Roguish Day One: A Fishbowl Story
Musings on the first day of my Queensland Writers Centre Fishbowl Residency Experience
Today’s journey was classic storytelling at its finest, with multiple threads illuminating and interconnecting.
This morning, for the first time in half a decade or more, I departed the house and took the train to “work”. I’m not complaining about working freelance: the freedoms it provides do wonders for your mental health. But said freedoms can become a slippery slope.
Working from home enables the ability to do what you want, when you want. Get out of bed, take a step or two and sit at your computer, boom! you’re at work. Or… you could go watch TV.
This lack of physical workplace and set schedule works for creativity, but it is discipline’s kryptonite. Ergo: working from home is a procrastinator’s heaven and hell.
The luxury of procrastination has resulted in my first novel being in limbo for months. Floundering unloved in a cloud of digital excess.
“How to Boil An Egg” is my burner novel. Thus named because it is my “practice” novel, and once finished, it will be sacrificially burnt. I’m writing it so I can learn how to write a novel. Specifically, the drudgery of turning up day after day and committing myself to the act of writing. The art of creation.
I’d written over 20,000 words before hitting the metaphorical brick wall. 20K of nonsense.
While I hate to sound overly boastful, having reacquainted with it this morning, it’s pretty good nonsense. It has potential. I like it. It’s not an idea I would die for, but that’s why it was chosen to be my burner.
It’s an incredible relief to know that this book will never see the light of day / face criticism / fail to meet expectations.
It’s the only way I was able to start writing in earnest. By taking the mindset that this was the thesis for my university-of-the-real-world course on novel writing, my imagination was set free and the words began flowing.
But unleashing creativity is not enough. It takes commitment to scale a mountain. One foot after another doesn’t sound too difficult, but when you look at the number of steps required, and combine it with the knowledge that the oxygen gets thinner the higher you go … and along the way you see the rotting bodies of those who came before. Those brave souls who tried their hardest yet failed nonetheless.
Evil Homer sits on my shoulder gleefully sing-songing “You could always turn back. No-one knows you’re climbing the mountain. The snow will cover your tracks. It was a good dream, but it was just too damn hard”.
He’s got a point. On top of being overwhelmed by the scale of my proposed journey, it’s a tad underwhelming to know I’ll be planting my flag to an audience of one.
If I’m not going to release this book, why bother writing it?
And snap! I’ve started to overthink the thoughts I had to distract me from thinking.
The conundrums created when you are trying your best to trick your brain into believing it’s doing the right thing. Reverse psychology is very hard to do to yourself. Yet I managed to do it for decades when I was a smoker (“I can’t quit - I enjoy it.” Yeah, good one), so why not now?
Because writing a novel requires accountability.
Even knowing I have to finish this book before I can start any of the stories I really WANT to tell, finding the discipline to wake up and walk to my computer and write … well, it collapses when Bubbles the cat rolls around lovingly on the floor begging for treats and tummy rubs.
And even if this IS my burner book. Even if I am the only person who will ever read it. I’m important enough to matter. I deserve to commit to finish this for myself.
I’ve also got to prove that I can write a novel. It’s all well and good to have the ideas for the one about the serial killers who cross paths, or the distopian future where growing clones is cheaper than allowing people to reproduce and their lives are worth next to nothing, or the ….
ENOUGH WITH THE DISTRACTIONS!
So this morning I was ushered into my new “work” location for the next 10 weeks … a literal fishbowl located on the edge of the Queensland Writers Centre, which itself is nestled within the State Library of Queensland.
I am on show to the world.
Come and gawk at the lost soul, a fish out of water, isolated in a sea of books in the quest to create his own!
How I wish, how I wish you were here
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year
Running over the same old ground
What have we found?
The same old fears
Wish you were here
~ Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd, Lyrics by George Roger Waters
I’m not a massive Pink Floyd fan, but “Wish You Were Here” took residency in my cranium from the moment I set up my desk and gazed out to the rows of books that bound to the horizon. Being in a glass house is a good reminder that I need to focus, otherwise I’ll never get anything done, let alone write 60,000 words and finish this book.
I want to sell bags of peanuts so I can watch the passer-bys argue over whether it’s OK to feed the exhibit … but food and drink aren’t allowed in the library. My ingenious plan to leverage my situation crashes and burns before it can fly.
It’s also distracting me from the aim of the game. The reason for sitting here in the first place.
I’ve committed myself to a contract with QWC. I can use their facilities for 10 weeks with the goal of completing my first draft (hopefully more than that, but it’s good to have a goal), and in return I should share the experience.
Which brings us to this piece of introspection. Day one. How’s it going?
To be honest, from down here the top of the mountain doesn’t seem that far away. I’m confident in being able to reach it. I’ve personalised my desk with paraphernalia to remind me to focus on what’s important.
The BrainCation bookmark: to remind me of my goal to become a professional creative writer;
The Mini LEGO™ Galaxy Explorer: to remind me even the tiniest detail can create a lasting connection; and
And a LEGO Han Solo with his pistol drawn: to remind me that HAN SHOT FIRST!
Meaning: don’t f*k with the story. Treat your audience with respect. Han’s a scoundrel who does the tough jobs no-one else will touch. He looks out for number one. Be true to your characters and your story will follow.
And I’ve taken an hour of today’s precious six to write this update.
I should get back to writing my novel and stop distracting myself by writing this article about the process that led me to this point where I am writing about the strategies formulated to break the procrastination and set actions into motion to once and for all to find a way to finish writing my novel.
Thus endeth today’s lesson.