Death

I've not been around much and I've been struggling to find words, my voice, something important to say. The world seemed to fall into chaos and I went with it, down the rabbit hole of, "What's the point of it all?"

I haven't answered that question yet... but I've been playing with lots of different thoughts and ideas.

This year though, my Dad died. It's been over 20 years since my Mum died. I was thinking about the differences. I'm almost at the age Mum was when she died. So death is right up there in my thoughts.

To assist with my recovery from death and illness, I went on a writing retreat. I began to write about death. It's been such a healing process... even if I've shed more than a few tears as I've written.

Death, like sex, is another "taboo" subject that as a society we don't talk about in any depth. We've very good at skimming the surface (i.e. giving the basic details, asking the acceptable questions) and we don't go any deeper. 

A friend asked me the other day how I was doing. I said I was going okay. She then stopped me, and asked me how the grieving process was going. I haven't been asked that before. It was a much deeper question and took more time for me to think of a response than my usual, "I'm fine, thanks."

Do we have spaces in society to speak about death at a deeper level?

I think that's where I want to focus my thoughts and words. Hopefully I will be back soon with more thoughts and questions. 

And, just a note, it's not going to be dreary or sad, well, not all the time anyway. I think death and life go hand-in-hand, so we need to bring all emotions to the death conversations. 

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!

Huge big sigh

Now my posts are being put behind 'sensitivity' warnings. So far only 1 post... and it's one of the tamer ones about women (women-on-women sex). 

I don't understand the world any more... although, I wonder if I ever did?

So much is messing with my head. 

The age old sex is terrible, we must hide and shame it; yet violence is on the nightly news uncensored.

Women are being murdered by their exes; but men need to be helped to see their kids, mend their relationships. Family court overrules standing AVOs/DVOs.

Victims are being revictimised by the court system over and over again.

Why would anyone put their head up and complain about something that needs to be better in society... when they're piled on, abused, shamed, annihilated.

I picked up a book because this quote was on the cover - Why are we made to fear the witches, and not the men who burned them?

Why is society the way it is?

What can I do to change it?

I think I've been quietly trying to change the world around me for fifty years... and change is so slow that mostly it seems like it's not happening.

I'm disheartened, frustrated, annoyed, but trying so hard to see the good, the joy, the changes, the people doing so much for others. I do need to focus on the good.

There are so many advocates for women who have been hurt, abused and victimised. People who are being voices when others can't speak. These people are angels.

There are those being outspoken and opposing shame and stigma around sex and sexual choices. More angels.

There is acknowledgement of gender fluidity, people allowed to marry whoever they love, rights being restored to many who had few, voices being allowed to be spoken and heard.

There is change happening.

I need to remain positive that life will be better for those to come.

Censorship & Writing Struggles

For longer than I've been Cate Ellink, I've struggled with the abundance of shame, horror, and shock piled on me because I want to write about sex. I am Cate Ellink because of this; my family's reaction to me using my real name was extreme, and not something I expected. And in 13 years, it hasn't lessened.

Today I typed in my website address. There's the adult warning (as usual) and I click that. But now I get something where I must sign in and my sign in must have a credit card linked to it so that they know I'm over 18.

My heart breaks. Again.

Who will ever find my website?

I can't post links to my blog posts on social media because it shows a broken webpage image and no one looks at those (and you'd now have to log in, etc etc).

I can't advertise my book covers using social media ads because there are naked chests.

The use of the word 'virginity' in the title caused so much trouble with advertising that it never happened (it couldn't happen).

I pay the same amount of money to host this site as I do my other one. One is freely open to all, and this is shoved in the shadows in the corner and hidden.

And fuck... I haven't killed anyone. There's no aggressive violence or hate views expressed. No, those would be fucking okay.

I talk about sex. A freaking natural act that somehow causes extreme reactions - more so than death, violence, or hate speech.

My writing has been down the gurgler ... and it's no wonder. Why would you write when you're so shunned for what you write about?

The fight to normalise nature is fucking exhausting.

Why can't we ban the bloody awful things human beings to do each other - like war, violence, rape, hate, abuse? Why is nature so shunned?

If my website goes...does it matter? Probably not to anyone but me. It's a record for me, of my journey along this path. I've so many incredible memories of sharing discussions, thoughts, discoveries, and nature. 

I'm sad today. So sad.

Remember me...?

Oh My Goodness!

How on earth do months vanish? How have I gone from blogging 3 times a week to once every 3 months?

I don't know what's happening to me but I cannot fit everything in. I'm not even sure what I've taken on that is taking up my time...but it's a struggle to get through what I need to do, without getting too caught up in the want to do list.

Are you like this too?

When I do up my bills, I see that work has increased. That's a good thing for my debts, bills, and expenses :) but not so good for my mental health and sanity! 

