In March, in my Just Saying’blog, I talked about doing things the simple way rather than making them overcomplicated. Alongside that, I feel I should also mention the benefits of doing things in small pieces rather than going all-in and struggling to complete something. Cleaning a shelf a day for a week gets the pantry clean. Filing for five minutes a day for a week tidies away a lot of paper. Pulling weeds for ten minutes a day keeps the garden in order. It’s certainly a lot easier to find five or ten minutes a day than an hour or so later in the week.
I got thinking about this because of my husband. Traditionally, he’s been a last-minute kind of guy. Even the way used to speak about getting things done indicated a “why do today what you can put off until tomorrow” sort of attitude. Our daughter, when younger, worked out his code. If he said, “In a minute” he actually meant “some time today but certainly not in the next couple of hours.” If he said, “Soon” that indicated he would tackle the task over the next couple of days. If he mentioned the word “Later” my daughter knew not to wait as this translated to “some time never.”
However, things have changed. He can now quite regularly be found tackling house maintenance and cleaning the cars with a fervour unheralded in days gone by. I commented that he had turned into my father who had the same enthusiasm for getting jobs around the house done. My husband replied that he’d discovered it was much easier to conduct regular maintenance than it was to leave things forever and have the job be twice as big as it should have been.
I’d learned this lesson years ago. As a kid I would sporadically have days where I cleaned my bedroom, trying to sort out the entire mess in one day. Inevitably I would get to the end of the day, have lost enthusiasm and barely be able to find my bed at night for the piles of my possessions littering every square inch of the room. Two extended bouts of chronic fatigue also taught me that it’s not impossible to get things done – I just had to do them in small pieces as energy allowed.
I take the same attitude to story planning. Right now, hubby and I are in the planning phase of a writing project that’s been years in the making. We are making incredibly slow progress – don’t rush out and want to pre-order! – but we are making progress. It’s the Neil Armstrong philosophy of life – one small step for man – or in this case, one small step for whatever project you want to tackle.
As a writer, I’m not a fan of the exclamation mark. It’s overused and often quite unnecessary. But when it comes to describing the evening I attended where Dr. Jane Goodall spoke, even a single exclamation mark somehow doesn’t seem enough.
Her story of going off to live in the middle of nowhere (well, Tanzanian nowhere) to study chimpanzees is remarkable enough. The fact that she had the patience and fortitude to spend countless hours trying to gain their trust is also amazing. Add to this her discovery that chimpanzees fashion and use tools, have distinct personalities and convey emotion and you know you’re in the presence of someone who is beyond remarkable.
But even further than this, she is now 85 years old and currently spends a whopping 300 days on the road. Her message? One of the urgent need to take action against climate change – not by necessarily pressuring the powers that be to wake up and take action but to instead think locally.
She also had some profound things to say about how trying to eradicate poverty is a huge part of this equation. One time, when flying back to Gombe National Park, she looked down and observed how much deforestation had taken place. She realised that poverty in the local people had made them desperate for land to grow crops. She instigated programmes that have helped these local people so that now the forest that had disappeared has been restored.
Her Roots and Shoots programmes that go into schools and communities is pivotal to her local approach. The programme encourages work in three areas just where you are: environmental, conservation and humanitarian. There are thousands of these groups worldwide, including here in New Zealand.
One other element of Dr. Jane’s talk that stood out to me was the way she credited her mother with being instrumental in the way her life had unfolded. Her mother recognised from an early age that Jane’s focus on animals was something special, something to be nurtured. Her support extended so far as to accompany Jane on her first trip into the jungle, camping with her despite the obvious – and quite dangerous – perils of snakes, scorpions and food-raiding baboons.
In this, the 10thanniversary of the release of Mothering Heightsit seems quite fitting to include a story about an inspirational mother who raised an inspirational daughter. Nowhere can this be better seen than in the following extraordinary clip, for which there just aren’t enough exclamation marks in the entire world:
There’s an old story - more fiction than fact - that came out of the 1960s space race. According to legend, NASA realised that astronauts weren’t going to be able to write with pens in space because the lack of gravity means ink doesn’t flow downward as it does on good ol’ terra firma. To circumvent this problem a vast amount of time and tax-payer money was spent developing a special pen, pressurised with nitrogen, that would work in space conditions.
