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Actually/that/just/seems/kind of/a little

No, I didn’t forget to finish that sentence. Because it’s not a sentence. It’s a collection of words with which I am currently engaged in mortal combat.

Every writer has words like these, words they throw in all over the place which serve little purpose, words which can usually be cut to make the writing tighter. These are some of mine, and now that I’m in the final stages of my novel and I’ve done all the major cutting and rearranging and wailing and gnashing of teeth, it’s time for the small stuff. It’s time for these words to be hunted down and destroyed.

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That Was The Year That Was

It’s been a year since I started this site, and this ‘notablog’ thingy, so I thought it was time for a recap. Here are my stats for the year:

1) The Good:
books published: 2
books contracted but not yet published: 2
grants awarded: 1
poems published: 5 (not including Cleanskin poems)
school presentations/workshops: 14
poetry readings: 3

2) The Less Good:
books written but not contracted: 3
poems rejected: 7
stories/articles begun but unfinished: 8

3) The Utterly Random:
references to my dog and/or breakfast cereal choices: 0
days I missed having to get up in the dark and take the bus to ‘a real job’: 0

As you can see, getting published doesn’t mean everything you write will then be published. This is as it should be. I still have a lot to learn about writing and who I want to be as a writer. This year, I’ll continue to feel my way and no doubt collect a few more rejections in the process. Hopefully, a few acceptances too.

So, that was the year that was, that was. All things considered, it’s been a pretty good one.

A Legend In My Own Lap Lane

I was recognised today, at my local pool, while doing laps, by a lifeguard. “Hey!” he said. “I had to ask – are you that writer-woman that was in the paper a while back?”

I was. I am. How utterly strange.

In less appealing news, it seems that I do resemble the hideous photo of me which appeared with the article – at least when wet, kind of bald-looking and with odd lines etched into my face from swimming cap and goggles. Make of this what you will.

In a stunning twist, my newest fan managed to get through an entire conversation about children’s writing without mentioning J.K. Rowling or the phrase, “Hey! Why don’t you …?”. Well played, lifeguard, well played!

This One Time, At the Bookshop

I spent some time in Victoria recently, dog- and house-sitting for my brother in a lovely little town called Kerang. While I was over there, I stopped by some schools, which was great fun. And I also popped over to my hometown, Bendigo, to catch up with friends and family. One day, I had lunch with an old friend and then we strolled down to Dymocks so she could buy my book for her niece. Sadly, they were sold out (sold out!) which made me rather happy. So she ordered a copy and we strolled some more and we ended up, as bookish people do, at a secondhand bookshop. And I ended up, as children’s writers do, in the children’s section. And then I saw this:

f0511-annabel2ndhand

Annabel, secondhand! I’m choosing to believe that someone loved her so much they just had to share her with the world (it’s my delusion and I’m sticking to it!).

Going For Broke is Done

I’ve just sent back what I think are the final revisions on my next junior novel. Going for Broke (one world record, 52 tiny bones) will be out with Walker Books Australia in May next year. In a curious twist, I have actually done an illustration for the text (although once my editor sees the extent of my artistic skill, she may well place a panicked last-minute call to an actual illustrator).

A Waddling in the Distance

The penguins are coming …
The penguins are coming …
THE PENGUINS ARE COMING!

Not for a while, though. In fact, there’ll be a boy in a souped-up shopping trolley arriving first. Which makes sense when you think about it, given how waddly and slow our penguin friends are.

None of that makes any sense, I know. But it’s all I can say right now.