Sketching "The Gift" - Part Four.

As I approach completion on the draft of my new novel "Gifts Of The Peramangk", I'm finding myself wielding my camera a lot more in an image gathering mission of sorts. It's designed to help me visualize certain scenes and settings in the novel and it brings me closer to the words I am penning on the page. Imagery forms a large conceptual part of the new novel - how imagery can fire the imagination to deliver a musical performance. 


Imagery is no less important in the performance of writing. 


The Orphanage, is where the final scenes of the young Virginia's journey plays out and it is a scene that hints at years of heartache after she is rejected from the Penschey farm. As it stands now, the scene is a small one but it carries a lot of weight in terms of the transitioning of the young Virginia and the old Virginia we follow as a grand mother to Ruby. Virginia is to spend 5 years in The Orphanage, after which she is released as a 21 year old to make her own way in life. As a young Aboriginal woman in 1964 Australia, the prospects for Virginia in a country that doesn't even recognize her as a human being, seem bleak. Added to this is the fact that she has been rendered crippled, which will only add to the difficulty of finding her way. Standing on the steps of the Orphanage, a single suitcase in her hand, Virginia fears for her future by confiding in a young nun who has returned to Virginia, the single most important possession she owns that was taken from her once she entered the Orphanage - her violin.


The actual Orphanage, here in Adelaide, no longer serves in the role that it was originally built for, but it stands as a monument to the many lives that passed through it's doors over a century. Built in the 1890's, the Orphanage was run by a Catholic Order of Nuns known as The Sisters Of Mercy, receiving countless children into their care from many varied backgrounds up until 1975.


Walking around the building as I did a couple of weeks ago, I reflected on the experiences of those children and, knowing some of what they experienced through my research, I found myself both moved and ashamed.

The buildings of The Orphanage definitely carry an aura about them. They are very tall, dark and carry with them a sense of foreboding, which is what I sought to translate into the novel. Standing before them, one feels very small. For a young child of 15 or 16, the effect of these buildings  would surely be frightening in the immediate term and depressing damaging in the longer term.

I updated elsewhere this past weekend that I have about four chapters left to write and I will have a completed draft manuscript. Once I have it bedded down, the editing process will begin. I've actually started the process already and have had some wonderful help from a couple of people whose advice has been exquisite.

In the meantime, I apologize in advance if posts become a little sporadic around here. My focus needs to be on the manuscript and getting the novel ready for release. But feel free to poke me if you need a little more DFA conversation.

DFA.

The Saddle

Well...here I am.

I'm sitting under the pergola, looking out across my back lawn which looks bloody beautiful right now (I mowed it yesterday, so it looks like a bowling green). I'm listening to CBC Radio One out of Vancouver as I write this - they are talking about the future of the internet. What can I say - I'm a global citizen.

The half cup of coffee before me is cold, but I can't be arsed getting up and making myself another yet. By the way, I feel like death warmed up right now (or is that cooled down?) I dunno. I feel like I have the flu - but I think it's more the case that my accumulated stress has caught up with me. In the lead up to Christmas I was working so hard, then I suddenly stopped - had a week off - and 'hit the wall'. I ache all over, I feel as though I've taken some serious punches to my kidney and my right eye is swollen closed. Some kind of infection, though I have no idea what sort. But you don't want to hear about that.

The week away on Kangaroo Island was great. It gave me a chance to rest and relax. Although I think I added about 20 pounds to my ample bosom (???). There was so much food!!! And that was just the food that we disn't catch. My daughter began walking for the first time and I was able to enjoy daily walks down to the lagoon to watch the pelicans. Okay - well she rode on my shoulders for most of those walks - but she is walking. It was my best Christmas present this year. My son and I had tonnes of fun boogey boarding and swimming in the sea.

 A place to write. 

And I made some serious inroads on my new project. I reviewed my progress just this morning and I've hit 20k words. I was surprised because I didn't think I had achieved such a word count. Being able to work on the Island, away from the noise and rush of the City, was so productive and therapeutic. The attached picture shows you the view I had whilst tapping away on my Tablet (oh yeah - btw - I have crossed to the dark side, and it is wonderful). I have already passed some significant milestones that I wanted to achieve and that has been particularly satisfying. I am getting a handle on the feel of story, the environment and the characters. And I have made some discoveries that were influenced by the characters themselves which is really great - it is an indication that they are taking on a life of their own.

