S.C. Farrow's Blog: S.C. Farrow Blog, page 2

In this post we talk about: Why you want to write Becoming a writer How you might start on your writing journey

Pablo Picasso was one of the world’s greatest artists and his quote about learning the rules before breaking them applies to authors just as much as it does to visual artists. The universe of fiction writing is vast; however, it also follows rules and laws that are not dissimilar to those rules and laws that we take for granted in the physical universe around us. Knowing something about these rules and laws will make your entrée into the world of fiction writing easier, more knowledgeable, and less stressful than it would be if you were ‘winging it’.

Why do you want to write?

When George Orwell wrote about why he writes, he said, "from the very start my literary ambitions were mixed up with the feeling of being isolated and undervalued". And it's a sentiment that I share.

He also said he wanted to wanted to "write enormous naturalistic novels with unhappy endings, full of detailed descriptions and arresting smiles, and also full of purple passages in which words were used partly for the sake of their own sound".

I wanted that, too. So much so, that trauma fiction is the focus of my PhD research studies.

Anthropologists tell us that storytelling is fundamental to human existence and that it’s an activity common to every human culture on earth. More so, it’s an interdependent exchange of information (which we learned to navigate in infancy) between the storyteller and the listener.

Stories help us to make sense of the world we live in, and to share our experience and understanding of that world with our fellow human beings. They help us to know that wherever we are and whatever our experience of the world we are not alone.

Stories are structured around, and are built on, recognisable patterns, and it’s in those patterns where we find value and meaning. Stories and storytelling are important because it’s the way humans have evolved to learn. Stories invite connection. They invite us into other peoples’ lives and minds. They introduce us to problems and show us potential solutions.

Stories elevate us above all other life forms on this planet. Stories educate us and entertain us. We need them. And we need the people who tell them.

Whether you’ve ever written creatively before or not, you should be asking yourself why you want to write. Why do you want to make up stories? Why do you want to pursue writing as a form of communication and self-expression, whether that’s on an amateur level or professional level? Why do you feel the need to make up stories when there's surely there’s enough drama going on in your real life?

It might be one of the most important questions you will ever ask yourself. But why is it that important? I’ll tell you why—because writing is hard and there will be days when no one, not even yourself, will believe you can do it.

Maybe you’re passionate about writing romance stories or zombie horror stories, but before you put pen to page, there’s a few important questions you should ask yourself:

Who am I to write this story? Who will read my story? Is there room for one more romance/zombie/outback thriller in the marketplace?

As a creative writing teacher, I’ve asked hundreds of students to write about the exact same topic and every single one of them has viewed it and approached it differently. So, no matter what the topic, or how many times authors have written about it in the past, your book will be different simply because your perspective will be different. No one else will write a book the way that you will write it.

However, no matter where you are in your writing career, novice, apprentice, or journeyman, it’s unlikely that everyone you know is going to be supportive of your writing efforts. Maybe you’ve started dozens of projects but never finished any of them. Maybe your friends and family indulge you but secretly wonder if you're wasting your time. Maybe you’ve wondered if you’re worthy of being a writer or if you’re simply wasting your time.

So, why do you want to write? Don’t worry, you don't have to have all the answers right now. If you won’t know why you want to write, that’s okay, the answer will come as you explore the craft. And when it does, your work will take on new meaning and possibility.

Here is a list of possible answers (which is by no means exhaustive):

You want to write for others. You've learned something and want to share the experience. You want to write for yourself. It's cathartic. It relieves stress. You can pour your heart out onto the page and no one will judge you for it. You want to write for fun. That's great, writing is fun. You'll definitely learn something new about the world, and maybe even something new about yourself. You want to write for art's sake. That's great. Creative writing is art. Art is beautiful. And beauty can even be found in ugliness. You want to write to express your grief. Pain and sorrow need to be expressed. They need somewhere to go. Writing gives us a chance to give our pain voice enough to heal. You want to write so you can make money. Fantastic. However, remember that it will take time to build your career as a writer. Many writers work as freelancers which means that paid work can be inconsistent. It's not impossible to make money, but don't count on getting rich overnight. You want to write because you're looking for a new hobby. You wrote some stuff a few years ago and it was pretty good, so you thought you'd give it another try.Becoming a writer

I’m a writer.

I am a writer.

I am a writer.

I am a writer.

Regardless of where you put the emphasis in this sentence, can you say it? Can you call yourself a writer? Do you call yourself a writer?

As well as fiction authors, those who write professionally are bloggers, journalists, non-fiction writers, tender writers, speech writers, technical writers, ghost writers, screenwriters, lyricists, and copywriters. Essentially, anyone who engages in the process of writing, whether that writing has been published or not, is technically a writer.

So, how is this different to being an author? Technically, an author is someone whose work has been published. However, in addition to producing published work, writers who develop original ideas and content for their written work are also considered to be authors. For example, people who write academic papers and blog articles are authors.

Professional writers have a routine that they stick to habitually. They have to stick to it; they’ve got deadlines to meet and bills to pay so they have to get to work—whether their muse has shown up or not.

Some find they write best in the morning, some write best at night, some read the news or their horoscope before getting to work, and some like to write haiku as a warm-up. Some writers can only find time on the weekend, or a couple of nights during the week.

Many writers say they don’t have time to write regularly and so they just write snippets here and there. If this works for you, that’s fine; however, the reality is that working this way makes it difficult to achieve your goal, or to finish anything.

Consider your dedication to the craft of writing and how important it is to achieve your goals. If you’re passionate about completing a great short story (or even a novel), then you must adopt the mindset of making time to write rather than snatching time here and there. To become a productive writer and to actually finish your projects, you need consistency and routine.

Whatever your situation, try and develop a routine that fits your lifestyle, and stick to it. Here’s a list of tips for establishing your writing routine:

Work on one project at a time. It’s hard enough trying to finish one project let alone multiple projects. Create a dedicated writing space. This might be a full office in your home, or it could be a corner in the kitchen or a bedroom, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s comfortable and that you’re able to go there and escape the outside world in order to enter your fictional world. When you sit down to write, make sure there are no distractions. There is nothing more detrimental to your productivity than external distractions so make sure there are no kids, no cell phone, and no Facebook or Twitter. Close the door to your space. Put your headphones on if you need to. Your space should be a sanctuary that allows you to focus on nothing but writing. Set a goal for your writing sessions. For example, your goal might be to write 300 words. Or 500 words. Or it might be to edit what you wrote the day before then to write 300 words. Maybe it’s to solve a plot problem or a character problem. Note: some writers don’t like to set word counts and that a better measure of their productivity is the quality of their output that day. This is a perfectly valid goal for your writing session. Don’t compare yourself to others. Understand that exceptional writing is a craft and develops over time, practice, and an insane amount of patience. It isn’t something you can master in a week or after writing one book.

It is possible to train yourself to be ready to write as soon as you sit down at your desk and complete your pre-writing rituals. The important thing is that you stick to your writing schedule, whether it’s one day a week or every day of the week.

When you write, you bare your heart and your soul and make yourself vulnerable. You open yourself up to criticism. More than that, you invite it. If you want to be a writer, you must be prepared to face negative criticism.

You must be prepared to face other peoples’ opinions. If you’re not prepared for this, that’s okay. You might simply like to write for own enjoyment.

Part of becoming a creative writer is developing a writer’s mindset.

When you first embark upon your writing journey, it might be difficult for you to say, “I am a writer”. Honestly, it might be a long time before you are ready to do so.

On the other hand, you might be comfortable telling yourself this in the privacy of your own home, but are you comfortable describing yourself as a writer to other people? Can you say it in public?

Your friends and family might have scoffed when you told them you wanted to be a writer. Or maybe you haven’t told them at all because you fear the way they might react. That’s understandable. At the beginning of your career, you won’t have anything to show and you won’t have any details when people ask those inevitable questions.

