Life is just busy. That's all.

Regular readers of this blog will notice that I haven't been posting as much of late as I usually do. That's because I've been crazy busy and the blog seems to be the first thing to fall away (well, maybe not the first, that would be housework, packed lunches, and on some days, novel-writing). Apart from trawling second-hand and vintage clothes shops for the perfect outfits for husband and me to wear to the big band ball a couple of weeks ago, I have been teaching some classes. The first was when I spent a day back at my old school, the second was a continuing education night class at UC Opportunity. I guess it would be useful to tell people about these things before the fact rather than after, but that seems a little too organised, and I haven't quite got the hang of using this blog as a publicity tool.

Anyway, the point is that my headspace has been taken up with preparing for those classes and they have nudged nearly everything else out if the way. I definitely enjoyed the classes, but was also glad when they were over, as it's usually the time leading up to them that I find the hardest. I probably need to train myself to only think about them a day or two in advance, thereby shortening my anxiety and preparation time.

Next up, after one more UC creative writing class, I have the session I am chairing at the Christchurch Writers Festival, so I am still reading around that, but at least that's the kind of prep I can do while lying in bed at night.

I saw a writer friend in the weekend who will also be at the festival. He said that he had been asked to be on my panel about blogging but had turned it down. I pondered aloud as to why he would be on the panel when he doesn't have a blog and he said "because I hate blogs". Which seems to me to be the most pointless reason to have someone on a panel about blogging. It would be like having someone who hates crime fiction on a panel about crime fiction. Presumably if you hate crime fiction, you don't read it. Presumably if you hate blogs, you don't read them, so what could you possibly have to add to the conversation? Sure, it's good to have someone to play devil's advocate and ask the hard questions, but surely that is the job of the chairperson?

My reaction to people who say they hate blogs is to simply suggest they don't read them. It's like any medium - there is good stuff and there is bad stuff. Just because there are a lot of bad magzines out there, I wouldn't say "I hate magazines" and write them all off.

But maybe this friend hates them on principle because he is a columnist and he makes his livelihood this way. Blogging to columnists probably looks a lot like reality TV does to writers and actors of legitimate drama. There is so much crap out there, and people wanting to get their 15 minutes of fame without getting paid for it, that it devalues the genuine talent of people who need to make a living in the print media. But I think it is wrong to write the whole medium off.

And I guess to hear more about my thoughts on why, you'll have to come to the session at the Press Christchurch Writers Festival*.



*Maybe I'm getting the hang of this promotion thing.

Renee-Louise Carafice.

I know this is supposed to be a blog about books, but I don't remember the last time I got so excited by such an immense musical talent as Renee-Louise Carafice, and I have to write about her. I feel as though I'm in love, or at least have this massive crush - on her songs. Imagine melding Liz Phair with Joanna Newsom, but the product being even more stunning than the sum of its parts. To make a more New Zealand connection (Carafice is a New Zealander, now living in Chicago), I see her in the same vein of musical genius as David Mitchell (3Ds) and Ed Cake (Bressa Creeting Cake), with songs that reach deep inside you in a way you just don't quite understand; it's like they've always been there inside you and only now someone is pointing them out. You didn't realise they'd been missing from your life, but it's as if someone has just told you that you need air to survive, or that the ocean exists.

I feel ashamed to call myself a writer when trying to articulate how I feel about music - which is why I could never be a music journalist. The music I love best is the music I have such a visceral response to that putting it into words seems to trivialise it.

I only just discovered this wonderful musician when I heard her being interviewed on National Radio last Sunday. In between playing her songs, which I found fragile, defiant, surreal, funny and steeped in meloncholy, all at the same time, she talked. For once I was hungry to listen to what a musician had to say (unlike 99% of contemporary musicians I hear being interviewed). She talked about her time in a mental institution where she was treated for depression, and most of the songs on her debut album Tells You to Fight seem to be about that time in her life. But she talked about it in a way that didn't make me feel sorry for her; it just made me want to hear more about her way of looking at the world, a world where she rows a boat out on the ocean to sing someone to their death, or burrows far into the earth and makes a kingdom of the people she finds there.

Luckily for me, she is touring New Zealand at the moment and I went to see her at the Harbourlight in Lyttleton last night. And seeing her live just made me love her even more. Sitting there alone on the stage, swapping instruments with every song, that strange and beautiful voice... lyrics that were wickedly funny, and heart-breaking, but not just words: the melodies so weird and sad as well. The music I most relate to makes me think of my own work, makes me want to make it better, to try harder to convey a certain atmosphere, feeling, aesthetic. Her music makes me feel the way I want my books to make me feel. I came away feeling inspired.

For that reason, she's going on my list.

Thanks, Renee.

An example of some lyrics (apologies if I get them wrong, going from memory):

I will raise a bird army

they will peck you to pieces

they will tear your house down

and use the banisters as roosting places.

The wonderful video for Bodhisattva can be found here.

Describing the describer.

I didn't see Richard Powers when he came to Wellington (since I wasn't there) but I just received this from the IIML newletter: "On Saturday Victoria’s MA students had a chance to get some one-on-one advice on their novels when he presented a masterclass on narrative perspective, beginning with the notion that ‘a description always describes the describer’. Among the variations Powers offered on this theme was a scene from Damien Wilkins’ novel The Miserables, in which the main character’s view of Wellington from the deck of the interisland ferry reveals much about his state of mind."