I've probably been walking and taking photos more too. When work makes me cranky, I grab my backpack (camera bag) and off I hike. I come back ready to face whatever crazy task I have to do.

I have a few scribbled words still happening when I get a chance.

I haven't typed up a whole notebook of scribbled story from my retreat...but it's on my To Do list (the Want one, but maybe I need to move it to the Need one!).

So, that's me.

How are you doing?

Here I am on a walk on the poor flood affected beach near home. It's winter and a cold wind, even if the sun is shining!

Fearless Friday - writing

You're probably aware that writing and I have not been too friendly these last couple of years. Ideas are there but not the words to flesh them out. I've been taking photos instead and doing little scribbles and just seeing where life takes me creatively.

But I've been invited to a writing event. My heart is so full of joy and excitement. I've been preparing for some time now, but in the back of my mind I was scared it would get cancelled or borders would close down or something disastrous (and you know, that may still happen, so I'm not over the fear of that yet!).

In this whirlwind of writing joy, I began to write again. Just a few lines, just for a few days, but words have started the slow trickle out.

And the story I've begun has been percolating for some time - way back when Team Player was being 'birthed'. It's a Glebe Gannets story, with one of the guys we met briefly in Team Player. A young guy, like Lyle, called Ashton.

His story idea came to me in a whoosh! He's a bit different - he's blunt, unapologetic, a footy nerd - some might say he's 'on the spectrum' but I don't want to label him. He's just uniquely Ashton. And he's young, I mentioned that, right? Somewhere between 18 and 20. So young.

But he meets this woman. God, it's so intense because she lets him be. He's usually told to shutup, be different, calm down, whatever. She just smiles and lets him talk. She lets him be Ashton. But she's not young. She could be his mother but he's not worried about that - she is though!

It's a story about shame - her shame. Her shame at wanting a younger man. Her shame of being seen as a footy groupie at her age. Her shame of sex. Body shame. Ageing shame. So much shame.

I'd tried to write it but it was bogged down in her feelings of inadequacy and awfulness - even though she was a successful woman. And I hated that. I couldn't write it.

When I began recently, I began writing as Ashton. Wow! What a change. I can depict her as a strong sexy incredible woman. That's what he sees. That's who is attractive to him. And her fears have to come out verbally, because he's pretty shit at picking up cues.

I don't think I've written (anything published) from the male perspective before, and I hadn't been comfortable doing it either. But Ash is a chatterbox and he's happy to tell this story. He wants to burn through this bullshit shame. He wants to love fiercely. He doesn't give a shit about age.

Maybe the last few years of no words has been about me changing my perspective and breaking out of my own boxes with how I write. Maybe I stuck myself in a place, and even if I wasn't completely happy there, I told myself that's how I had to write. That's how it worked. That's how the world worked. I have a few story ideas that aren't 'normal'. That are breaking out of what I usually do. It's thrilling and terrifying all at once.

Now, as I'm getting ready to go back into the writing community, I'm hoping that I can hold this new me. That I can keep this new (for me) way of writing and not get lured back to that corner where I hid.

So, wish me luck! I hope Ashton will keep yabbering at me and keep me away from shame and society's view of the non-sexiness of older women :) :)

I went to the footy last weekend too - I wonder if being in a crazy-high footy crowd also boosted my writing mojo!?

It's been a while...

Oh boy, blog, I've neglected you for a long time. 

Words aren't doing it for me at the moment - writing, speaking or reading them.

Why? 

I think it's a processing thing in my brain. I noticed when I was learning new things about writing, I couldn't write until they'd settled into my head properly. And I think this is similar.

In the last 2 years, life's jumbled itself all up. Well, actually, that's not something new for me :) But it's not just my life this time, it's the life all around me that's jumbled. And that's taking time to process.

I was thinking today, that maybe there is nothing to process. Maybe I should be looking at/after myself and working on me, and forgetting about the wider world.

I'm one of those people who can see most sides to things, especially when I remain somewhat detached and unemotional. So, I can see why people are upset about everything that happening. I can understand why people take things as a personal attack, rather than a wider societal thing. I see people's view when they say something is their #1 priority - even if I don't share that view. I can understand why people are deperate for a vaccine, and I can understand when they don't want one. And that's been hell in my brain.

My poor brain is like an old computer churning through data trying to make sense and see a way forward in the program.

Sometimes, there isn't a way forward that harmonious or even a satisfying compromise. I think this is where my words are stuck.

And so I'm falling into nature and capturing the joy I feel there in images. It's like every day is a Wildflife Wednesday.

And I apologise for not being here, not writing, not finding words or stories. I'm managing the chaos of life my way, so I can find joy every day and continue to find happiness in living.

I hope you're also finding pieces of happiness and joy even in this chaos.

