Thomas W. Devine's Blog, page 29
September 14, 2013
Reasons for Not Taking Up Fiction Writing in New Zealand (NZ)
With thanks to “Your Weekend” (The Dominion Post September 14, 2013) here are some discouraging facts:
• Of the 2000 new books published in NZ every year, 1200 are educational
• Just 4% are novels
• Book sales have fallen by 16-19% in the last year
• NZ will end the year with only one full-scale multinational publishing operation after starting the year with four
• Print runs are reducing
• Most indie books don’t sell more than a few hundred copies
• Even mid-career writers can suddenly find themselves without a publisher unless they turn to self-publishing.
• Of the 2000 new books published in NZ every year, 1200 are educational
• Just 4% are novels
• Book sales have fallen by 16-19% in the last year
• NZ will end the year with only one full-scale multinational publishing operation after starting the year with four
• Print runs are reducing
• Most indie books don’t sell more than a few hundred copies
• Even mid-career writers can suddenly find themselves without a publisher unless they turn to self-publishing.
September 8, 2013
Writer's Musings
It’s always great to hear from a happy reader. Here’s what one recently said about my fifth novel, “Island of Regrets”:
“Suspenseful, such that I had to complete it in one reading. Your best novel in my view and the Campbell Island references (and the Wellington ones) brought a reality and special interest to it. Well done. An enjoyable read.”
Then there are inevitably readers who point out possible flaws, like a reader of my latest novel, “Green Expectations”. He’s a retired scientist who questioned my naming of a fictitious mountain in the North Island of NZ, writing:
“Maungakaramea means Mountain of the wild spaniard (NZ Geographic Board Understanding Maori Placenames). The wild spaniard is a (horrible thorny) plant of grassland rather than forest communties, and native to the South Island [of New Zealand].”
The Board’s Gazeteer of place names has only one entry for “Maungakaramea” and it is located near the top of the North Island of New Zealand. If there was ever a wild spaniard at this place then it was a long way from home.
The reader has, however, complimented me for this same novel, writing:
“The Prologue is confident and catchy; the characters are believable and the interplay among them is orchestrated well. It's clear you are thoroughly acquainted with the subject of land and resource use conflict. Your treatment of hapless DOC officials and weak Crown Ministers is interesting. I liked the fact that the geographic setting was familiar.”
“Suspenseful, such that I had to complete it in one reading. Your best novel in my view and the Campbell Island references (and the Wellington ones) brought a reality and special interest to it. Well done. An enjoyable read.”
Then there are inevitably readers who point out possible flaws, like a reader of my latest novel, “Green Expectations”. He’s a retired scientist who questioned my naming of a fictitious mountain in the North Island of NZ, writing:
“Maungakaramea means Mountain of the wild spaniard (NZ Geographic Board Understanding Maori Placenames). The wild spaniard is a (horrible thorny) plant of grassland rather than forest communties, and native to the South Island [of New Zealand].”
The Board’s Gazeteer of place names has only one entry for “Maungakaramea” and it is located near the top of the North Island of New Zealand. If there was ever a wild spaniard at this place then it was a long way from home.
The reader has, however, complimented me for this same novel, writing:
“The Prologue is confident and catchy; the characters are believable and the interplay among them is orchestrated well. It's clear you are thoroughly acquainted with the subject of land and resource use conflict. Your treatment of hapless DOC officials and weak Crown Ministers is interesting. I liked the fact that the geographic setting was familiar.”
August 31, 2013
The Rich Get Richer
When I watched TV3’s Thursday night “Inside New Zealand” documentary I was delighted, but saddened anew, to find that the subject – “Mind the Gap: A special Report on Inequality” – brought out some of the same issues I’ve raised in my blogs about the rich getting richer and the poor getting worse off in New Zealand.
The doco’ blamed it all on neo-liberal concepts of government that have involved privatisation and deregulation which have failed our country over thirty years.
Columnist Jane Bowron (Dominion Post August 31, 2013) reviewed the doco’ and lamented: “The sickening unfairness and failure to bring [rich] tax evaders to justice would have had many tax-burdened [middle-class] viewers throwing their dinner scraps at the screen.” The poor would doubtless have a better use for their scraps.
