Warts and all...

I think it will take me weeks to process everything I heard and discussed at the Spinning Gold Conference. I'm still trying to catch up on sleep even though I went to bed early and rose late while I was there. When everything on offer at a conference is so good and you listen so intently at each session and there are no free periods and the sessions that clash with the ones that you selected are also so good and you try and pick the brains of friends who attended those ones - well - its just plain exhausting. But the thing I liked best about the whole thing (apart from the socialising which was wonderful) was the honesty of it all.

I've been a bit troubled by the fact that some speakers disagreed directly with other speakers on how writers and illustrators should be approaching this crazy business. Some said focus on promotion, marketing, making use of new technologies and work to the market. Others said it is not the creatives job to promote or market (that is the job of the publisher), having an internet presence is unnecessary and create what is important to you, not what the market suggests. Then it dawned on me this morning that that is the nature of the business. Even the experts don't agree on how things are best created, published and sold. What works for me, may not work for you. Both ways may work or both may fail miserably. I'm sorry if this is all sounding a bit oblique. That is essentially what the publishing industry is like. The publishers panel during the conference was brutally honest and everyone looked a little pale and shaken after that session but I came away thinking that we were fortunate that the publishers were willing to tell it how it is. Even they disagreed at times on some fundamental issues, and I do believe some topics were avoided, but the undeniable impression for me at the end was how much all of these publishers loved childrens books and how much they fought for them and wanted good books to do well. A huge thank you to the publishing people who came and spoke to us, who braved the pitch slam and who showed where the heart is in the Childrens' Publishing business. And I am the better for all the speakers' willingness to say what they really think, to share what works for them and to not gloss over the less savoury aspects. I think these are the things that made the conference so great.

Lunacy...

Wow, the WCBA really knows how to put on a conference. I returned from Wellington last night after the weekend Spinning Gold Conference having had my brain poked, prodded, broadened, enlightened and occasionally pickled. Maureen and Fifi, and your amazing helpers, I hope you all realise how brilliant you are. Organisers with more resources (but way less talent) have not been able to achieve what you did. And folks, Children's writers and illustrators truly are the nicest bunch of people you could hope to meet. My only regret is that I did not meet and talk with every one there. We discussed creativity, promotion, marketing, publishing, bookselling, taxes, poetry, being monsters and more, and I plan to blog some more about the things I learned later this week. If you want to know more about what it was like and whether it is something you would like to attend in future I believe there will be some material going up on the Spinning Gold Blog when the organisers have sufficiently recovered (and they are truly deserving of a long break).

In the meantime ponder this:-

From the Herald On Sunday, September 20th - "the book chains are setting aside almost their entire Christmas contingency budgets to buy in more copies (of Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol), should it - as they expect - go lunar."

Peace at last...

Its not a good sign when the organic life form you can relate to best is a chicken with its head cut off. I'm off to Wellington tomorrow afternoon for a couple of events and the Spinning Gold Conference. My SO asked me to do something for him this morning and I warned him there was so much in my brain I couldn't guarantee this little task wouldn't fall out - best not to rely on me right now to do any extra errands. I've been trying to finish an assignment (just put it in the envelope to post - 58 pages in total), still have to do this month's PAYE, answer some interview questions, write talk for tomorrow night, talk for Friday morning, get head round pitching to two publishers and do exercise for workshop (plus check school uniforms will be available for next Monday, food available while I away and someone will feed the pets). Oh, and pack bags. Oops - too late, brain just gone squidge onto floor :) I'd laugh at it but I don't think i understand anymore....peace at last...

The 'must write' gene...

If you are a writer hoping to be published or a published writer hoping to be published again, go read this!. There is nothing simple or easy about this business. Sometimes it gives me hives. Sometimes it forces me to eat large amounts of chocolate. And the recession adds an extra degree of difficulty. The thing is I can't seem to stop myself writing. If I'm not thinking about what needs to go in the washing, or what I'm going to make to feed 5 people with widely varying tastes for dinner, or that I must get on to the accounts so I can do next months GST, I am thinking about story ideas. I am mulling them over, twisting and turning them this way and that to see if they give the right fit - are the darts in the right place and is the zip long enough. It would be handy to stop because life would be so much simpler. I sometimes wish I was wired for a different profession, but every bit of me is coded with the 'must write' gene. And when I sit down and write it feeds my soul. I have been a bit deprived of writing recently and I feel hungry.

