Rory B. Mackay's Blog, page 16

The new website is here!!

It’s taken weeks of work and a heck of a lot of tinkering but I’m pleased to launch my new website! I designed it myself and I’m actually really pleased with it. I don’t have a large amount of experience in web design but I think it looks quite cool. I hope you like it too! Let me know what you think and if you have any comments or suggestions.

Dreamlight Fugitive

Here’s a screenshot:

New website coming soon!

It’s finally finished, after weeks of work, and I’m really please with it. It looks good! It’s my new homepage, incorporating my old art site with information on my upcoming novel. The hardest part is writing what has to be snappy, compelling and enticing copy – it has to really shine, or else people will be immediately turned off. Sales copy is not my strong point, I suppose because I don’t have much experience with it. But I’m reasonably happy with what I’ve got, for now. After I’ve done some final tweaks, I will post a link to the new site.

Now that’s out of the way, I intend to get back to the short stories I wanted to write. I thought it would be a good idea to release some free short stories that lead into the novel prior to the release, to hopefully generate some interest. But I have no experience writing short stories, so I’ll see how I get on. I really need them to be of sufficient quality, or else it’s probably best not to bother. Watch this space!

Have a great weekend all!

“Eladria” — the first official blurb/synopsis. What do you think?

I’ve been terrible at keeping this blog updated of late. Oops. I have been busy with various things, including the creation of my new website. It’ll be online as soon as I’m able to commit to a URL. There’s an artist with the same name as me who’s already snatched the URL I wanted, so I’ve had to be a little more creative. I have a title/URL I really like — something a little off-the-wall — but I have to be 100% sure it’s one I’m going to want to stick with before I purchase it.

Anyway, on the website I’ve created a page for my novel “Eladria”. It’s kind of a teaser/preview and I’ve had to brush up the blurb I’ve been wrestling with for months. Why is writing a brief synopsis so darned difficult? I briefly considered hiring a copywriter to do it, but that’s quite an expense for me, and I’d have to know it was absolutely necessary before I’d commit to that.

Here’s the blurb. This is the first time I’ve unveiled it in public! It is, of course, subject to massive change. I’d love to know what you think of it; whether it catches your attention and makes you want to read on, or whether you think it still needs more work. Here goes:

A dire prophecy is fulfilled when Tahnadra’s royal moon is attacked and overthrown by religious extremists. Forced to flee for her life, Princess Eladria, now a fugitive in her own land, finds herself embroiled in a sinister experiment that threatens to destroy her world and countless others. 

With the barriers between dimensions rapidly collapsing, Eladria learns she must travel to the ‘forbidden land’ of Drantak, where a dark and ravenous force seeks to unleash its fury on a universe it was long ago banished from. Only Eladria can prevent a universal armageddon, but in order to do so she must confront a shockingly familiar adversary — and be willing to make a devastating sacrifice…

Gotta be able to talk the talk!

Last week I was out for lunch with some friends I hadn’t seen in a long time and they asked how I was getting on with my book. Now, I’m usually reasonably good at holding a conversation, but for some reason when it comes to my creative endeavours and things that are quite personal to me (as they inevitably are), I somehow freeze up.

When talking about my book, my mind kind of froze and I started wittering away, aware of the fairly blank expressions I was getting back. I’m good with words — written words. If I was to write about my novel, and explain why it’s a story that’s close to my heart and why I felt compelled to write it, I’d probably come up with something fairly thoughtful and compelling. But, put on the spot like that, I just ended up sounding vague, nervous and flustered. I’m pretty much the same when it comes to talking about my visual art. Eloquence goes out the window and I struggle to express why I do what I do, and why anyone should be interested in my work. I get shy! I’d rather someone else presented my work for me. But that, alas, isn’t likely to happen anytime soon.

That lunch date made me realise the importance of being able to talk about my work with confidence, passion and enthusiasm. Any artist or writer has to cultivate a degree of ‘salesmanship’, which is something that doesn’t come naturally to many of us. As with any skill, it takes practise, and that’s what I’m going to spend some time working on.

If someone gave me sixty seconds to present my novel in a way that sounded compelling and exciting, what would I say, and how would I say it?

