I never dreamed of writing the “Great Australian Novel” or selling enormous amounts of books. I just wanted to tell stories. The world needs them. It always has.
Stories reach people when all the arguments and debates don’t. There can be understanding and connection on an intuitive level. Points can be made without anyone feeling they’re being beaten over the head. And stories stay with us. We may not remember all the detail, but a story we’ve loved will stay in our heart. Who doesn’t hold on to the memory of a book they loved as a child? I can’t remember the details of many of the books I read as an adult. But my early adventures in reading stay with me, with amazing clarity.
Sometimes we revisit the tales that moved us. We know how they made us feel, the realisations they gave us, the way they sparked our imagination. A good story can reach out to people. Unlike other forms of writing that are located in a specific time and place, they can be, in a way, eternal. Enduring.
We are narrative beings.
Something about tales speaks to a spark that lies within all of us. Children who are denied stories are denied a chance for a garden to grown in their soul. Perhaps what we learn through books needs to become more nuanced as we grow to adulthood. The world is not divided into good and evil. But the tales we encounter early on give us a framework to start with.
In fact, we could understand the world better if we questioned the stories that underpin it. Every society has its own narratives. In Western society the enduring story is that everything must be done in service of the economy. We are told this so often we don’t even realise it’s just a story. Nobody questions whether there is another way to conceive the world. What would our society look like if the underpinning narrative, the story we all believed in, was that everything should be done in service of humanity? What if the cultural stories placed living beings at their heart?
Fiction writers use their imagination to create worlds that are underpinned by different stories. They show us other possibilities. We need that now, more than ever. To change the world, we need to see how it can be different. And we need to care. We need our hearts and minds engaged. Stories can do all of that.
Dreams of story telling
This is why I chose at a young age to be a story teller. Not a ‘writer’. I didn’t have visions of sitting in a garret starving while I carved out some masterpiece from blood and suffering. I didn’t picture myself appearing at writers festivals, exchanging words of wisdom for book sales. No – I just wanted to tell stories, because they seemed magical.
I’ve been told I’m naiive for imagining writers can change the world. But all it takes is for one idea to light a spark that grows into a flame, and change can happen. I suppose that belief is why my central character in The Tales of Tarya, Mina, is a story teller who changes her world with her stories. Art and imagination are tools for doing magic in the world.
With the vast experience (!) of eight months as a published author under my belt, here’s my list of things to make life easier for first time authors. Some of these are hard won knowledge and unspoken secrets that I’m going to share.
Celebrate everything!
Crack open the bubbles or chocolate when you get the email or phone call that says someone wants to publish your book. Wow! Then crack them open again when you get the proofs. It’s real. When you get the box of your books in the mail. How exciting is that! And again when publication day arrives. Congratulations, you have joined the ranks of published authors. And don’t forget to celebrate when you get your first five star review. Having a book published is a great achievement. Having readers who love what you do is fantastic. It’s worth celebrating.
Do NOT compare yourself to other published authors
Remember: life online is curated. What you see and what reality is may be two different things. No one shares their terrible reviews, only their great ones. Photos may have a different story behind them than the one you imagine. Here’s my book, cover out, right near George RR Martin and next to Garth Nix. Prime placement and multiple copies – makes it look like a best seller. I had a couple of authors ask me ‘how on earth did you achieve that?’, as though I had hit some magic jackpot. Partly it was luck – since my surname is Nightingale it fits nicely alphabetically. However, the reality is, right after I snapped the picture, I took a bunch of these books home because they were only on the shelf for a writers festival.
The other thing with comparing yourself is that first time authors – unless they are lucky enough to have a great marketing campaign behind them, which is rare – are never going to receive the same attention as authors who have been around for a while. I’ve been told the rule of thumb is it takes five years (or five books, depending who you talk to) to get noticed. So don’t be discouraged. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.