The Russians handed their cosmonauts some pencils.
The story is told as a way of illustrating a good point: sometimes the simple solutions are best.
In fact, pencils are just as troublesome in space as an ordinary pen. Sharpenings pose a safety risk. Pencil wood in a fire hazard. In the end a pen was developed, but by an independent businessman who sold the pen to both NASA and the Soviets. But the illustration still has merit despite being less than accurate. Sometimes a simple solution is much better than a complex one.
One of the main characters in my novel, The Bell Curve, is called Margaret. She’s at the stage of life where she is not free. She has her elderly mother living in a granny flat on the property and still has a teenage son lurking about and being, well, a typical teenage son complete with slovenly ways and equally slovenly attitudes.
Margaret has lost herself and, in a way, has lost her reason. She is no longer able to make logical decisions for logical reasons. She’s stuck by routine and tradition to the point where she’s not managing even the simplest of things – and is making everything so much more complex than it needs to be.
My husband hates her as a character. Her middle-aged, menopausal logic is more than he can comprehend. Many women, on the other hand, tell me that they identify with Margaret in a strong way. They know what it is like to no longer be able to make simple decisions without reference to the way things have always been or to find new ways of getting things done.
Sometimes it’s good to be reminded that there are simple solutions, that life doesn’t have to become unbearable because of our own ways of doing things. After all, life doesn’t have to be rocket surgery!
As many of you know, I am from New Zealand. As many of you will also know, our country had a shocking and unexpected entrance into the world of terrorism two weeks ago, with a white supremacist murdering 50 Muslims at worship and injuring another 50 besides. Per capita, they say that’s the equivalent of 4,000 deaths in a proportionately bigger country like the U.S.A.
I guess that part of living in a country that’s about as far away from the Northern Hemisphere that you can get - where we talk about two degrees of separation and not six - has made us feel safe and secure. The rest of the world has constant risks, but not here. No, here we are safe.
The shock and outrage felt by the majority of the country speaks volumes about us as a people. The outpouring of grief and charitable donations has been incredible. The anger that the perpetrator is a foreign citizen has been significant. The government has already taken steps to legislate a ban against semi-automatic and assault weapons. Questions are being asked about how such a plot was not foiled in the first place – and even more questions are being asked about how we can learn lessons from this awful tragedy so that nothing like it ever happens again.
The fallout is real. We know someone who lost friends. We know someone else who has since been threatened. And the same things are happening around the world all the time. All of which makes me wonder how we gain more tolerance of others when so many think their actions are justified and right.
I like to think that maybe novelists play a very small role in expanding the minds of others to view things through others’ points of view – to show the way in which conflicts and differences can be overcome. It seems like a very small contribution – but then maybe that’s what it takes from all of us – to make a small contribution in whatever corner of the world we live to make our planet a better place.
According to Earthday.org we in the middle of the largest period of species extinction in the last 60 million years. It is estimated that extinction rates are 1,000 x 10,000 times what would normally been seen. Here are just six facts they quote on their website:
These statistics are shocking, appalling even – and it puts the onus on all of us to do everything we can (from composting to recycling to eating less meat) to stem the tide.
But what, you may ask, is the relevance for an author and for you, the book reader?
Well, as you may know, I tutor high school student in English. Our new academic year has recently recommenced in New Zealand and so my students are now back with me for help and support after having the summer off. We start by looking at their assessment schedules for the year so I can get a handle on what internal achievement standards they will be tackling for our NZ qualification programme.
Here’s the interesting thing: every single student has turned up with an assessment schedule considerably easier than in previous years. Deadlines are longer, the achievement standards being tackled are easier – and in one case, the school are no longer going to read a book as part of their Year 12 curriculum. We go to Year 13 in New Zealand so that’s basically a 17-year old student – or probably Grade 11 in US terms.
Giving students longer? Not working their brains so hard? Not reading a book? I find all these trends rather alarming.