I think that’s an excellent question (and challenge!). I’ll get back to you on that…

Waiting and ruminating…

I’m still in the waiting zone right now, with regard to my novels. Last month I sent off a batch of submissions to various literary agencies and the responses are gradually trickling in…sadly thus far in the form of standardised rejection slips! At this point I’m quite familiar with them. But I have received some encouraging words as well, including one agent who told me my work was imaginative and well-written, just not what they were looking for. Another agent scrawled the word ‘promising’ after she signed the rejection slip, which definitely lessened the blow. I appreciate the encouragement so much, especially when it’s such a long, hard and discouraging slog. I don’t think there’s ever been a time when it’s as hard to get an agent and/or publisher.

When I was younger, I had a great many romanticised notions of what it was to be a writer. The reality of it is as far removed from those rose-tinted preconceptions as can be. In reality, it’s a long, hard, solitary endeavour, with little in the way of external support, and it calls for a great deal of courage, conviction and discipline (perhaps even obsession!) on the part of the writer. The courage is necessary to surmount your insecurities and self-doubts in order to externalise your inner world, dreams and most cherished imaginings into a tangible body of work that will then be shared with other people.

The moment you attempt to get the ‘Industry’ involved (here, read my work! Like my work! Publish my work!), you immediately open yourself to being shot down. The Industry is cutthroat and cruel. Even writers that are successfully published are chewed up and spat out, ten a penny. The Industry doesn’t care about your feelings, or how much of your heart and soul you’ve invested in that pile of printed pages. All it cares about is its marketability and monetary potential. To say the odds are stacked against you is the understatement of the century.

Yet we persevere. Writers delve within and endeavour to share something of themselves with the world: something they feel for whatever reason needs to be shared. They endure the hardships and the brutal knocks and in the end, they get there. In some respects it’s becoming easier than ever for writers to get their words out into the world now that ebooks and Kindle are taking over the publishing world. This is an avenue I’m certainly considering, although like many new writers, I first want to try going the traditional route. We’ll see how it goes. I’m endeavouring to embody the karma yoga mindset: the action is up to me, but the results are not up to me. I remain optimistic and hopeful, yet detached. I know I’ll get my books out there into the world and it’ll be in the perfect way, at the perfect time…

Just because

I’ve discovered that it’s important not to lose the fun in our endeavours. At the moment I’ve been busy submitting work, attempting to learn new skills and marketing strategies, editing and proofreading and figuring out how I’m going to publish certain books. It’s easy to get overwhelmed and bogged down by such things, by too much focus on oh-so-serious goals, results and the ongoing process of production. What started off as a joy can all too quickly become a monotonous drudge. The creative spark still yearns to express itself, but instead gets stifled and suffocated.

That’s why, last week, I allowed myself time to sit down and just paint. I had no idea what I was painting (that was part of the fun — and looking back at what I’ve did, I still have no idea! Just delicious abstract weirdness, I guess!). These paintings were for no one’s eyes but mine. Perhaps they might lead into something ‘sellable’, but that wasn’t my intention at all.

I just wanted to transport myself back to that state of mind I experienced when I was a child, where I simply painted, drew and wrote exactly what I wanted to, what I felt like doing, for no other reason than the sheer joy of it. It’s easy to lose that innocent, pure spontaneity of expression and creativity. I found it not only immensely enjoyable, but quite healing as well. A part of my soul felt renewed and refreshed; I felt alive again! That feeling of joy and aliveness is worth so much. All the goals we pursue and everything we do is basically motivated by wanting to feel good. But very often all we have to do to feel good in the moment, is to slow down, take a few deep breaths, feel the stillness inside and then do what our heart compels us to do. That’s where creativity thrives and amazing new ideas and born. If you don’t already, why not try it yourself?

Preparing to submit!

It’s been a while since I’ve updated this, but I’m still here! I’ve been busy preparing my latest manuscript (my fantasy novel ‘Eladria’) for submission to a shortlist of literary agencies and publishers.

I went through this process a couple of years back with my first novel, and unfortunately didn’t get very far. I found it a frustrating, depressing and truly disheartening process. I heartily emphasise with what J.R.R. Tolkien reportedly said as he embarked on the road to publication: “I have now exposed my heart to be shot at.”

Bang!