Only a “crippling apathy” among the poor and middle class, Jane Bowron says, has prevented a change to “the rotten status quo”.
What will give way first? The greed of the rich, the forbearance of the middle-class, or the patience of the poor? For the sake of New Zealand it had better be the first. We have to tackle poverty and social injustice now.
The doco’ blamed it all on neo-liberal concepts of government that have involved privatisation and deregulation which have failed our country over thirty years.
Columnist Jane Bowron (Dominion Post August 31, 2013) reviewed the doco’ and lamented: “The sickening unfairness and failure to bring [rich] tax evaders to justice would have had many tax-burdened [middle-class] viewers throwing their dinner scraps at the screen.” The poor would doubtless have a better use for their scraps.
Only a “crippling apathy” among the poor and middle class, Jane Bowron says, has prevented a change to “the rotten status quo”.
What will give way first? The greed of the rich, the forbearance of the middle-class, or the patience of the poor? For the sake of New Zealand it had better be the first. We have to tackle poverty and social injustice now.
August 25, 2013
Eulogy to My Sister
My very dear, recently departed sister was not a movie star nor a glamorous fashion model nor a head of state but one of the masses. She was still a special person. This is my eulogy to her:
Valerie and her late husband, Jack, were avid card players, devoted to the games of Canasta and Five Hundred, among others. In her later years, Valerie’s card-playing circle reduced to a small group which at one stage included a Catholic priest of St Mary's Parish. The priest, and another member of the group, were heavy smokers.
On “card night”, on one occasion when my wife and I were staying with Valerie, we went out to a movie, partly to be out of the way and partly to avoid having to play. I’ll always remember coming back to Valerie’s place after the movie. The card game was still enthusiastically under way at the kitchen table. A thick layer of cigarette smoke filled the room almost down to the level of the players’ heads. It was too toxic to walk into but Valerie and the other seated players seemed blissfully unaware of it.
Valerie was always hospitable to her card-playing buddies and other friends and family. My wife and I had many enjoyable visits to her home in Eltham Road and, since she was an excellent cook, we were treated royally. But that was less important than the love she showed.
Val’s loving nature came through in so many aspects of her life – in care for her husband when he was alive, and in his final illness, in care for their two children and for their grandchildren.
Valerie was in the Lamb of God movement in the Catholic Church and was an active member of the St Vincent de Paul Society, volunteering many hours of her time at the St Vincent shop in High Street.
Before her eyesight became too poor for driving she was also generous in providing transport for elderly friends. She missed being able to do that when she had to give up her car and resort to a mobility scooter. Many of those dear friends pre-deceased Val and I know she missed each one of them.
Valerie was very self-sacrificing. One example (though there are many) was how she gave up her own home and moved in with our parents to so capably look after them in their old age. Today, that is increasingly seen as above and beyond the call of duty but is within the bounds of charity of a very loving and selfless person like Valerie.
In her lifetime, Val worked in Blenheim in a bakery, a hospital kitchen, and an orchard. With her husband, Jack, she also ran a successful milk bar/cafe business in Rotorua for some years.
Valerie was an avid reader of novels, despite her poor eyesight, and I’m happy that six novels, I’ve written, put her to sleep in bed on a few nights.
Valerie and I were very close throughout her life – perhaps more so than many sisters and brothers. Valerie had to finish school at a young age – our mother used to say it was because of her poor eyesight but Valerie would tell me it was so she could look after me when I was a baby and toddler. Whatever the reason, and while Val was only eleven years older than me, I always regarded her as a second mother as well as a very dear sister.
Valerie, and the whole Blenheim family, enjoyed picnics – from the days when we were young and the family had no car (limiting our opportunities) to later in life when we were more mobile. Waterlea, Pelorus Bridge, Rarangi, Picton and the Taylor River (before the dam) were favourite places. Valerie often provided food for those outings, including her fabulous bacon and egg pie. In Val’s last few years, when we came to stay, we would take her out on nostalgic daily excursions, which she loved.
