Christine Bongers's Blog, page 4

On pit stops and filling the tank

‘Leave nothing in the tank,’ my gym instructor pants as we enter Dante’s ninth circle of suffering at the end of a hellish fifty-minute ride class.

She’s killing me. My heart broke free of my chest two tracks ago, my lips are peeled back in a rictus of agony, my leg muscles are screaming. Yet I know from experience that this is the moment to push harder, dig deeper, and find that last lick of energy at the bottom of the barrel.

We finish hard and fast. Because endorphins don’t come cheap (and because I know there will be chocolate tonight).

This is the cycle – go hard, empty the tank, then refuel, to go further next time.

In writing and in life, I’ve learned to go hard even when I don’t feel like it – especially when I don’t feel like it – because that’s where the rewards are found.

When I look back on some of my toughest times writing – a scathing manuscript appraisal before I was published and two grueling structural edits on Intruder – I am grateful that I didn’t give up. That I pushed through.

It has taken six  years and four books to learn that persistence pays. In the past twelve months, I’ve been invited to four Writers Festivals, two educational conferences, three Writer-in-Residencies and I’ve spoken to more than five thousand students from more than fifty schools.

I’m grateful for every opportunity, but after this year’s eight-week long Book Week, the tank was officially empty. So I cut myself some slack. 

While hubba hubby was off surfing in the Maldives, I took myself and the three youngest on a family holiday.

We read books. Chased waterfalls. Mountain biked down a volcano. Rode elephants. Walked down and back up a thousand steps to go rafting. Cooked and ate Balinese food. Laughed and had fun.

The tank is officially refilled. And now I’m ready to go hard again.

Shoot me now

Me and Sophie Hannah

I can die happy after a cracker of a night in Melbourne where Intruder won the 2015 Davitt Award for Best Debut Crime Book!

Do not underestimate my excitement. The last prize I won was a netball raffle ten years ago – a mountain bike designed by the military to be dropped out of helicopters into war zones.

A Davitt is infinitely more useful. And it fits on my desk!

A huge thank you to the awesome Sisters in Crime Australia for welcoming me into the fold at their 15th Annual Davitt Awards for best crime books by Australian women.

Intruder was shortlisted twice – in the Young Adult category (won by Ellie Marney’s wonderful Sherlockesque thriller Every Word), and for best Debut Crime Book which is judged across all categories (Non-fiction, Adult, YA and Children’s fiction).

With Pam Rushby and hubba hubby

Hubba hubby was there to take out the good husband award and to share in a fabulous night that celebrated Australia’s best women crime writers and which starred international best-selling author Sophie Hannah.

Huge congrats to all longlisted and short-listed authors, especially:

Liane Moriarty, Winner of the Best Adult Fiction Award for Big Little Lies and Sulari Gentill, Highly Commended for A Murder Unmentioned

Ellie Marney, Winner of Best YA Fiction for Every Word, and Pamela Rushby, Highly Commended for The Ratcatcher’s Daughter

Judith Rossell, Winner of Best Children’s Fiction for Withering-by-Sea, and Lollie Barr, Highly Commended for The Adventures of Stunt Boy and His Amazing Wonder Dog Blindfold 

Carolyn Overington, Winner, Best Non-fiction Book for Last Woman Hanged, and Julie Szego, Highly Commended for The Tainted Trial of Farah Jama.

And finally to  Candice Fox, who was Highly Commended in the Best Debut Crime Book category for Hades.

You are all winners in my book and I look forward to adding all your books to my tottering bedside reading pile!

Outta the way – Here Comes Book Week

It’s coming at me … Faster than a Matthew Reilly plot! More powerful than an idea whose time has come! Able to leap from primary to high schools in a single bound!

Look, up in my calendar – It’s an event, it’s a tradition, it’s …. Book Week!

Yes, it’s Book Week (which this year is super-sized for me – eight weeks long, with back-to-back school visits and festivals from mid-July to mid-September).

