Walking Together, We can Climb a Thousand Mountains
One of the strange things about being a writer is that you can have an incredibly busy, full year without the apparent trappings of that productivity. Instead, you’re left with more transient things: the reevaluation of beliefs that no longer serve you; an increased presence in the present; words found, but not yet published; the deepening of work relationships and friendships, both of which cohabitate more and more the more you lean into your passion as your chosen line of work.
In June, 2021, I went to the Varuna— The National Writers’ House, met some incredible authors of note in Karen Viggers, Rachael Mead, Jo McClelland Phillips, S D Hinton, Jack Vening, Amanda Niehaus, Adele Dumont, Ava January, and Wendy Dunn, and came back with a new full-length manuscript. I’m developing that manuscript as we speak thanks to one day a week at The Centre for Stories, and in time hope to share it with you. What was it like to write 77,000 words in 14 days? Exciting, deeply heartening, and strangely familiar too, as if those words were waiting for the right time and the right state of flow in which to surface. They came freely and unconditionally; in 2022, I hope to share my approach to flow states with other writers too, to help empower their creativity and let go of limiting patterns and beliefs.
In my mentoring capacity, 2021 saw the well-deserved debut publications of clients David Allan-Petale, Emma Young, Melanie Hall, Zoe Deleuil, Emily Sun and Amy Su-May Tan. It also saw the debut of my first ever mentee, Sam Van Zweden. What was it like to see so many writers find their wings in this way? Incredible. Unbelievable. Unforgettable, and deeply rewarding.
This year, I also worked with incredibly brave writers under trying societal conditions including Bianca Millroy, David Wildsmith, Mark Keenan, Ben Mason, Charlie Scott, Prue Mercer, Annie De Monchaux, Janey Runci, Beverly Almeida, Sharon Barba, Penny Gibson, Jake Dean, Elisabeth Passmore, Ross Van Brink, Bill Morton, and Rae Hilhorst. I hope these developing writers become deservedly familiar, and I was grateful for their passion and dedication as they strove to write unique, memorable fiction in unprecedented times.
This was my first year not facilitating the Writers Victoria online short story clinic, which I began doing in 2015. As such, it felt a daunting prospect to do this solo, and see how that took shape. It turns out things worked just as well, if not better, and I’m grateful to all the writers who sought out my guidance and support on this often lonely and sometimes impersonal writer’s journey.
Next year, I launch The Subcommittee Boot Camp, a way to combine two my most successful approaches to writer support and encouragement in 2021. The Subcommittee, a private online support group for writers will remain, now joined with line-feedback and assessment reports on writers’ work to supercharge their development.
Coming up, I faced a lot of indifference as a writer, and often, downright antagonism. It’s my belief that the writer’s life need not be so lonely, or so cruel. Indeed, I belief that with patience, self-compassion, and dedication we can reach our goals while growing, healing, and leaning in to more fulfilling, inclusive ideas of literary success.
Throughout all of this, the song 紅日 (Red Sun) by Hacken Lee kept me company, and reminded me of possibility, growth, and things bigger than just me. Indeed, the title of this post is from the English translation of the song’s lyrics. It’s quite the beautiful image, don’t you think?
It’s been quite the year, it turns out. I’m glad me being me makes a difference in the world, and I can’t wait to see what’s next on this journey.
