One of my darlings I had to kill

William Faulkner wrote, “In writing you must kill your darlings.”

So what does that actually mean? It means that piece of perfect prose or amazing analogy you have spent weeks agonizing over, the one that elevates your work to a new level but doesn’t fit with the story you are telling, must go.

It can be hard to say goodbye, but if you want to write with clarity and strength, rather than meander through a series of prettily written passages that take the reader nowhere, kill your darlings you must.

I recently had to do it in my manuscript. I had discovered an image that not only drew comparisons between my childhood story and a weapon of war, but that also hit me on a visceral level as a true representation of how the disintegration of my family felt. It was a shining beacon of perfection. But there was a problem.

This glowing passage, by its very nature, had to be written in an adult voice. And my story is written from my child perspective. So, though I loved it, still think it is a brilliant analogy, you will only find echoes of it in my book. And I am okay with that, because though I love clever writing, I love story more.

That doesn’t mean, however, that no one will ever see the analogy. You can see it right here, right now. How lucky are you! So here it is, the darling I had to kill.

***

When a bomb goes off, it causes damage in different ways – rupturing, tearing and piercing.

Firstly, the blast forces highly compressed air particles to travel faster than the speed of sound, rupturing air-filled structures like the lung, ear, and gut.

Then, more intense energy in the form of shockwaves passes through the organs and tissues, disrupting molecules and tearing at internal structures.

Moving into secondary fragmentation, the bomb casing and shrapnel is thrown violently outward piercing soft flesh and releasing more dangerous fragments when it strikes buildings and glass.

Finally, when the vacuum created by the rapid outward movement of the blast refills itself with the surrounding atmosphere, it creates a high-intensity wind that causes people, buildings and fragmented objects to be drawn back in toward the source of the explosion.

I didn’t know it yet, but Dad’s leaving had thrown a bomb into our family. In a few short days, our lives would be blown apart. I was about to spend the next six years sifting through wreckage…

I reassured myself that tomorrow Mum would be back to her old self, standing at the stove cooking chops and veges for dinner…

It turned out, I was very wrong. The highly compressed air had already blasted from the bomb. The concrete structure of rules and schedules that had defined my life with Dad was razed to the ground, and the mother I had always known was never coming back.

***

So there it is. My darling does live after all. Have you killed any darlings lately?

Stop comparing. Be kind to your writing self

When I decided to try my hand at writing a book I did what I normally do when embarking on a journey into the unknown: I researched. 

I read books on story structure, creative writing and memoir. Armed with all of this helpful information, I began the task of getting words down onto a page.

  

Once I was a ways into my manuscript, I listened to podcasts like this one and this one, and wrapped my head around the difference between plotters and pantsers, the merits of a crappy first draft and how best to utilize beta readers.

When I was nearing a stage of being ready to show my work to someone, I poured over blog posts on author platforms, the publishing process and pitching.

In the past few years have managed to write and edit a manuscript, get an agent, find a publisher, and am now on the cusp of launching my first book. Some might say that is a reasonable effort.

But during my on-line research, I read (continue to read!) many accounts of authors finishing their first book, starting immediately on their next, and continuing a cycle of churning out books at a dizzying pace. One book a year. Often two. Some people hammering them out in a few short months! I wanted to be one of those authors.

For most of my life I have pushed myself hard. Take no prisoners. Cut no slack. I am a doer who gets things done. In my work as a copywriter, I am the queen of quick turnaround. I gain great satisfaction from beating deadlines and exceeding expectations.

I planned for it to be the same with writing books. But I hadn’t counted on the way delving into my emotional world could sap my drive.

In all my years of writing copy for brochures, websites, and business plans, I can’t say I have ever shed a tear. The same cannot be said of writing a memoir covering such light-weight terrain as my deepest childhood wounds and the trauma of war. (There are funny, happy bits as well – promise!)

Still, despite the fact that some days I felt so drained I could barely put one foot in front of the other, I tried to stick to my guns. I was determined to have the first draft of my next book, a young adult fiction, completed by the time Enemy hit the shelves.

With that goal set, as soon as my memoir manuscript was with my editor, I started in. I began churning out words and managed to get about a quarter of the way into the draft. Then the edits came back, and I had to rake back over that old ground. Each time I re-worked a section I re-lived the experience on which it was based, feeling those old feelings so I could distil them into the purest emotional truth I knew.

By this time, I had started to feel tired. Deep down to my bones tired.

But I have never been one to let the mundane fact that I am human stop me from pushing myself like a machine. So when I finished that next editing process, I jumped straight back to my other manuscript.

