It has not escaped my attention that my last post was entitled: ‘Adelaide Writers’ Week 2014′. No, I have not written on this blog for a year. Yes, I am a little ashamed. More so considering that I haven’t done a whole lot of writing either, other than some revisions on the manuscript I finished early last year.

But once again I managed to get to four out of six days of Adelaide Writers’ Week, and once again it has inspired me to get back on the laptop and start again.

My highlights of this year:

• US authors John Darnielle and Smith Henderson spoke about their books in the context of a ‘troubled America’. Despite the topic, this was one of the more entertaining sessions, with both authors cracking jokes among discussions about gun control, low wages and many of the other issues facing contemporary America.
• Cate Kennedy and Richard Fidler. Yeah, I know Richard Fidler is not an author, but damn he’s a good interviewer and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch him in action with his old school friend Cate Kennedy. I’d love to say I came to him through the Doug Anthony Allstars, but must admit that I’d never heard of him until I discovered his Conversations segment on AM radio during my first lot of maternity leave, and I’ve loved him ever since. He was also popular with the mostly over 60s crowd, with the applause suggesting many were there to see him as well as his interviewee. As expected, it was an entertaining and insightful session focusing on the beauty of ordinary life rather than sensationalism.
• Jenny Offill is a US author whose novel focuses on the highs and lows of relationships and parenthood. She also spoke at length about her own writing process, which I always enjoy hearing, and how this one slim novel was the culmination of eight years of revisions until she found its voice and was able to complete it.
• Roxane Gay was the highlight of the week for me, and the fact that she was interviewed by the wonderful Monica Dux was an added bonus. Gay is a prominent feminist from the US who calls herself a ‘bad feminist’ because she believes deeply in feminism and yet continues to enjoy things that are often considered its natural enemies. As a fellow enthusiastic yet bad feminist in the traditional role of stay at home mother while simultaneously the worst housewife on the face of the earth, I loved this session. Gay was funny, passionate, inspiring and encouraging to the next generation of feminists. I could have listened to her speak for hours.
• Willy Vlautin, another US author, was lovely to listen to. He writes predominantly about common people who are down on their luck, and he spoke with a good-natured, self-deprecating humour that endeared him to the audience. His lovely readings inspired me to buy several of his books.
• There is rarely a writers’ festival that I don’t come away from with a new Indian writer to read, and Jerry Pinto was this year’s gem. I’ve rarely heard a more hilarious account of a writer’s journey to publication, and his book, which is largely an account of his childhood growing up with a mother with bipolar disorder, is already doing important work in bringing recognition to mental health issues in India.

And so ends Writers’ Week for another year. As always, it was such a lovely experience to spend a few days sitting under the trees in perfect weather, listening to writers speak, and a reminder that, other than my family, there is nothing more important in my life than writing.

Adelaide Writers’ Week is considered by many to be the pinnacle of writers’ festivals in Australia, and 2014 didn’t disappoint. Some of Australia’s best writers plus a range of high profile international authors converged on the beautiful Pioneer Women’s Memorial Gardens for six days of talking about books to large crowds of readers.

I was lucky enough to have the whole week free this year, and I certainly made the most of it. For the first time in years, the weather, usually in the high 30s, was perfect. The festival begins on the Saturday with two kids’ days running parallel to the main program. I love to see little kids enjoying books, and aside from readings by authors such as Mem Fox and Katrina Germein, there were many other activities to keep small people entertained. We took our two-year-old on the Saturday and he had fun for hours.

As always, immersing myself in the world of books and writing brought inspiration. I haven’t been writing lately while I leave my manuscript to rest, but have been cogitating on a new idea, and throughout the week I found myself adding notes and snippets of subplots into my phone. I’m now feeling quite excited about jumping into it when the time is right. And of course I discovered a whole host of new authors, and bought a huge haul of books from the book tent.

Writers’ festivals are also an opportunity to meet other authors, and it was great to bump into Irma Gold, children’s author and editor of The Sound of Silence: Journeys Through Miscarriage, in which my own story was published a few years ago.