So now I'm back. I'm feeling nervous. In the week before Christmas my work as an agency Nurse dried up really suddenly and it caught me unaware, to be honest. Normally, things do quiet down over the holiday period, but for those of us who work night duty - we are usually unaffected. Not so this year. I was getting cancelled for almost every shift I was booked for. I was able to get enough work to bolster my savings for the holiday I had planned but it was a really close call. Now, I'm waiting to see what happens this week. For an agency nurse, when things are good, they are really good but when the command comes down from on high to cut staff - we are the first to get cut. I work for an agency because I crave control over my working life. I want to be around for my family and I have no desire to be enslavened to a rostering system that is often dysfunctional. And of course there is an additional financial incentive to doing agency that cannot be ignored. Mostly, I do it for my children. I get to be around for them. Waiting for the phone call that says you've been cancelled...again...gets old, really quickly.

Hopefully it won't last too much longer. I want to be back in the saddle.

Anyway...

How are you? Did you have a good Christmas? A good holiday? Did you see the new year in happily - with good friends and loved ones?

I hope you did.

DFA.

(sent from my Galaxy Tablet) :)

Sketching "The Gift" - Part One.

This past weekend I took my family up to the city for a family day at the Art Gallery of South Australia where we took in an exhibition called "Desert Country" which featured some stunning examples of Aboriginal Australian artwork that simply has to be seen to be believed. We also stopped by the Museum and wandered around the bio-diversity exhibit which features a wonderful collection of South Australian wildlife displays and interactive companions which kept our four year old boy in particular, thoroughly fascinating for a good couple of hours. My 1 year old daughter was similarly fascinated by it all and she spent the bulk of the time just pointing at everything and saying "Da" to everything. It was really great.

While we were there, I took the opportunity to wander up North Terrace a little further and conduct a reconnaissance, if you will, of the University precinct. Specifically, I was interested in The Elder Conservatory of Music. It is here that some of the critical events of my new novel take place and I wanted to get a pictorial study of the grounds as well as the conservatory building itself. I wanted to get a feel for the place - what it feels like to be there - and I wanted also to scope out possible locations for where certain events will take place.

Elder Hall, the centerpiece of the Elder Conservatory of Music in Adelaide.

As one of Australia’s oldest and most distinguished tertiary music schools, the Elder Conservatorium plays a leading role in the country’s musical landscape.  Its origins can be traced back to the foundation of the Adelaide College of Music in 1883. The Conservatorium has close links with other educational and professional bodies within South Australia and across the nation, maintaining strong connections also with important institutions in the UK, USA, Canada, Asia and Europe.  Graduates hold positions of national and international influence as performers, composers, educators, scholars and administrators.

The lawn in front of Elder Hall is a beautiful place to just sit and take in all the loveliness of the University precinct.

Bonython Hall, a grand building that sits on the eastern flank of Elder Hall.

Already, as a result of the photos I have taken, I am refining and thinking about certain scenes which take place that are critical plot points in the novel - where my central protagonist, 8 year old Ruby Crammond, an undiscovered violin virtuoso, is discovered in quite an unusual way. I have chosen the place where Ruby hides herself away and listens to the weekly rehearsal of a prominent Adelaide string quartet, playing the battered violin that had once belonged to her grandmother and dreaming of a life away from her situation of abject poverty.

A window just like any other, but it is a portal to a world away from the one Ruby Crammond resides in now. 

The rock in the foreground sits just a little way from the window in the previous picture. Perhaps the perfect little hiding place for an undiscovered virtuoso.

I get a lot of satisfaction out of this process. It allows my mind to think about the story and it helps me to develop the story, the specifics of the story. I've tweeted this past week that I've been stuck in somewhat of a rut. I think that it's partly exhaustion because of the time of year - what with Christmas coming up, the prospect of a well earned holiday on the horizon and also because I have been working hard on promoting "The Hambledown Dream".  When I have sat down to write, I have kinda locked up and have been unable to put anything much of value down on paper. So, to be able to get out there and immerse myself in the very environments that I hope to portray in this new novel, is an invaluable thing to do. 

I imagine that I won't get much pure writing accomplished in the next few weeks. Which is not to say that I won't be doing anything book related. I'll be doing a lot of brainstorming and developing instead - and allowing myself to actually enjoy Christmas.


Which is not something, I normally do.


But I have two kids now, for whom the magic of Christmas is an all consuming thing, so my steadfast cynicism towards the season is taking a severe battering.

Anyway, I have a renewed enthusiasm for a lot of things lately. I am hoping that all of these will bare fruit as I continue on this crazy journey that has come to define who I am - an author.

Conversing with giants. Ruby will come to regard this fellow as a kind of imaginary friend.

DFA.

 

On The Consideration Of Melancholy.

I'm in a funk right now.

For the past few weeks I have been trying, without much success to get Project Ruby off the ground but to date I haven't put more than about 500 words together. It's pathetic really. I have tonnes of notes, ideas that I have written down in my red leather journal, sketches of characters I wish to populate this new novel with...but I can't seem to make it happen. And it's getting me down - really down.

