Lisa Walker's Blog, page 9

A few off-cuts of deer sausages – stuff I found on the cutting room floor

It is quite instructive looking back at old computer files from a novel in progress. It’s a bit like baby photos – oh, I never imagined it would grow up like that! Today, I went back into a file from 2008, which is when – apparently – I first started writing the book that is now ‘Sex, Lies and Bonsai’. Only four years… nothing in the scheme of things.

In the finished version the protagonist, Edie, recites a short poem titled ‘Three deer and a sheep’. This poem started life as a short story, which became shorter and shorter then morphed into verse. It was inspired by a deer hunter I met in New Zealand who shared his recipe for deer sausages with me – add one sheep for every three deer.

I thought I’d share a little of the story here, and if you’d like to see the finished version, you can read the book preview here. The story is written from two points of view – a single mother and a deer hunter.

 

Three deer and a sheep

 

It rains a lot in Glenorchy. The clouds descend over the mountains bringing with them a damp chill. But today – today, the fog lifts. I step onto the veranda and the mountain tops are covered in a dusting of snow. The sun shines through gaps in the clouds and for the first time since I got off the bus, I have a feeling that things might work out.

But then I see the deer.

It is lying on my veranda with its neck twisted at an unnatural angle. I step closer, not breathing. Blood seeps from a wound in its chest. I look around quickly, but there is no-one there. Then I see the tire tracks leading down my driveway, disappearing into the morning mist.

Someone came early this morning and dumped this dead deer on my veranda. But why? Is it a threat?

 

I’d had a good night’s hunting. Almost got swept away in the river though. Had to open the doors as I drove through to let it run through the car or it would have taken me with it.

I felt sorry for her, a woman on her own. Thought she could use a bit of meat. She looked pale. The kids did too. There’s a lot of iron in venison. If the kids don’t like venison she can make it into sausages.  It’s a bit lean though, deer. For the best sausages, you really need to add a sheep. That’s the go. Three deer and a sheep…

 

And there is so much more where this came from…

 

The ebook version of ‘Sex, Lies and Bonsai’ goes on sale tomorrow at Amazon and iTunes. Print version available in a number of locations January 1st! 

The Shy Erotic Writer (how do you explain to your mother that it might be best to skip a page?)

Monday was a very exciting day. A box of my new book ‘Sex, Lies and Bonsai’ arrived on my doorstep. So excited, so very, very excited. I felt like a kid on Christmas Day. And – this is probably going to sound a little pathetic – I took myself off to bed to read it. Yes, I have read it before… But not in a book!

 

So, there I was in bed, happily reading away until I got to page 34. And then I encountered a word that stopped me in my tracks. Here is the strange thing, the whole time I was writing the book, and even editing it, I somehow managed to convince myself that no-one else was ever going to read it. It’s funny the games your mind plays.

 

Because if I’d been thinking of all the people who might potentially read this book, I never would have left the ‘c’ word in. Yes that word. Only once. On page 34. And there is a context – it’s not gratuitous. But still.

 

And now, of course, I am thinking about my mother. And my mother-in-law. And all my mother-in-law’s friends who are going to get a very poor impression of me because I used that word. Not to mention the neighbours. And my kids’ teachers…

 

I’ve had a few people tell me that my last book ‘Liar Bird’ was a bit raunchy. That worries me because if ‘Liar Bird’ was raunchy, that would make ‘Sex, Lies and Bonsai’ the new ‘50 Shades of Grey’. Which it totally isn’t  Really, there’s just the odd bit of sex here and there and it all advances the plot. As much as I might like to get on the erotic fiction bandwagon I think it’s taken off without me.

 

I’m open to suggestions from anyone as to how to tackle this delicate issue with regard to my mother and my mother-in-law. I could:

 

a.. pretend that the book never got printed due to tough economic times.

b. get out the whiteout, or

c. add a note with an apology from my editor, explaining that she made me do it…

or perhaps

d. flee the country never to return.

 

What do you think?

Sex, Lies and a Book Trailer

Opinion is divided about book trailers. Some think they work, some think they don’t. Some, like Jonathan Franzen, are fundamentally opposed to them, but do one anyway. See Franzen’s grouchy take on a book trailer for ‘Freedom’ here.

Me, I have no idea, but I’ve done one anyway. Why? Just because it’s fun. And maybe they work… Who knows?

