Christine Bongers's Blog, page 12

Please excuse Christine’s absence…

It’s been a crazy summer. Jam-packed with more than some koalas could bear.

Rain. Snow. Heat wave. More rain.

Thirty-eight Bonger-Dongers for a Beach Christmas, dwindling to a mere eleven for New Year.  Followed by ten days in Japan, then home again, home again, jiggety-jig, for some quality time in bed with a nasty airline-induced flu.

There are still nine of us bunking together this week. Trying to figure out if the newest member of the clan will recognise us on skype when he goes home to the Can (my brother’s pithy codename for our national capital).

Builders are in my back yard, digging potholes in the rain. Builders are up the coast, waiting for a break in the weather to replace a leaking roof and water-damaged ceilings.

Our baby has started high school. Our almost-twenty-year-old has moved back in. Our fourteen-year-old is sleeping on whatever floor she can find.

It’s chaos, but I find myself oddly happy. Fortified and refreshed. Ready for the new year and all of its challenges.

I’m lucky, my family keeps me grounded. (But sending them all back to work and school gives me wings.)

Please excuse Christine's absence…

It's been a crazy summer. Jam-packed with more than some koalas could bear.

Rain. Snow. Heat wave. More rain.

Thirty-eight Bonger-Dongers for a Beach Christmas, dwindling to a mere eleven for New Year.  Followed by ten days in Japan, then home again, home again, jiggety-jig, for some quality time in bed with a nasty airline-induced flu.

There are still nine of us bunking together this week. Trying to figure out if the newest member of the clan will recognise us on skype when he goes home to the Can (my brother's pithy codename for our national capital).

Builders are in my back yard, digging potholes in the rain. Builders are up the coast, waiting for a break in the weather to replace a leaking roof and water-damaged ceilings.

Our baby has started high school. Our almost-twenty-year-old has moved back in. Our fourteen-year-old is sleeping on whatever floor she can find.

It's chaos, but I find myself oddly happy. Fortified and refreshed. Ready for the new year and all of its challenges.

I'm lucky, my family keeps me grounded. (But sending them all back to work and school gives me wings.)

2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here's an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 14,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 5 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Books for Xmas (Part One)

If, like me, you plan to end the year skidding in sideways with a book in each hand, then read on for this year's hot Xmas pressie ideas for family and friends…

For the Teen Miss, it would be hard to go past Shift by Em Bailey.  A genre-busting, riveting gallop of a read that examines toxic friendship through a more sinister lens. For me, this is the Young Adult psychological thriller of the year, with a doozy of a cover that booksellers tell me is walking off the shelves.

For tastes that run more to funny and poignant, first job, first love, then get Bill Condon's A Straight Line to My Heart. All Aussie humour and heart, with cracker dialogue and characters you can't bear to say goodbye to when the last page is turned.

For the young fella in the house, you can't go wrong with The Coming of the Whirlpool: Ship Kings 1.  This new series has all the hallmarks of a swash-buckling classic from Miles Franklin award-winning author Andrew McGahan.  Brimming with adventure, heroism and secrets. A must-buy for boys 12+ this Christmas.

Michael Gerard Bauer's Ishmael and the Hoops of Steel is a corker of a read for anyone aged 12 and over. In this hilarious third and final novel in the Ishmael series, our cast of lovable larrikins finishes Year 12 at St Daniels. The colourful rejacketed full set will make a terrific addition to any kid's library.

For the knee-highs, Katherine Battersby's adorable picture book Squish Rabbit is a winner with a squishy cover as sweet as the gelati palette used in its collaged pages. I have a very special three year old in mind for this one…

Lovers of fantasy are spoilt for choice with wonderful offerings from award-winning authors Melina Marchetta, Karen Brooks, Alison Goodman and James Moloney.

Froi of the Exiles is the riveting sequel to Finnikin of the Rock  and once again proves that Melina Marchetta is gifted with the grace of writing characters who steal your heart. Powerful story telling coupled with a nuanced understanding of human nature creates a richly imagined tale peopled with unforgettable characters. Froi of the Exiles is compulsive reading that will leave you clamouring for the final book in the series.