I presume this change has come about because the attention spans of students has reduced through the dominance of digital technology. Where books are concerned I wonder whether they are so used to watching and interacting in bite-sized chunks that the idea of a forest of pages in book form is now too much.
It also makes me wonder whether book readers will become an endangered species and go the way of the dinosaur. Perhaps story will become reduced to a visual medium through downloaded content?
Maybe, like the issue of conservation and preservation, the onus is equally on all of us to do everything we can to stem the tide – writing, reading and promoting the wonderful written word. Will you join me?
Last January my post centred around our need as humans for new beginnings and the opportunity New Year presents for just that. However, it occurred to me that such opportunities come along more frequently than we perhaps realise.
Recently, a friend in Canada (fantasy author H. Leighton Dickson) asked on Facebook for people’s impressions of spring for an article she had to write. She kindly asked me to weigh in on the discussion with my Southern Hemisphere perspective on the subject.
We came to the conclusion that apart from the fact that we have spring when the Northern Hemisphere have autumn (or fall, if you will) the sentiments I expressed – those of new beginnings and new life with the worst of winter behind us and the promise of summer to come – are universal feelings whether it’s March or, even September.
The change of seasons brings about a different type of change from that of New Year, and that change depends on the season itself. Summer is often time to get out and about and do things in the natural environment – hiking, swimming, exploring. Autumn sees us trying to make the most of waning days – doing things before winter sets in, getting out as the weather allows. Winter involves hunkering down and working on indoor projects and generally just trying to get through. Spring, as I said earlier, is a time for new beginnings and new life and the prospect of being able to break free from the confines of indoors.
At the moment it is summer in New Zealand and we’ve been trying to make the most of it – getting out and about to enjoy the great outdoors before gearing up for a new work and academic year. We are fortunate to be surrounded by some of the best scenery the world offers.
New beginnings come in all sorts of ways – but will only be useful to us if we are purposeful in using them to our advantage. So, as you enter this new year – and factor in the season – what are you going to do to be intentional and make the most of that new beginning? Will you read more books? Will you write or start some other creative project? Are you wanting to make a more dramatic change?
Whatever goals you set – and whatever the weather – good luck from me!
As I write this post it is Christmas Eve here in New Zealand. The shops have just shut, the presents are wrapped and under the tree and there’s a feeling of anticipation in the air. And because we are in the Southern Hemisphere and it’s summer (or supposed to be – it’s currently raining!) most non-retail businesses close for a couple of weeks while people go away and have a break. It’s a time for relaxation, recreation and rejuvenation.
I’m planning on reading a few books myself, not doing too much in the way of chores and enjoying a few local outings as a way of recharging the old batteries. If the weather co-operates we may do a few bush walks, go to the beach and sample the odd coffee in the cafes that choose to stay open over this time. It all sounds very idyllic – and hopefully it will be! Even the prospect of leisure fills me with gratitude.
And, as the year draws to an end I guess it’s only natural that we all start to contemplate the year that’s been and consider the year that’s to come. For our family 2018 has been a year of transition – and it will be interesting to see what 2019 brings. I already have plenty of commercial writing work booked in as well as a writing seminar to run in March. Experience has taught me that life can be most unexpected, so suffice to say that we will set out and see where 2019 takes us.
I want to take this opportunity to wish all of my readers a fabulous festive season and all the best for the New Year. I hope you also get the chance to relax, unwind and gear up for another year on this amazing, crazy, beautiful and challenging planet – and may some good books come your way to keep you company on the journey.
Genre is a funny thing. It sounds straightforward enough – defined story categories such as romance, science fiction and horror – but it gets a bit more complicated when your book doesn’t neatly dovetail into a standard group.
My novels best fit under the category of women’s contemporary fiction. They aren’t serious enough to be called literary fiction and they aren’t romances either. They are people stories, mostly in a domestic setting – except for The Journey that takes readers on a trip through New Zealand wine country.
Trouble is, many people haven’t heard of women’s contemporary fiction and some even say it’s a category that shouldn’t exist. It does make marketing my books just that little bit more complex but hey, I’m never one to shy away from a challenge.