Get war stories and tips before signing up for paid promotions
As a first timer, if you’re lucky enough to have a full marketing department behind you, ignore this bit. However, the expectation tends to be that authors will play an active role in their own marketing. And, much like writers festivals and workshops and masterclasses, there is a whole industry around this, ready to take your hard earned royalties. There are so many possibilities, all promising massive increases in attention and sales. And in my experience, and the experience of others, they don’t necessarily achieve a fraction of what they’re promising. So talk to other authors and find out what has worked for them, but remember, different things will work for different books. Part of this side of things is finding the right audience. Readers of fantasy often tend to be different to readers of contemporary fiction. Choose your marketing approaches with this in mind.
Build community
As a writer, you spend a lot of time on your own, inside your head. Many writers have a natural inclination towards introversion so this isn’t necessarily difficult. But when you become an author, you need to engage with the world, promoting your work. This part can be hard. Writers aren’t natural born marketers. I’ve found this side of things is much easier if you have a community of fellow authors who understand what you’re going through, to share support and advice, and to help you out. I’ve had authors share my tweets, expanding my reach way beyond my followers, and I’ve done my best to share others’ posts as well. Surviving as a newbie author is much easier if others have your back, and if you find ways you can help others as well. It can feel isolating and competitive otherwise. There’s plenty of research to show that helping others is a great way to find emotional equilibrium, even to stave off depression, so finding ways to do this is a great antidote to the frustration of being one amongst many authors who are trying to be noticed.
Finally – don’t forget to keep writing
It is SO easy to get caught up in ‘being an author’, worrying about sales and statistics and promotions and what else you could or should be doing. But that’s not why you went into this in the first place is it? You wanted to tell your stories. I know that’s why I went into it. Being a published author is a long term commitment. It’s not just about the next three months, when your book is shiny and new and you need to jump up and down a lot and go ‘look at me!’ If people like your book (and they will!) they’ll want to read the next one. There are characters waiting for some attention, and worlds waiting to be explored and stories jostling for attention. So don’t get so caught up in being an author that you forget to be a writer. Remind yourself of this on the tough days, and take pleasure in creating when you can.
Today on my blog I have an interview with writer, academic and bellringer Laura E. Goodin. Laura’s exciting adventure fantasies, Mud and Glass and After the Bloodwood Staff, are published by Odyssey Books. Laura’s madcap take on academia, Mud and Glass, has been compared to the writing of Jasper Fforde, and with good reason. As an escapee from the Academy myself, I laughed out loud many times at the hilarity and madcap craziness. But as you will see from Laura’s answers below, her unique, humorous take on the world is only one of her many talents – her answers are deeply moving and insightful.
Which writer or writers opened your eyes to the magic of storytelling and why?
I learned to read unusually early, so I don’t really remember a particular revelatory moment in that regard. My first reading obsession, though, was the Chronicles of Narnia. From 50 years away I can see their flaws (racism, sexism, classism, theological approaches that create more problems than they solve), but at the time they were my gateway into a world where children were capable and strong, and magic and wonder were everywhere, and where I could imagine myself with the kind of daring and skills that I in no way had in real life. I didn’t use the books for escape; quite the contrary: I used them as a model for becoming someone better, more capable, more reliable, more courageous in the real world. Granted, I wasn’t the happiest little misfit in the world, and stories of all kinds did provide a refuge for me. But they also showed this little misfit the possibilities of the human spirit. I saw ways my idiosyncrasies could be strengths, and I became determined to make the most of the person I was and am, rather than trying to be someone who always knows the right thing to wear to a party. (I never really know the right thing to wear to a party. Or anywhere else, for that matter. It’s just my best guess. So if I show up at your house dressed in completely the wrong manner for the occasion, you’ll know it’s because instead of studiously acquiring the rules for attire, I’ve spent my time learning karate and bellringing and fencing, riding horses, cooking elaborate meals, and teaching cool stuff to my students.)
Why do you think people need stories in their lives?