In Karen Brooks' Votive, the second in her Curse of the Bond Riders trilogy, the gentle candlemaker Tallow has been suborned by the corrupt Maleovellis and transformed into courtesan and assassin Tarlo. The machiavellian intrigues of this beautifully realised world will have you on tenderhooks for the final installment. Bring on Illumination!

Alison Goodman's Eona is a stunning conclusion to the Dragoneye fantasy duology that started with Eon (also published as The Two Pearls of Wisdom).

And finally, James Moloney's new fantasy Silvermay is guaranteed to please his myriad fans with Wyrdborn and common folk fighting over a child destined to destroy the world.

PS I've just realised this list is top-heavy with speculative fiction and kids, so next time I'll post some recommendations for Nana and other significant adults in your lives.

So tell me, what books are on your must-buy list this Christmas?

It's supposed to be hard

'If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great.'
Jimmy Dugan in A league of their own

Confession time.

I am not one of those writers who can spew out tens of thousands of words with gattling gun intensity.

The mere thought of writing 50,000 words in a month for National Novel Writing Month sends me straight to the swooning couch.

I have never written that much in a month. Never. Ever. Ever.

To even contemplate it, I would have to amputate all paid and non-paid commitments from my life, throw out my husband, put the kids in an orphanage, and sub-let the beagle, the ageing cat and assorted family members to a range of professional carers.

I admit it. I am slow.

Christie Brown could write faster than me with his left foot.

If it wasn't for a conveniently apple-shaped child in my age group, I would have come last in every race, every year of my schooling life.

The Speedy-Gonzales fairy didn't come to my christening. But that's OK, because the stubborn, persistent and sheer bloody-minded fairies not only came, they refused to go home.

I get there eventually.

Last month, I committed to writing a page a day despite a gazillion other commitments. It seemed achievable and it was. Despite all the usual distractions and a bonus flu that had me sounding like Barry White, the act of writing every day reignited my passion for my story.

Now I'm really firing, 33,000 words into it and ramping up the word count. I've even signed up for the 1000 Words A Day Challenge.

For me, that's hard, but achievable. And it comes with a bonus – 1000 words a day will allow me to finish the first draft before school breaks up and my writing life ends becomes even more fragmented.

(BTW, blogging is NEVER part of daily word count, so don't think this 350 words counts. It doesn't.  On that note, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to fire a few rounds into the w-i-p.)

Days like this

I have man flu. My usual nocturnal purr has become an alarming rafter-rattling snore that has destroyed my vocal chords. I cough, I splutter, I spend a day in bed reading Melina Marchetta's mesmerisingly brilliant Froi of the Exiles.

I graduate from no voice to man voice. Telemarketers ask if my wife's home.

I need cheering up, and lo, the gods smile upon me. Not one, but two publishing contracts arrive at chez Bongers.

The one from Scholastic comes via the ze french post man (he's sweet, says 'allo and calls me by my street-name-and-number when he spots me walking the dog far from home) .

The other, from Ford Street Publishing, pops up in my inbox.

Both of them are firsts for me. I squeal in delight; no sound comes out, but the beagle snaps to attention.

Drongoes will be my first illustrated chapter book, published by Scholastic next year in their Mates series of great Australian yarns.

Killer Stories will be published in Ford Street Publishing's 2012 anthology Trust Me Too!.

To celebrate, the beagle and I are snoopy dancing to Van Morrison's Days Like This.

Click here to join us.

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A page a day is a novel a year

In recent weeks the work-in-progress has gone from tetchy to down-right flinty-eyed. Now the silent treatment has given way to full-blown tirades whenever I'm within spitting distance of the keyboard.

So you're back, are you? Think you can just dump me, then pick up where we left off? After you've been running around with that little chapter book…Or that ridiculous short story. Oh yes, I know all about that, the one with the killer opening and cute little epiphany.

I avert my eyes. I can't bear to see the accusation in her stalled word count.

