Syphoning the ether

What I really love about writing is, ironically, what comes at the end of it – after the writing, and editing process is completed.  Whether I’ve gained a better understanding of myself, of a relationship, or how this complex world of ours works…I always find writing has many rewards.  Writing makes me think about the world, make sense of it, feel connected to it, sometimes want to distance myself from parts of it. To me, writing can be important and powerful.

     Every week during our Novel 2 class, I marvel at how other students create beautiful, moving pieces of writing, in a short space of time and with little apparent effort.  In stark contrast, I often sit there, pen in hand, staring at the lines on the page, agonising over a single word.  Occasionally the words flow as naturally as water swirling and eddying down a stream.  Occasionally, but not often.  The ideas are there, in my brain, in the ether, but syphoning them into narrative, finding the right words to bring the ideas alive, is another matter entirely. Numbers and the world of finance are my native language, but the last few years I’ve found myself strangely compelled to sit in front of a blank screen and put words onto an electronic page.  Writing regularly has helped improve my “slow starts”, and with a bit of luck that will continue. And now that I am writing regularly, I’ve come to the earth shattering realisation that the solitary (if you don’t count the cat), people-watching, world-observing life of a writer, is one of the few remaining occupations where a person might have the opportunity and inclination to reflect honestly on the human condition. And call me cynical, but my current perspective is that many of us are so busy, like a mouse scurrying relentlessly on the wheel in its cage, that we are often too tired to gain any real perspective on events outside the cage, in the wider world.

Living in, and let’s be honest, being a part of the culture of a time-poor, oil-dependent, consumerist nation on a planet where many governments run to the mantra of economic growth, I can’t help wondering what will happen to our planet if this continues unabated. And this is where writing a novel is appealing.  It allows me to take my observations of the world, put them into a washing machine with a basket-load of characters, dump in some green laundry liquid (safe for lawns, of course) and some scenarios which put my characters into conflict, and see what comes out after the spin cycle.  So here’s the magic – I can put my own ‘spin’ on my story.  Will it be ‘economic growth kills the world’? Or will my main character, in all her wisdom, save it?

The Novel 2 class has been valuable in many ways.  I’ve learned much from my peers, particularly from the process of workshopping each other’s writing.  I’ve learned heaps from Tracey – accuse me of sucking up to the teacher, but it’s the truth!  I’ve gained comfort from the fact that I’m not the only one who procrastines (thank you, Pauline), I can aspire to make the writing process itself more enjoyable, as Sarah finds it; and I’m heartily encouraged by Alice finishing her first draft.  Seeing  an ex-student’s just-published novel in class yesterday (The Whisper of Leaves by K.S. Nikakis, published by Allen & Unwin) , was simply inspirational.  It makes me think this writing game might just be worth pursuing after all.

Eva