My highlights from the week, in order of appearance:

• Richard Flanagan – Much has been made of Flanagan’s latest book, The Narrow Road to the Deep North, but it wasn’t a book I had any interest in reading until I heard him speak about it. War stories are not usually my thing, but this book, based in part on the experiences of Flanagan’s father as a prisoner of war, seems so personal, and his reading from it so beautiful that it went straight on my list of books to be read. He also made a statement about asylum seekers that really resonated with me – and obviously with many others, as it earned him thunderous applause from the huge crowd – in that all the world’s great atrocities began with considering a group of people as less than human.
• Jaspreet Singh – It’s no secret that I’ve long enjoyed Indian literature, so it was great to hear this Indian/Canadian writer talk about his book, which chronicles the 1984 anti-Sikh massacres. Again, this is quite a personal book, as Singh was a Sikh teenager living in Delhi at the time. While I have read a bit about this in the past, it’s a little-known issue outside of India.
• Louise Doughty – The highlight of the festival for me, this author spoke extensively about her writing process. It’s always great to hear writers actually discussing style, structure and process rather than just talking about the book itself, especially when they admit to the same post-first draft panic that us aspiring authors have! I was only disappointed that I left my book buying too late in the week and all her books had sold out. And Doughty’s realisation that she came to while sitting through a murder trial as research for her latest novel will stay with me for a long time – that the prosecution writes its own novel of the murder while the defence writes a different version, and the jury are literary critics who decide which story has the most credibility. Brilliant.
• Hannah Kent and Elizabeth Gilbert – I saw these two on a panel together about writing historical fiction. Local author Kent is always such a pleasure to listen to, humble despite her enormous success, and her reading from Burial Rites was a reminder of her stunning writing. Elizabeth Gilbert, on the other hand, was a surprise. I’ve never read Eat Pray Love, and have to admit to a certain snobbery due to its commercial success, but her reading from her latest book, The Signature of All Things, showed her to be both a witty, accomplished writer and a down to earth person.
• Fiona McFarlane – I saw this new Australian writer on a panel with the aforementioned Louise Doughty discussing the issue of trust in fiction. Her first novel, The Night Guest, has already had considerable success, making the shortlist for the prestigious 2014 Stella Prize. Her explanation of the thoughts that went into the story was fascinating, and I’ve now added her book to my ever-growing to-be-read pile.
• Alexander McCall Smith – I wasn’t planning on staying for this session, but I’m so glad I did. McCall Smith, author of The No.1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series, among others, is a delightful man who exudes comedy and had the whole crowd in hysterics. Even the AUSLAN interpreter had to stop at one point as she broke down in uncontrollable laughter. Totally entertaining and endearing, and a prolific writer, turning out 3-4 books each year, it was a fun hour spent in his company.
• Jeet Thayil – another Indian writer, Thayil has recently released his first novel about the opium dens in 1970s Bombay. Thayil was open about his own battles with heroin addiction over 25 years, but it was his reading from the novel that was the highlight for me. His prologue is a six-page, stream of conscious sentence, and what a sentence! Thayil is also a performance poet, and the couple of pages he read from the prologue were simply amazing. He didn’t even stand up from his chair, but his presence, his compelling voice, and of course the beautiful words, were an amazing experience to hear. He reminded me a lot of Kevin Spacey.
• Michelle de Kretser – Winner of the 2013 Miles Franklin Literary Prize and the Prime Minister’s Literary Prize for her novel Questions of Travel, Sri Lankan born Australian de Kretser was also a highlight. I saw her on a panel with Jaspreet Singh in an interesting discussion on travel and tourism and what it means to different people and cultures. It was a lovely moment when de Kretser’s former geography teacher stood up to ask a question near the end, demonstrating that teachers can have an influence on their students long after their school years.
• Christos Tsiolkas – While Tsiolkas was not his usual articulate self and often seemed to fumble for words, he’s worth a mention purely for his humility and genuine nature. He seems – still – genuinely stunned and humbled by his own success, despite the brilliance of his dissection of character in his most recent novel Barracuda. He also raised a passionate defence of public schooling, a subject close to my own heart.