I don’t have any high profile friends, like Gary Shteyngart, who called on James Franco, Jeffrey Eugenides and others to act in his video for ‘Super Sad True Love Story.’ But what I do have is… a talented teenage son. Lucky me.

So here’s my trailer for ‘Sex, Lies and Bonsai.’ It’s thirty seconds long. It’s set in Lennox Head (as is the book). It’s got SEX. It’s got LIES and there’s even a BONSAI. Featuring me on the computer keyboard, me on vocals, with all cinematography by Tim. (here’s his YouTube site)

What do you think about book trailers? Do you reckon they work?

And a date for your diary for those in the area… ‘Sex, Lies and Bonsai’ will be launched by Jesse Blackadder on the 13th of December (5.30pm) at the Northern Rivers Writers Centre in Byron Bay. RSVP to infoadmin@nrwc.org.au

A comedy in letters – ‘Where’d You Go, Bernadette’ by Maria Semple

Where’d You Go, Bernadette is the second novel by American author Maria Semple, who has worked as a writer for TV comedies such as Saturday Night Live and Arrested Development. I don’t watch the box much, but if the writing in this book is anything to go by, maybe I should. Yes, I’ve become an instant fan of Semple’s work.

Bernadette Fox is a reclusive genius, an architect who hasn’t worked for many years. She lives with her teenage daughter Bee and her husband Elgie in a rundown mansion in Seattle. While Bee, a gifted child, attends the local Steiner-type school, Bernadette makes enemies by refusing to volunteer. ‘So neither of you believe in community?’ one of the mothers asks her. ‘I don’t know if community is something you do or don’t believe in,’ Bernadette replies.

Elgie is a Microsoft superstar. They hung a poster of him from the building after his talk at a technology powwow was an internet sensation. Semple’s take on the Microsoft culture in the town is very funny. Conversations with MS (as they say) employees end in one of two ways – with paranoia and suspicion, or in gobbledegook tech speak, ‘My team is working on an end-user, C Sharp interface for HTML 5…’

Meanwhile Bernadette becomes involved in a feud, resulting in a mud-slide into her neighbour’s house during a high-profile ‘Mercedes parent’ brunch. Trying to keep her life in order, Bernadette hires a virtual assistant from Delhi. But then, as things start to go terribly wrong, she vanishes while on a voyage to Antarctica.

Bernadette is an epistolary novel – a collection of emails, letters and blog posts tied together with narrative from Bee as she searches for her mother. This could have been a hodge podge, but instead keeps the story lively and allows for the kind of gaps in the tale that the reader can enjoy filling in.

One of the things I especially liked was that the protagonist was a feisty, individualistic, fifty-year-old woman. There aren’t enough of them in fiction, I say. As well as being hilarious, the story is poignant, raising questions about the effect that squandering their talent has on women. The bond between mother and daughter is also lovely. I intend to hunt down Semple’s previous novel, This One is Mine, as soon as possible.

It’s getting hot out there – review of ‘Madlands’ by Anna Rose

Madlands is a behind the scenes look at the ABC documentary – I Can Change Your Mind on Climate Change. To produce the program, climate change campaigner Anna Rose and climate sceptic and Liberal Party powerbroker, Nick Minchin lived in each other’s pockets for four weeks. They travelled from a parched farm in New South Wales to a climate station in Hawaii to the Barrier Reef. The premise of the program was that each of the protagonists would get the chance to try to change each other’s minds by introducing them to experts in their field. This is Anna’s account of that journey.

Anna Rose has been an environmental campaigner since the age of fourteen. She has always been driven, she says, by a sense that she can make a difference.

While I already had an interest in climate change, I found this book an eye-opening window into the world of the climate sceptic. If over 97% of scientists are convinced and countries like Tuvalu and Bangladesh are feeling the effects of rising sea levels, how is it that many people are so apathetic?

While most European countries are embracing renewable energy, Australia, the third most energy hungry economy in the world, lags behind in its dependence on coal. With the possibility of transitioning to renewable energy within ten years, Anna believes it is time for those who say we can’t to get out of the way of those who can.

Well written, engaging, and filled with the author’s passion and urgency, I found Madlands a page turner. Driven by a sense that time is running out, Anna Rose spent her honeymoon in Byron Bay writing this book. As she says, ‘The best time to act was yesterday, but the second best is today.’

On a personal note, I am currently attempting to write a romantic comedy about climate change as part of my Masters in Creative Writing at the University of Queensland. Possibly a strange idea, but someone had to do it.