Recently, along with other family members and friends, we were with Valerie for her eightieth birthday (which she had to spend in hospital) and my wife and I were able to take her for what turned out to be her last outing to Picton and Rarangi. That was a special occasion – like every hour with Valerie throughout her life.
May God bless us all and give us comfort in our grief at the loss of a loving mother, grandmother, sister, friend and parishioner.
Valerie and her late husband, Jack, were avid card players, devoted to the games of Canasta and Five Hundred, among others. In her later years, Valerie’s card-playing circle reduced to a small group which at one stage included a Catholic priest of St Mary's Parish. The priest, and another member of the group, were heavy smokers.
On “card night”, on one occasion when my wife and I were staying with Valerie, we went out to a movie, partly to be out of the way and partly to avoid having to play. I’ll always remember coming back to Valerie’s place after the movie. The card game was still enthusiastically under way at the kitchen table. A thick layer of cigarette smoke filled the room almost down to the level of the players’ heads. It was too toxic to walk into but Valerie and the other seated players seemed blissfully unaware of it.
Valerie was always hospitable to her card-playing buddies and other friends and family. My wife and I had many enjoyable visits to her home in Eltham Road and, since she was an excellent cook, we were treated royally. But that was less important than the love she showed.
Val’s loving nature came through in so many aspects of her life – in care for her husband when he was alive, and in his final illness, in care for their two children and for their grandchildren.
Valerie was in the Lamb of God movement in the Catholic Church and was an active member of the St Vincent de Paul Society, volunteering many hours of her time at the St Vincent shop in High Street.
Before her eyesight became too poor for driving she was also generous in providing transport for elderly friends. She missed being able to do that when she had to give up her car and resort to a mobility scooter. Many of those dear friends pre-deceased Val and I know she missed each one of them.
Valerie was very self-sacrificing. One example (though there are many) was how she gave up her own home and moved in with our parents to so capably look after them in their old age. Today, that is increasingly seen as above and beyond the call of duty but is within the bounds of charity of a very loving and selfless person like Valerie.
In her lifetime, Val worked in Blenheim in a bakery, a hospital kitchen, and an orchard. With her husband, Jack, she also ran a successful milk bar/cafe business in Rotorua for some years.
Valerie was an avid reader of novels, despite her poor eyesight, and I’m happy that six novels, I’ve written, put her to sleep in bed on a few nights.
Valerie and I were very close throughout her life – perhaps more so than many sisters and brothers. Valerie had to finish school at a young age – our mother used to say it was because of her poor eyesight but Valerie would tell me it was so she could look after me when I was a baby and toddler. Whatever the reason, and while Val was only eleven years older than me, I always regarded her as a second mother as well as a very dear sister.
Valerie, and the whole Blenheim family, enjoyed picnics – from the days when we were young and the family had no car (limiting our opportunities) to later in life when we were more mobile. Waterlea, Pelorus Bridge, Rarangi, Picton and the Taylor River (before the dam) were favourite places. Valerie often provided food for those outings, including her fabulous bacon and egg pie. In Val’s last few years, when we came to stay, we would take her out on nostalgic daily excursions, which she loved.
Recently, along with other family members and friends, we were with Valerie for her eightieth birthday (which she had to spend in hospital) and my wife and I were able to take her for what turned out to be her last outing to Picton and Rarangi. That was a special occasion – like every hour with Valerie throughout her life.
May God bless us all and give us comfort in our grief at the loss of a loving mother, grandmother, sister, friend and parishioner.
August 5, 2013
A Small Confession
In an article (Sunday Star Times 14 July 2013) columnist Lynda Hallinan writes about re-visiting her great-grandmother’s derelict rural home. She describes the old things she found inside that had been left behind after the “good stuff” was “divvied up” by relatives.
The article reminded me of a decision I had to make about thirty years ago. At the time, I held the position of Assistant Director of National Parks & Reserves in the then Department of Lands & Survey in Wellington, New Zealand.
I received a radio call from the leader of the meteorological team on Campbell Island in the Sub-Antarctic. A landslide had badly damaged the historic World War II coast-watcher’s hut on the island. Should he do anything, like salvage the contents?