And there ended Writers’ Week for another year. I’m now armed with a great pile of books and a lot of inspiration to continue with my own writing. We’re so lucky to have such an amazing writers’ festival here in Adelaide. I’m already looking forward to attending next year.

A few weeks ago, I finished the second draft of my novel. It was probably the biggest structural edit I’ve done, cutting 20,000 words from the total word count while moving scenes around and fleshing out half-formed subplots. The downside of this is that there are going to be holes throughout it which will probably mean another structural edit before I even get to the line edit and final polish.

This time, I’m determined to let it rest for a decent amount of time so I get some distance and perspective before I dive in again. So I sent it off to my beta readers and await their feedback and reactions with excitement and trepidation. I’m OK with the break (other than the undercurrent of anxiety that comes with the approach of baby #2 and probable disappearance of productivity), but I’m not entirely comfortable with not having a writing project to work on. I don’t want to start on a new novel and get seduced by first draft romanticism (otherwise known as never finishing anything). Plus, no ideas. But I want to remain productive and keep the writing muscle active while I can.

So I decided to try my hand at a short story. Again. I’ve written about this before. You’d think by now I would’ve learnt my lesson. Once again I started with an unformed idea and started writing, and this time I got further than a paragraph. I’ve written three pages. But it still doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere. I feel no connection with the characters and I’m already tempted to give up. Rather than write quickly, as I do with a novel first draft, I keep going back and editing, changing happy to glad and back to happy again, which is generally my way of avoiding the fact that it’s not working.

I’ve still got the document open. I still want to write. The story possibly has some potential. I’m just not sure I have the patience to see it through. I’d rather be writing a novel.

No, it wasn’t one of those things where you get yelled at by a muscle-bound exerciseaholic while subjecting your own body to torture. But it was probably just as tiring.

Yesterday I completed the final day of a four day fiction writing bootcamp held by the SA Writers’ Centre. I’d wanted to go ever since I saw it advertised a couple of months ago, but with finances thin I wasn’t sure I could justify the expense. But then, two weeks ago, I was randomly picked to win a $200 workshop voucher, so I didn’t hesitate to book in. And it came at a perfect time considering I’m just embarking on second draft purgatory.

The bootcamp involved two workshops a day for four days covering beginnings, dialogue, voice, imagery, self-editing, ‘irresistible fiction’, characters and point of view.

The first was beginnings with Gay Lynch, which explored some ways to create the perfect first sentence or paragraph for a story. While I am for the most part still happy with my beginning, it’s always useful to look at things from different perspectives. The next workshop for the day was dialogue with Lucy Clark. The content in this workshop was quite basic and seemed to be aimed primarily at beginner level, but again it does help to reinforce existing knowledge.

Saturday began with the voice workshop with Jennifer Mills, which gave us some great tips to give our stories and characters a voice of their own. There were a number of exercises, including writing a scene from the perspective of a different character, writing a scene using only dialogue, then rewriting the same scene from an outside perspective relying on nothing but body language. It was interesting that I initially baulked at these exercises, but doing them gave me a fuller picture of everything that makes up character and story.

Next up was imagery with Lia Weston, which I also really enjoyed. It covered all the different methods we can use to convey mood as well as the physical. It was challenging for me to realise how ingrained cliches still are in my psyche, even though I despise them. The exercises really stretched me as a writer and made me think about how to use more evocative prose.

Sunday began with a self-editing workshop with Patrick Allington. I did enjoy this, but as we were a really large group and we only had three hours, there was only the chance to look at three pieces, the second two of which were rushed through quite quickly. I also found a lot of time was wasted by people debating whether individual words or sentences worked in the piece, which was frustrating enough for me let alone the person who was no doubt hanging out for the expertise of the professional editor in the room! The afternoon session was irresistible fiction with Steve Evans, which I found difficult to focus on, particularly in the afternoon, as it was delivered as a lecture with only a couple of exercises. The day ended with a Q&A with the ever-enthusiastic and lovely Sean Williams, who described his career trajectory and gave us some tips on perseverance and always enjoying the writing process.