But I could feel my blood running thin, like my foot was on the accelerator but there was nothing in the tank. Finally, after finding myself wide awake night after night with stress pulsing in my gut, and hacking up a lung each day for three months from a cold I couldn’t shake, I began to question what the hell I was trying to prove. And to whom.

I think part of my motivation was fear. I felt so lucky to have had a book accepted for publication that I wanted to prove – to myself, to my agent, to my publishers – that their faith in me was not misplaced. Another reason I wanted it done was because I had heard that writing a second book was harder than writing a first, and I wanted to see if I could do it. There was also the fact that before someone suggested I should give fiction a go, it had never occurred to me. And I was really excited by the idea.    

But though I still think about my YA book all the time, I have had to face up to the fact that I am not going to be one of those quick turnaround authors. My first book is hitting the shelves in three days time, and my second manuscript is not finished. And you know what, I am okay with that. More than okay.

I am a first-time author. I am still figuring out what my writing process actually is. So I am taking the pressure off. I am not going to fall into the comparison trap. I am practicing being kind to myself, instead of always expecting more.

Besides, I have written a book. An actual factual book that people can buy from bookshops. That is a peak life experience right there. I need to spend the next few months mooning about the place with a big smile on my face, letting the wonderful delightfulness of it all sink in.

Then, once my feet touch the ground again, I am going to get back into my YA. Not to prove anything to the imaginary critics in my head. But because the guy in it is so hot. And my lead character is so funny. And I need to figure out what happens between her and her mother. And what goes down between her Mum and her aunt…

Now that I have had a taste of writing books, I am hooked. I want to do it for a long time. That means protecting myself against burnout, and choosing the carrot over the stick. No more comparisons. Just me with a laptop having fun with my imaginary friends.

Each person's creative process is as unique as the work they produce. How do you approach your writing?

How to narrow the focus of your memoir

One of the main issues I have found with memoir writing is not lack of material, but rather too much. Each day has moments worthy of notice and attention. If you add a lifetime of days together, that is a ridiculously overwhelming volume of material to work with.

Another problem is, that although there are moments from your life that are incredibly important to you on an individual level, they may not be at all important to your memoir on a story level. So how do you narrow your focus?

I heard a piece of advice (from a podcast I listened to years ago and I can no longer find- doh!) that helped me enormously in this process. The wise person said that she saw memoir as a piece of non-fiction writing where you are making an argument for something, and your life story is merely an illustration of the point you are trying to make. The example she gave was that someone could write a memoir making the argument, ‘Life is better when you share it with a cat.’ You would then go on to draw examples from your own life that demonstrated this.

I love the way this concept stops your memoir merely being about you as an individual and broadens it into something larger and richer. When I took her idea and applied it to my own book, it took me months of driving myself bananas to come up with something that I thought really captured what I was trying to communicate. I decided the ‘argument’ of my book was: ‘If we don’t look after veterans, it is not just them, but their families, who pay the price.’

This was a very effective way to separate out the stories that needed to be included in my book from the ones that didn’t. That’s not to say it was easy. Some of the stories I left on the curb were favourites of mine. ‘Killing your darlings’ takes on a whole new meaning when the story you are abandoning is very personal and intensely meaningful… but it is necessary.

A memoir is not a journal. It is something you are writing for an audience. If you can’t make tough decisions about what belongs and what doesn’t, you will never create the clarity necessary to transform a bunch of stories into a book.

What about you? What techniques have you found helpful to help narrow the focus of your memoir?

A few memoirs to get you started

If you are new to memoirs and looking for a few recommendations, these books are well worth a look.

If you like witty hilarity and outrageous extremes, read 'Running with Scissors' and 'Dry' by Augusten Burroughs. His writing is amazing as well.

Like a beverage or two? I do not mind a drink myself, and I am now desperate to go out drinking and hanging on every word Judith Lucy says after reading 'The Lucy Family Alphabet'. To be fair I have wanted to go out drinking with Judith Lucy ever since I first saw her comedy…

One of my favourite books from childhood, 'The Story of my Life' by Helen Keller, stands the test of time. An amazing piece of writing, and an insight into living in the world as a deaf and blind person.

'Angela’s Ashes' by Frank McCourt plunges you into the wet misery of extreme poverty in Ireland. Set amongst a backdrop of Catholic guilt, and told with wonderful lyricism and humour, it was one of the books that changed the way we now think of memoir. Read this if you love a good tale, well told.