When it comes to genre, word is that the two most popular categories are crime and romance…and, one supposes, never the twain shall meet! Whether these categories have anything to say about the other “g” word (gender) I don’t know, and I definitely don’t presume to comment.
I recently had a stand at the New Zealand Book Festival and decided that I would conduct some unofficial research as to whether this strong inclination toward these two categories would be evident as I met readers visiting the festival. I made a point of asking everyone who came my way what they liked to read and made a small discovery. The genre mentioned most was indeed crime. No one mentioned romance – could that be because they don’t like to admit it in public? Instead I found that fantasy probably got mentioned almost as often as crime but the big majority of people simply told me they, “liked a bit of everything.”
The NZ Book Festival was a great chance to meet readers face to face. I had some great chats and even had a person or two kind enough to tell me they’d already read and loved my books. And as for my conclusion as I tested the readership landscape? I learned one thing: there are some genuinely lovely readers out there and talking to them is a pleasurable way to spend a day no matter what they like to read!
It’s fair to say that I don’t get nearly as much time to read as I once did. A combination of commercial writing and reading my tutoring students’ books to assist them with their school work means I end up selecting things off a reading pile not of my own choosing.
However, every so often a gap in my schedule opens and I find a chance to read something I’ve had my eye on. Recently I read a little book called The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz – and I am very glad I did.
I don’t usually review books by other authors – it’s a bit like one plumber rating the work of another plumber – but the subject material in The Four Agreements made me pause and think about some of the philosophies it contains.
The book, based on the ancient wisdom of the Toltec people of central Mexico, puts forward the idea that we all operate off our own personal Book of Law that is formed from the agreements we make through what we are taught. Many of these agreements are instilled in us before we are old enough to make an informed choice and are reinforced by either reward or punishment. However, much of what we have in our minds – those ideas, believes, values and opinions we may hold so dear – may neither be true nor be helpful for living a balanced and happy life.
Ruiz extols the virtues of shedding our personal Book of Law and replacing it with just four agreements. These are:
Of course there is slightly more to say about each of these agreements and the philosophy in general, but what struck me is that in the simplicity of these agreements there is much to admire.
We all could do with speaking to ourselves in a kinder way than we do. We would all be a lot happier if we took offense less and stopped worrying so much about what others think. As a fan of knowing the perils of unrealistic expectations, the idea of not making assumptions is sound. And, the fact that your best changes depending on your situation is also quite freeing since we often beat ourselves up for not managing things as well as we used to or as well as we think we should.
All in all, I found The Four Agreements to be most thought-provoking – and definitely worth a read.
Earlier this year I was asked if I would be interested to present a seminar to a local writers’ group. The assigned subject: telling story through writing letters.
Although I haven’t written a whole book using letters, I have used the odd letter in my novels over the years. And to my way of thinking, the medium of letter writing is just that – a vehicle for telling story. So when I was asked, of course I said, “Yes!”
In preparing my seminar I researched about the history of letter writing which, by all accounts, dates back as far as 500 BC with Persian Queen Atossa (daughter of Cyrus the Great) being the first recorded author of a handwritten letter.
I also added in the fact that modern historians have noted that our move away from handwritten letters in favour of email probably means the loss of information that might be of interest to future generations since email is generally not retained on paper. My own correspondence with a good friend in Canada effectively ended in a formal sense when the Internet came along. I have saved all her letters up to this point.
Modern readers are able to peruse the letters of literary greats such as Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte and Oscar Wilde. We can even read letters of more recent greats like John Lennon or J R R Tolkien. These letters provide snippets of the authors’ lives: how they lived, what they thought, what they did.
In the case of Charlotte Bronte, in her correspondence with her childhood friend, Ellen Nussey - captured in voice over in the BBC’s biopic To Walk Invisible - we learn much about Charlotte’s thoughts and particularly her grief over the loss of her sisters.
It seems to me that a whole art form is in danger of being lost. But maybe it doesn’t need to be that way. Maybe it’s time to go retro and return to pen and paper, envelope and post. After all, who knows what treasures this might provide for those in the future?
And if you want to write to me the old fashioned way, feel free!
P O Box 34 209
Coming soon. . .