Australian Magpie

Currawong

Australian Pelican

Rainbows in waves

Windblown sand

Driftwood

Silver Gull

Sunday Story - me and romance

I read a book this week that i was loving - witty banter, unbelievable chemistry, a huge conflict. I was so sold on it. I was devouring it, loving every word...

and then...

I hated it.

OMG. Why?

It's got so many fabulous reviews and readers love it. It's by relatively 'big-name' romance authors. I should have loved it because everyone else seemed to be, so what happened to me?

The female was disempowered. In a book that was all about the hero helping her and empowering here, the conflict disempowered her in such a way that it crushed me. It seemed to go against everything that it had been leading up to do... but it was subtle, and kind of went with the conflict, so it worked... just not for me.

I don't want to bag out the book, or single it out because romance is full of books that do the same thing, but I do want to explain my issue. So I'll try to do that in general terms.

Hero and heroine are both outsiders in their families. They bond because of this and the issues that arise from the ostracising. The heroine helps the hero in quiet, private ways, and in public, he pretty much sorts his own shit out.

The heroine... well, she doesn't sort her own shit out. The hero 'saves' her. Not only does he cover for her, he then tells her brother that she needs help and insists that the mother does too. So the brother 'forces' the heroine and her mother into counselling, which sorts all the issues out. Does the brother also go to counselling? NO. Did the heroine take charge of her life and organise her own counselling? No. Did the hero help her in private as she'd done for him? No.

The men sorted their own shit out, themselves, in private spaces. 

The women had to deal with theirs publicly, and then go to counselling that had to be forced onto them, and the males involved did not need this counselling.

Why do we (as women romance writers) do this?

We are perpetuating the "useless" female stereotype that the patriarchy dishes up to us.

Can't we do better??????

I know the conflict doesn't happen on a grand scale unless this all gets aired publicly... but do we need that conflict as readers? Do we need to have the women humiliated and then saved by the men they love? 

*sob*

This is why I don't fit easily into romance. This is why I struggle to read the most popular romance titles.

I want to empower the females in my stories.

I want my women to save themselves.

I want them to be as strong as their men, or stronger.

It may have taken me a bloody long time to work out exactly what was fucking my brain up with romance, but I think I'm getting it worked out. My idea of romance is something completely different to the genre and the fairy tale.

I need to write what makes my heart sing. That's what I'll be doing. Proudly. With my brave pants on!

How do you like your romance?

Saturday Soapbox - Diversity

Representation of a diverse population/experience is not something that's done terribly well within our society. History is painted by the 'winner'. Recordings are made by the wealthy/powerful/influential, and are often distorted from reality. There's been uneven representation of gender, culture, reality, etc etc.

It's something that is being called out and identified in this current climate, and that makes people uncomfortable, especially if you're sitting in a position where you view the representation to be fairly good.

I'm in one of those positions - except for my femaleness, I'm in the 'majority' for many things that are represented.

To understand the need for diversity, I have to put myself into uncomfortable positions or take my mind into those areas that I've tried to forget. I want to try to explain this with some instances and examples.

I travelled overseas - ages ago, when you could still do that! I was young and had next to no money, so I went the cheapest way I could but guided by my travel agent's recommendations. I had friends in Jamaica I was visiting, and I was booked on a flight from Miami to Jamaica on, I think it was Jamaican Air or something like that (it was a long long time ago!). I was pretty naive. So, the first thing that struck me on my trip is that I forgot that Aussies call things by different names (e.g. lemonade was a blank for the air hostess, but 7-Up she recognised and I got my drink). McDonald's isn't truly the same all over the world - the sizing in the USA was unrecognisable compared with Australia. The toilets worked differently. Then I got to Miami and the street signs were in a language other than English. Next day, I got on the plane for Kingston, Jamaica, and as I was taking my seat, I realised my whiteness. I was different to almost everyone on the plane. This was good to notice and become accustomed to, because for the next 2 weeks I would rarely mix with white people, and I would learn what it felt like to be 'different'. At times I barely noticed it. At other times it was scary because I was treated differently because of my skin (e.g. I was targetted for robbery, foiled thankfully. I was followed. People tried to extort me. I paid extra for things that my local friends were not charged. I was ignored, looked down upon, refused entry to places). Don't get me wrong, I had the absolute best time (because I was an Aussie and as soon as I spoke, my Aussieness overrode my whiteness - because of cricket and beer!) but it was the first time I ever realised that people judge according to skin colour.