I attended the Auckland Reading Association's celebration of National Literacy Day as a guest speaker yesterday. Highlight? Meeting a teacher and three pupils from my old primary school. I don't know who was more excited. All five of us were grinning happily. Another highlight? Children coming up and saying Did you write this? I love this book? There were a number of Jack the Viking fans, and Were-Nana ones as well. I was stoked. Of course there is no better reward than seeing a reader delighted with your book. And that is the other reason i write. Can I write a book that has the same impact on a reader that some books have had on me? How can you say no to that?

I want to know everything about everything....but knowing how to make a tiara out of an egg carton will do for today

I visited a primary school today together with the illustrator of The Were-Nana. I tried a different approach with my talk and it seemed to go okay. Tomorrow I am off to Te Papapa School for the Reading Association's National Literacy Day event. Next week I'm off to Wellington for a Meet the Author event, A Speed Date the Author Event and The Spinning Gold Conference. I have two assignments due. I must say my brain is a little fatigued. It's only a week away and I can't even contemplate the Conference yet. And writing? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ah the irony.

I realised last night that writing for me isn't about finding ideas. Its about being curious. I want to know why things happen, why people do the things they do, how they work things out (in fact i want to know everything about everything but this takes a very long time). Its also a lot about problems. Not all of my stories contain a character facing a problem but most of them do. All my longer works do. I spend most of my time thinking about problems. I think this is the lot of a writer. We dwell on people's problems. Thankfully we also dwell a lot on solutions. Especially when writing for children.

Check out Fifi Colston's blog today. She has made the coolest tiara out of an egg carton and is contemplating producing a book full of clever things that can be made out of this everyday domestic product. I would buy this book if it only contained the instructions for making the tiara but it would be chock full of other clever things so would be even better to own.

I'm going to go ride 25 kms on my bike now and then do sudoku and order takeaways. So there.

You are being watched...

I am having one of those days where the bread keeps insisting on falling butter side down on the carpet. I am doing my best to not get caught up in the possible downward spiral of this kind of event but it keeps happening. As much as I am tempted I am not going back to bed to wait out the day but instead am soldiering on in the hope that this will pass.

Anyway - I digress :)

I checked in at Janet Reid's blog today and several of her recent posts caught my eye and poked at the old grey matter. The first was a link to an article on confidence by Toni McGee Causey which was an inspiring read. Confidence is not something that magically comes along when you have earned it. Its something you must try on and practice, so you will have it when you need it. I don't know if I agreed with everything in Ms McGee Causey's article but I love the key message. There is no person on this earth who does not deserve to have confidence. And some well placed confidence can work wonders.

The other post was this one . I found this one a wee bit worrying. If you are a writer with a presence somewhere on the internet, whether via facebook, twitter, a website or blog, or through some other forum, or you have ever commented on someone else's facebook, twitter, a website, blog or some other forum, give a thought to who is checking you out and what they might be thinking. These days prospective agents and publishers can look you up on line. Do they like what they see? Will it affect their decisions regarding us? Like all our writing, we must always be conscious of our audience and adjust our content accordingly. As Nicola Morgan wrote on her blog recently (her old one, not her new one) being nice is always the best policy. But everyone has bad days, and crazy ones as well. And rotten grammar days too. And what amuses one reader might offend another. I almost wish I hadn't read this particular post. Its tying my brain in knots. Update - of course there may be nothing to worry about - heh.

I think the mad woman in Jane Eyre was based on me

I have turned up in the NZ Book Council's latest publication School Library Issue 3 .

