I recently watched ‘Twilight: New Moon’, and stepping past all the hu-ha about it being a terrible film, blah blah blah, there was something I was struck by that resonated. When Edward leads Bella into the forest to tell her that he and his vampire family are leaving, she stumbles about in the forest for an allocated period of time and then lays down on the earth, exhausted, pained, and broken. Many many many of us have been there, sitting deep in that intense pain of loss or break up that feels irrefutably like the end of everything that matters.
Following this is the montage of her sitting behind her window watching the world pass by to ‘Lykke Li’s ‘Possibility’ (A fantastic song if you didn’t know). And this montage very aptly represents the many stages of depression and pain and loss that has the power to penetrate through our entire beings. Regardless of our feelings about the film, the story of pain remains; it’s powerful and all-consuming.
The reason why I bring this up is this; I have started to realise and feel the intense pain that as an author, you put yourself through. I laughed it off beforehand, when I read it or heard it – authors feeling the pain of their characters and their lives, but I take that back now. I was wrong. How naive was I!?
One of the biggest roadblocks I have faced is the pain of the lives of my characters, each and every one of them. Each heartbreak and each loss as I write and rewrite them into reality, takes its toll. They take on substance and form, a familiarity and a potentiality. I dream of them, their lives, their hurts, their joys. And I write, rewrite and write, putting in, pulling out, putting in, shaping, moulding, hurting. You don’t realise this until it’s too late, until it’s happening and the pain feels way too real. This is a thought that now lingers after this process, the idea that we are creating life, living and breathing in its own way, and it isn’t meant to be easy, or straightforward.
The Te Papa Tupu programme has pushed us in ways we didn’t think we could be pushed, like I said above. We have learnt so much about writing, about the process of crafting and editing, thinking about audiences and the way words sound or work together. About writing too little or too much. About writing from certain perspectives. About embodying characters and stepping into their shoes. About accents and dialogue.
In the first Blog post I spoke about managing writing with life, and it is this that I want to reflect on now. I have fallen behind in my writing, clawing word by word onto the page it feels, in order to get something done. It’s not the ideas, or the lack thereof, it’s the physical ability to make the brain function when all it wants to do is sleep and rest, because it needs to be able to tackle the hard job ahead. As a teacher and head of department during the school year my job is intense. It is 100% intensity. Work takes over, and despite my best attempts at carving time for writing, I fell behind (Sorry Jacquie!).
What I thought though, was that at least over the summer break I would get a significant amount of writing done, and catch up. What I underestimated was the sheer amount burnout would take from me. I have been exhausted and this alongside the demands of raising a family, entertaining and caring for children at home, and keeping a house mean the ’significant’ amount of writing I was hoping to achieve has not quite happened.
So now the next challenge arises, and I imagine it’s a challenge many women (and perhaps men, but I can’t speak for them) face when juggling the multiple expectations of them; getting the writing complete while still having significant commitments on both time and presence. I admit I don’t know what this is going to look like. The goal is the same, but the route there may have to be the scenic route. The one in horror films where the detour sees you battling for your life and you barely make it out in the morning, if at all you do.
I have only written 41,277 words since the program started. 14 chapters out of an approximate 25, and this is barely a scratch in the scheme of my novel. The program is due to finish at the end of January, and the submission of my manuscript comes up a few months after that. I think I’m gonna need Hermione’s time turner, or something equally powerful, to get where I need to go. Of course, we don’t give up, that’s really not an option. I guess the point here is to be transparent, as lofty as plans may be, sometimes they don’t always go exactly how you want. The point though, is to not give up, but reflect, reset, and plan for the next steps.
I want to thank the Māori Literature Trust and Huia Publishers for the opportunity to participate in this programme. I would also like to thank the mentors for all the time they have given us and the lessons they have taught us, in particular Jacquie Macrae, who has been my mentor. Jacquie has given me the gift of her time, a gift that is the most valuable as time is the most precious resource. She has read my manuscript and all the editing and writing completed thus far, patiently leaving me comments that help me grow and develop my writing and writing skills. I also want to thank my mahi, for allowing me to take time out of work to participate in this programme without condition, and supporting my growth in this area I want to pursue.
I also want to thank my fellow writers, in particular Steph, Toni, and Claire. We’ve held space for each other and championed each other, and this is important. The community gained from these ladies is invaluable and I hope we keep it going!
Even though the programme is due to end, the writing isn’t and the story isn’t. Once it’s done, hopefully it makes it out into the ether to join the many other precious works that shape our lives and the lives of generations to come.
Ngā mini nui to those of you following along, we’ll get a book out there yet.
