Has your writing practice changed over the years? If so, how?
I’ve only been writing for eleven years, and it took me at least four to find my writing voice. What I’ve learnt is that thinking doesn’t really work for me. When I think too much, it sucks the magic out of the words and they arrive dead on the page. So I’ve come to trust the process that works for me, which is sitting down with a clear mind and writing; for me that’s where the joy lives.
Like every writer I know, life has a habit from time to time of really getting in the way. I used to be afraid that if I left my characters alone for too long we would forget each other. Now I trust that if we’re connected in the way we need to be for a story to have the potential for life, it won’t matter how long we’re apart.
I’m also in a couple of writing workshop groups, and I deeply value working with the talented writers in those groups—to read their drafts, and to receive their critical analysis of mine is a real privilege.
I’ve come to trust the process that works for me, which is sitting down with a clear mind and writing; for me that’s where the joy lives.
How do you encourage inspiration to strike?
I don’t experience writer’s block often. There’s almost always a feeling, a line of dialogue, an image jumping out as a break in point. If not, I work on something I haven’t looked at for a while, and dive back into the tricky work later on. If it really isn’t working, I file it in a folder called ‘Words I Like’, which is my way of letting go without ever really letting go.
I’m always inspired by the power of certain writing exercises to breathe new life into words. Most recently I’ve been reminded of this in The Word Cave workshop with Sarah Sentilles, and also in Sally Piper’s Witnessing Landscapes workshop, which Sally very generously offered free of charge to Melbourne writers during our extended COVID lockdown.
Any advice you’ve found particularly helpful (or unhelpful)?
Helpful:
- Killing your darlings is imperative. If you don’t kill them, they’ll kill your stories. Allied to that, be circumspect about where you place your jewels. Too many, too close together and you dilute the ability of any one of them to shine.
- Put away your ‘finished’ manuscript for as long as you can bear—ideally months. Seeing it afterwards with fresh eyes will help you to identify what’s working, but more importantly, what’s not.
- Write like yourself and if you don’t know what that means, keep writing until you work it out.
- Keep turning up to the desk.
- Find the right workshopping group.
Unhelpful:
- You must have a routine—it’s a nice idea, but life doesn’t always land that way and there’s no value in beating yourself up about it.
- You have to write for a particular audience and stick with it—though I can see how this might make the work of marketers easier, I don’t buy into this. I think you should write what works for you.
Smokehouse is available now from your local independent bookseller.