If you want to run away and live in an abandoned villa in the Tuscan countryside (yes please!), read 'Under the Tuscan Sun' by Frances Mayes

I was transfixed by A.B. Facey’s, 'A Fortunate Life', when I read it as a teenager in the Rocky High library. Such an open, emotionally vulnerable account of a child’s relationship with his mother, especially given the era. Read this if you want to learn something about Australian history and hardship and how to keep rising above the circumstances you find yourself in.

I was completely captivated by the way James Frey described his rage in 'A Million Little Pieces'.  I don’t care if he made up some of the book, his emotional truth is indisputable.

If you like Amy Poelher, you will love her part memoir/ part manifesto, 'Yes Please', for its wisdom and laugh-out-loud moments.

I wanted to become part of Ahn Do’s family after reading his memoir, 'The Happiest Refugee'. Some of his stories made me snort with laughter, others made me cry. Read this if you love a positive take on life.

If you like the idea of going on a pilgrimage from the comfort of your own home, you will like 'Wild' by Cheryl Strayed. Wonderfully written, it made me want to take off into the bush on my own, though I did spend the entire book thanking my lucky stars that it was she, not me, carrying her ridiculously heavy backpack.

I have always loved Alan Cumming as a performer, but I mostly loved his book 'Not my Father’s Son', as it is one of the few memoirs I have read that covers the terrain of a child’s experience growing up with a violent father, and the way that relationship evolves into adulthood. I related to so many aspects of his life. 

'Too Close to the Falls' by Catherine Gildiner was an absolute pleasure to read. A wonderfully quirky story of a girl who didn't fit the normal mold, but carved a niche for herself regardless. Read this if you love beautiful writing and delightful characters.

Magda Szubanski’s 'Reckoning' is a wonderful memoir. Though Magda is a celebrity, this is not the story of her public life. It is a far deeper and more meaningful search for authentic identity and a quest to understand more about her father, a World War II veteran, all underpinned by a love for her family that was palpable throughout.

I could go on, but these are a few to get you started.

Where do you work when you write?

When I initially decided 2014 was the year I was going to finish my memoir, I went to the office to work (my husband and I are business partners in a graphic design/copywriting studio, Mono Design, where we share space with architects, event managers, film makers and exhibition designers). But after a few weeks, I came to realise that while I can stand constant interruption when I am copywriting, it is not the same for me with creative writing.

When I am inhabiting a scene, tuning into sights and sounds, capturing voices, feeling the way my body is responding to the world I am creating, I don’t want company, or any other version of reality infringing on my headspace. When I am boiling down the essence of what something means to me, I might spend over an hour trying to get a sentence right. I can’t afford to have any other words in my head except my own, otherwise I might miss the click when the world suddenly shifts into alignment and everything sounds exactly the way it is meant to. So I have spent the year working alone at home in blissful silence.

Where do you work when you write?

The Shame Game

I recently read the document Change the Story: a shared framework for the primary prevention of violence against women and their children in Australia.

It states:

Australia has a choice. We can change the story that currently sees a woman murdered every week by a current or former partner…

Violence against women and their children is not an inevitable or intractable social problem…

Although there is no single cause of violence against women and their children, the latest international evidence shows there are certain factors that consistently predict – or drive – higher levels of violence against women. These include beliefs and behaviours reflecting disrespect for women, low support for gender equality and adherence to rigid or stereotypical gender roles, relations and identities…

What this framework makes clear is that gender inequality is the core of the problem and it is the heart of the solution.

Discussing this report with some people at a barbeque the other day, someone floated the idea of shared responsibility. They suggested that if we witness a man inflicting violence against a woman, even if it is their intimate partner, and we do nothing to act, then we have to consider ourselves part of the problem.

In some ways, this seems like a valid idea. I know that when I was a child and people witnessed my father acting violently toward me, I interpreted their not stepping in to mean they thought I deserved to be treated that way. As a reaction to this, throughout my life, I have stepped in on multiple occasions and told men off for acting like arseholes. But I have to admit, in doing so, I think I probably put myself in dangerous situations that I was lucky didn’t turn seriously bad.

Since I have had kids I know there is no way I would be willing to put them at risk in this way. If they were with me, the best I could do would be to call the police. And given how stretched they already are dealing with domestic violence, would that end up being effective?

I also wonder, if I brought to a man’s attention, whilst he was already in the middle of a violent rage, how wrong he was, how badly I was judging his behavior, would that make the situation turn out better for the woman? Might he not be likely to punish her more when he got home? Would I also be in some way responsible for that?

