Thursday, September 5, 2024

Words and Healing

 Recently, I went to the Romance Writers of Australia (RWA) Conference. It's been a long time between conferences (I think the last one I attended was 2016... but maybe there was one after that because it seems way too long ago!). 

I had a LOT of work drop on me right before I left, so I wasn't fully committed to the conference. I had to skip a lot of sessions, but those I did ranged from ho-hum to freaking fantastic!

Those fantastic sessions empowered and reinvigorated me. They made me feel like I could write and that my stories were worthwhile. I'd forgotten that feeling.

One session was by best-selling author Elana Johnson who was visiting from the US. She did a plenary session on Sunday morning called, I Don't Just Write Kissing Books. Sunday mornings are tough because the Gala Dinner was the night before, and sometimes it's been a few big nights for people who are usually introverts. So to make a Sunday session a highlight of the conference is a feat.

She spoke about romance books being healing - for the characters who need their Happy Ever After which requires change and healing of internal and external conflicts (the key to romance stories). But also for the readers, who see this healing happening in the characters, which gives them hope that whatever needs healing in their lives can be healed and happiness is possible. What blew my mind was that it's healing for the writers who craft this healing in their stories.

OMG!

My mind exploded because I suddenly saw what I was trying to do with my writing. So many of my stories are about healing some aspect of myself or the society (as I see it).

I thought I was writing to understand. That's always been what I imagined fuelled my writing. But I sat there and saw that I write to heal. I write with the hope of healing.

I haven't written since the 2019/20 disasters - bushfires and floods around me, and a pandemic in the world. I've struggled with finding meaning, value, healing, hope. All the things I need to write stories. So... if I couldn't find these things, there was no way I was going to be able to write those stories.

Which led me to think that over the last few years, I've been healing. 

Healing disasters within me. Wounds that had sat unacknowledged for years. Things I had never consciously thought of, thought through, or looked at. But when the world came crashing around me, I had to go back and look at those unhealed wounds.

I remember in the 1980s, and the Iraq War (I think it was) where I thought the end of the world was nigh. That wound got papered over. I put salve on it, a bandaid, and it kind of healed enough I could mostly forget about it. But those wounds I mostly forget about never heal properly or truly are forgotten. So it came up again and again and again. 

Life seems to be a spiral of learning and healing (or mine anyway). Each time it comes around differently, I'm healing a slightly different aspect of the same issue. I've healed a few of these aspects in the last 5 years.

Facing them, working through them, and healing them has led me to have hope again. I can see a future. I can see things that I feel can change. 

Imagine my surprise when I left conference with these thoughts in my head and went off on a writing retreat - and WROTE!

I'd intended to write a Nature Journal because stories were not happening. But I sat down to do that and a person appeared and began to speak to me - person being a character. She had a story she wanted to tell.

My writing process is a weird one, but more and more people are speaking of similar weird processes now, so I didn't try to change it. I let my process flow. 

It's a discovery process. I don't know anything about anyone or the story until the words are outside of me. When someone asked what I was writing, I was honest and said I didn't know. I had a female character who was grieving. 

After a couple of days, she was healing. Then a man appeared. I thought I was writing to explore affairs because he was kind of shady and secretive. I talked about writing Erotic Taboo stories.

As the week went on, and the words flowed, I realised that I liked these characters. Maybe it wasn't an affair. Maybe they like each other too.

I have 26 000 words written. I'm interested to see where they go to, who these people are, what they're going to show me about myself, society, and healing. Or are they going to show me something altogether different?

So, I'm back home... drowning in work... but once I get that done, I'm keen to get back to my story, my characters. I'm keen to see what I've learned in my time away from writing. I'm keen to see if I can identify any healing.

I shared a scene with a friend who said there was light in it. Which filled me with joy, because I feel lighter now than in the past, more hopeful maybe it is.

So, let's see where this takes me.

But huge thanks to Elana Johnson for her words on healing. They made me cry. They made me laugh. They made me love. And that made me open my eyes and see more.

Writing people are the best!

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

I'm still here... sometimes...

Oh boy, it's been a while.

I was down at the river the other day, intending to head to the beach, but there were heaps of Black Swans on the river, and then a Caspian Tern was feeding. I had no hope of going further!

The Caspian Tern is quite a lot bigger (and somewhat slower) than the Little Terns I've been trying to capture, in a photo as they dive for fish, over summer. So, it was fabulous to have a tiny smidge more time to track the bird, and sometimes focus on the dive.

When they started to dive in amongst the swans, I got excited. The swans didn't seem to care at all.

Some days are just incredible. I pinch myself when I get to spend time with some of nature's spectacles.