I decided, confident at the time, that the hut should be left as an untouched ruin. (I had no immediate resources at my disposal to do anything else.)
I visited Campbell Island about a year later. The hut had been split open at one corner and the contents (everything left behind by the coast-watchers in 1945) were exposed to the extreme weather, though even books and magazines were still there on shelves, along with other detritus.
I had an urge to salvage the hut's contents, seeing it in that sorry state, but I stuck to my decision. Goodness knows what interesting relics, if any, were lost because of it.
The article reminded me of a decision I had to make about thirty years ago. At the time, I held the position of Assistant Director of National Parks & Reserves in the then Department of Lands & Survey in Wellington, New Zealand.
I received a radio call from the leader of the meteorological team on Campbell Island in the Sub-Antarctic. A landslide had badly damaged the historic World War II coast-watcher’s hut on the island. Should he do anything, like salvage the contents?
I decided, confident at the time, that the hut should be left as an untouched ruin. (I had no immediate resources at my disposal to do anything else.)
I visited Campbell Island about a year later. The hut had been split open at one corner and the contents (everything left behind by the coast-watchers in 1945) were exposed to the extreme weather, though even books and magazines were still there on shelves, along with other detritus.
I had an urge to salvage the hut's contents, seeing it in that sorry state, but I stuck to my decision. Goodness knows what interesting relics, if any, were lost because of it.
July 30, 2013
Freedom of Speech
The gay community (or some element of it) having in many countries recently won “equal rights” to “marriage”, have launched an online campaign asking moviegoers to boycott the film “Ender’s Game” (The Dominion Post July 17, 2013).
The reason? It's based on a book written by Orson Scott Card, an outspoken opponent of same-sex “marriage”.
Vindictiveness by the freedom-seeking gay community is one thing. Trying to curtail a writer’s freedom of speech and belief is quite another.
The reason? It's based on a book written by Orson Scott Card, an outspoken opponent of same-sex “marriage”.
Vindictiveness by the freedom-seeking gay community is one thing. Trying to curtail a writer’s freedom of speech and belief is quite another.
July 15, 2013
A Moment of Fame in the USA
I was interested to come across a reference by Dave Armstrong to the “once-great San Francisco Chronicle” (The Dominion Post, July 15, 2013). He describes it as a now “flimsy, tabloid-sized establishment newspaper”.
My one moment of fame in the good old US of A (or maybe only in that great city) was being mentioned by a columnist in another paper, the “San Francisco Examiner”.
The date was April 4, 1967. The columnist was a cigar-smoking Prescott Sullivan. While he wrote a sports column, he took the trouble to mention a letter I’d written to the editor.
I was then 23, living in New Zealand without having had overseas experience, and an aspiring novelist. Gauchely, I was wanting readers in San Francisco to write to me about how the city looks and feels to live in so that I could use it as a setting for a story I was then contemplating writing.
So Sullivan used the column to tell me, among other things, about the city’s sporting woes, mentioning Tito Fuentes’ injury, the Giant’s pennant chances, and the progress the San Francisco Warriors were making in the National Basketball Association playoffs.
Sullivan probably isn't with us now. He already looked so old, in his newspaper photo, that he is likely long dead.
I didn’t end up writing a story set in San Francisco, but did get a couple of interesting American pen-friends, one a guy in jail and the other a San Francisco housewife. Maybe they are still around.
Much later, I did write a novel (published in the USA as “Tortolona”) that had some scenes in San Diego and Miami but I never had any pretence that I could write with authority about the USA or its people.
My latest novels (see www.thomaswdevine.com) have been set in New Zealand. It’s an old adage – write about what you know best.
My one moment of fame in the good old US of A (or maybe only in that great city) was being mentioned by a columnist in another paper, the “San Francisco Examiner”.
The date was April 4, 1967. The columnist was a cigar-smoking Prescott Sullivan. While he wrote a sports column, he took the trouble to mention a letter I’d written to the editor.