This past month, my life has been complicated by external factors. I have been under a lot of stress. My daughter has been ill, as I have recounted in previous posts, but she took a turn for the worse a few weeks ago when a boil that had emerged on her inner thigh became infected, then she became septic. In what seemed like an instant, she was in the hospital and all of a sudden both myself and my serioso found ourselves on that "other side" that we nurses often talk about but rarely experience...until we experience it.

My daughter's leg became inflamed with cellulitis, the boil became an abscess and she required days of IV antibiotics in order to knock over the infection before she was taken to OR to have the abscess drained. In a word, she was a sick little chooky and it was several weeks - actually only in recent days, that she is back to something like her lopsided little self once again. She has a scar on her leg now. A mark that will stay with her for life. It's a small price to pay to know that she's alright but still...

Anyway...the whole experience has knocked any creative spark out of me. Not only do I find myself worrying for my children, I worry about providing for them. Money has been somewhat tight lately and that has weighed down on me too. Although I recently cleared some pretty big debts, which has lightened the load somewhat.

I feel under an intense pressure to produce a second work. I get asked all the time 'So when are you going to write a follow up?' It's beginning to become an annoying question. I just respond by saying that 'I'm putting some notes together'. And the thing that gets me the most is that the question is usually asked by people who haven't taken the time to read my first book yet. Please excuse my language here but it fucking shits me. Don't even get me started on the whole lack of support thing...that could get ugly.

I did a ring around the other day, of the stores that are carrying my book on consignment right now. Most of them are reporting back with sales of one's and two's and are happy to keep the remaining copies on the shelves for me for the remainder of this year to give them a chance to move. But I received a rather nasty jolt from one store yesterday when I made my usual check up. They reported that they had only sold one copy and wanted me to come get the remaining ones "because your book is taking up precious shelf space that we need for better titles". 

Suffice to say, my silent response to that was...actually...no, I won't say it here. You get the idea.

So that's messed with my confidence as well, made it all the more harder for me to get some momentum to begin writing this second book in earnest. 

I'm starting to ask myself whether I've gone as far as I can go to sell "Hambledown". I mean it's been 9 months now, since it was first released in digital format, 7 months since it went to print. The fact is, I have a marketing budget of absolutely nothing. I can't afford to take out ad space in the newspaper, or put something on commercial radio. The online stuff has been good but, I fear that is getting to the end of it's useful life now too. 

But there's one other thing that really bothers me...

There's some individuals in my closest circle whose support for the novel I really hoped for - who have been ambivalent about it at best and, frankly, hostile towards it at worst. And you know...it hurts...it really hurts. I've deliberately avoided being pushy about it with them. Have not pushed them to read it. But it's like, whenever something comes up about the book - like an interview with a radio station or some sort of positive feedback I've received, I've been blown out of the water with an ambivalence bomb.

The most hurtful thing I've been told, just recently actually, was this:

"Isn't it time you just got over yourself about this book?"

What does one say to that? How do you respond to that...especially when it comes from someone whose support you'd hope for the most.

All of this contributes to the sense of barren-ness I feel towards the project I'm trying to get off the ground now.

I'm starting to wonder if it's all worth it anymore...

DFA.

The Red Leather Journal.

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders are advised to use caution viewing this article, as it may contain images or descriptions of deceased persons.

Last year, my serioso gave me a beautiful red, leather bound journal for Fathers Day.

It's a satchel kind of journal which opens like a wallet and has a strap that you wrap around the cover to secure it between use. It's a beautiful thing, it has a gorgeous smell and the paper inside is just so luxurious to write on. The paper itself is lined but it's embossed rather than lined in the traditional way, which adds a layer of hob-nobbiness to it that I just love. I only ever use a lead pencil with it. I cannot bare the thought of soiling the pages with ink from a ball point. That, to me, seems so wrong. Whenever I use it, I only use a Derwent artist's pencil from a set of gray lead pencils I own that I bought years ago. And I allow no-one - absolutely no-one to write in it other than me...

Is that a little screwy?

I began using it when I was half way through writing The Hambledown Dream. Prior to receiving it, I was making notes in a much smaller Moleskine notebook which I handled in much the same way. I wished I had made more notes in it about Hambledown but whatchyagonnado? It would have been nice but there's enough in there to remind me of the journey I undertook in writing Hambledown. I'm a sucker for reminiscing. 

My Lantern Studios Red Leather Journal.

In the past week I have filled about a dozen pages with copious (already) notes and scribblings, ideas and character sketches for Project Ruby. And I am encouraged by the picture that is beginning to emerge. Already I have mapped out a significant portion of the eventual story and I have given life to several core characters that I intend to go forward with. I have accompanied that with a healthy amount of research into material that I hope to use to add body to the story. Already I have amassed some good material on the violin and it's history - which I feel is important for me to know so that I can talk about it in the story with some measure of authenticity. 