There are as many reasons for that as there are people. Me, I need stories for inspiration and refuge, entertainment and education. I need them because they urge me to fling myself at the world in a great big exuberant embrace, to grapple with it and comfort it and challenge it and heal it. Stories show me truths and help me see what to strive for. They strengthen my soul and increase my capacity for joy and compassion. They help me see the miracles and wonders that await around every corner. They make me more, they make me better, they make me my truest self.
What is your greatest magical power as a writer?
Hm. Do you mean, “What am I best at as a writer?” That might be dialogue. Mine seems to be very easy for the reader to hear as natural speech and get immersed in. I pay a lot of attention to the sounds and rhythms of the words themselves, and I’m a maniac for cutting extraneous words and syllables out; that could have something to do with it. Do you mean, “How do I most effectively capture the attention – indeed, the awareness – of my readers?” I like to think it’s a combination of quirky yet plausible characters, situations of mayhem with always the possibility of a belly laugh somewhere along the way, and SCRUPULOUS – I repeat, SCRUPULOUS – attention to spelling, grammar, and punctuation. This last may be the most important, because well-punctuated, well-spelled words arranged in brilliantly clear ways let the reader relax: they say, “You’re in the hands of an expert, precious reader. You won’t have to stop to cringe at a rookie grammar error or scowl as you try to figure out how to resolve an ambiguity. So breathe, begin, and instantly forget you’re reading.” When readers can lose themselves into a story like that, that’s magic. The magic of grammar, my friends. It gives you power over your readers’ very minds. But you must use your powers for good, never for evil. Promise me!
Which mythic archetype or magical character most resonates with you and why?
I’m finding this incredibly hard to answer. I think the character I most identify with is Cat Chant from Diana Wynne Jones’s Charmed Life. Like Cat, I tend to be hesitant about inconveniencing others, and I spent the early part of my life profoundly unaware, for the most part, of my own powers. Like Cat, I got the shock of my life when I started to realise just how powerful I am. That’s one thing middle age is absolutely great for: you begin to get a sense that you can handle what gets thrown at you, because at some point you’ve already handled some pretty horrible stuff. You become aware of your powers. There’s a reason older women have historically been objects of fear and persecution: we are becoming aware of our powers, and, even more terrifying, we’re using them on purpose! It doesn’t seem to matter that most of us use them to help and heal and drive positive change. We’re masterless and wild, and we might inflict some serious damage. Maybe that’s the archetype I now identify with: wild, raving woman of wisdom and vision and might. (But whenever I reread Charmed Life, I’m back to being Cat.)
What themes or ideas do you find keep arising in your writing?
I keep seeing two main ideas in my writing (and that includes not only my novels, but my plays, poetry, libretti, and short fiction). First, the world is vastly more than we can see in our daily lives: there are hidden meanings and miraculous coincidences and flashes of mystery and power that we sense but cannot often see. Second, in such a world, how can we be anything other than heroic? How can we turn our backs on our own beautiful, mighty selves to be just ordinary, when the world cries out to us? My characters tend to find that whole new layers of meaning and challenge lie behind what they thought was reality, and that this means they’re going to have to be something more than they thought they could ever become. The world is full of wardrobes. (A friend in America had a wardrobe; they’re rare there, because most American houses have closets. “Wow,” I said when I saw it. “Does that lead to Narnia?” She said, “I wish it did. I could use the room.”)
Harlequin’s Riddle is not your typical fantasy. There’s actually not a droplet of magic in it. Mina, the central character, doesn’t learn magic. There is no speaking of spells, hand waving or use of wands anywhere in any of the books. There are some fantastic books out there that use this sort of overt magic. But I went in a different direction. What interests me is thinking about what magic already exists in the world. We forget how incredible life is, taking for granted all the wondrous things that happen every day. This is especially true for people. Their minds are complex, their lives are fascinating and their achievements can be staggering.
I’m particularly interested in creativity, and how that shapes people. Or, as becomes evident in my book, how people use their creative abilities to shape the world. Art, in whatever form, can change the way we think about things. It can take us out of the moment, transporting us so completely that we forget who we are. It can help us to empathise and connect with others, or heal long-held hurts.