What are those inevitable questions? It’s usually always some variation of 1) what do you write? and 2) what have you written?

This can be confronting if you’re not prepared for it. And some questioners can be brutal in their probing of your experience.

Being a writer isn’t just about putting words on a page. It’s about developing a mindset—the mindset of being a writer. Practice saying it. Practice saying to yourself, “I am a writer.” The more you say it, the more real it will become for you, and the more impetus you will have to actually sit down and write.

Some people have the confidence to announce their calling in public, and that’s great. But not everyone has the confidence to do that. If you know you’re not prepared to deal with the inevitable questions, it might be best to avoid outing yourself in public—at least until you have something to show for it.

Then when you do have something to show for all your hard work, a published short story or novel, then go for it. Announce your vocation to the world and wear the appellation with pride.

Where to start

Writing exercises are a great way of flexing your writing muscles. If you’ve never written creatively, or haven’t written for a while, your creative writing muscle might need a little strengthening.

And when you’ve been writing for a long time, there’s always a danger of falling into repetitive patterns. That’s where writing exercises can help.

Writing exercises can serve several useful purposes including:

To hone a particular skill (e.g., description, dialogue, or character development) In preparation for writing something larger (i.e., a project, story, or scene) Flexibility and daily upkeep Bring a sense of freshness to your work by practicing new techniques and styles Because they’re fun.

Here’s a brief list of writing exercises you might like to try:

Writing prompts: these can be anything from a concept, a theme, a picture, or a random sentence. There are dozens (if not hundreds) of websites that provide writing prompts. There are also writing prompt books if you prefer hardcopy. Journaling: journaling is a very popular method of maintaining your creative writing muscle. There are no rules to journaling, no right or wrong way to do it and for many of us, writing down our thoughts about our own lives can be cathartic. It can also help you to see and analyse writing blocks or other writing challenges. Haiku: who doesn’t love haiku? Traditional haiku is a three-line beautiful descriptive form of Japanese poetry that follows a 5-7-5 syllable pattern, and which is intended to be read aloud in one breath. Side-step: this is when you take a little side-step with a current work in progress. For example, you might write a couple of paragraphs in a different point of view, or your might try a different style to describe setting, or you might interview one of your characters. Essentially, it’s a bit of a deep dive into a story element that you may or may not end up using in your work in progress. Free writing: this exercise is a great way to ‘free your mind’. Simply grab a pen and paper, set your alarm for ten minutes, then just write. It doesn’t matter what you write, and don’t worry about spelling or punctuation or theme. Don’t censor yourself in any way. It’s like pulling the cork out of a bottle… Just sit down and let the words flow out.

,,CLICK HERE TO LEARN HOW TO WRITE HAIKU

For many authors, writing is a lifelong pursuit where a daily life of pain, struggle, and rejection is punctuated by brief moments of joy and success.

There was a period in Charles Bukowski’s life where he didn’t write for ten years. And engraved on his gravestone are the words “Don’t try”. Watch the video below to find out why.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eMTDAHK-tkE

In this post we talk about: Why you want to write Becoming a writer How you might start on your writing journey

Pablo Picasso was one of the world’s greatest artists and his quote about learning the rules before breaking them applies to authors just as much as it does to visual artists. The universe of fiction writing is vast; however, it also follows rules and laws that are not dissimilar to those rules and laws that we take for granted in the physical universe around us. Knowing something about these rules and laws will make your entrée into the world of fiction writing easier, more knowledgeable, and less stressful than it would be if you were ‘winging it’.

Why do you want to write?

When George Orwell wrote about why he writes, he said, "from the very start my literary ambitions were mixed up with the feeling of being isolated and undervalued". And it's a sentiment that I share.

He also said he wanted to wanted to "write enormous naturalistic novels with unhappy endings, full of detailed descriptions and arresting smiles, and also full of purple passages in which words were used partly for the sake of their own sound".

I wanted that, too. So much so, that trauma fiction is the focus of my PhD research studies.

Anthropologists tell us that storytelling is fundamental to human existence and that it’s an activity common to every human culture on earth. More so, it’s an interdependent exchange of information (which we learned to navigate in infancy) between the storyteller and the listener.

Stories help us to make sense of the world we live in, and to share our experience and understanding of that world with our fellow human beings. They help us to know that wherever we are and whatever our experience of the world we are not alone.

Stories are structured around, and are built on, recognisable patterns, and it’s in those patterns where we find value and meaning. Stories and storytelling are important because it’s the way humans have evolved to learn. Stories invite connection. They invite us into other peoples’ lives and minds. They introduce us to problems and show us potential solutions.

Stories elevate us above all other life forms on this planet. Stories educate us and entertain us. We need them. And we need the people who tell them.

Whether you’ve ever written creatively before or not, you should be asking yourself why you want to write. Why do you want to make up stories? Why do you want to pursue writing as a form of communication and self-expression, whether that’s on an amateur level or professional level? Why do you feel the need to make up stories when there's surely there’s enough drama going on in your real life?

It might be one of the most important questions you will ever ask yourself. But why is it that important? I’ll tell you why—because writing is hard and there will be days when no one, not even yourself, will believe you can do it.

Maybe you’re passionate about writing romance stories or zombie horror stories, but before you put pen to page, there’s a few important questions you should ask yourself:

Who am I to write this story? Who will read my story? Is there room for one more romance/zombie/outback thriller in the marketplace?

As a creative writing teacher, I’ve asked hundreds of students to write about the exact same topic and every single one of them has viewed it and approached it differently. So, no matter what the topic, or how many times authors have written about it in the past, your book will be different simply because your perspective will be different. No one else will write a book the way that you will write it.

However, no matter where you are in your writing career, novice, apprentice, or journeyman, it’s unlikely that everyone you know is going to be supportive of your writing efforts. Maybe you’ve started dozens of projects but never finished any of them. Maybe your friends and family indulge you but secretly wonder if you're wasting your time. Maybe you’ve wondered if you’re worthy of being a writer or if you’re simply wasting your time.

So, why do you want to write? Don’t worry, you don't have to have all the answers right now. If you won’t know why you want to write, that’s okay, the answer will come as you explore the craft. And when it does, your work will take on new meaning and possibility.

Here is a list of possible answers (which is by no means exhaustive):

You want to write for others. You've learned something and want to share the experience. You want to write for yourself. It's cathartic. It relieves stress. You can pour your heart out onto the page and no one will judge you for it. You want to write for fun. That's great, writing is fun. You'll definitely learn something new about the world, and maybe even something new about yourself. You want to write for art's sake. That's great. Creative writing is art. Art is beautiful. And beauty can even be found in ugliness. You want to write to express your grief. Pain and sorrow need to be expressed. They need somewhere to go. Writing gives us a chance to give our pain voice enough to heal. You want to write so you can make money. Fantastic. However, remember that it will take time to build your career as a writer. Many writers work as freelancers which means that paid work can be inconsistent. It's not impossible to make money, but don't count on getting rich overnight. You want to write because you're looking for a new hobby. You wrote some stuff a few years ago and it was pretty good, so you thought you'd give it another try.Becoming a writer

I’m a writer.

I am a writer.

I am a writer.

I am a writer.

Regardless of where you put the emphasis in this sentence, can you say it? Can you call yourself a writer? Do you call yourself a writer?

As well as fiction authors, those who write professionally are bloggers, journalists, non-fiction writers, tender writers, speech writers, technical writers, ghost writers, screenwriters, lyricists, and copywriters. Essentially, anyone who engages in the process of writing, whether that writing has been published or not, is technically a writer.

