Well. I am exhausted!
I have just returned from my very first school literary festival and I was ‘literally’ (see what I did there) blown away by the enthusiasm, excitement and energy of the presenters, the organisers, the attendees and the volunteers. It was a huge success and I feel mighty privileged to have been invited. I was in some stellar company and have come away from Somerset College on the Gold Coast with a suitcase full of books to read and so many ideas my head is exploding with rainbow-coloured matter (as opposed to gray matter, you know, get it?).
I had tried to get some under my belt before the festival. And had some success. I read Fleur Ferris’s ‘Black’ while waiting for hours in the airport in Sydney (because I am that worry-wort Aunt Josephine who gets to an airport many, many hours early….just in case). I read it in one sitting and was ‘scared’ WITless. It was such a page-turning thriller. I also just finished Nova Weetman’s ‘Everything is Changed’. It packs a powerful punch to your solar plexus and gives you some tears (tissues essential). Nova and I share a publisher and publicist and we all met up for lunch on Day 1. Beautiful. Lots of laughs and some deep and meaningful conversations were had. And then I went op-shopping with Nova and I found a pair of HARRY POTTER PANTS! WINNER! Literary party pants. Tick.
As a writer who infamously never gets out of bed or her pajamas, this festival gig-thing was growing on me. I was out in the real world talking to real people who read books, some of whom had read/promised to read mine! I found my former Modern History Teacher and English teacher who popped in to my presentations to lend me some very welcome support. I won’t tell you how long ago it was that they taught me…or you would be gob-smacked by how young I look for my age!!!! Hmmmmm.
There was rain on day one and we all got muddy but thanks to things called warm showers at the luxurious Royal Pines Resort (although Benjamin Law had a bath in his room which I found out too late!), I cleaned up my act and so did the weather for the rest of the festival. I met some wonderful students. The girls from Brigidine College were a lovely audience along with the Somerset peeps. First session. First day. And my VERY FIRST SOLO PRESENTATION EVER! EVER!
I was swear-word nervous and just rabbited on about the best thing about being a writer -WRITING IN BED IN YOUR P’J’S OF COURSE … and the worst thing….the countless crushing rejections. But I managed to explain that the more rejections you aim for ….the more successes you’ll get and the better you will become as a writer by submitting and writing and submitting and writing and getting rejected and writing and writing and submitting and …then bingo success! And then writing and submitting and on and on and on. I’m sitting on a six rejections to one success rate after five years of writing and really, I’m pretty happy with that. Because I write a LOT! I once wrote a book in ten days…..I am no J. R. R. Tolkien….I’m no Shakespeare….but I can bang out a book faster than most agents and publishers can read them! Of course then I have to go back and smooth it over and polish it up. I talked about banishing the dreaded ‘writers block’ (man flu for writers) with caffeine and chocolate (in huge quantities). I was asked some thoughtful questions and some randoms like ‘what is my take on pineapple on a pizza?’. I am fine with pineapple just hold the pepperoni because I don’t do meat….that did not go down well….being a vegetarian is apparently ‘lame’. I managed to have a lot of fun talking to them and did not swear once. Not once.
I missed my family…oh who am I kidding. I did not. And I didn’t miss cleaning up after them or making school lunches or cooking gourmet meals. And the reason MOST of all that I did not miss them, was the breakfast buffet by the pool with just the sound of birdsong for company…oh and the hilarious literary gossip over never-ending plates of food and cups of coffee so that there was no need to eat for the rest of the day. And someone made my bed for me! Bonus!
I had old friends come to say hello and pamper me with good food and wine. I saw my parents. Thank-you Dad for being my date to the Prologue Party. and thank-you Mum for the bizarre cookie jar present! The Gold Coast is my home town and she certainly made me feel welcome. I managed to catch some brilliant presentations by some other speakers and I learned so much about the process and the industry from them. Most of all I loved chatting to the students. It was so heartening to see kids fired up about BOOKS!
This was the most fun I’ve had since the Rock n Roll Writer’s Festival this time last year. I could dig a festival sort-of nomadic existence of hotel rooms, buffet breakfasts, stimulating conversations with award-winning writers, illustrators and film makers. (I shared an Uber with Rachel Perkins which had me a little star-struck).
Benjamin Law did the keynote speech at the impressive last-night dinner. A string quartet played. We dined on fine fare and drank champagne and talked books and books and laughed with budding writers, parents and staff from Somerset. It was brilliant. Thanks to all at Somerset. Particularly Desmond and Jack!!!
I came away stimulated to write a novel called THE WRITER’S FESTIVAL. It will be a chick lit tale about three women authors who attend a writer’s festival in a lonely small town in the middle of the red desert of Western Australia. The festival is being organised by a mysterious billionaire and has dashing writers from all over the globe attending ( and a couple of rich and famous John Grisham-types for romantic comedy/spice). None of the local townsfolk are remotely interested in books or literature and are dragged along reluctantly… but find themselves gradually inspired and intrigued by these strange writerly folk. These three lead women’s lives are connected in ways they do not realise. But someone knows. And that someone is at The Writer’s Festival. And they have been invited along for a reason! That’s the premise. It’ll probably be written in a week or three. I won’t be drawing from real writers that I met at Somerset. Or will I?? Nah. Would I do that? Writers NEVER draw fictitious characters from life. Never. Or do they? Mwhahahahaha…..