About Flow
In my explorations in creativity over the years I’ve noticed a recurring theme, which is that when people do their creative practice, whatever that might be, they go into a different state, or mindset. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, a psychology professor, calls this state ‘flow’. In this state creators become completely absorbed in whatever they are doing. The requirements of the real world (food, ego etc.) fall away in place of a sense of fulfilment. This state can be very productive. Csiszentmihalyi also says the “whole being is involved”.
Flow and Writing
Many writers have had the experience of working on a piece, and having some sort of inexplicable or unusual experience, such as a character ‘coming to life’ and taking control of the story. Or writing about a place they’ve never been to, only to discover when they get there or see photos of it that they’ve described things with an uncanny accuracy. This is what fascinates me about flow – what if it is an opportunity to tap into a different mental state that links you in some way to something bigger than yourself? This was an idea I wanted to play with in my book.
Flow in Tarya
In Harlequin’s Riddle I take this idea of flow as a starting point to the fantastical elements of the story. Rather than a doorway to a different mental state, creativity becomes a literal doorway – to a place called Tarya. It is a place that sits beside the real world. There are spiritual aspects to Tarya, but it is not just a separate realm, like heaven. Events that happen in Tarya can have an effect on the real world. Mina, the central character of the book, discovers she is able to reach Tarya when she tells stories. But more importantly, she is able to bring aspects of her stories into being for her audience.
Writers are endlessly fascinated by the writing process. Sometimes it can definitely feel like it is magic. Having a heroine who can do interesting things with her stories is so much fun as a writer. I’d like to think there’s a little bit of me in Mina – or a little bit of Mina in me. But she may have other ideas…
If you’d like to learn more about Mina’s abilities, sign up to my email list (see the bottom of the page) and I’ll send you a free short story that tells you Mina’s back story.
I wrote a while back about having writer’s block and not realising I did. It’s often hard to see what’s going on when you’re in the middle of it. Things are definitely better now. My first book is coming out in four weeks. A children’s story is going to be in an anthology by Christmas Press. I have appearances lined up at Continuum, the Historical Novel Society of Australasia Conference and the Bendigo Writers Festival. Best of all, I have many ideas for stories.
A year ago I wasn’t feeling so optimistic. I used the word ‘burnout’ a lot. Someone else looking at it might have called it writer’s block. I didn’t feel like writing. The ideas weren’t there. Partly this was probably an inevitable result of completing a PhD – 4 years of stress and pressure leave you feeling pretty drained. Most of my fellow students had some kind of emotional, physical or mental crash at the end of the process.
The other issue, though, was that I felt my stories didn’t matter. In my thesis I had argued for the importance of stories in changing how we see and respond to the world, and particularly climate change. One of my examiners completely ridiculed my ideas. I had also written a young adult novel as part of the PhD. This examiner’s entire response to the novel was ‘this novel is of PhD standard’. That was it. Seventy thousand words, years of my life, went into that manuscript, and all he wrote was one sentence, whilst simultaneously spending page after page ripping apart the arguments in the academic component. I was shattered.
It took me a long time to hit upon the solution. I nearly gave up writing altogether. But in the Princess Bride, when things look darkest, the Spaniard, Inigo Montoya, goes back to the beginning. So I did too. I asked myself why I started writing in the first place. The answer lay in the wonderful books that I’d read in primary school, and the incredible authors who had transported me to other worlds. No matter what some jaded academic said, I knew stories matter. They made a difference to me as a child. So I used the healing power of stories to restore my wonder and to reawaken my creative imagination. I visited old friends, like Susan Cooper‘s Dark is Rising series and everything by Diana Wynne Jones. I made new friends, like Derek Landy’s brilliant Skulduggery Pleasant series.
When you spend a lot of time studying writing and talking with writers, stories can lose their magic. And they shouldn’t. Stories can transform. By approaching stories with the openness and wonder of a new reader, I found a way to heal and restore myself. And stories re-entered my life.