So, how is this different to being an author? Technically, an author is someone whose work has been published. However, in addition to producing published work, writers who develop original ideas and content for their written work are also considered to be authors. For example, people who write academic papers and blog articles are authors.

Professional writers have a routine that they stick to habitually. They have to stick to it; they’ve got deadlines to meet and bills to pay so they have to get to work—whether their muse has shown up or not.

Some find they write best in the morning, some write best at night, some read the news or their horoscope before getting to work, and some like to write haiku as a warm-up. Some writers can only find time on the weekend, or a couple of nights during the week.

Many writers say they don’t have time to write regularly and so they just write snippets here and there. If this works for you, that’s fine; however, the reality is that working this way makes it difficult to achieve your goal, or to finish anything.

Consider your dedication to the craft of writing and how important it is to achieve your goals. If you’re passionate about completing a great short story (or even a novel), then you must adopt the mindset of making time to write rather than snatching time here and there. To become a productive writer and to actually finish your projects, you need consistency and routine.

Whatever your situation, try and develop a routine that fits your lifestyle, and stick to it. Here’s a list of tips for establishing your writing routine:

Work on one project at a time. It’s hard enough trying to finish one project let alone multiple projects. Create a dedicated writing space. This might be a full office in your home, or it could be a corner in the kitchen or a bedroom, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s comfortable and that you’re able to go there and escape the outside world in order to enter your fictional world. When you sit down to write, make sure there are no distractions. There is nothing more detrimental to your productivity than external distractions so make sure there are no kids, no cell phone, and no Facebook or Twitter. Close the door to your space. Put your headphones on if you need to. Your space should be a sanctuary that allows you to focus on nothing but writing. Set a goal for your writing sessions. For example, your goal might be to write 300 words. Or 500 words. Or it might be to edit what you wrote the day before then to write 300 words. Maybe it’s to solve a plot problem or a character problem. Note: some writers don’t like to set word counts and that a better measure of their productivity is the quality of their output that day. This is a perfectly valid goal for your writing session. Don’t compare yourself to others. Understand that exceptional writing is a craft and develops over time, practice, and an insane amount of patience. It isn’t something you can master in a week or after writing one book.

It is possible to train yourself to be ready to write as soon as you sit down at your desk and complete your pre-writing rituals. The important thing is that you stick to your writing schedule, whether it’s one day a week or every day of the week.

When you write, you bare your heart and your soul and make yourself vulnerable. You open yourself up to criticism. More than that, you invite it. If you want to be a writer, you must be prepared to face negative criticism.

You must be prepared to face other peoples’ opinions. If you’re not prepared for this, that’s okay. You might simply like to write for own enjoyment.

Part of becoming a creative writer is developing a writer’s mindset.

When you first embark upon your writing journey, it might be difficult for you to say, “I am a writer”. Honestly, it might be a long time before you are ready to do so.

On the other hand, you might be comfortable telling yourself this in the privacy of your own home, but are you comfortable describing yourself as a writer to other people? Can you say it in public?

Your friends and family might have scoffed when you told them you wanted to be a writer. Or maybe you haven’t told them at all because you fear the way they might react. That’s understandable. At the beginning of your career, you won’t have anything to show and you won’t have any details when people ask those inevitable questions.

What are those inevitable questions? It’s usually always some variation of 1) what do you write? and 2) what have you written?

This can be confronting if you’re not prepared for it. And some questioners can be brutal in their probing of your experience.

Being a writer isn’t just about putting words on a page. It’s about developing a mindset—the mindset of being a writer. Practice saying it. Practice saying to yourself, “I am a writer.” The more you say it, the more real it will become for you, and the more impetus you will have to actually sit down and write.

Some people have the confidence to announce their calling in public, and that’s great. But not everyone has the confidence to do that. If you know you’re not prepared to deal with the inevitable questions, it might be best to avoid outing yourself in public—at least until you have something to show for it.

Then when you do have something to show for all your hard work, a published short story or novel, then go for it. Announce your vocation to the world and wear the appellation with pride.

Where to start

Writing exercises are a great way of flexing your writing muscles. If you’ve never written creatively, or haven’t written for a while, your creative writing muscle might need a little strengthening.

And when you’ve been writing for a long time, there’s always a danger of falling into repetitive patterns. That’s where writing exercises can help.

Writing exercises can serve several useful purposes including:

To hone a particular skill (e.g., description, dialogue, or character development) In preparation for writing something larger (i.e., a project, story, or scene) Flexibility and daily upkeep Bring a sense of freshness to your work by practicing new techniques and styles Because they’re fun.

Here’s a brief list of writing exercises you might like to try:

Writing prompts: these can be anything from a concept, a theme, a picture, or a random sentence. There are dozens (if not hundreds) of websites that provide writing prompts. There are also writing prompt books if you prefer hardcopy. Journaling: journaling is a very popular method of maintaining your creative writing muscle. There are no rules to journaling, no right or wrong way to do it and for many of us, writing down our thoughts about our own lives can be cathartic. It can also help you to see and analyse writing blocks or other writing challenges. Haiku: who doesn’t love haiku? Traditional haiku is a three-line beautiful descriptive form of Japanese poetry that follows a 5-7-5 syllable pattern, and which is intended to be read aloud in one breath. Side-step: this is when you take a little side-step with a current work in progress. For example, you might write a couple of paragraphs in a different point of view, or your might try a different style to describe setting, or you might interview one of your characters. Essentially, it’s a bit of a deep dive into a story element that you may or may not end up using in your work in progress. Free writing: this exercise is a great way to ‘free your mind’. Simply grab a pen and paper, set your alarm for ten minutes, then just write. It doesn’t matter what you write, and don’t worry about spelling or punctuation or theme. Don’t censor yourself in any way. It’s like pulling the cork out of a bottle… Just sit down and let the words flow out.

,,CLICK HERE TO LEARN HOW TO WRITE HAIKU

For many authors, writing is a lifelong pursuit where a daily life of pain, struggle, and rejection is punctuated by brief moments of joy and success.

There was a period in Charles Bukowski’s life where he didn’t write for ten years. And engraved on his gravestone are the words “Don’t try”. Watch the video below to find out why.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eMTDAHK-tkE

In this post we talk about: Being creative What creativity is Creativity as an inherent trait The creative process What it means to be creative

Renowned psychologist Professor Jordan Peterson argues that not everyone is creative and that to insist they are, is to devalue the meaning of what it actually means to be creative. Having been ‘cursed by creativity’ all my life, I decided to take a closer look at what being creative actually means…

Being a creative

A little while ago I was doing some research for my PhD when I came across the Slavoj Zizek and Jordan Peterson debate, which was held at the Cambridge Union Society in 2018. They discussed many topics including political correctness, identity politics and, or course, Marxism and capitalism. Billed as the debate of Critical analysis of the debate of the century, it was, by all accounts, a bit of a let down with neither man apparently rising to the challenge of their intellectual capacity. However, this debate did lead me down a bit of a Jordan Peterson rabbit hole. When I say rabbit hole, I mean I watched a few more videos in which he is featured. I still know relatively nothing about him. I have not read any of his journal articles, research papers, or books. Despite this, I was intrigued by one video in which he discussed the curse of creativity and what it is like to exist as a creative human being. But before I take a deeper look at this video, let’s just take a cursory look at what creativity is and why it matters to us as human beings.

What is creativity?

The simple definition of creativity is: the use of imagination or original ideas to create something new; inventiveness.[1] However, no matter where you search for a definition it generally refers to creativity in an artistic sense. Creativity is defined by researchers as a deliberate and identifiable process in which a unique and utilitarian product is created.

Opportunities for creative expression are not equally available or distributed in society. Society commonly discriminates against certain groups that might otherwise produce creative practitioners. Adding to that is the fact that historically, western societies have been ambivalent about, or even opposed to, identifying and nurturing creative talent[2], which is totally ironic now that ‘creative’ has hit the top ten list of soft skills required by modern employers. Creativity has become one of the most important assets people can have in the fast and ever-changing 21st century.

