elusive.

If the bookseller is a shop, the books then go onto shelves. If it’s an online store, more warehousing. When they aren’t sold, they are returned: ‘remaindered’. More logistics, and warehousing is expensive.  A publisher never wants to print too many. These are pulped. Great for the environment, that step. Sometimes they’re pulped because the publisher doesn’t have room, and even though this book might have a readership, it becomes ‘out of print’. Time to move on. Shiny new authors are always around the corner. Sometimes books are pulped because they have an error. It might be a typographical error that is just too embarrassing (book production is a human process) or it might be a legal issue. More pulping. After corrections, then more printing. More packing, distribution and warehousing.

Profits are in volume

Sometimes the publishing house is very tiny, or the author is independent. The distribution of books between factory to warehouse and into bookshop is difficult, especially in a country like Australia with a tiny market but vast geography to cover. It’s expensive and exclusive. If you can’t get a distributor, you can’t get your book into bookshops. There’s a reason that publishing houses have become huge conglomerates (80 percent of books sales are controlled by only a few firms): this system benefits from economics of scale. Operators with volume.

Every one of these steps costs money. And none, none of the above, has anything to do with writing.

Digital is better for authors and for readers

When the financial returns to authors are so small, most make less than AUD$12,000 each year, what steps can be cut out?

Digital is better for readers who can download immediately and read more. We need more, better and cheaper ereaders and we need to be able to buy ebooks from multiple sources. I don’t want Amazon to have any more power than it already has. And we need more options to ‘gift’ ebooks than we have in Australia now.

It’s happened with music

This isn’t even new—we’ve crossed this threshold with music. Most music is streamed now and we’re all still standing, albeit with some nostalgia. I heard Zan Rowe interview Norman Cook (aka Fat Boy Slim) on Triple J recently. Cook seemed aware of an inherent contradiction between his desire for music to be played, and a certain wistfulness about today’s world. We can find and listen to anything anywhere anytime. But has something been lost, he mused? Has the passion gone? Growing up, he recalled the joy of finding copies of records which might only exist in one or two places and he loved them all the more because of the struggle to get them.

We will always need some print books: for libraries, for people with special needs, and for collectors. And books of photography, art, and design, of course. For this, there is print on demand. But for the bulk of trade, or consumer, books, we need to be buying digitally.

Is exclusivity part of the deal? Nope. It’s not. And I think most struggling authors would agree with me.

After the Flood

Delighted to report that Black Phoenix Publishing Collective has published a new book!

I was privileged to edit Stacy Nottle’s beautiful book, After the Flood, earlier this year.

What would you do to save someone you loved? When the storm breaks and the creek at Moonbroch Station floods, more than one life is in danger. After the Flood explores loyalty and the tensions and complexities of abiding relationships. A gripping portrayal of how we cope with trauma, After the Flood is as uplifting as it is thought-provoking.

Available now.

Read about After the Flood and Stacy Nottle here in Tara East’s blog (warning: spoilers!).

Self-publishing 101

Do you have a story?

Today, I went to a full day workshop to hear from two insider heavyweights about the ins and outs of self-publishing. Sue Liu and Anna Maguire are experts in their fields. Sue is a successful self-published author of Accidental Aid Worker. Anna Maguire, Digireado, is a veteran of the book publishing industry.

Wow. If your head is still in that airy-fairy place of one day ‘your book’ will ‘just happen’, these two experts will set you straight. To make it in self-publishing, to move beyond the 100 copies you thrust upon friends and family, to make it real, you have to work hard.

Don’t give up on those dreams which will keep you warm in the dark times, but don’t be deluded either.

Finding your voice

Sue’s background is in marketing and she wanted participants to hone in on what they were doing, and why. With so many books hitting the market every single day, you need a good reason to be writing another one. What is your passion? What have you got to say? And to whom? Sue asked us to set out our dreams, ideas and notions of our ‘book’. What is our journey? Engaging and self-deprecating, she told us her story with lots of laughs.

Sue’s memoir tells the story of her catapulting into aid work after the 2004 tsunami which devastated southeast Asia, including the Sri Lankan community that she had become close to in her travels. Starting with a ‘small’ fundraising appeal, she eventually had to manage boxes upon boxes, shipping, corruption, border security and a myriad other issues, ending with more trips back and forth to see it through. Her observations of the foreign aid industry and first-hand perspective into the conundrum that is philanthropy—what can be freely given, when is it ever enough, and the dangers of it being hijacked by another’s agenda—is an ongoing learning experience and all part of her journey.

Who are you?

She gave us tools to build a profile. You, the writer. A writer’s profile is elemental to their being able to sell their books. And do you want sales? Hell, yes. Sales means readership, and why you are writing.

I have heard from others in the industry, Joel Naoum at Critical Mass for one, that successful self-published authors are those who see it as their small business. In other words, immediate success is unlikely to fall into your lap. Dreams of being on Oprah will likely remain dreams. But, as she said, don’t let that stop you!  While you might not make a lot of money, if you have a story, and want to get it out there, there are tried and tested routes to making it happen.

… and how to make it happen!