This is my 12th review for the Australian Women Writers Challenge. 

Death stalks us from behind at the Brisbane Writers Festival

One of the highlights of the Brisbane Writers Festival last weekend was seeing Chris Turney talking about Antarctica. My interest in Antarctica is spurred on by the fact that I am currently writing a novel set in that location. This is a bit of a challenge considering I have never been there. I live in hope!

Chris has just written an account of the 1912 season in Antarctica which saw no less than five expeditions set out on a journey of scientific discovery.

Famously, of course, the Norwegian team led by Amundsen won the race to the South Pole, with the British expedition led by Scott getting there one month later and perishing on the return journey. Also on the move were a German team, a Japanese team and an Australian team, led by Mawson.

Antarctica, Chris told us, didn’t even begin to be explored until 1820. Before that, it was just shown as ‘unexplored territory’ on the map.  Venturing down there, then, was the equivalent of space travel – a voyage into the complete unknown.

They gnawed on huskies, they spent the winter on a ship bound by ice, they were blown off their feet in blizzards… And despite all that, they brought back data which changed the face of science.

Antarctica has inspired some truly great lines. Who can forget ‘I am just going outside and may be some time.’ (Oates) ‘Food lies ahead, death stalks us from behind.’ (Shackleton) or ‘Great God! This is an awful place.’ (Scott).  It seems like the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration brought out the inner poet in them all.

The image below was taken by Frank Hurley. Hurley was a photographer on Shackleton’s expedition who dived into the icy water to save his photographic plates from their ship which was crushed by sea ice and about to sink. They don’t breed them like that anymore.

On a slightly less heroic note, anyone living in the Clarence has no excuse not to join Jessie Cole and myself at a library visit. On Friday 14th we will be at Iluka, Yamba and Maclean and on Tuesday 18th at Bellingen and Grafton. There will be refreshments (no huskies)! What more could you ask for?

Let’s hear it for wildlife

This week I did a guest post on Shellyrae’s Book’d Out blog. I talked a bit about how I came to write ‘Liar Bird’ and how much it was inspired by wildlife and my experiences working for National Parks and Wildlife.

It has been nice to see readers commenting on their own wildlife experiences. We’re so lucky to live in a country where wildlife is still such a part of our lives. I know that isn’t the case everywhere. Yesterday afternoon I went for a walk and was treated to two humpback whales breaching over and over again. On my way back I passed two kookaburras calling in a tree. A young girl was standing down the bottom copying their call.

This morning I was startled in the kitchen by my regular visitor, a large water dragon, who seems to believe our house is actually his. Over the years we’ve lived here, I’ve frequently had a possum in my bedroom, a couple of carpet pythons on the verandah, several magpies stalking through the house, and a delightful green tree frog in the toilet. I’ve seen wallabies on the beach, an echidna in the garden and of course the dolphins that duck underneath me while I’m out surfing.

In some ways ‘Liar Bird’ is a celebration of the joy that wildlife adds to our lives. I’ve included a picture here taken on a wildlife survey in the Border Ranges National Park last year. In my bag I’m holding a native rat, which is weighed and recorded before release. The border area between Queensland and New South Wales is one of the most biologically diverse areas of Australia and also very beautiful, so where else would I set ‘Liar Bird’?

Do you have any interesting wildlife experiences to share?

I’ll be reading from ‘Liar Bird’ at the Brisbane Writers Festival on Saturday 8th of September – 6.30 pm – Breezeway, Maiwar Green (it’s outside the Gallery of Modern Art). The reading is part of a showcase of students of creative writing from a range of universities (I am currently studying at the University of Queensland). It should be good fun and is a free event, so if you’re at the festival, do come along.

There are a couple of copies of ‘Liar Bird’ to give away over at Book’d Out, so head over there if you’re keen.

Men and Babies – ‘Sweet Old World’ by Deborah Robertson

David, a freelance journalist and writer, lives on Inishmore, a harsh island off the coast of Ireland.  A place where people come ‘for the wild beauty and the five thousand years of history, the Celtic legends and the burial sites of saints. They’re coming for the drink and the sex and the craic.’ David has come to live there in order to help his divorced sister, Orla, run a guesthouse.

David is forty-three years old. With many unfulfilling relationships behind him, he is now yearning for something more. Not satisfied with being a much-loved uncle to his three nephews, he wants a child of his own. ‘He is full of hope. And this is what he doesn’t talk about: he wants to be a father, now, not later. He doesn’t want to waste one more minute of his life.’ David is conscious of aging – he has a back injury incurred on the same night he realised his desire to have a child – but thinks there is still time.  He imagines a phantom child running through the house.