In his extensive research on creativity, psychologist Professor James C. Kaufman developed the 4C Model of Creativity. In this model, he proposed that the ‘Little C’ of creativity measures ‘everyday’ creativity, i.e., whipping up a dinner without a recipe. Next comes the ‘Mini C’ where you are deliberately creative, i.e., making up a story or sewing a new dress. Next is ‘Pro C’ where you use your creativity to earn a living. And finally, there’s the ‘Big C’ or eminent creativity. This is reserved for people of legendary status, those who have made a lasting impression on their specific field of creativity.

So, does that mean we’re all creative? That is possible for all of us to reach the level of Pro C? Or better yet, Big C?

Baby, we were born this way. Weren’t we?

Around 40,00 years ago Homo sapiens began decorating the walls of their east European caves with pictographs of Ice Age animals as well as making shell bead necklaces and inventing tools made of stone or bone, which led to the ‘innovative’ thought process that characterises our species today. This kind of creativity didn’t emerge all of a sudden; rather, this ability to create developed as various natural and biological factors merged and developed over thousands of years. Interestingly, new evidence, uncovered over the past decade, suggests that our ability to formulate new ideas evolved much earlier than previously thought; however, our capacity for creativity smouldered for millennia before catching fire amongst the populations in Africa and Europe. The spectacular cave art of the Upper Paleolithic period clearly indicates the presence of people who thought as we do. More importantly, archaeologists have long viewed the use of symbols as the single most important indicator of modern human cognition, in large part because it attests to a capacity for language—a uniquely human trait.[3]

In the past creativity was typically associated with people who were engaged in various artistic fields of endeavour. These days, the meaning of creativity is much more diverse and universal and can be applied to people in every industry on the planet as by definition creativity is about using your imagination to create something new in the world.

So, are we all born creative or not?

Peterson argued that creativity isn’t necessarily all that it’s cracked up to be and that the reason there are non-creative people is because creative people often died. Creative people do risky things and attract attention from people who would rather they weren’t creative risk takers who attracted attention. Creative people are revolutionary. And tyrants don’t like revolutionaries because they almost always reveal truths that tyrants would prefer remained hidden. While this is so true, and so relevant, Peterson’s most eye-opening revelation was how challenging it is for creative people to ‘monetise’ their creativity. He observed that artists have “hell of a time surviving” and that creativity is a “double-edged” blessing.

These days, Peterson observed, non-creative people are being increasingly replaced by machines because anything that requires creativity can’t really be turned into an algorithm (which raises questions about art and literature that is being created by AI (artificial intelligence), but that’s a topic for another post) and so the demand for creative people in the corporate world is increasing; However, despite this demand it’s difficult for the corporate world to support creative people because ‘systems’ do not nurture creativity. They are the antithesis of creativity.

And here’s the crux of Peterson’s argument. We often hear people say that everyone is creative. Peterson disagrees. Believes it’s wrong, just as wrong as saying everyone is an extrovert. He argues that being creative means you have to be smart otherwise, remembering that the definition of creativity includes the ability for innovation, you will just arrive at what other people have already arrived at. You also have to have the capacity for divergent thinking, which is an inherent trait. They are “highly motivated to do creative things, to experience novelty, and to chase down aesthetic experiences, to visit museums and art galleries, to enjoy poetry, to enjoy unconventional music, etc. These aren’t trivial differences. And so, it’s a real misstatement to make the proposition that everyone is creative.” He likens this labelling to suggesting that everyone is intelligent and that doing devalues the meaning of what it means to be intelligent. If you can apply the term or label to everyone, it no longer has any meaning. Therefore, Peterson argues, creative people really are different to non-creative people.

For centuries the Buddhists used creativity tests (known as koans) to select gifted and talented candidates for training. The ancient Chinese and Japanese people identified their geniuses by asking them to create poems.[4]

Despite Peterson’s argument, some researchers believe that creativity is not a gift that has been bestowed upon a lucky few and that it is possible to unearth the creativity we had as a child, revitalise the creativity that was somehow buried or forgotten as we grew into adulthood and the requirement of falling in line with society’s demands. Yet other researchers believe that creativity is something that can be taught and/or learned.

The creative process

How many times have you heard a story about someone coming up with a brilliant idea while standing in the shower? More than once, I’m sure. However, it’s a cliché that is rooted in more than just anecdotal accounts.

Creative discoveries are often the result of a process beginning with thinking about a problem and how that problem might solved followed by a period of time in which you stop thinking about the problem. The actual lightbulb, problem solving moment comes after that period of not thinking about it, and often when you are doing something mundane like standing at the kitchen sink doing the dishes or standing in the shower washing your hair, or in that moment between sleeping and waking from a dream. It’s in that non-thinking stage, which is considered to be the incubation stage, where the magic happens, and our unconscious mind gets to work on the problem ‘behind the scenes’.[5]

So, what does all of this mean?

As an author it’s no longer enough to just write. The old adage of ‘build it and they will come’ or in our case ‘write it and they will read’ simply no longer applies. The reality is that these days authors are responsible for a large part of their own promotion. You can apply all of your creativity to writing the book, but the reality is you then have to get someone interested in reading it or will simply sit on a shelf or lie in a box gathering dust. When you’ve finished writing your manuscript, you’ll need to have it edited and/or proofread. You’ll also need to have a website and a social media presence that has followers who are not just family and friends. Then, when your book is finally published, you’ll need to promote, promote, promote.

And this is the point Peterson is making when he says that monetising creativity is virtually impossible.

The average income derived from practicing as an author in Australia is $12,900 per year[6]—if you’re lucky. Nine times out of ten, authors need additional sources of income to survive. Very few authors can afford to be in it for the money.

As a child I was never good at anything other than creative/artistic things. And while I have been employed in ‘regular’ jobs all my life, these regular jobs have, at times, almost killed me. And I don’t mean that flippantly. Many of those jobs were soul crushing enough to make me contemplate the nature of my existence and the ultimate purpose of my relatively short life here on Earth. So, when I heard Jordan Peterson speaking about what it means to be a creative person, I understood what he was saying. Completely.

Peterson likened creative people to fruit trees that are constantly bearing fruit. And just as a fruit tree cannot prevent itself from bearing fruit, neither can creative people prevent themselves from being creative. He said that if creative people can’t create, they are miserable. More than that, without that vitality they will literally wither on the vine and die. They have no choice but to create—despite whatever attempts society might make to suppress this need within them.

And so, creatives are cursed with living in that space between needing to create and needing to eat.

It’s a state of being that many people do not understand.

But it’s not all bad! There are definitely some positives to being creative. It affords you experiences that other people might not have. It pushes you to explores things that others might not be game enough to explore. And best of all, you get to create things! Which is the point of being creative! It doesn’t matter how many people see it or watch it or read the thing that you create—just being able to create it is the reward itself.

Peterson says, “don’t be thinking that creativity is something you would want to curse yourself with.” Creativity is a curse, but it is also a blessing. Creating things is what creative people live for. And if you’re anything like me, you will live for that blessing.

[1] https://www.lexico.com/definition/cre...[2] https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/1...[3] https://www.scientificamerican.com/ar...[4] Donna Y. Ford & J. John Harris III, The Elusive Definition of Creativity[5] ttps://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/....[6] https://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/...

I don’t know about you, but 2021 has been rollercoaster ride with so many ups and downs I’ve got whiplash.

Traditionally when my family and I gather together at Christmas we take some time to reflect on the past year and consider the things we’re grateful for—as well as the things we really could have done without. In that spirit of reflecting, I thought I’d share a few of those things with you today. So, let’s rip off the BandAid and start with the losses...