Sounds not a million miles from describing the coffin, not the grief. I like his way of putting it, too. I think it's a great writing tip to keep in mind.

A blog I like.

I don't know why I didn't add this one to my blogroll - just forgot I suppose. But Lauren Groff's blog on her website is completely delightful. The author of The Monsters of Templeton - which I bought after reading its lovingly crafted opening chapter in the shop, and which was short-listed for the Orange Prize for New Writing - is in the late stages of pregnancy, so her blog is about books, writing and doing up her nursery or looking longingly at people drinking champagne at awards ceremonies. She really is a smart cookie and makes some interesting observations about books she's writing, reading and that are being talked about, as well as issues such as literacy and freedom of expression. She has also posted some quite refreshingly honest responses to some of the reviews her book has had (some of us try to pretend we don't read ours).

She doesn't have a 'comments' section, otherwise I would tell her I like her blog and how much I relate to so many of her posts.

Because I didn't have her on my blogroll, I only remember to look every few weeks, so there are always a few new posts to entertain me. Now I'm adding it to my blogroll. You can find links on her site to some of her elegant short stories, too, soon to be published in book form (love the cover Lauren!).

Word Clouds.

Thanks very much to Jim Murdoch for putting me on to this site - a great procrastination tool. You feed a block of text into it and it creates a 'word cloud'. You can also play around with font, colour and layout, but I think it's quite nice to see what you get in a lucky dip. This is the cloud for the first chapter of my new novel. When I get home I'm going to feed the entire Sound of Butterflies manuscript into it to see what it comes up with. I think it's beautiful - it's a bit like a list but more poetic and artistic. These are going on the wall above my computer for inspiration. Not wasting time at all, oh no.

Not Another Bloody Blog!

I will be appearing at a session on blogging with this title at The Press Christchurch Writers Festival, which runs from September 4-7 at the Christchurch Town Hall. On the panel will also be Mark Sarvas of The Elegant Variation (selected by The Guardian as one of the top ten literary blogs on the web - intimidated, moi?) and Donna Robertson from the Christchurch City Libraries blog. Please come along if you are in Christchurch and help us defend our territory!

I will also be chairing a panel of new and newish writers: Mark Sarvas, Anya Ulinich, Christine Luenens and Maxine Alterio. The full programme should be up here any day now.

Grumpy old woman moment #1.

Iconic. The most over-used and misused word in New Zealand today. Just because something is famous or unique, it does not make it iconic.

Montana Book Awards.

A quick but very hearty congratulations to all the winners at the Montana New Zealand Book Awards last night. I confess I haven't yet read Deutz medal winner Charlotte Grimshaw's Opportunity, although I have read a couple of the stories from it that I liked (and one I didn't, but so what?). My biggest and most biased congratulations to our friend Mary McCallum for picking up not only the award for Best First Book (fiction) - illustrious company on that one Mary if I may say so myself - but also the Readers' Choice award which is chosen by the voting public. What a great suprise that one was to her.

German paperback.

I just noticed that this is up on Amazon in Germany, so it must be all right for me to share! I hadn't seen this cover before, but think it's quite lovely and mysterious. It's the paperback version which is coming out in March 2009 (available here), or if you speak German and can't wait, you could look at the hardback, published by Pendo, here.

Sunday Salon

I am greedy. I acquire books at a faster rate than I can read them. This has never been a problem for me, as they have always been absorbed by the thousands of books I have on my shelves at home and therefore all evidence of my extravagance disappears. It is quite alarming then, when you move to a temporary home and only bring fifteen or so books with you, when your book collection suddenly doubles and is well on the way to tripling. So I have tried to hold back a bit, only getting books out of the library or not at all, and it has been torture, but my bank balance is no doubt thanking me. I have been walking around bookshops longingly fondling the books I would like to take home with me and love. 

So I was delighted when, after doing a reading at the local UBS bookshop for Poetry Day on Friday, I was given a very generous and welcome koha - a book voucher. With my voucher I bought two books: Rebecca, by Daphne Du Maurier, which I had checked out of the univeristy library but which had been recalled before I had made much headway into it. Since it is a source of inspiration for my new novel, I thought this is one book I should own rather than borrow. The other book I bought was Emily Perkins' Novel About My Wife. I have wanted to read it ever since it came out, but had been holding out on the actual buying of it until I knew I had the time to sit down and read it. And still it called to me...

The voucher was unexpected, so it was a huge relief to be able to purchase these two books that have been cooing my name for so long.

My greed continues. Not only did I get myself these two books, but as it was my birthday this week, I also got given two new books, both, coincidentally, by Anne Enright: Making Babies, her memoir about pregnancy and motherhood and Taking Pictures, a collection of short stories. I finally finished The Gathering and while I felt a little unsatisfied at the end, I thoroughly enjoyed the writing, and it made me want to read more of her work. Having heard her speak, too, I knew that she would be the perfect person to write an antidote to the What to Expect When You're Expecting/the First Year type baby books. I will definitely be reporting back on that one.

So I have all these new books beckoning to me, but first I have to read Petropolis by Anya Ulinich as I think I can reveal that she is one of the authors on the session I will be chairing at the Christchurch Writers Festival in September. The programme is being launched on Tuesday, so I'll reveal the others anon.