When Ettie, a seventeen year old Australian girl, has a serious accident after leaving David’s house, her mother, Tania, comes into his life. As a tentative love unfolds between them, David dares to imagine a long-desired future – a baby in his bed. But Tania starts to question his motives and, even to the reader, they are not totally clear. Small events begin to erode her trust.

The author has said that she started this novel as a story about three sisters grappling with infertility, but became bored with it, realising that the male view on this subject was one that interested her more. The desire of single, heterosexual men to have children is not one that is much explored in our culture.

Sweet Old World is Deborah Robertson’s second novel. Her first, Careless, was short listed for the Miles Franklin in 1998 and she has also published a book of short stories, Proudflesh.

                I read this book in one flu-bound day in bed and shed a few tears at the end. Like all good fiction, Sweet Old World drew me deep into another reality. Beautifully written, complex and subtle it explores a little known emotional realm. A lovely, lyrical, heartfelt story about loss, longing and hope.

This is my 11th review for the Australian Women Writers Challenge.

I will be at the ARRA mega book signing event on the Gold Coast this Friday (17th). Do say hello if you’re there!

Lights, camera, um… (coming out in Byron Bay)

Well, I’m starting to recover from the excitement of the Byron Bay Writers Festival. Highlights for me:

-   Rubbing ink off Isobel Carmody’s face in the book signing tent.

-   Sitting next to Tom Keneally in the book signing tent. I was able to reminisce briefly about the fact that I taught him cross-country skiing back in the late ‘80s. He says he can ski properly now and just got back from Vaile. Tom Keneally is like Peter Pan – he never ages.

-  Participating in the debut author’s panel with Amanda Webster, Shamus Sillar and Jessie Cole. Such a lovely and receptive crowd and a varied group of authors. Amanda Webster made me cry, Shamus Sillar made me laugh and Jessie Cole had me in awe at the quality and impact of her writing. A special thanks to those two lovely ladies who couldn’t decide whose books to buy afterwards and so bought them all – we love you!

-          Panel-wise, I especially enjoyed seeing climate change campaigner Anna Rose and chatting briefly afterwards. Anna was excited to learn that I’m currently writing a romantic comedy about climate change. I was excited to learn that her book Madlands, is practically a romantic comedy itself – it ends in a wedding!

What else? John Marsden drinks Coke Zero, Hannie Rayson can put on lipstick without a mirror, Andy Griffiths has the biggest book signing queue, Leanne Hall gets into character by crawling around on soccer fields at night, and I still haven’t met Martin Chatterton, even though he lives in the same small town as me.

And I think that might be about it for my brushes (and lack of brushes) with literary fame and glamour. Now I can retire with relief back to my cave.

Photo: Debut authors before the panel

Do I really need to ditch the tracksuit?

This year I decided to take a year off my community relations job in order to focus on my writing. Being a full-time writer sounds kind of glamorous. To me it evokes an image of a sultry looking woman in black beret, a cigarette holder hanging out of her mouth as she bangs away at her keyboard in a funky cafe. That woman may be out there, but she isn’t me.

As I write this I am wearing tracksuit pants that seem to have the remains of last night’s dinner on them, I haven’t washed my hair for at least a week, I am drinking Coles brand green tea and I haven’t shaved my legs since, um…  Too much information? Sorry.

I suspect that many writers are like me – we sink into total slobdom when not required to make appearances in the world. Which brings me to the Byron Writers Festival.  I have attended at least ten years of the festival, and this year for the first time I will be on the other side of the platform looking out. Yay!

I’m looking forward to it, but it also strikes me as being a strange thing – to herd a group of people who are more used to conversing with imaginary friends than real people onto a stage. While writing requires inappropriate thoughts to be shared – it’s called honesty – other forms of communication don’t always call for this. Perhaps this is what makes writers’ festivals good entertainment. Often you are watching someone who is totally unpractised saying whatever comes into their head. It can be refreshing.

So anyway, I’m planning to wash my hair in a couple of days and shake the dust off a nice frock. I think I might have some lipstick stashed away somewhere. And as for what comes out of my mouth? We shall see…

 

Catch me looking well groomed (or at least clean) at the Byron Writers Festival 1.15 Friday and 10.45 Sunday.