Losses

My job. Like many people in the wake of COVID-19, I was retrenched from my job. Through no fault of my own, I have now been unceremoniously kicked to the curb by no fewer than three employers since 2016. Apart from looking dismal on the resume, being ‘let go’ doesn’t make me feel all that great as a human being. Like many authors, I need to find work that gives me a steady income, but which still gives me enough time to write and/or study. Sessional teaching work is fantastic for this because it allows me to find a balance between work and creative practice.

However, in the wake of COVID-19, universities shut down courses and retrenched hundreds of staff. Unlike other industries, however, there was no government assistance for retrenched university employees. We were left to fend for ourselves. I’m lucky that I have family to support me, mentally and financially. I know there are plenty of people out there who aren’t so lucky, and my heart truly, truly goes out to them.

My mother. Goodness, it’s hard to write this… But at the same time, I need to write it. In late November, my dear old mamma passed away quickly and unexpectedly. She was kind and generous and was always there for me. She was smart, wickedly funny, and honest to a fault. I could always count on her to tell me the God’s honest truth about a new hair cut or a new outfit. We were very close, and she was always happy and ready to support me, no matter what kind of hare-brained scheme I was working on. It’s hard to believe I’m never going to see her again or talk to her again. She was a good person, so I know that wherever she is now, she’s in a good place.

Gains

My PhD. If you follow me on Instagram, you’ll be well aware that I commenced my research degree at Federation University in June. Completing a PhD has been a long-time dream of mine, but securing a higher degree by research place, at any university, has been challenging, least of all because I was applying to universities when most were shutting down courses and retrenching staff. The odds were against me, that’s for sure, but I persevered and was eventually offered a place at Federation University.

My deal old mother was over the moon. She knew how badly I wanted to achieve this goal and was very excited for me. I am truly grateful to Federation University and the three fantastic supervisors who agreed to supervise my research project.

The Village Views. The Village Views project was conceptualised in the wake of my retrenchment from Victoria University (more about that later…) As a writer, it is literally my job to comment on things that affect us. So, with that in mind, I thought it would be fun to get a group of word slingers together to write about life in lockdown, after all, there’s hardly a person or country on the planet that hasn’t been affected by the pandemic in some way. I approached some of my former students, as well as some writer friends, if they’d like to participate in the project. Thankfully, most of them said yes.

The result of this project is a fantastic E-book and print-on-demand anthology and visual novel of flash fictions about life in lockdown. Some of the stories have been crafted in a realistic style. Others are whimsical or even magical. However, be warned: not all stories have happy endings. The E-book and print-on-demand versions will be available in early to mid January 2022. The visual novel will be available shortly after that.

Social media. There’s an old saying that you may or may not have heard: If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. No problem. A couple of months ago, I got out of the proverbial kitchen that is social media, specifically Facebook (now hilariously rebranded as Meta in line with their planned world domination) for two reasons: 1) collectively, social media platforms are the greatest waste of time that have ever been invented, and 2) they are magnets for trolls and unsavoury types who hide behind anonymity and/or the relative safety of the internet in order to exercise their right to free speech in order to spew their ignorant, hate-filled bile all over others.

Now, some might say that abandoning social media is a dangerous move considering it is the now an expectation when promoting yourself or your work. But I’m no longer interested in investing my time in the digital realm in that way. And I’m certainly not interested in being yet another target for trolls and unsavoury elements. Now, I might be a little hypocritical here, and I own up to that, but I haven’t abandoned all social media platforms. I’ve still got profiles on Instagram (which I had before the Metaverse takeover), as well as LinkedIn, and Goodreads; however, I don’t use any of them very much.

But what have I gained from abandoning social media and has it been worth it? Yes. Resoundingly yes, it has been worth it because what I have gained is my sanity and my self-respect. Social media constantly prodded me to do better, be better. Needless to say, this wasn’t good for my mind, body, or soul, so I closed most of my social media accounts and now live a happier life that is no longer clouded in social media anxiety.

Here’s to a better New Year

I’m going to be honest and say that I’m not going to miss 2021. Despite the gains, I will be looking forward to putting 2021 firmly behind me. With luck, 2022 will offer a sense of much-needed normality.

So, with the holidays rapidly approaching, I’d like to say Happy Holidays and wish you a safe and Happy New Year!

It’s been a while since my last blog post, but I have a very good excuse. No lie, I really do! Read on to find out what I’ve been up to…

PhD

As I mentioned in my last post, I’m now a PhD candidate at Federation University in Ballarat. Given the university sector’s current state of affairs, and the fact that I was made redundant from Victoria University, I am fully aware how lucky I am to have this opportunity.

I commenced full-time study in July. My supervisors are wonderful, and I feel I’ve made a great start. As yet, I haven’t been able to visit the campus (shakes fist: damn you Covid-19!); however, I am enjoying the student experience and am loving the research process.

There are times when I catch myself wishing that I had done it years ago, but all things work out exactly as they should (don’t they?).

So far, my research has taken me down many a philosophical rabbit hole and I have to admit that I’ve succumbed to bouts of imposter syndrome on several occasions. However, my desire to achieve this goal is a powerful driving force and those moments of self-doubt usually don’t last very long, thank goodness!

So, I hear you ask, how is the researching going? I’m glad you asked…

Deafening Silence

Several years ago, I was walking through my local shopping complex, in a hurry, as usual, when a glowing advertisement on one of those free-standing, monolithic-type digital signs placed just inside the entrance caught my eye. The text on the screen listed the number of Australian soldiers who had committed suicide since returning from the conflict in Afghanistan. I stopped in my tracks and stood and stared at it because the number was staggeringly high.

Time slowed and I became aware of the dozens of people walking past me. I also became aware of the fact that I was the only one who had stopped to read it. No one else gave it a second glance. I reasoned this was because they were busy, had other things on their mind, or perhaps had simply become blind to the overwhelming amount of advertising pervading their everyday lives. However, I was deeply saddened when I read how many of our ‘diggers’ had taken their own lives—a number greater than the total number of military personnel who had been killed in the actual conflict.

As I stood there reading these tragic figures, I knew I had to write about it. And I did. I wrote a short story called The Roos are Loose that was published by Dixi Books in Open Wounds, a mini collection of my short stories.

I loved writing The Roos are Loose and was more than happy with the story turned out. However, I knew I had only just touched the surface of a deeply complex, and potentially polarising, narrative. I wanted to know more and needed to write more. So, after I completed work on This is Not a Lie, I knew I wanted Deafening Silence to be my second novel and the focus of my PhD research.

The writing and the research are coming along well. and I can’t wait to share the final product with you in the few years.

The Village Views

Apart from Deafening Silence, I’ve been working on a digital writing project called The Village Views. The Village Views is, in fact, a visual novel about life in lockdown, which sprang to life in the wake of my retrenchment and—no surprise here—the endless cycle of lockdowns that were imposed on the people of the city of Melbourne.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against the government doing it’s best to protect us from a killer disease, but 260 days, give or take a day or two, in lockdown is enough to make anyone go stir crazy! I hadn’t yet commenced my PhD and felt lost without my weekly writing sessions with my students. So, I thought I’d take the opportunity to work on something new.

When I was studying for my master’s degree, I developed a short visual novel called Stained Glass for one of my classes. It was a fun project and I really loved working on a project that had a visual element to it. I wanted to do another visual novel-type project, but something that was a little different. So, I came up the with idea of getting a bunch of writers/creators together to write some flash fiction stories about life in lockdown.

Set in a fictional apartment building, there is a ‘true to life’ element about some of the stories, while others are pure fantasy/fiction. However, all of them make a comment on life in lockdown. What began as a humble little project to fill in a writing void is now in the process of becoming a fully realised project that will eventually be released as a digital visual novel as well as an E-book.