I learned a lot from the submission process the first time around: namely, to keep persevering and never take it personally (although if people are repeatedly telling you that your work is terrible, you’d probably best look into that! Fortunately, what feedback I did receive was positive, just unfortunately “not quite what we’re looking for”). I’d invested so much of myself in my first novel that each rejection slip was almost like a personal rejection. At times I almost lost faith in my work, and myself.

But a professional can’t afford to take such a view. It’s never personal: it’s just business. It’s the nature of the beast! My first novel was a little difficult to classify and even harder to succinctly convey in a couple of sentences or paragraphs. It’s still very close to my heart and although it wasn’t picked up by the agents or publishers I tried, it’s far from over and I still fully intend to get it out into the world in some way. Partly due to design, my second novel is a little easier to pitch, and has what I believe is an enticing sales hook.

I’ve spent days printing out sample chapters and refining the synopsis and query letter. I’m just about ready to cart it all down to the post office, send it off, and sit back and wait! This time, I have hopes, but no expectations, for now that I’m a bit older and wiser, I’ve detached myself from the process. It is just business and either they’ll will see the potential and want to take on the project, or I’ll find someone else to do it. Or I may even do it myself, which I think could actually be rather fun!

I’ll be sure keep you updated. There’s a new website in the works and some short stories I hope to publish online for free. The wheels are in motion

Is art important?

As an artist who hasn’t exactly made it ‘big’ (think considerably less than big), I was recently questioning my future and wondering whether I should be devoting my energy to something else. As the economy continues to flounder and as our esteemed leaders continue to make things worse, people are tightening their belts and luxuries such as the arts are obviously the first things to be abstained from.

Always one to question just about everything, I found myself wondering whether art really matters. Is it really important? Is it worth pursuing? Or is it just a self-indulgence that has no real value to our lives? (When considering this question, I was reflecting not merely on visual art, but also music, prose and poetry, sculpture, film-making, etc)

I instinctively feel that art has importance. But there are two kinds of art, I think. There’s art that’s created simply to make money and is tailored to a specific market or audience and which usually adheres to a specific formula while perhaps simultaneously attempting to pass itself off as something ‘different’. This might sound exceptionally snobbish, but to me, that isn’t art, it’s merely product. Most of the music industry is product and in our X-Factor era that’s a fact that’s hard to dispute. I feel the same about a great deal of the publishing and film industry. It’s driven by profit and the desire to sell; any claims of wanting to find genuine artistic innovation are usually just lip-service.

Product  generally has mass-market appeal and is largely consumed as entertainment. Nothing wrong with entertainment, I like to be entertained as much as the next guy (although maybe perhaps not QUITE so much), but entertainment rarely transcends its function. There are certainly lots of instances where it does, where films, music and books actually do take risks and wholly deserve to be called ‘art’, but in the vast marketplace it’s still the exception rather than the rule. I’m not decrying this, simply pointing out a fact. People need to make money and they do that by selling products to as many people as will buy it. It’s the way the world works.

With regard to the visual arts, it’s a little harder to find the distinction between art and product. It’s a grey area. Artists need to eat like everyone else, so they usually need to have some kind of target market in mind when they create. The quality and importance of the work is entirely subjective and that’s probably the way it should be.

I was at an exhibition just last week and it reinforced my feeling that in order for art to be taken seriously as ‘art’ it helps if it’s grim and bleak. In order to be a ‘cool’ artist the general criteria seems to be that your work has to be edgy, dark and a little depressing or — even better — repulsive! Now this could all just be in my head, and I don’t even take my own thoughts and opinions that seriously any more, so I urge you not to, either. But it’s possible that even some of the most fiercely independent and ‘out there’ artists are still just creating stuff that they consciously or unconsciously think fits a formula of ‘cool’ and ticks the right boxes.

Myself, I really don’t care what’s cool or not. Generally I’m drawn to create things that inspire people rather than nauseate and repulse them. I mean, life is difficult enough, why should art confound that by making us ever more miserable? But that said, when I view someone’s work, even if I don’t like it, I still usually respect it as a creative endeavour, as an expression of the artist and an artistic statement — whether or not I agree with that statement.

So why is art important then?

It’s not important simply for making statements. Anyone can make a statement and like anything that’s mind-generated, it ultimately doesn’t mean that much. A lot of the time it’s straight from the ego, and there’s already enough of the human ego stamped over this world of ours. Art in service of the ego may still be art, but it’s not, in my view, important art.