With Will Kostakis jump-starting our Book Week at St Aidans Literature Festival

It’s a gorgeous time when everyone who loves books comes together to celebrate: teachers, librarians, booksellers, writers, illustrators, and of course, our wonderful readers.

Festivities officially kicked off last Friday with the CBCA’s Book of the Year Announcements.

I was so proud and grateful to have Intruder shortlisted this year and offer my warmest congratulations to all Winners and Honour Books for 2015. especially author Claire Zorn for her beautiful Book of the Year for Older Readers, The Protected, and illustrator Freya Blackwood for her extraordinary achievement in taking out three Book of the Year Awards for Picture Book, Early Childhood and Younger Readers.

Have a super Book Week. I know I will. :)

One happy camper

For someone who doesn’t camp, I couldn’t have picked a better way to kick off my month of Book Week than Townsville’s Cathedral School Writers Camp in North Queensland.

Although I had hoped it would be relatively civilised (ie with somewhere to plug in my laptop), I didn’t expect an experience more glamping than camping.

While the forty-five kids and four dedicated staff had to rough it in dorms, their precious writer-in-residence had her own queen-sized bed in Paluma’s Rainforest Inn, all her meals cooked for her by the lovely Jeanette and Jodie at Gumburu Environmental Education Centre, and was even chauffeur-driven the two hundred metres back home each evening.

Mind you, with the food police 1600 kilometres away back in Brisbane, there was nothing to stand between said writer and the sticky date pudding, so they could just as easily have rolled me down that unlit road each night after dinner…

Our days and nights were filled with writing, games, singing and story telling. We hiked to a waterfall, drank from its crystal stream and survived to tell the tale (Carmo’s mountain goat escapades have probably reached legend status back home in Townsville by now.)

I’ve been home a day and miss it already – all the laughs with our inspirational leader Judy; the blind-folded walk through the rainforest with Loretta; threading sinkers through trousers with Carmo; and scary stories round the campfire with Floyd.

And the kids, well, they’d take some beating. Thanks for making me part of your writing crew.

When I got home I opened the folder Judy gave me and haven’t stopped grinning. Thanks for the warm and fuzzies, Cathedral. You writers rock! 

What goes on tour stays on tour (or not)

How many authors can you fit in a photo booth?

Whitsunday Voices has just rocketed to the top of my list of favourite Youth Literature Festivals EVER.

Enthusiastic hordes of kids (nearly 6,000 over two days), an unruly mob of wacky funsters (er, I mean authors and illustrators), and a sold-out bookstore that more than eased the graphospasm pain from six frenetic signing sessions.

Two of my awesome minions!

Whitsunday Voices made it look effortless with a top lineup of literary and musical talent and gifted minions catering to every whim of its fourteen resident authors, illustrators and musicians over the two days and nights of the festival.

And what a demanding mob we were. Especially Tony Flowers who insisted on fresh jelly beans in the green room each morning AND his sandwiches cut into circles, NOT rectangles, triangles or squares.

Tony Flowers and his signature Tim Tams

When he demanded chocolate biscuits decorated in his own inimitable cartooning style, we almost choked laughing – until Mandy Lawless and her nonpareil catering corp managed to come up with exactly that.

Now I know that Literature Festivals aren’t all about the food. But when you’re talking to up to 300 kids per session, a writer has NEEDS (some of which only occured to me when they wheeled in the freshly baked scones, and please, don’t get me started on that apple and date cake with caramelised coconut topping).

[Pauses and wipes dribble from keyboard]

Now, where where we? Oh, yes, literature. Um, have I mentioned this year’s awesome lineup?

RA Spratt, Emma Quay, AJ Betts, Dave Lowe, Nick Falk, Danny Katz, Will Kostakis, Tristan Bancks, Tony Flowers

Tara Moss, Emma Quay, Nick Falk, RA Spratt, Tony Flowers, Tristan Bancks, AJ Betts, Danny Katz, Jenni from WAS, Will Kostakis and me

At last, the elusive Mark Greenwood (second from right) finally captured on camera (along with the usual suspects)

Singing the praises of short stories

A huge thank you to Whitsunday Anglican School for hosting such a marvellous event, to the Winchester Foundation for bringing rural and remote students to the Festival, to my fellow scribes, artists and performers for making it so much fun, and to the kids – you’re the best. Write on!