Click this link to learn more about The Village Views.

When one door closes another one opens. I’ve used that phrase twice in the last few weeks and have lived most of my adult life believing it to be true.

I first contemplated the idea of applying for PhD candidacy in 2016. At the time I was working full-time as a content writer for an online education provider while studying for my MA. I loved studying for my MA so much I decided I would apply for PhD candidacy.

A lot has happened since making that decision and it’s been a long hard road to get here, but I’m pleased to say that now, five years later, and with grateful thanks to Federation University, my PhD dream is finally coming true.

And the fact that it is coming true is nothing short of a miracle.

Dire Straits (no, not the band)

There’s no question that Covid-19 has changed everything about our daily lives, from the way we work, entertain ourselves, interact with friends, and the way we study.

Students are forced to attend their classes online resulting in the loss of significant aspects of the learning experience such as full immersion in their learning, collaboration with peers, impromptu discussions with teachers, and simple human interaction. Instead, they are fending off endless distractions at home while worrying about unstable Internet connections and how they’re going to find an answer to that question that is driving them crazy.

After iron ore and coal, education is Australia’s biggest service export. It’s bigger than gas and gold. In 2019, the education sector contributed more than $40 billion to the economy. However, it became far too reliant on international students as its major source of revenue. Now, the sector is paying the price for that reliance.

Unfortunately, due to Covid, the education sector is in deep financial trouble. Our borders have been closed to international students for over a year, which means TAFEs and universities are losing money hand over fist. And what’s the first thing institutions do when they’re in financial trouble? They start looking for ways to cut costs.

Across the country, hundreds of courses are being cut. Arts courses are, of course, bearing the brunt of this hack and slash approach despite the fact that the arts and culture sector employs more than 350,000 people, (more than three times the number in mining and aviation). However, it’s not just arts courses that are being struck from curriculums. Business and STEM courses are also being excised, even courses or subjects that have maintained high enrolment levels.

Job? What job?

As a consequence of these cuts, academics and professional staff are also losing their jobs.

Like so many others who have been forced into unemployment, I was recently made redundant from my teaching position at Victoria University. It didn’t really come as a surprise. I had previously been informed that the course was in ‘teach out’ because it was no longer financially viable. However, sessional staff were assured they would be employed until mid 2022.

Unfortunately, that proved to be an untruth as we were informed three days before the commencement of the semester that our services would no longer be required.

I loved my teaching job at the university. Granted, the curriculum was a little outdated, and the course didn’t quite teach everything I believe new writers should know; however, overall, it was an excellent course and a great entrée into the writing, editing, and publishing industry, and I genuinely enjoyed working with the students as their skills developed and their confidence grew.

What I didn’t love about the job, was the associated administrative work and the many, many hours of unpaid labour that was expected of sessional staff. Many times, those unpaid hours made me question the value of the job, but that’s a subject for another post!

While all of this is dire for staff, it’s equally devastating for students. Many students were already experiencing financial hardship and had been forced to take on part-time or casual work alongside their academic workload. Now, in the wake of Covid-19, many have lost those part-time or casual positions.

According to a study conducted by the University of Sydney, PhD students (of which I am now one) are “bracing themselves for a financial crisis in the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic” and that “45% are expected to be forced to suspend or withdraw from their studies in the next six months owing to lack of funds”.

Does all of this make me nervous? As a newly appointed PhD candidate, you bet it does.

Is it going to stop me from achieving this long-held goal? Absolutely not.

Nothing short of a miracle

At the beginning of my PhD journey, I was employed in a position that was relevant to my ongoing studies and which gave me the time I needed to commit to the undertaking. However, after several unsuccessful submissions to institutions around the country, I began to give up hope of ever finding a place, especially in light of Covid and the education sector’s financial climate.

Then, on the same day that I was informed my services were no longer required by Victoria University, I received an email from Federation University informing me that my PhD application had been approved. (I've been retrenched from three different jobs since 2016. Sigh...)

That old proverb of one door closing and another one opening is truly applicable here. And my sincere thanks must go to Federation University in Ballarat as well as my supervisors. It’s almost too hard to comprehend how fortunate I am to be studying this degree at this time. It is nothing short of a miracle.

To say the start of this latest chapter of my life has been rocky one is an understatement. Along with sudden unemployment I’ve also had to deal with an elderly parent entering the aged care system. Another industry in crisis.

However, as fraught and anxious as it has been, I’m excited. I honestly can’t wait to see where I go from here and what the future will bring.

Some of you already know that my novel This is Not a Lie is about a gay character, who also happens to be a drug addict. Some of you will also know that the story is deeply personal to me and was inspired by real people and events. However, when I began work on this novel, I knew, as a straight, cisgender woman, I was facing two big concerns:

1) I was writing about a character from a minority community

2) Straight people wouldn’t read a book about a gay character.

Concern #2

I’m going to start with concern #2. I know this is odd, but stick with me…

I’m going to admit, straight up, that I was nervous about writing This is Not a Lie. I was nervous because I was a straight woman writing about a gay man. I was doubly nervous because that gay man was also a drug addict.

I can’t deny that I also wondered if straight people would ever read it, and that if, when they realised it was about a gay character, they would then dismiss it in favour of something else. That concern led me to a more general question—do straight people read gay books at all?

Unfortunately, men currently represent only about twenty percent of fiction readers. It seems their preference is for non-fiction, or that they simply don’t read at all. However, it turns out that a lot of straight women read gay fiction, especially M/M romance, which is written by heterosexual women for heterosexual women.

Why do women love these stories? Gay romance writer Heidi Cullinan said, “One of the reasons why more women are ravenous for these books is that they want to read something about gay men that doesn’t involve them suffering from HIV/AIDS, committing suicide, or getting bullied.”

Moving on to Concern #1...

Concern #1

In the course of researching information for a totally unrelated topic, I came across an i-D article (i-D is a digital magazine produced in the UK) that asks if it really matters who writes queer stories. The article is specifically about YA fiction; however, it addresses some interesting concerns about the phenomena of straight people writing gay fiction. The article’s author points out that while it’s wonderful to see an increase in character diversity in YA novels, it’s a fact that these novels are almost exclusively written by straight women.

In May 2018, the up-coming publication of Helene Dunbar’s novel (now published) about a gay teen growing up during the AIDS crisis caused a huge controversy on Twitter with some users sharing impassioned views about “female authors profiting from the ‘trend’ of gay boy books, while actual gay men writing YA are seemingly shuffled to the sidelines.”

In 2015, long before the Twitter storm around Dunbar’s book, a campaign called “Own Voices” began, encouraging the publication of diverse characters written by authors from their own diverse group. YA author Adam Sass argues that “if you’re not a part of an “Own Voices” community, you really need to be asking yourself: Can you write about this? Absolutely. But should you?”

It’s a great point. And it’s a topic that is always hotly debated in the classes that I teach.

My book is based on the idea that society has determined that same sex love and relationships are forbidden. However, it’s not just a gay story. It’s a story about people. It could be set in any time or any place. In fact, one astute reviewer of my book said:

Joel’s tragedy is universal. It could be two women or lovers coming from different ethnic, religious, or economic backgrounds, and it can still bear the yoke of forbidden love. S.C. Farrow does not have to give you a magnified view of gayness to grasp the message.

The concept of forbidden relationships is nothing new. Shakespeare did it back in 1591 (or thereabouts) when he wrote Romeo and Juliet. Now, I’m not arrogant enough to liken myself to the Bard; but we do have something in common. Romeo and Juliet was inspired by the story of real lovers who lived in Verona, Italy in 1303. Likewise, my characters were inspired by real people, two men whom I knew and loved with passion and compassion.