I have been feeling a little crazy recently. I don't seem to be fitting in all the things I want to fit in, or indeed, need to get done. Yikes. And my overwhelming urge right now is to do nothing. Double yikes. My writing brain is all over the place - I can't settle to one story. Maybe its because its Spring. Yes you can have some lovely warm weather, BUT ONLY AT A PRICE. And I think those loved up tuis in my back garden have now become prospective parent kamikaze tuis. Result! (for them) but a bit of a worry when one wants to hang out the washing. I hope they don't take their protective zeal out on my freshly cleaned towels.

In the meantime here is something I started in a different lifetime that I one day hope to finish, if I can ever get my 'a' into 'g'. It is the start to The Snow Raven. It is not one of the three novels I have been working on most recently.

You couldn’t tell. You couldn’t tell from the way the leaves fell or the way the apples rusted away to red on the trees that the winter was going to be special. There should have been some sign, for what came after changed everything.
For weeks the weather slowly turned and the twins haunted the forest. The watery sun smiled down on them, barely making an impression on the chilly air. The drifts of leaves were thick and dry, crackling and collapsing when the twins jumped on them. Round and round the trees they went, forest-combing for the treasures that washed up on those beechy shores.
Forever on the hunt for shiny, sparkly things, Meddlesome was always looking down. ‘Finders, keepers,’ was her favourite saying of all time and ‘I saw it first’ was a close runner-up. Winsome didn’t mind. She was the quieter twin, the one who didn’t mind having second pickings, the one who came after; there were fewer fights that way.
So on this day, as every other, Meddlesome was looking down, hoping for a great find. And she got her wish. In the big dip in the forest where the ground sloped down to a point in the centre, a huge old kauri tree grew. Rounder than the two girls could reach and hold each others hands and tall enough to hurt their necks when they looked up, the tree rose above everything else in the forest. It was a special tree.
Meddlesome and Winsome danced around it twice, and walked around it backwards once, as they always did to ward off bad things. But something seemed different this day. Meddlesome’s fingers tingled and the hair on her head itched as she searched the ground. Then she spied it. In the long grass at the base of the tree she could see something. The twins knew this forest very well. They knew this tree and every centimetre of the ground around it very, very well. There were never any rocks at the bottom of this tree. Now a large, smooth, white stone nestled in the foliage. It looked like an enormous opal, a large shiny egg almost white but not, with many colours shimmering on its surface like oil patches in the rain. But the colours passed and as it settled down to a dull bone colour Meddlesome reached her hand out and picked it up. The sky cracked like a thunder clap and for a second the dull blue blistered with lightning.

“What is it?” Winsome asked peering forward to see the object cradled in Meddlesome’s hands.
“It’s an egg you nelly.”
“I know that. I mean what kind of egg is it.”
“Nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s quite big isn’t it? And the colour is really strange. Maybe its rotten inside,” and Meddlesome put the egg to her nose and gave it a quick sniff. “Smell’s okay. In fact it’s got quite a nice smell,” and she held the egg out for Winsome to sniff.
“Gosh it’s quite fresh isn’t it? Not like a smell at all really but a…a…it reminds me of something.”
“Yes,” Meddlesome couldn’t help but agree. “It’s like snow…snow at Christmas,” she said vaguely.
“Don’t be stupid. You don’t know snow. Especially not at Christmas silly.”
“Well, it’s like I imagine snow smells at Christmas,” Meddlesome pouted.
Winsome about to make another smart remark bit her lip, because the second she thought about it she realised her sister had almost found the answer she’d been grasping at when the egg smell reminded her of something. It wasn’t quite right but it felt very close. But this annoyed her, like Meddlsome finding the egg first somehow annoyed her. “You watch too much T-Box,” she said.
Meddlesome sniffed indignantly.
“I guess its not going to hatch now is it? Sitting in the cold like that,” Winsome went on, something prodding at a small germ of unkindness buried deep inside her.
“I guess not,” her sister replied. “Still we could take it home and keep it warm for a little bit. See if anything happens?”

Its a lot of narrative to begin with which some writers believe can be a problem, but other writers get away with it. I guess if its ever complete I can make a decision about the beginning then :)