It has been, at time of writing, less than three weeks since Te Papa Tupu Workshop One. How is that possible? Borne aloft in the whirlwind of those two days, it felt as if months of mātauranga were being imparted. I know I’m not the only one who felt that way.
Yet, coming down from all that, the actual work lies ahead.
I have been collecting my thoughts since then, gearing myself up to get cracking. Here are some of those thoughts, inspired by whakataukī and pūrākau, which I want to share. I hope they will help not only me, but other writers on the programme too, whenever we find ourselves floundering in the middle of a tough revision. Knowing how I and other mentees of the current cohort have been re-reading all the blog entries from previous cohorts for inspiration, I hope to offer this up to the future cohorts too. May my words soothe the worried writer’s soul, but also challenge, and spur us into action.
My koha and wero to myself and my fellow Class of ’24 kaituhi:
- “Kāore te kumara e kōrero ana mo tōna ake reka” – but by the same token, do not give in to false humility. It’s up to us now to speak up, to use this opportunity granted to us. Let us speak and write well, and not shy away from the task because of our introverted natures, or impostor syndrome, or anything else which might hold us back when we should be stepping forth bravely. Let’s be the communicators we so desperately want to be. (And besides, you’re not the only one speaking up for yourself or your work anymore. Think about it: you have people standing by your manuscript now saying that this is worth their collective mahi to make happen. How cool is that? How strange, how unprecedented, how much of an honour!)
- Speaking of impostor syndrome, I offer you this instead: impostor’s glee. We’ve made it this far. If we truly were impostors, pretty good trickery we’ve done to get here – did you steal your manuscript? But guess what: we’ve done it, we’ve got our foot in the door, so why not run with the prize, nē? Why not be Māui in the halls of Mahuika, and run away with the fire? It’s only if you falter now and fail to do anything at all that the ‘impostor’ label could possibly come true. If you give it your all, there’s no way, ‘win’ or ‘lose’, that you’re an impostor.
- “He iti te mokoroa, nāna i kati te kahikatea”. Little by little, we can knock down the mighty kahikatea of the next revision draft… and then the next… and then the next… Whenever it looks too big, just remember, we only have to do a little at a time. I tell myself this as I stand at the foot of 47 chapters to go in the morning… and then at the end of the day I can tell myself yes, good, only 45 to go, and so on, day after day, ’til it is done. (and then… on to the next tree! This is quite the large revision forest. But take it one tree at a time.)
- Not a traditional whakataukī this time but a quote from Star Trek: “It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose. That is not a weakness. That is life.” This is very real for us now, with what we know about how publishing is not guaranteed to us. We might give it our all and still fall short of that lofty goal, through no fault of our own. The market may not be ready for us, or the time may not be right for whatever other reason. But I do not think we would regret it if we gave it our all and still failed. The thing is, we have made it to a place where we no longer labour in isolation and obscurity, but with something of a spotlight on us. That is a rare and special thing. Think about how long you’ve been working away at your writing all alone before this, without eyes on you. Well, now, eyes are on you. For years I worked diligently for no audience but the little self-policeman in my head. Now there are actually people who will see how hard you are working. Even if you don’t achieve that particular goal this time, so long as you have put the hard yards in, you will be recognized as a good sort from now on. To me, that’s a victory right there. Our diligence and integrity now will open doors in the future, I’m sure of it.
- Georgina Tuari Stewart writes that the “…ancestors can collapse the space-time continuum to be co-present with their descendants” (source: Māori Philosophy: Indigenous Thinking from Aotearoa). Besides this being an idea that sparks off so many ideas in the science-fiction and fantasy writer in me, this speaks to my wairua too. I want us to each hold this in mind as we progress through Te Papa Tupu. We are each of us the current, present node in the great weaving, with so much that came before us – so much that has been poured into us – so much that the tīpuna ahead invested in us without being able to see who we would become. Let’s forge on, knowing that we carry something gifted to us, and that we ourselves will have something to pass on when we are ancestors.
Kia kaha e hoa mā!