I believe art is important when it has a transcendent quality; when it points us beyond the surface-level miasma of humdrum human existence — what Buddhists refer to as samsara — and hints of the possibility of something greater, something beyond. I believe art, in its highest expression, serves to remind us who we are. Through images, stories, narratives and sound, it reflects back to us what we truly are. There’s a place for examining the surface-level world of maya, but we don’t really need art for that, we simply need to look around us or turn on the six o’clock news.

But it’s possible for art to take us deeper into ourselves, inviting us ask questions about ourselves and life itself. Who are we? Where did this consciousness come from and where is it going? What is the world? Where did it come from and where is it going? Is it everything we’ve always assumed it to be, or is it possible we’ve somehow misperceived the universe, ourselves and our relation to it?

I’ve come to learn that the answer is never in the answers. It’s in the questions.

At best, I believe, art can make us reflect upon these questions; questions that serve to bring us back to ourselves. Just about everything else in the world is pulling our attention outward and distracting us from OUR SELVES (which is actually the very thing we’re truly seeking in life — direct, conscious awareness of our own being).

Some time ago I was sent one of those email questionnaire things and one of the questions was “do you prefer art or technology?” and I was amazed at the number of people (practically everyone) that said technology. I probably shouldn’t have been, for nowadays technology is almost like a drug or religion for many people. There’s nothing wrong with that in itself, but what can technology do but distract us from ourselves? It’s never going to compel us to venture inward and perhaps, in time, stumble upon the in-built but long-dormant self-realisation mechanism — which is the only legitimate end to the cycle of suffering that drives us to seek out distractions in the first place.

I still feel compelled to create art, to write and create music because I feel something within me wants to be born into the world. I don’t think it’s in service of the ego or just to express emotions or viewpoints (although the latter point I suppose you could debate). If there’s any purpose at all behind what I do, it’s because there’s some element — and it’s not really on a conscious level — that would like to use this channel to spark something in others. A spark of inspiration, of remembering, of insight? Or just an opening that might prompt further questions? I’m not entirely sure. I don’t feel it’s entirely ‘me’ that’s controlling the process. It just is. It’s unfolding as it wants to.

I first had an inkling as to this when I began my first novel, a number of years ago. I thought – “yeah, my novel is going to change the world and make people happier and more enlightened.” I think my ego crept in, in the nicest and kindest possible way. Now, I have no such expectations. I don’t know if what I make will sell or interest anyone, much less whether it will enlighten them. That’s really not my business and I no longer have any investment in the outcome. I just do what I feel compelled to do, because I have to and because a little part of me would wither away if I didn’t. A rose doesn’t bloom in order to make people happy and get some kind of a reaction. It doesn’t hold itself back, either. It just does what it does, because…!

So that’s basically why I feel art is important. There are many artists (not necessarily mainstream ones or ones with great followings and publicity) whose work serves as kind of opening into something greater. It can serve as a catalyst that makes people stop, reflect and open themselves to new possibilities and new ways of seeing life. It can pierce the dream bubble and spark something quite wonderful, enabling the viewer/experiencer to blossom themselves. Maybe they’ll then bring that same essence into the world where it will have a similar effect on others, whether it’s in the form of art, behaviour, actions or simply BEING.

No motives though. It just happens — or it doesn’t. And it has an effect on others and the world — or it doesn’t. Art is alive and when it comes from a place beyond the ego and beyond consumer concerns and market pressures, it has the ability to change us and to change the world. Not change us in the sense of making us something other than we are, but simply removing the clouds of illusion that currently obstruct so many of us from being what we are. Art then can be a great wake-up call, which will resonate for those that are ready for it and go straight over the heads of those that aren’t.

For now, if I’m able, I’ll continue to respond to the creative impulses that compel me to create art in different forms, knowing that the impulse to create is there for a reason, that I’m not truly in control of it and that the reasons and outcome are way beyond my control. Some artists fall into the trap of ego, mistakenly believing it’s them that is responsible for their creations. But for me, it’s the humblest job in the world. I don’t own creativity, I can’t control it and I’m fully aware that it’s not really me that does anything (and frankly I don’t even consider myself particularly talented).

It just happens and I’m very cool with that, because it feels good. I’m really very clear on that point — and it’s a strangely liberating realisation!