Anna took the second part of the day to talk us through the ins and outs of making your book real. She told us about the different paths to publication, budgets, ISBNs, the value of editing, design, ebook creation and distribution, and through to crowdfunding for writers.

These are the things that you will need. While she freely acknowledged that it can be daunting, it’s important to get your head around the fact that it’s a process. Anna gives you the tools and know-how to tick off each box. You can do this!

A changed world for writers, and readers

I love the way publishing has been turned on its head. It’s exciting that we have so many more voices out there and so much choice. But this whole DIY shebang can be a bit of a poisoned chalice. It is not as simple at hitting a few buttons on a self-publishing site.

For instance, Anna made the salient point that you don’t need an editor if your book has no words.  Don’t let yours be the one with the typos and plot holes.

I have worked with writers who had thought, well, they’ve written plenty in previous occupations—they can write a book. The truth is that you can’t edit your own work. Self-published authors who skimp on editing live to regret it.

Take the time to learn how to produce a quality book that you will be proud of. To find out where their next workshop will be, contact Sue at Accidental Aid Worker, and her Facebook page, Accidental Aid Worker – by Sue Liu. Sue also runs mentoring sessions in smaller groups. Contact Anna Maguire at Digireado, or on Facebook.

 

 

If you’re at the next stage, I’ve love to work with  you. Contact me here, or at jessica@yourseconddraft for an evaluation of your manuscript, or an editing assessment.

Women Writing Women

Rose Scott Women Writers’ Festival

I spent a recent Saturday at the Symposium of the 2017  Rose Scott Women Writers’ Festival,  an annual event run by the Women’s Club in Sydney. Its theme this year was Women Writing Women.  An intimate festival, held in beautiful rooms overlooking Hyde Park, its limited numbers allow for easy mingling between writers and readers. This year, it drew such well-known writers as Delia Falconer, Tegan Bennet Daylight and poet Kate Middleton, launching her most recent collection, Passage (Giramondo, 2017).

Helen Garner – a polarising force

Dr Bernadette Brennan started the day with her fascinating biography, A writing life, Helen Garner and her work (Text 2017). On discovering that there had been no in-depth study of Garner’s oeuvre, despite a writing career spanning over forty years, Brennan changed her mind about doing a ‘bit of a saunter’ through the ideas Garner generated, and gave herself up to rigorous biography. Given complete access to the notes, letters and journals that Garner had produced over this time, she found it a revelation. Amongst the papers was 25 years of correspondence between Garner and her early publisher Hilary McPhee, of McPhee Gribble.

Bernadette talked fluently and engagingly about the polarising nature of much of Garner’s work – is she a champion of women’s voices, or the opposite? Is she a fiction, or non-fiction writer? Brennan brought out the importance of Garner’s taking on taboo topics such as menstruation, childlessness, bodies and sexuality, and the shame and guilt they can engender. Whatever side of the debate a reader falls on, Brennan’s book is an overdue tribute to the importance of Garner’s contribution to Australian literature.

Writing real women and inventing fictional ones

The day included panel discussions on writing real women, and writing fictional women. Dr Karen Lamb brought us some pearls from Thea Astley’s life in her biography, Thea Astley: Inventing her own weather (UQP 2015), another writer whose contribution to Australian letters had not received due recognition. Who would have known that she watched The Bold And The Beautiful every day, or her particular genius for ‘one-way intimacy’?

On fiction writing, Tegan Bennet Daylight drew us into the creation of her characters – fragments, pieces of herself and others are broken off and, fertile, these will grow in a new setting. Laughter followed her observation that though she would never lift an entire real person to place in her writing, this rule may be forsaken if it’s ‘really good – there’s a wobble in every writer’s moral character!’ Her new book, Six bedrooms (Random House 2015), is a collection of short stories, revisiting teen years – that scorched period where, once passed, we slam the door behind us. She asks, can children escape their backgrounds?

The writer’s lonely life? Not necessarily!

The support of women within the writing community for each other was beautifully illustrated by Lisa Gorton and Kate Middleton’s friendship. When they feel their work is ‘unpublishable’, when the self-doubt rears, they often turn to each other. Gorton’s new novel, The life of houses (Giramondo 2015), takes familiar places and hidden spaces and muses on the powerful relationships between what is seen and unseen, known, or possessed.

The day ended with a glorious reading from members of the Rose Scott Festival committee of parts of Alana Valentine’s play, Letters to Lindy which recently ended a season at the Seymour Centre, Sydney. Alana introduced the reading with a funny and moving account of working with Lindy Chamberlain-Creighton. It was Lindy’s sense of humour which relieved the hurt and pain, the ‘transmitted trauma’, that came in writing it. Lindy still receives over 1000 letters each year, most regretful of things they had once believed. Valentine ended with the observation that theatre is a communal act. In bringing communities together in a public space, allowing for reflection both individually and in relation to each other, it is greater than the sum of its parts. These shared experiences can be used to foster growth and social change.

The Rose Scott Women Writers’ Festival is now formally partnered with the Jessie Street National Women’s Library, where I volunteer in writing and editing its quarterly Newsletter. I look forward to attending many future Festivals.