However, this conversation raises the all-important question: have I appropriated their stories for the purpose of exploitation? I’d be a fool to deny that’s exactly what I’ve done. But I feel I have also appropriated their stories for the purpose of advocation. What happened to the two men who were the inspiration for this story was horrific, and my point in writing This is Not a Lie is to add my voice to the chorus of those who are outraged over the unjust laws and decisions that society has made about and for these men.

But this story was not only inspired by those two men. It was also inspired by my own experiences. It is also my story. In that respect, my narrative is a complex three-way of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll.

Back to concern #2

In the i-D article YA author Lev Rosen says that, “When a straight person is telling a gay story, they’re almost always telling that for a straight audience through the ‘straight gaze.”

I can’t argue with that observation. However, I have to wonder if that’s such a bad thing. If straight people are writing about gay characters, it stands to reason that a wider audience is reading about gay characters, and that homosexuality is being embraced by a percentage (even if it is a small percentage) of the mainstream reading community. With luck it will mean that people are no longer looking at gay folk as ‘something other’.

However, there are gay authors who believe that women have no business writing gay male characters whatsoever, or male characters in general, because:

They’re no good at it It’s not okay to write about gay characters if you’re heterosexual Women are invading gay men’s literary territory The characters in M/M romances are not representative of real gay men (because the men in hetero romance stories are!) M/M romances (written by and for heterosexual women) are undermining opportunities for real ‘gay fiction’.

It’s natural for people in minority groups (gay, disabled, indigenous, ethnic, religious, women, etc.) to want to protect their realities from exploitation.

However, it is possible to write about something authentically and compassionately without having first-hand experience of it. Tolstoy was not a woman and did not throw himself under a train, yet he wrote Anna Karenina. Hannah Kent is not Icelandic (though she did spend a year in Iceland as an exchange student), yet she wrote the brilliant Burial Rites. And Thomas Keneally is neither German nor Jewish, yet he wrote Schindler’s Ark.

I could go on, but you get the point.

What is the point?

The point is not to say, See! If others can do it, I can do it too! The point is to say that if these literary artists hadn't taken a chance on writing about characters or cultures they were not born into, the world would have been deprived not only of their brilliant stories, but the opportunity to learn and reflect on our own lives and our place amongst our fellow human beings.

I consider myself to be a postmodern humanist, if such a thing is possible. I believe that knowledge and value systems are socially conditioned and are framed as products of political, historical, and cultural discourses. However, I also believe in the potential and agency of people as individuals as well as members of society.

As an author, I am aware that words have power, and when I write I adhere to the primary rule to ‘do no harm’.

I believe that minority groups should tell their own stories. And I believe that authors from outside minority groups should be able to write about them too, as long as respect is paid, and no unchallenged harm is done.

I don’t think I need to tell you how much I love my job.

Wait, not my job, my work. I love my work.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a job that I enjoy very much. I appreciate that I am very lucky to have a job that I like, and which is totally related to my work. But they’re not the same thing.

I have a job at a university. I teach creative writing to students who are either looking to improve their writing skills in order to enter or re-enter the workforce, or who are hoping to break into the writing and publishing industry. I truly enjoy working with my students. I love sharing the knowledge I’ve gained throughout my twenty-year long career in order to help them achieve their goals. And I am genuinely filled with pride when I see them making progress.

You know you're a writer when not writing is as torturous as writing.

However, I won’t lie to you. I have a job because it’s a reasonably steady pay cheque (only reasonably steady because I’m a sessional teacher), and as we all know, if you work in any arts related field it’s almost impossible to make a living from your art alone. My work, on the other hand, is what I LOVE.

Like most artists, I am compelled to create. Despite the trials, errors, risks (emotional, financial, and reputational), failures, and successes, the desire to create is more than just a desire. It’s a compulsion.

In my entire life, I have never been any different.

Deafening S ilence

So, now that This is Not a Lie is out there in the marketplace, it’s time to move on to my next project.

If you know me, you know that I don’t write narratives for their marketing value or their potential to sell. Instead, and possibly to my detriment, I write about things that have, or have had, some kind of emotional impact on me.

Several years ago, I was walking through my local shopping complex, in a hurry, as usual, when a glowing advertisement on one of those free-standing, monolithic-type digital signs placed just inside the entrance caught my eye. The text on the screen listed the number of Australian soldiers who had died by suicide since returning from the conflict in Afghanistan.

I stopped in my tracks and stared at it because the number was staggeringly high. Time slowed and I became aware of the dozens of people walking past me. I also became aware of the fact that I was the only one who had stopped to read it. No one else gave it a second glance. I reasoned this was because they were busy, they had other things on their mind, and perhaps they had simply become blind to the overwhelming amount of advertising that pervaded their everyday lives.

However, I was deeply saddened when I read how many of our ‘diggers’ had taken their own lives—a number greater than the total number of soldiers who were killed in the actual conflict.

I knew little of war, soldiers, or veterans. War and its repercussions weren’t things that I, or anyone in my immediate family, had experienced. Neither was I a fan of war stories or war movies, even though I’d seen some great war movies. The only thing I knew about war or returned soldiers was that my ex-father-in-law, young and overly keen, signed up at seventeen to go and fight with the allies in World War II. I remember the photo of him sitting on the body of a dead German soldier as he chowed down on a handful of Australian Army rations during a lull in the fighting.

My father-in-law rarely spoke of his time overseas fighting German troops in places like Syria and Lebanon. However, I’ll never forget the words of my ex-mother-in-law, spoken in quiet conversation, when she told me that the war had changed him, that he wasn’t the man he was before he left Australia. I knew she was talking about ‘shell shock’ but she wouldn’t elaborate.

Even well into his old age, my father-in-law rarely slept, or rarely slept well. He smoked like a chimney and sudden loud noises made him jump. Physically, he came home in one piece, but mentally… Well, the quality of his mental health was the subject of many a family conversation. He never spoke of what he did or what he saw when he was away fighting. However, it was clear that he internalised his experiences and that they weighed heavily on him until the day he died.

Research

I was so moved by what I read on that electronic board in the shopping complex that I felt compelled to write a short story about an Australian veteran who was experiencing PTSD. That story, titled The Roos are Loose, was included in Open Wounds, a collection of my short stories published by Dixi Books in 2019.

When I was writing The Roos Are Loose, I realised it had the potential to be a much bigger story. And so, I kept researching, learning all that I could about Australian veterans dealing with PTSD.

In the years since writing that story, I’ve continued researching and learning more about our veterans. Those experiencing PTSD continue to struggle with getting the help they need, and now allegations of war crimes committee by Australian soldiers have come to light and are being investigated by various branches of the government.

It’s a fascinating time to be working on this story.

So why have I titled this blog post Deafening Silence? Because that's the name of this new project., the title of the new manuscript.

Why am I not going to call it The Roos Are Loose like the short story? Because the short story is a work unto itself. I’m really happy with the way it turned out and so I just want to let that be.

I’m going to start this post by drawing your attention to Leonardo Da Vinci. Leonardo Da Vinci is widely considered to be one of (if not the) most diversely talented people who ever lived. Born a bastard and rumoured to be gay (he was accused of sodomising a male prostitute), he was gifted in multiple scientific and artistic disciplines.

In short, not only was he a scientist, but he was also an artist. He is, in fact, widely considered to be one of the greatest artists of all time. To Da Vinci, art and science went hand-in-hand. One was equally as important as the other.

So, what does Leonardo Da Vinci have to do with COVID-19? Read on…

Lockdown

Barring Turkmenistan, North Korea, and a few other remote or isolated places, there’s hardly a place on the planet that hasn’t been touched by COVID-19.