On making unsatisfactory realities into deeply satisfying stories

Shaun Kirk, blues musician extraordinaire

Lucas Proudfoot keeping the littlies entralled with traditional Aboriginal dance and music

Head chef Mandy and the team!

Awesome organiser Sonia Andersen and Anna De Luca

Yes, there were tears

Well, I did warn hubba hubby last night: ‘I’m having a cry tomorrow. Just so you know.’

He didn’t know why, of course, until I told him. About the CBCA Book of the Year – Notable Books��and Short List��announcement.

About how all we writers for young people wait with roiling guts for the announcement at midday. Distracting ourselves with keep-busy work, while all our hopes and fears dash up against the ever-present thought: ��So many great books … such a strong year��…

So yes, I did burst into tears when I saw Intruder��short-listed for the��2015 CBCA Book of the Year for Older Readers.

Because until I saw it there in such fine company, I didn’t believe that it would be, that it could be … ��Because there were��so many great books. It was such a strong year.��

So, I’d just like to say thank you to the CBCA and offer my congratulations – not only to the 2015 Notable and Shortlisted��authors, but to all the writers and illustrators of the 400-odd titles that the CBCA judges deliberated over this past year – here’s to the rich diversity of Aussie books for kids and teens, long may it rule! *clinks glass*

Home again, home again, jiggety jig

Oh you can book me in anytime, Somerset – fifteen thousand school kids, 120 parent volunteers, thirty-three authors and thirty-plus temperatures over a jam-packed four days at the Gold Coast – another sizzlingly superlative Celebration of Literature!

The kids were all inspired and inspiring, but a special shout-out to the Macintyre Young Writers��for their enthusiasm despite the seven-hour bus trip via Goondawindi ��to be part of the festival; and to the Somerset College kids for their brilliant hosting of the event.

After 22 years, Somerset has a fair idea just how disoriented authors can get when taken out of their native habitat. That’s why they allocate two hardworking elves to each of us, to guide and assist, fetch coffee, steer us into our sessions, and make sure we don’t get lost in between times.

I had the finest elves any author could ask for – Rosalie and Nick, Year 10 members of the Wordsmiths club, seen here behaving��themselves beautifully while I ham it up with��Clare Atkins, author of the brilliant debut novel, Nona and Me.��

Clearly, literature festivals are hard work. Hanging out with old friends Michael Gerard Bauer,and James Moloney. Dining out with our wonderful Scholastic publisher Dyan Blacklock. Breakfasting with my brilliant Random House publicist Zoe Bechara and fellow Authors Belinda Murrell, Keith Austin,��R.A. Spratt��and George Ivanoff.

And don’t get me started on my fan girl moments, sharing the Green Room with so many talented authors including��Ellie Marney (Author of Every Breath), and��Melissa Keil (The Incredible Adventures of Cinnamon Girl).

What can I say? It’s a tough gig . . . but I did miss my dog, my kids, and my husband (possibly in that order). It’s good to be home. :)

 

Somerset here I come!

Packing. Ack. I’m hopeless at it.��I throw in too much of everything, can’t cope for four days with less than three pairs of Birkis plus something sparkly to wear out at night, and then I forget essentials – like the address of where I am staying . . .

And no wonder, I mean, look at me – I’m supposed to be packing, I’m leaving at 8.30 in the am and here I am jabbering away at my keyboard, having the loveliest of times instead of googling weather on the Gold Coast for the next four days or whatever it is that organised people do when they pack . . .