I was then 23, living in New Zealand without having had overseas experience, and an aspiring novelist. Gauchely, I was wanting readers in San Francisco to write to me about how the city looks and feels to live in so that I could use it as a setting for a story I was then contemplating writing.
So Sullivan used the column to tell me, among other things, about the city’s sporting woes, mentioning Tito Fuentes’ injury, the Giant’s pennant chances, and the progress the San Francisco Warriors were making in the National Basketball Association playoffs.
Sullivan probably isn't with us now. He already looked so old, in his newspaper photo, that he is likely long dead.
I didn’t end up writing a story set in San Francisco, but did get a couple of interesting American pen-friends, one a guy in jail and the other a San Francisco housewife. Maybe they are still around.
Much later, I did write a novel (published in the USA as “Tortolona”) that had some scenes in San Diego and Miami but I never had any pretence that I could write with authority about the USA or its people.
My latest novels (see www.thomaswdevine.com) have been set in New Zealand. It’s an old adage – write about what you know best.
July 8, 2013
Human Self-Destructiveness
Two headlines caught my attention in The Dominion Post of July 8, 2013:
1. More kids committing sexual abuse.
2. Data shows ‘we’re in trouble’.
The first article, by Michelle Duff, says that easy access to increasingly hard-core pornography and the sexualisation of childhood are to blame for a rise in the number of children sexually abusing each other.
What these children see, and shouldn’t, distorts their understanding of what is normal at their age – or any age for that matter.
Ian Lambie, an Auckland University expert in clinical and forensic psychology calls for more research into the impact on children.
It would be far better, in my opinion, if we didn’t wait for the outcome. Each parent needs to do everything possible now to totally restrict their children’s access to hard-core pornography. Trouble is, that’s not happening in every family, nor is it likely to. Stopping pornography at source seems an equally faint hope.
The second article is about the risks of climate change and a looming population explosion. Giles Whittel interviewed Stephen Emmott of the University of Oxford who doesn’t think there is any hope.
People have given up on saving the planet, Whittel writes. Emmott says we will probably do nothing to change the behaviours that put us in this predicament.
Both articles, I’d say, give examples of human self-destructiveness.
1. More kids committing sexual abuse.
2. Data shows ‘we’re in trouble’.
The first article, by Michelle Duff, says that easy access to increasingly hard-core pornography and the sexualisation of childhood are to blame for a rise in the number of children sexually abusing each other.
What these children see, and shouldn’t, distorts their understanding of what is normal at their age – or any age for that matter.
Ian Lambie, an Auckland University expert in clinical and forensic psychology calls for more research into the impact on children.
It would be far better, in my opinion, if we didn’t wait for the outcome. Each parent needs to do everything possible now to totally restrict their children’s access to hard-core pornography. Trouble is, that’s not happening in every family, nor is it likely to. Stopping pornography at source seems an equally faint hope.
The second article is about the risks of climate change and a looming population explosion. Giles Whittel interviewed Stephen Emmott of the University of Oxford who doesn’t think there is any hope.
People have given up on saving the planet, Whittel writes. Emmott says we will probably do nothing to change the behaviours that put us in this predicament.
Both articles, I’d say, give examples of human self-destructiveness.
June 28, 2013
Self-Serving Feminist Opinion
It is one thing to murder unborn children, it is quite another to defend it as justified.
An unborn child is not a piece of consumer merchandise – like a lipstick – that can be thrown away because a woman made a bad choice. A life is at stake.
The Dominion Post (28.6.13) has re-published a piece of pro-abortion propaganda, from The Times, by Caitlin Moran giving a bouquet to Texas senator, Wendy Davis.
She asserts that “for a woman to be able to decide when she will put her own life and mental health at risk is one of the cornerstone legislations of the modern world”.
Who could argue with that or that it applies equally to men?
What it ignores is that a woman does put her life and mental health at risk every time she chooses to have unprotected sex; and pregnancy isn’t the only possible consequence.
It seems to be a novel idea, these days, but what say women avoid the dilemma of abortion by ceasing to take the risks of irresponsible choices over sex?
Let’s have a little accountability from women instead of all this self-justifying rhetoric.