When it landed in Australia, we, like many other countries around the world, went into lockdown. I live in Melbourne, and in the wake of hundreds of deaths caused by this merciless disease, we experienced some of the harshest lockdown conditions in the world. Granted not as harsh as Chile or Brazil, but still, it was tough going here for a while.

As we closed the country down and shut everyone out, thousands of people lost their jobs, thousands suffered mentally, emotionally, and socially, and the ever-present chasm between the wealthy and the poor got wider.

However, the government acted and actioned support payments for those who suddenly found themselves out of a job. As they should. However, the cost of these support payments comes at the expense of other citizens’ financial stability.

The financial cost

In 2017-2018, the arts and arts related industries contributed $14.7 billion to Australia’s GDP*. That’s not an insignificant amount. Yet, in challenging times, the first thing that is always sacrificed is the arts, all branches of the arts, performing and representational. Looking at the situation objectively, slashing support for arguably non-essential products and services seems logical. However, as a result of this, everyone from venue owners and musicians through to graphic artists and arts teachers suddenly found themselves out of work, or if not out of work, in seriously compromised financial positions.

Additionally, the lack of vision and understanding regarding the importance of art in our lives is staggering.

In modern society, art is everywhere. The buildings we live and work in were created by architects with artistic vision. We wear clothes created by fashion designers. We watch movies and TV shows that have been written by writers, envisioned by directors, and performed by actors, on sets created by set designers. We listen to music composed by musicians. We gaze upon paintings and sculptures created by gifted artists. We eat food made by master chefs.

,“Life without the collective resources of our libraries, museums, theatres and galleries, or without the personal expression of literature, music and art, would be static and sterile – no creative arguments about the past, no diverse and stimulating present and no dreams of the future.” ~ Arts Council England (2014)

Throughout history, art has been created and celebrated alongside science. Throughout history, the importance of art on our psychological wellbeing has been recognised and respected.

Art is the expression of what it means to be human.

Yet, in these modern times, art in any form is widely considered to be ‘the easy subject’ in schools and education institutions, insignificant in wider society, and a general waste of one’s time and effort. It is often viewed as the poor cousin of anything STEM or sports related.

The Australian Book Review posted this comment on Facebook on the 29th January, 2021.

,“Thirteen years ago, ABR deplored the paucity of artists—and writers in particular—being nominated in the Australia Day honours. The 2021 Australia Day honours perpetuated this neglect of writers. This reflects the present federal government’s pusillanimous attitude towards literature and the humanities—indeed all the arts, those pesky expressions of individuality, ambiguity, and contrariness. One national honour did stand out though, at the top of the list. Margaret Court—already an AO since 2007—was elevated to the highest tier, Companion of the Order of Australia (AC).”

Leonardo must be rolling over in his grave.

My personal cost

I am one of those people whose employment and financial stability has been impacted as a direct result of the government’s action to shift money away from arts related industries.

I am a sessional teacher. I teach in professional writing and editing courses. As of this year, I’m teaching one unit per semester. From that, I earn barely more than someone who is receiving unemployment benefits.

In truth, this shifting of funds away from arts related courses began long before COVID hit our shores. However, there’s no denying the arrival of COVID drove the coffin nail in deeper and harder into professional writing and editing courses, so much so, that the course I currently teach in was under threat of closing down for good.

In my career as a professional writer, I’ve been blessed with some extraordinary opportunities and experiences. And I love my job as a teacher. I consider the ability to pass on my knowledge and experience to others (of all ages) to be a privilege.

The closure of these courses is not only devastating to people like me but is crushing to people who long to learn the craft of fiction writing.

Back to Leo

The current worldwide health crisis continues to have a devastating affect on much of the world. The rhythm of our lives, the way we work and socialise, has been rocked. However, we should not forget that in times like this, the arts sustain and nourish our minds and our souls.

In times of crisis, the enjoyment of art can be a stabilising experience. When we marvel at a sculpture or a painting, lose ourselves in a piece of music, are enthralled by a play or a ballet, or compelled on a literary journey, we are not only reminded of our ability to create and endure, but we are also reminded of our humanity and our connection to the world and each other.

Leonardo Da Vinci was a one-of-a-kind human being. Very few, if any, of us will rise to that level of genius. However, we can be like him in our appreciation of both art and science.

As human beings we need art in our lives as much as we need science and technology. In a perfect world, one would not be eschewed in favour of the other.

As the world adapts to a new normal, let’s make more time to appreciate, if not create, art that nourishes us, mind, body, and soul.

* APO (Analysis and Policy Observatory):

https://apo.org.au/node/303286#:~:text=The%20creative%20arts%20make%20a,Domestic%20Product%20in%202017%E218.

Long gone are the days where authors could just write their book and let their publisher handle the marketing. Oh, no, nowadays, authors need to be front and centre of the marketing process. These days, authors need to have an online profile. They need to come out of their shell. They need to talk to people. They need to discuss their ideas, their process, their ‘journey’. And worst of all… They need to show their face!

For an introvert or a shy person, this aspect of the writing business is akin to torture.

In Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking, Susan Cain said:

Introverts… “listen more than they talk, think before they speak, and often feel as if they express themselves better in writing than in conversation. They tend to dislike conflict. Many have a horror of small talk but enjoy deep discussions.”

This is me. And I’m shy, which does nothing but compound the introversion.

Talking about myself is difficult. And when I do talk about myself, it’s like a floodgate has been opened. I share too much and have no filter. Uncontrolled words burst out of my mouth in an explosion of embarrassment.

It’s equally hard to post photographs of myself, especially as I get older. The dark circles under my eyes and deep, deep crow’s feet at their edges… It’s not pretty.

And then there’s that guilty feeling whenever I upload a post about my book to Instagram or Facebook. I feel like I’m begging, or worse, exploiting the friendships I’ve built with my followers.

It’s all extraordinarily painful.

So, it’s hard to believe that when my publisher asked me to participate in a joint book launch, I said yes.

My wonderful publisher, Dixi Books, was launching three titles on the same day. As such, they decided to celebrate with a global online book launch. As soon as I said yes, I had to wonder what on earth I was thinking. What on earth had made me say yes?

Well, the answer’s pretty simple really. I’d written a book that I was proud of. I wanted people to learn about it and I wanted people to read it. And the only way that was going to happen was by jumping on board the marketing machine.

Three weeks out from the launch date, we started planning and set an agenda. We talked about technical issues, giveaways, and the importance of keeping things upbeat. And then my anxiety went into overdrive. I knew I’d made a terrible mistake by agreeing to be a part of it. I started having sleepless nights.

The day before the launch, my family and I converged on my eldest son’s house. Everyone arrived to give me moral support. And technical support because I suck at that kind of thing. What can I say, I’d be lost without my kids.

Then the day itself arrived and in a very short time I would be joining authors Joy Norstrom and Mark Tedesco, and Ayse Ozden from Dixi Books, in an event that would be streamed live to the book-loving world.

I was so grateful my family was there with me. And I was fine—right up until the moment we went live. As soon as I realised we were live, my heart started pounding in my chest. I was terrified that I was going to ramble or say something stupid.Then I made a split-second decision. I decided that it didn’t matter if I said something stupid or if I looked like a git, people would either accept me for who I was, or not. It was up to them.

So, I decided I was going to stop worrying and just have a good time.

We had such a good time we went well over the forty minutes we had planned. We each spoke about our book and our writing process. Then we had some fun giving away copies to a few lucky winners. Overall, the event was very well attended, and we had some great interactivity with the audience.

So, now that it’s over, would I do it again?

Yes. I would.

Despite my introversion and shyness, and the fact that I rambled and said stupid things (as I knew I would), I would do it again. We came together in mutual celebration and it was wonderful.

I’m definitely looking forward to the next one.

If you missed it, you can catch the replay here: https://www.facebook.com/dixibooks