Small things ...

There have been some lovely reviews of our new book BatKiwi and the Big Wet (which came out in February) - by Maria Gill on Kids Books NZ here, on the KiwiReviews site here, on What Book Next? here, and by Paula Green on Poetry Box here. You never know how new work will be received, so it is both a relief and a delight to find readers and reviewers embracing it. Plucky Bat and Kiwi are becoming quite the good problem solvers, reminding us that heroism isn't just about being strong, it's also about quick thinking and team work.

I was enormously touched by Paula Green's generous description of my writing  - Melinda has the ink of bees in her writing pen – her sentences flow like honey. It is honey-bee music and I just love it. - this kind of feedback is so very encouraging. Especially as I am now back to working on something novel length. It's an old idea I started ten years ago and it would be brilliant to finally finish it this year. Whether it is publishable or not I will just be very happy to have it completed.

I am also still writing poetry. Mostly for children. I had a bit of a poetry writing drought over summer but that seems to be over for now. I've had some more poems appear on the Dirigible Balloon site - you can see my poems here. Just click on the poem titles to read them. My small children's poetry tribe - The Poets XYZ - are currently running a 100 day challenge (started March 1st) on our facebook page, with the object of writing a children's poem each day, with a weekly theme provided. You can drop in and participate anytime and there is no obligation to show others your poems. While I am not quite keeping up with the pace, I am managing to write a few poems per theme. I really like the idea that by the end of this process I'll have a nice little collection of children's poems across a range of topics. Who knows? I might end up with enough for a wee collection, or at least a chap book. The challenge is a great way to exercise the poetry muscle and I can already feel it becoming more limber and productive. Sometimes too the poem that results turns out to be an adult one so I am increasing my output for both age groups. I am also submitting some of the results. A few rejections have come my way over the last wee while and this has resulted in a lot of doubt on my part. Writing, for me, has always felt like being on the doubt roller coaster. There is never any guarantee the roller coaster has another exhilirating peak to climb, but I haven't quite brought myself to get off the ride yet. Like the novel writing I remind myself that enjoying the process and entertaining myself must be enough. Anything else is a bonus. My ability to believe this varies.

Anyway, here's a poem for children on the theme of 'small things'

I Should Have Muzzled My Mosquito

I had a mosquito as a pet

My friends warned me,

“mosquitos bite people. You’ll

be stuck at home with it, or

will have to muzzle it

if you go for walks.”

But a mosquito is a very

small thing.

I thought I could hide it

in my clothes if we went out.

Unfortunately I found out

my friends were right.

It bit

I slapped.

So I went back to the pet shop

and they had this really cute piranha.

Don't be the wrong kind of influencer...

You would think, as writers who constantly scrutinise words and their meaning, and agonise over their use and placement in our works, that we would be better at using them on our own behalf. 

Lol.

We are sweet gentle souls who have some terrible habits. We hate to risk offence. I want to bring a few of these habits to your attention, point out why they are not in your best interests, and suggest some better habits.

Stop apologising. Okay. Not all the time, in every instance. Sometimes we do make genuine mistakes and an apology is the best way forward. But I suggest apologising for taking up someone's time to do something for you when that is their job, or for intruding when they are at their desk doing the thing that involves the kind of work you are enquiring about, is unnecessary. Providing an apology indicates there is something to apologise for. The reader of that 'sorry' will go looking for that justification and then feel aggrieved in accordance with that apology. There are many variations of this 'sorry' too. Don't use any 'maybe's' or 'perhaps's', or 'I hope you don't minds'.If you are confident in your approach and your belief that you are within your rights to access their time, attention and services then they will believe you. Of course, there should also be no pushing too far the other way into arrogant or pushy language. It can be good to thank them for their time and attention. Be polite and professional. Be someone other people want to work with. Just don't make excuses for your presence in their inbox. 

So, if you are sending an email or other type of enquiry, check it over for apologetic language before you press send. If you find any evidence of apologising, test it. Is it justified? Are you apologising for just being you? For making the enquiry? Delete that self doubt straight away. 

This applies to your work as well. I discovered that if I supplied any notion of hesitation, disappointment or dissatisfaction with a piece of writing when speaking with others, then they would hear or read the piece with that in mind. They would be looking for what is wrong with the piece, whether there was anything wrong with it or not. And it was my own fault. I'd laid the ground work for that response. I'd suggested there was a problem. Present your work neutrally - let the audience decide objectively. Don't give them any reason to question. Of course there might still be problems but let your readers come to their own judgements - their feedback will be far more useful that way.

Taking risks ...

I am not a fan of new year's resolutions. Which is a little flakey because even though the first of January is just another day, like the 31st of december, the beginning of a year still feels portentious and weighty with promise and possibility. Nothing has changed but everything has. There is no mechanism but the slate is somehow empty. So what of 2025? What promise does this year hold?

I tell myself I want to write more. I am doing my best to make the space for this. Wish me luck.

The year is kicking off with the release of the third book in our BatKiwi series. This book, BatKiwi and the Big Wet, illustrated beautifully  by Isobel Joy Te Aho-White, and published by Scholastic, is releasing in February and it is heartening to see a lovely first review here. We have also had an offer to publish My Elephant is Blue (Penguin Random House, 2021), in another territory/language which is very exciting. I thought our wee book had done its dash so it is very cool to see its journey continuing.

I saw A Complete Unknown the other day - the movie about an early phase of Bob Dylan's life/musical career. It was a very good movie. It's had me thinking a lot about creativity, about evolving your work within your art form; what it takes and how it might unfold, about the environment necessary, about how you respond to the market/your audience and how you are allowed to behave. Apparently people will forgive you/put up with a lot if you are a genius. In the movie there is a lot of ambition, selfishness and expectation on display. I am reminded of Henry Thoreau who talked of going to the woods to live deliberately, implying he was isolating himself to think deeply and philosophise, but his wife and (I think) his daughter went too to take care of him. When everyone else is meeting your needs, perhaps it is easier to devote all your time and energy to your craft. Do you have to be selfish to be creative? I certainly think about what is required to improve. Time working on your craft will see improvements. But how do you push through to new heights. What do you need to find another level, to push the envelope to challenge the form? I do think it means thinking less about what your audience expects. In Dylan's case (at least in the movie), he was evolving while his audience were still expecting more work like his previous songs. He took a risk that they would come along for the ride. Obviously we know how that turned out, with 55 albums over more than six decades. I imagine there are also many examples of artists who took risks that their fans couldn't accept. We don't hear their stories. Maybe their artistic endeavours were too avant garde, too experimental or niche? Or just bad. Plenty of experiments fail. I guess it depends what we want out of our writing. I have to accept that I don't always want to play it safe, and that my audience may not always join me on my creative journey. But understanding that and making that choice deliberately makes it easier to accept the outcomes. So maybe this year is a year of greater exploration, of risk taking and envelope pushing. I am kind of excited to see the results.

There's a great line in the movie when Dylan (played by Timothee Chalamet) talks about being asked the eternal question, and his response is a thought provoking tin opener on that can of worms - "They ask me where the songs come from. But what they really mean is why don't they come to them." Perhaps being brave (and maybe a little selfish) and stepping out in to the unknown is where we find the most excitng stories.