Dang, I really wish I were a list person, then I could tick off the following:

Washing (check – everything is clean, so that’s a start)

Dog (check – he has food and has been walked this morning – sorry Huggy, that’s the best I can do. If they forget to feed you, just hoover the kitchen floor, that should be enough to survive on till Saturday)

Children (check – the pantry is stocked, school forms have been filled in and signed, promises to look after the youngest have been extracted from the eldest . . . but Lordy, best not to dwell on this topic, so moving on…)

Laptop (check – loaded with tomorrow’s talk to a packed auditorium at Helensvale Cultural Centre AND the latest draft of my work-in-progress – an optimistic thought, but perhaps after each thrill-packed day at Somerset Celebration of Literature��all we authors will be inspired to work poolside at the Royal Pines Resort – Surfers Paradise

Wait – I’ll need togs! And a cover-up. Sandals. And clothes – day-wear, and for going out at night and to bed. Oh dear, you better excuse me, I need to get cracking with that packing . . .

Do you think three pairs of Birkis are enough?

On ‘happy’ birthdays

The older I get, the more I suspect happiness is linked to low expectations.

I expected nothing from yesterday’s birthday, had planned nothing in the aftermath of floods and other dramas, and yet 24 hours later I’m still aglow from the unexpected pleasures it brought.

A romantic dinner��with hubby the night before… Great Italian��with the kids last night. A call from an old pal – celebrating a 43 year friendship that’s still going strong. Another from my brother – hearing his voice on the phone after a tracheotomy tube had prevented him from speaking for a week was the most joyful of birthday presents.

All six of my brothers remembered, even the one on night shift in cyclone-torn Central Queensland. Such great blokes, and lord knows, they all had more important things on their minds.

The 42 people evacuated by helicopter from flood-devastated Jambin included one brother, his wife, their daughter and granddaughter, and another nephew and niece.

Water surrounded my family’s homes in Biloela and Jambin, but didn’t make it inside, thank the high heavens. Chooks and dogs survived, but not the four black snakes my brother killed while clearing debris from around his front steps.

A neighbour across from my Mum admitted panicking as the rising waters turned the surrounding streets into canals. ‘Oh, I wasn’t worried,’ said my 84 year old mother. ‘I’ve been through this before.’ And she has. More times than most.��Despite power failures and unreliable telephone coverage, she somehow managed to send me a beautiful bunch of flowers, bless her.

The floods of the 1970s made an enormous impression on me as a teenager and decades later featured in my first novel��Dust:��‘Silently, like a thief, the flood had crept up on us, stealing our land, our paddocks, the path to our back door, our bottom step.’��This year,��the flood waters made it two steps higher.

Back in the 70s, I��was a Suzi Quatro-obsessed teen.

And in a strange twist of fate, as the flood waters recede yet again in Central Queensland and the indomitable folk begin yet another clean up, I’ll be reliving that teenaged obsession.

A good friend has surprised me with tickets to Suzi Quatro for my birthday – and try as I might to keep��my expectations low, they keep bubbling up.

Can the Can, baby, we’ll be Devil Gate Driving tonight!

The Calm before the Storm

This is the blog post I had to have before the year launches itself onto my unsuspecting back and goes crazy.

Not bad-crazy, or Spock-when-you-insult-his-mother-crazy, but GOOD-CRAZY.��

It’s chockablock with writing workshops, mentorships, school visits and Festivals – and even my first-ever trip to the Big Apple, yay! (Please feel free to let your NYC agent and publisher know that I’ll be in town; I’m sure Intruder��would go down a treat with a bagel and lox.) :)

For those who love to know such things, click��here��for a complete run-down of what 2015 has in store for me. ��For the rest of you, here are the highlights to date:

17-20 March ��Somerset Celebration of Literature | Gold Coast

15-30 May: Washington and New York, New York (so excited, I had to say it twice!)

15-18 July: Whitsunday Voices Literature Festival

29 July-2 August: Townsville Writer-in-Residency

22-28 August: Book Week

2-6 September: Brisbane Writers Festival

14 September: StoryArts Festival Ipswich

I’m also pleased to be taking on the role of Mentor for the Qld Literary Awards Emerging Author Manuscript Awards in 2015. In recent years, I’ve provided short mentoring sessions as part of QWC’s Writer’s Surgery��so it’s fantastic to have the opportunity to work with a single author over the course of the year on the development of her manuscript.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s back to my��work-in-progress before the madness begins!