Day four was also a highlight for me, with the morning session on characters with Anna Solding. This workshop helped me to get to know my characters better through a range of exercises that I would never normally do when creating a story. I feel like I have a more rounded view of them as people now, which I hope will make them leap off the page once I’ve finished editing.

The final workshop of the bootcamp was point of view with Amy Matthews, and this was another of my favourites. It was packed with exercises, which mostly involved re-writing scenes from my novel from a different point of view. My first reaction to this was that it was a waste of time because I wasn’t going to change the point of view in the novel, but once I’d done them I again found that I knew so much more about the background of the characters and story, which will help with authenticity.

By the time it was all over I was drained and utterly exhausted, but ultimately inspired once again to bring what I’ve learnt to my next draft. It’s always so valuable to meet other writers at all levels, and even to go over old learning with new eyes. I’d love to do something like this again in the future.

I’ve been thinking about writing this post for a long time, and what better time to follow through than when I should be editing my manuscript…but let’s not speak of that.

I read a lot and I love a wide variety of books, but there are some that stand out because they’ve changed or influenced me in some way, either as a writer or as a person. They’re the ones I’ve read multiple times, and that have left me with something different with each read. And so, beginning in chronological order…

Black Beauty by Anna Sewell

This was probably the first book I became obsessed with as a child. I read it over and over again and, in the school holidays, my sister and I would watch the animated movie on repeat all day and then recite the lines across the dining table until our poor parents were driven insane.

This is such a timeless book with its messages of the importance of showing kindness to animals. I was born with a love of animals, but this book inspired in me a lifelong commitment to animal welfare.

This second edition (1898) has the inscription ‘Recommended by the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals’. I’d love to say it was my original childhood copy, but it was a very special birthday gift from my sister Amy and will always have a place in my bookcase.

The Silver Brumby series by Elyne Mitchell

Another childhood favourite, I read this entire series cover to cover more times than I could count and well into adulthood.

Yeah, it’s about wild horses that talk to one another, but it’s the first book I can remember reading where I actually appreciated the skill and beauty of the writing. The author had a real knack for evocative prose and the stunning Australian bush setting has stayed with me my whole life. To this day, whenever I see a ghost gum I can’t help imagining the silver shadow of a horse flitting past.

These were also the first books that inspired me to be a writer – in fact, as a teenager I wrote my own saga about wild horses in the Snowy Mountains which all but plagiarised this series.

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

I was still fairly young when I read this book. It was my first experience of the Classics, and I must admit I wasn’t expecting much. I thought it would be dull, pretentious and wordy, but by this point I was becoming more interested in writing and I was curious about the successful writers of the past.

From the first page, I was impressed by the colourful characters and the dry, subtle humour. And by the time I got to the end I was blown away by the twists and surprises that I could never have participated.

After reading this book I sought out most of Dickens’s other work and was no less impressed with this master storyteller, but as my introduction to Dickens, Great Expectations remains my favourite of his books.

A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth

This book is special to me for so many reasons. Family sagas are not usually my thing, but this book was recommended to me during my Dickens phase as being quite similar in style, and so I gave it a go.

And Dickensian it is, both in its humour and its contrast between classes and castes and the divide between rich and poor. While there are numerous characters, each is impeccably drawn and has their own individual emotional journey. This book also introduced me to a culture I knew nothing about beyond vindaloo, and it spawned a near obsession with all things Indian. Set in a key period of India’s history in the wake of Gandhi and independence, it also gave me an unexpected interest in politics. Each time I read this book I uncover more gems that I missed on the last reading, which for me is truly the sign of a great book.