Moran writes of the potential harm done “when we force women to give birth unwillingly”. That potential harm gives women an even greater responsibility to avoid unwanted pregnancy.
I’m sure there will be some who think I’m letting men off the hook. I’m not. Some men do shamefully prey on women, and some rape.
I accept that all forms of male coercion, where a woman has sex without full consent, are unjustifiable. I doubt, however, that most abortions result from those sorts of situations.
Moran talks about women making mistakes and regretting it the next day. We all make mistakes and we all have to live with them. Being allowed to take a human life because of a mistake is simply a licence to murder.
Moran asserts that abortion is “an economic and social necessity”. It would not be a necessity if men and women behaved with greater sexual responsibility
An unborn child is not a piece of consumer merchandise – like a lipstick – that can be thrown away because a woman made a bad choice. A life is at stake.
The Dominion Post (28.6.13) has re-published a piece of pro-abortion propaganda, from The Times, by Caitlin Moran giving a bouquet to Texas senator, Wendy Davis.
She asserts that “for a woman to be able to decide when she will put her own life and mental health at risk is one of the cornerstone legislations of the modern world”.
Who could argue with that or that it applies equally to men?
What it ignores is that a woman does put her life and mental health at risk every time she chooses to have unprotected sex; and pregnancy isn’t the only possible consequence.
It seems to be a novel idea, these days, but what say women avoid the dilemma of abortion by ceasing to take the risks of irresponsible choices over sex?
Let’s have a little accountability from women instead of all this self-justifying rhetoric.
Moran writes of the potential harm done “when we force women to give birth unwillingly”. That potential harm gives women an even greater responsibility to avoid unwanted pregnancy.
I’m sure there will be some who think I’m letting men off the hook. I’m not. Some men do shamefully prey on women, and some rape.
I accept that all forms of male coercion, where a woman has sex without full consent, are unjustifiable. I doubt, however, that most abortions result from those sorts of situations.
Moran talks about women making mistakes and regretting it the next day. We all make mistakes and we all have to live with them. Being allowed to take a human life because of a mistake is simply a licence to murder.
Moran asserts that abortion is “an economic and social necessity”. It would not be a necessity if men and women behaved with greater sexual responsibility
June 27, 2013
It Makes You Think
In the business pages of The Dominion Post this week I came across a photo used to illustrate an article about the Wellington Gold Awards for business. The image was of three men from a web company.
They’d clearly set out to be attention-getters. One wore a Star Trek uniform. Another had a plant painted on his nose, forehead and bald scalp, along with embellishments. Adding to that, he wore a jacket with a double row of outsize buttons. The third had spectacles with triple XL frames and a silver tie.
I responded as a writer to seeing it, pondering the lengths to which you have to go in order to get news media attention.
Once I was over my teenage years, though that was slow, I knew it was no longer in my nature to dress outlandishly. The nearest I’ve come since was wearing a bowtie to work quite often. Being more of an introvert than an extrovert, that took stepping outside my comfort zone.
I acted on stage a few times in my youth but, for the sake of selling my books, I can’t imagine putting on any performance or outrageous behaviour now.
There’s a lot to be said for accepting your comfort zone, for peace of mind, or not going too far outside it. Not that everyone will agree.
They’d clearly set out to be attention-getters. One wore a Star Trek uniform. Another had a plant painted on his nose, forehead and bald scalp, along with embellishments. Adding to that, he wore a jacket with a double row of outsize buttons. The third had spectacles with triple XL frames and a silver tie.
I responded as a writer to seeing it, pondering the lengths to which you have to go in order to get news media attention.
Once I was over my teenage years, though that was slow, I knew it was no longer in my nature to dress outlandishly. The nearest I’ve come since was wearing a bowtie to work quite often. Being more of an introvert than an extrovert, that took stepping outside my comfort zone.
I acted on stage a few times in my youth but, for the sake of selling my books, I can’t imagine putting on any performance or outrageous behaviour now.
There’s a lot to be said for accepting your comfort zone, for peace of mind, or not going too far outside it. Not that everyone will agree.