 Australian of the Year (1990) Professor Lowitja O'Donoghue. I have drawn inspiration for the character of Ginnie from this remarkable woman.

The Stolen Generations which will have a part to play in the history of one particular character who I have named Ginnie (short for Virginia). She is a grandmother, an Aboriginal woman with a tragic past and a life of struggle which she has largely kept from her grandchildren. Ruby - the central character in this story is the eleven year old grandchild of Ginnie - an undiscovered virtuoso whose natural gift with the violin will drive the story. She won't be named Ruby in the final product - the reason being is that Ruby is the name of a famous Aboriginal Australian named Ruby Hunter who died very recently.

Australian actress, Everlyn Sampi as she appears in "Rabbit Proof Fence" This is my Ruby.

There is a cultural practice amongst Aboriginal Australians that the name of a recently deceased figure should not be mentioned in the presence of others - hence the warning at the beginning of this post. I actually like the name in and of itself but even I - as an outsider - don't feel comfortable in retaining it for that very cultural reason. I am finding out a lot about the deeper workings of the Aboriginal culture as it pertains to things like this. It's invaluable if only it directs me towards a more truthful representation of the people in the story. 

I have also given life to another character - a cousin who lives with Ruby and her grandmother Ginnie. His name is Jeremy - a fifteen year old who leads a troubled life, colored by petty crime and a struggle with his own identity. He walks a destructive path but his brotherly love for Ruby may well be his saving grace. 

I've chosen to set the novel in Adelaide, Australia - where I live. Adelaide presents a couple of advantages for me in that it has a vibrant arts and music culture in which I will be able to place a number of crucial scenes and settings and being that it's town where I live, being able to give a more detailed narrative about the places and people in which my characters interact will give a deeper sense of authenticity to the story I hope to write. 


My checklist of things to do in the next little while is to visit the Elder Conservatory of Music here in Adelaide to get a feel for this particular location as it has a significant role to play in the story. I also want to take a train journey from a northern suburbs train station to the Adelaide Central Railway Station. Ruby travels to the City on a suburban train on her clandestine trips to listen to a String Quartet practice - this point is significant in the development of how Ruby's gift is discovered. Although I don't intend doing this myself, I need to know how someone would successfully evade a train fare in order to travel from Adelaide's northern suburbs to the metro station. Given that Ruby's poverty prevents her from being able to purchase a ticket for the train, she resorts to fare evasion in order to be able to listen and practice in the shadows of the austere grounds of the Conservatory. 


This checklist will grow as I get further into the development of the story no doubt. And my red leather bound journal will swell with pieces of paper, photocopies and printouts and reams of scribbled notes jotted down with a well worn HB pencil.


DFA.

Project Ruby Begins...

It's time.

I can't sit idle anymore...well not idle...when I have been doing all that I can to promote "The Hambledown Dream". But there are only so many hours in the day that I can devote to the marketing of the book (I work mainly beyond business hours where most of the population doesn't) so I am finding myself with time that I can invest in something new.

Therefore - Project Ruby begins.

A story about a young indigenous Australian girl living in abject poverty in the housing commission ghettos of Adelaide in Australia. "Ruby" is about ten years old, she lives with her grandmother, her aunt and three cousins in a rundown house in an area stricken by crime, poverty and a sense of hopelessness. 

But "Ruby" is special - she has a gift. Ruby can play the violin. And not only can she play it well but "Ruby" can play it beautifully. She has been taught by her grandmother "Ginnie" who herself can play but she is old now, frail and blind. "Ginnie" has her own story - a heart breaking journey through the back drop of the stolen generation. Her story will be revealed as her granddaughter's journey unfolds. 

"Ruby's" special gift is about to be discovered, two worlds will collide and it will see Ruby presented with an opportunity to escape her meager existence for a life that her grandmother wished for but could never attain.

I have begun to brain storm ideas and flesh out a number of characters who will populate this story - an idea that I have had in mind for about a year or so. I have begun to research the stolen generation and the white Australia policy which is regarded as one of Australia's most shameful chapters in it's history. Though this strand of the story will be subtle - I need to ensure that I have enough knowledge and understanding of the history in order to portray it with sensitivity. I am taking a risk with this - some would argue that I have no right in telling this story because I am not an indigenous Australian. But I would argue that I have every right to tell it - simply because it could be any person's story. I am drawn to the Aboriginal culture and/or the loss of it through the disastrous policies of the past. "Project Ruby" will break the stereotypes and be a story of hope.

It's really early days and I don't know what lies ahead. This may be successful or it may fall apart. But as I did before, I will keep you posted as to how this new story unfolds.

DFA.