But most importantly, A Suitable Boy made me serious about becoming a writer. I’d dabbled in writing on and off over the years, but after reading this book I knew it was what I wanted to do. It inspired my first (adult) full length manuscript, which gave me my first taste of industry affirmation, enough to encourage me to continue even though this one will never be published.

Cloudstreet by Tim Winton

This book was a revelation to me. It was the first book I read with such an unorthodox style, and it made me realise that there were ways of writing with brilliance and depth of emotion without using flowery, perfectly-formed prose. It taught me that it’s OK to break rules in writing and storytelling as long is it remains true to the story.

Another family saga (OK, maybe I do have a thing for them), each character, while having their own flaws, experiences the full character arc. I’m a sucker for a redemption story, and every character, no matter how contemptible, finds their redemption in this book.

It is an achingly beautiful story with such a strong sense of place that I could picture every creaking corner of that house and breathe in the dust of the street as I read.

A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry

Another Indian book set in a turbulent period in the country’s history, this one tears me apart on every reading.

The story swings unapologetically from the depths of cruelty and injustice to the sweetest, simplest joys of humanity and back again without ever resorting to cheap sentimentality. It is exquisitely painful and wonderfully uplifting to read.

While it is an often-depressing book, it also does a great job of demonstrating that true happiness does not come with wealth, but through families and friendships, and by accepting others for who they are and where they come from.

I can’t say enough about this book – it’s not for the faint hearted, but for me it’s a must-read.

I just finished the first draft of my book. I’d love to say I typed The End, but I didn’t. I’m not sure if anyone actually does that in real life. Plus, it’s not actually, y’know, finished.

When I first started writing, the idea of finishing a manuscript seemed like the pinnacle. And it’s a big achievement, believe me. This is the fourth time I’ve done it, and nothing quite beats the mix of emotions that come with writing that final paragraph. It’s only once you delve deeper that you realise the first draft is just the lump of clay you have to massage and coax into something that resembles a story. Even if it’s a very good first draft, it’s still not finished.

I started MISCONCEPTION (working title thanks to clever husband) immediately in April this year when I was hit with an idea that wouldn’t go away. Halfway through I changed my mind about how I was going to use points of views of my characters, then three quarters of the way through I realised that a big part of the first third of the story was actually back story, and that what was originally going to be the final act was the most important part of the book. Along the way new threads popped into my head which I’ll have to go back and sew into earlier scenes. As a result, my original estimate of 80,000 words blew out to 115,000.

So, yeah. It’s not finished. I’m now faced with the mother of all structural edits, but I’m kind of looking forward to it. Last month I went to GenreCon, a genre writing convention in Brisbane, and as with all writing type events, I came away with one of those ‘duh’ realisations. One of the speakers made a statement that I brushed off as obvious at the time, but over the three days I was in Brisbane, it crept up on me and I realised I’d made that very rookie mistake.

You’ll never learn if you never finish anything.

I have seen two manuscripts through to as close to The End as they can get without the professional editing process that usually comes with a publishing deal, but since then I’ve written one first draft that I still haven’t revisited, plus two others I started and then abandoned, then this. I caught myself thinking about what I was going to write next before it suddenly occurred to me – HANG ON A MINUTE.

So I’m going to give myself two weeks off (if I can wait that long), and then I’m going to read the full thing through and start editing. In a lucky coincidence, I’ve also just applied for an Australian Society of Authors mentorship, which I am crossing my fingers (please please writing gods please) that I am successful in gaining, as this would give me 25 hours of time with an author or professional editor to bring my manuscript to a publishable standard.

And now I shall wander the house aimlessly wondering what the hell I’m going to do with myself for the next two weeks.

FREEBORN OUT

I wouldn’t normally post book reviews, but this one affected me quite a lot, and plus, I know the author and want to help get the word out about her book.

I met Dawn Barker in 2010 when we participated in the Hachette/Queensland Writers’ Centre Manuscript Development Program, and it was there that I heard her read an excerpt of her then-unpublished manuscript. We’ve kept in contact since through numerous games of Words With Friends and conversations about our writing pursuits, and it’s been fascinating for me to follow Dawn’s journey as that manuscript was taken from its first beginnings to a polished novel.