We've been together a long time, the w-i-p and me. She's a harsh mistress. Exacting and demanding. But you know what novels are like. They expect a lot from us, but then they give a lot too. And she's been giving me heaps lately…

You've been lunching with that new publisher, haven't you? The one who set you up with that Aussie Mate. Bet you didn't talk about me, did you? Well, I mean, what would you have to say? You never come near me, you don't write, you don't -

I stop her right there. She's right – about everything. I've let myself get distracted. Teaching other people how to massage their stories into shape, but neglecting needs much closer to home… I don't want to lose what we've built together, and I'm scared that if I fall out of the story, she'll never let me back in.

I make wild promises. I even sign up for Queensland Writers Week  in a desperate attempt to prove my commitment. I swear to finish what we've started and vow to earn my way get back into her good books.

I'll take baby steps. A page a day.  That's a novel a year. I can do this.

I promise myself and my sceptical w-i-p that I will dedicate at least one page to her, every day, until it is done.

No excuses. No exemptions. If I fail to write at least one page today, then I must write at least two pages tomorrow.

Hold me to this. In fact, put a smile on the face of your w-i-p and join me.

I'll be recording my progress in the comments below.  You can too. Let's celebrate Queensland Writers Week together, and get that novel written. One page at a time. Starting today.

I'm up to page 124 and counting. How about you?

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Still counting

There have been a few changes over the past seventeen years.

Someone (not him) has gained a few kilos. Someone (not me) has lost a bit of hair.

He still goes on his surf trips. Because old surfers never die, they just stand up and paddle.

I still don't understand why people wonder at me letting him go. Why it should be up to me to "let" him do what he loves.

He still tucks me in when he sneaks out at sparrow fart. So quiet he doesn't even wake the beagle.

He still holds my hand when we walk on the beach.

He still tells me I'm beautiful when I have morning breath and chook's nest hair.

I'm still grateful we found each other, ten years after we first met…

Seventeen years married, and still counting.

Great Sporting Moments

Sam Stosur's win in the US Open has prompted my own review of great sporting moments in history.

2005: The cartwheeling blonde goalie in Under Six soccer who caught her ankle in the goal net and hung upside down like a fly in a web while the opposition scored. Parent unhooked and popped her back onto her feet – just in time for child to calmly re-braid hair while the mop-headed opposition scored for the second time in two minutes.

2007: The relief, oh lordy, lordy. the relief, after an agonising season of three children losing every single game, every single weekend, in three separate sports, for what seemed an eternity…Season finally redeemed when our youngest's team scored their first goal EVER in the penultimate game of the season.

2009: Youngest redefines "fun" after being peppered in the goal by scary Under 10 team rumoured to train twice a week (in the off season). Valiantly stopped twenty goals, but couldn't stop that 18-nil loss. Ran off after game shouting 'Man, that was FUN!'

2011: Newmarket Soccer Club Fourth Division U13 team – undefeated for the season, grand final winners. Our child is the one with the second biggest grin (the biggest belonged to the dodgy mum with the camera.)

The Other Writers Festival

Not all the cool kids were at the Brisbane Writers Festival's Word Play for young readers, writers and illustrators this week.

Some of us – er, I mean, them – took a mosey down Waterworks Road to the inaugural Mater Dei Writers Festival at Ashgrove, where they heard tall tales and true from award-winning authors like Michael Gerard Bauer, Narelle Oliver, John Danalis, Josie Montano, Julie Fison and of course, yours truly.

It was a fabulous end to Book Week for this little black duck. After quacking away to nearly two thousand students in three dozen sessions over the past three weeks, I was delighted to shake my tail feathers closer to home for my last official school visit of the term.

My littlest guy was in the audience, just one of the gorgeous Year 4-7 students from Mater Dei, St Ambrose's, St Peter Chanel, St Finbarr's, Holy Rosary, Windsor and St Joseph's.

Thanks to Dominique Gardiner for organising what we all hope will become an annual event. Watch out BWF, MDWF is stealing your thunder!