I am a massive fan of Brene Brown’s work. (If you don’t know her, start with her Ted talk The Power of Vulnerability. Seriously mind blowing. https://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability?language=en) One of the things Brene’s work as a shame researcher has revealed, is that shame is highly correlated with violence, aggression and bullying. This is the result of decades of research in the area. So I think it is safe to say that heaping shame on people who are already acting violently is unlikely to achieve the outcome we want.

It breaks my heart to read ‘in Australia, at least one woman a week is killed by a partner or former partner’. It appalls me that ‘intimate partner violence contributes to more death, disability and illness in women aged 15 to 44 than any other preventable risk factor.’

Obviously things need to change. And though I wish we could wave a magic wand and stop the violence now, I know this not going to happen. This situation has been going on for a long time. It makes sense that it will take a long time to effect real change upon it. But since Rosie Batty won the 2015 Australian of the Year, it feels like we are at last owning up to the problem. That is always the first step.

But there is one more thing we can all work toward. If, as Change the Story suggests, inequality is the ‘core of the problem’ and ‘heart of the solution,’ as a society we can work together to make it completely unacceptable to treat women as less than. This means respecting their value on every level, ensuring they have equal rights, equal pay, and access to services that allow them make appropriate decisions for themselves and their children.

Help your book succeed

When it comes to the world of writing, my approach has been to focus on the things I can control. I can’t control whether my book is a best seller or wins literary awards. But I can turn up. Do the work. Finish the book.

(Illustration copyright Matt Clare at Mono Design)

After finishing my manuscript, I couldn’t control whether people were going to respond to my work the way I wanted. But I could take the pitch I wrote seriously and do the very best job I was capable of doing. Part of the way I did that was to build connections via twitter and facebook to demonstrate to publishers my willingness to engage with the wider world. 

Why? Because even with all our technological advances, most people still read books based on recommendations from trusted sources. I wanted to increase the network of people I spoke to, build relationships with them so that maybe, just maybe, some of these people might read my book. And maybe, just maybe, they would like it. And maybe, just maybe, they would tell their friends about it. So that some day people outside my family and friends might actually be willing to read something I had written.

Sure, some authors refuse to engage with twitter, facebook, pinterest, instagram etc. They stay in their writing cave and produce wonderful works. Some of these authors are very successful and they don’t need to do anything more than put words on a page. If you are one of these authors, I salute you. You rock.

If, like the rest of us, you are starting out on your career, you might want to consider getting over yourself. Like it or not, publishing is a business. The business of selling books. If you are lucky enough to get a contract with a publishing house, your book becomes a commodity. Your publishing house will work their butts off to make sure it sells, but your efforts as the author of the work, can make a real difference.

From where I stand (someone whose first book is about to come out) it seems like a very risky move to loiter on the sidelines and hope for the best, praying that you are somehow special; that you will be one of the chosen few who need to make no effort apart from writing a book, for it to be successful.

Before selling this manuscript, I didn’t really understand how the publishing industry worked. I thought when an author got an advance, it was a lump sum payment for the years of toil it took to create a book. I then imagined as soon as the book hit the shelves, an author started earning royalties. 

But that is not how it works. If you are lucky enough to sell your manuscript, the amount they pay for your book is an advance on sales they anticipate your book will achieve. Once book sales have paid back the advance, then you start pocketing extra. Of course this makes perfect sense, but it also means I now feel a genuine responsibility to pay back the money my publishers have invested.

I am lucky enough to be with a big publishing house, and they have put their large marketing team behind the book because they too want to earn their money back. But I need to do something with the anxiety I feel that my book will turn out to be a total failure and everyone will hate it and only ten people will buy it and the lovely people at Penguin will put a black mark next to my name that says, “this author sucks and she stole our money,” or something like that.

The way I am choosing to deal with this anxiety, is if there is something within my power to do – get on twitter, write a facebook post, write an article, think about what I am going to wear to my book launch – I am going to do it.

I am going to go all in on this, because at least then if I fail, I have done so giving it everything I’ve got. I will not walk away saying ‘what if.’ What if I had done more. What if I had tried harder. It seems a bigger risk to me to be half-arse because “real artists don’t promote themselves,” than it does to do the best you can at everything related to your book.

I am not talking about spruking your book on high rotation on your twitter stream. That is totally half-arsed. If you don’t know how to use facebook or twitter, read articles on how to do it. Arm yourself with knowledge to make sure your efforts count. Lots of people have written excellent blog posts on this stuff. Seriously. If you don’t know how to do it, figure it out. It doesn’t cost any money, and you might even come to enjoy it.

Some people think the marketing stuff is below their dignity. I say screw dignity. Help your book succeed. Go all in.