Fractured tells the story of Anna and Tony in the early days after having their first baby. As the title suggests, things don’t go as smoothly as they expect.

From the first page of this book, the reader knows that something is very wrong. Fractured is structured around a terrible tragedy that is central to the story, and flips back and forth between the days and weeks that precede the event and the consequences that follow, each chapter leading the reader ever closer to the events of ‘that day’. The story is told from the perspectives of Anna and Tony as well as both of their mothers as each deals with the tragedy in their own way.

Fractured is an unsettling, chilling tale of postnatal depression and psychosis that brings a topic that has long been taboo into our lounge rooms and our consciousness. Mental illness is no longer an affliction that is hidden away, but postnatal depression, which affects a shocking one in seven mothers in Australia, is still rarely spoken of outside of a few token paragraphs in parenting books and websites.

Dawn draws on her experience both as a child and adolescent psychiatrist and as a mother of three young children to tell this story. Reading about Anna’s experiences in those first shaky, isolating and stressful weeks of motherhood was so eerily familiar, it was almost as if the writer had been in my head when I had my baby. If I had any criticism about this book, it would be that there wasn’t much exploration of Anna’s transition from these ‘normal’ feelings through to postnatal depression and then psychosis. But then, this may also be a deliberate device as Anna increasingly loses touch with perspective and reality.

Fractured is not a cheery story. If you like happy-ever-after endings, this is not the book for you. It’s a difficult book to read, particularly if you’re a parent. I felt as if I was holding my breath for half of it and crying for the other half. Nevertheless, I think it’s an important book for raising awareness about mental illness and hopefully removing, or at least easing, the stigma of postnatal depression for those who suffer it.

When someone you know becomes a new mother, don’t just offer to bring her food or do the dishes*. Ask her if she’s OK. Ask her how she’s really feeling and encourage her to talk about it. You never know whether you might be opening the door to healing or, perhaps, helping to prevent something terrible from happening.

*Still offer these things. She will love you for it.

Dawn’s website
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This year, for the first time, I took a week off work just to go to Adelaide Writers’ Week. It wasn’t really a whole week off, because I could only go on the three days Finn was in childcare, but it was such a wonderful experience that it felt like far longer.

My week began on the Friday before Writers’ Week started with a forum run by the SA Writers’ Centre. Provocations and Conversations brought together visiting writers from interstate and overseas alongside some of SA’s local authors. The sessions were all really interesting and it was great to hear the perspectives and experiences of published writers as diverse as Isobelle Carmody, Emily Perkins (NZ), Sean Williams, Zsuszi Gartner (Canada), Nick Jose and Jennifer Mills, to name just a few, alongside publishers, booksellers and marketers.

I must admit I’ve rarely been attracted to many of the events put on by the Writers’ Centre in the past. The majority of workshops have been either very specific or aimed at beginners – which is fine, there hasn’t been much on offer for more advanced writers. But I’ve heard they’re really making an effort this year to expand their program for different levels and types of writers, and if this is an example of their new direction, I’m impressed. Apparently this forum will become an annual event run in conjunction with Writers’ Week. You can bet I’ll be signing up for next year’s.

The Sunday of Writers’ Week was kids’ day, so we took our 18 month old son to see Mem Fox. I bought Mem’s first book, Possum Magic, as a five year old when she visited my primary school, and I now read that same much-loved book to Finn, along with many of her other wonderful books. She’s a great reader, almost performing her books rather than just sitting in an armchair and reading them. Afterwards I used my son as a cover for my fangirl-dom and had her sign a book for him.

