Christmas, bushfires and Cooper Jones

Happy holidays everyone!

We had our family Christmas at my place this year, which of course meant lots of preparation, including a mid-summer spring clean and the peeling of many vegetables.

It also meant that some of the family stayed over for a Christmas sleepover. This is not one of our usual family Christmas traditions. In fact, it is only the second time it has happened. The last time was in 2001, when around 3 pm on Christmas afternoon, just as we finished our Christmas lunch, raging bushfires swept over the escarpment and our little village was surrounded, cut off and our house filled with stranded friends and family, many of whom stayed not just for Christmas night but for several days.

We had no power. Very little food. No communication with the outside world. When not hosing down friends' houses or rescuing their pets or keeping watch on advancing fronts, we sat out in the street with neighbours and shared a drink or two.

It was a strange time. A surreal time. A time that came to be known as Black Christmas. And a time that eventually inspired my mid-grade novel Get a Grip, Cooper Jones, which was published eight years later in 2010.

No houses were lost in my village, but many were lost in surrounding villages and in various parts of Sydney. Miraculously and thankfully no lives were lost. And now in 2014, with fires tearing through the Adelaide Hills and rural Victoria, I am once again reminded of that time. My thoughts are with you all! Stay safe.

Time to beach party

Well, the sun is shining, the weather is warming and the gorgeous blue sea is twinkling at me. And it is almost exactly the same sort of day when about ten years ago I was filled with a scrumptious child-like excitement as I headed down the cliff track to the beach to have my first swim for the season.

But as my bare feet hit the still coolish sand, a refrain started to play in my head:

I'm going for a swim in the sea, the sea, the big blue sea. 

The refrain persisted as I garnered up my courage, closed my eyes and plunged into the still coolish water.

I'm going for a swim in the sea, the sea, the big blue sea. 

It continued as I floated in the current (briefly - the water was actually rather freezing!).

I'm going for a swim in the sea, the sea, the big blue sea.

By the time I had plodded back up the track, showered and made some lunch, the refrain had become a poem - a poem that over the next few years would nudge up against a couple of other ideas and eventually morph into a story -  A SWIM IN THE SEA.

And this week, with the red and yellow flags standing sentinel on the beach, marking the beginning of the summer swimming season,  A SWIM IN THE SEA is now officially a book, illustrated by Meredith Thomas and published by Walker Books.

So I think it is time to PARTY! You can read about the launch here.

Beach party launch of A Swim in the Sea at Austinmer Public School.

And, as you can see, I am once again filled with a scrumptious child-like excitement as A SWIM IN THE SEA hits the shelves in bookshops around the country. Yip-ee!

Capturing

How can you not love a book that opens with the line, “I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.”?

I have just completed I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. This is a gorgeous novel written in the 1940s. I absolutely adored the eccentric cast of characters and their bohemian life in a crumbling English castle.

Of particular interest to me was central character and narrator, Cassandra, who fancies herself as a writer. The novel is written in the form of her journal where not only does she recount the happenings of her life and the goings on within her family, but where she also intends to capture all their characters and “put in conversations” in order to improve her writing style, which she feels has been “stiff and self-conscious” up to date.  

She is not always satisfied with her “captures” and vows to work harder at her craft.

“I am aware this is not a fair portrait of him. I must capture him again later.”

“How can one capture the pool of light in the courtyard, the golden windows, the strange long-ago look ...?”

“Capture father! Why, I don’t know anything about anyone!”

What glorious fodder for a writer – and what excellent advice. I love the notion of “capturing”. Isn’t this exactly what we try to do as writers? To capture characters, moments, feelings and places and somehow translate them into words on the page. To capture them precisely or evocatively or eloquently. Or originally? Uniquely?

It is also interesting to note that Smith was so anxious about her novel that once she completed the manuscript, she worked on her revisions for a further two years, where she wrote and rewrote every line. It shows! The characters are so superbly drawn and deliciously quirky, the relationships between the characters complex, authentic and true, and the voice of the narrator doesn’t miss a beat.

For writers and aspiring writers this book is a must-read. There are so many lessons hidden within each page. I don’t know how I have managed to get through life without reading it before now.

Today's inspiration: The 10 pm Question

This is what has inspired me today.

"Frankie stared as usual at the painting hanging beside Ma's bed. It was dark and a little menacing and not at all the kind of picture Frankie would want to look at as he went to sleep, but Ma was devoted to it. A ghostly woman with long yellow hair stood, waiting, beside a four-poster bed hung with draperies. The brushwork was so fine you could make out each strand of the woman's hair and the strain on her knuckles." 


From The 10 pm Question, Kate de Goldi, p 33
Evocative writing that shows so much about Frankie in a beautifully subtle way.

A special kind of magic

Don't you love that special kind of magic that happens when you open a book and start reading a well-crafted story? There are few pursuits that engage the imagination in such a powerful way.

Love this from The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. (p8)

"How long did I sit on the stairs after reading the letter? I don't know. For I was spellbound. There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic."

So that's my inspiration for today.

MAY THE MAGIC FIND YOU TOO.

Today's inspiration

These are the words that have inspired me today.

"Because it was such a very small class, they had a very small classroom, which was perched right at the top of the school. Up four flights of stairs, way up in the sky, like a colony of little birds nesting on a cliff, blown about by wind with the high, airy sounds of the city coming up the hill in the ocean breeze."

Page 6, The Golden Day, by Ursula Dubosarsky. (Allen and Unwin.)

Beautiful, eh?

What inspires you?

Last week I did an author interview for Bug in a Book. You can read it here. One of the questions they asked was whether I had any role models who inspired me during my journey as a writer.

This really got me thinking. It got me reflecting on all the wonderful people who had supported and/or mentored me over the last dozen or so years. The friends, colleagues, relatives, writing buddies, acquaintances who read the many drafts of my early manuscripts, offered advice, gave feedback, shared my passion, listened to me vent my frustration and on occasion provided a shoulder for me to have a cry on. Then there was those whose courses / workshops / events I attended, who inspired me by their passion, enthusiasm, intellect, skill, talent, their willingness to share the lessons they had learnt along the way. Wow. I owe so much to so many. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

But I also came to a bit of a realisation about what inspires me most these days. And that is good writing: carefully crafted words on the page; elegant prose; vivid imagery;  clever storytelling that evokes strong emotions; stories with shape and verve and originality; characters that have blood coursing through their veins, that leap off the page and demand my attention. That's what gets me going, what motivates me to keep writing.

What inspires you?