I returned, blissfully on my own, on Tuesday, where I caught the second half of Emily St John Mandel (Canada) discussing her books. As a writer, I love hearing authors discussing their path to publication and their writing processes, and Emily was open about all this and had the most lovely voice that I could’ve listened to her all day. Next I saw a panel on the rise of food culture, which was interesting in that a foodie and a wine writer were teamed up with Steven Poole (UK), a freelance journo who has just published a book decrying modern food fads as ‘gastro porn’. After this I saw Kevin Powers (US), author of the award-winning The Yellow Birds, an interesting session about his experience during and after his time fighting the war in Iraq, but sadly little about his actual writing. Next up was Charlotte Wood, who has published a series of diverse novels plus a book of essays on food. I enjoyed Charlotte’s down to earth nature and her openness about how her writing is influenced. I ended the day with an enormous books purchase and an indulgent glass of wine and a chat with a work colleague I met up with.

My third visit to Writers’ Week was Thursday, the final day of the festival. This time I brought my laptop and started the day with a coffee and a bit of writing. The first session was Chloe Hooper, the author of The Engagement. I really enjoyed this book, and it was interesting to hear her philosophy and intentions behind the story. I’d been planning to see Kerry Greenwood, author of the Phryne Fisher series, next, but at the last minute I changed my mind and went to see Chika Unigwe (Nigeria/Belgium) instead, and I’m so glad I did. Chika is a most interesting and accomplished woman. She was born in Nigeria and now lives in Belgium, writes in both English and Dutch, has a PhD in Literature and (I believe – may have misheard) holds a Senate seat in her state in Belgium. She spoke about a variety of interesting topics, including the research she did for her novel On Black Sisters Street, which tells the story of African women who traffick themselves to Europe to work as prostitutes and raise money for their families. Chika was easily the highlight of Writers’ Week for me, and I’m looking forward to reading her books.

After this, I had a break for lunch and did some more writing before seeing a panel on book reviewing with Zsuzsi Gartner, Emily St John Mandel and Geordie Williamson. This was interesting but not really my thing. I then saw Toni Jordan, an author who has moved from writing romantic comedies to a family saga set during and after World War II. I really enjoyed Toni’s openness and sense of humour, and promptly returned to the book tent afterwards to buy two of her books.

By this point, the humid weather got the better of me and I decided to call it a day…and a year. I loved every moment I spent at this year’s Writers’ Week, and can easily see why it’s described as the holy grail of writers’ festivals. I’ll be making this an annual holiday for sure.

After having my suspicions for some time, I think it is finally time to accept that I cannot write short stories. I’ve toyed with them on and off over the years, but have rarely written one I’ve been happy with. The most recent (that I completed) was a couple of years ago now and, while it did end up getting published, it was a memoir rather than fiction.

I have a lot of trouble devising a satisfying plot arc within the confines of a short story, especially if for one reason or another I am limited to 3000 words. I usually end up with a rambling fragment of a story that never really gets to the point and then fades off to an unsatisfying conclusion.

I also, for some reason, struggle to create solid characters in a short story. This may be because over the course of writing a novel length manuscript, I’m getting to know my characters as I write, and then I go back and give them more dimension on the second draft. Short stories are just too – well, short – for me to do this. Perhaps if I were more disciplined, I could plan better before I start writing and come up with those characters that really leap off the page.

Recently, entries were open for the Josephine Ulrick short story prize, one of the richest short story prizes in the world. First prize is $10,000. This is quite possibly more than I am likely to get as an advance if my first novel is ever published, so I decided it was time to try my hand at the short story once again.

I came up with a plot and everything. Well, kind of. A loose plot. Which is kind of how I roll (which in turn is kind of the excuse I make for not being a planner). I thought about it for a little while, I opened up a blank document and I typed.

One paragraph.

I determined to go back to it the next day and bang out a first draft, then hone hone hone.

I never even opened the document again.

That’s right. TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS WAS NOT ENOUGH INCENTIVE FOR ME TO WRITE ONE MEASLY SHORT STORY.

I admire people who can write short stories, I really do. Even more so, I admire those who can do both, and do them well. But I am not one of those people.

So I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a novelist, not a short story writer. At least, that’s what I’m telling everyone.