Years later, I lived in a rural town with a large Indigenous population. Indigenous people had jobs in various places around town, they belonged to sporting teams, they mixed in town, and I didn't see anything that indicated any segregation. I held this view for 7 years. I changed jobs and worked for an Indigenous organisation. I thought I'd changed towns. Nothing I knew held true any longer. I was stunned by the racism, segregation, judgement, language, ostracising. Nothing had prepared me to have my views shifted so drastically. It was horrifying. I was horrified at myself and my naivety for (still) not seeing how much colour affected the world I lived in.

Let's change from colour and move to writing. When I wrote for myself, I wrote to explore all manner of topics, subjects, thoughts. Then I joined a writing organisation and moved towards publication - and what I wrote and wanted to write, was not going to get my published (which was my goal). That was rather shocking. So I changed. I got published in ebooks. Then what I wrote was suitable for ebooks, but not for print. I had to change for print. And somewhere along the way, I began to question why I needed to change what I wanted to write, how I wanted to write. I was being 'shoe-horned' into what a gate-keeper deemed acceptable. 

I never ceases to amaze me how many times I need to learn these lessons about diversity. I swim along until I get hit by something that affects me. And those hits hurt. They shake my soul, make me question myself and what I believe in, and have me asking, "am I good enough?" and "do I fit here?" Those aren't inclusive questions to have to be asking. Those are questions that immediate alienate someone.

And yet, aside from being female, I am a part of the 'majority'. If these things hurt me, how much worse must it be for someone who has less of the 'major attributes' that society deems 'normal'?

Diversity needs to be normalised. We need to accept people as they are. Not single them out because of a difference.

But how can we do this, when we don't even realise, much less acknowledge, that we have inherent judgements for difference?

Do you have views on diversity, inclusion, acceptance, or non-acceptance?

Phallic Friday - fantasies and writing

I dropped off the earth for a while - or so it seems anyway.

Sorry to leave the blog unattended. How have you been? How are you coping with lockdown/COVID/life in a pandemic?

I've realised something that I've always known, but somehow it was never important before. I have a lot of friends overseas. I've always kept in touch with them in random sporadic times, but lately, it's been a WhatsApp chat every few weeks, a Facebook message weekly, some way of getting in touch to make sure they're okay (we're okay; because they're checking on me too). It's odd to go from once a year contact, to much more frequent. Most of these friends I've been friends with for many many years. In some cases nearly 30 years. It's weird to think that we've always kept in touch, for 30 years, and sometimes our paths crossed only briefly. But these people are important, even if they live across many oceans! Do you have connections like that too?

Oops! I didn't come here to muse about friendships. I was coming to speak of fantasies. I've been thinking a lot about them recently. I've been writing a strange story where many people are fucking one person. And as I write each scene, I'm completely surprised by what comes out of my fingers/brain. I have a character name, maybe a bit of a story for them from an introduction chapter I started with, but it's bare bones. So then I put them in a room alone with the sexual receiver...and I see where it goes.

Mostly I let things flow because once my brain comes in and starts censoring, then all writing stops. I have 3 or 4 scenes written now, and my brain is having a bit of a melt down. The things I've written, it's wondering where they've come from. Do I really have such fantasies?

Consciously, I didn't think so...but subconsciously, I must have entertained the idea at some stage to write it.

How do I feel about that?

Well, there's two of me here to answer that!

One of me says: Holy shit. You freak. How the hell can you come up with that shit? You don't want people to know that you know/think about this stuff. Remember when you shocked XYZ with that other scene? Remember when so-and-so said this about you. Stop! Stop! Stop for god's sake.

The other part of me goes: Well, fuck, that's a bit tame. Why didn't you take it further? And how come you stopped there? And does she really only want one partner, couldn't;t we do a few more in here, and if not people then sex toys? You've gotta make this juicy. Get some more stuff in here. Now.

And that's my fantasy life to a tee. One part of me is slamming the brakes on hard, while the other part is trying to jam down that accelerator and get going as crazy as possible.

And that there is why my brain struggles to write. This to and fro inside my head is always happening. It drives me crazy!

One day, if you're shocked by anything I write, remember this post and know that there's a part of me who is also so shocked they want to crawl away and hide!

Pockets of Joy is OUT!

After a few weeks where I messed up and messed up and messed up...I finally got it right!!!

POCKETS OF JOY is done! 

Here are the covers and some sample pages.

If you'd like to buy the printed book, more details are here:

http://www.catherineevansauthor.com/pockets-of-joy.html

It's in the IngramSpark catalogue if you're not in Australia or would like your book shop to order them (goodness knows which mistake is in there, but hopefully the final version with both authors and a proper blurb - I didn't realise I needed all that when I was setting it up for a trial run for me. OOPS! Such a learning curve. BUT LET ME REASSURE YOU, the final book is right because I've got a box of them here! It wasn't going out if I'd messed it up totally.)

And why did I collaborate? Well, a heap of reasons. One was that I needed a website that didn't have sexual content, so anyone could look. Plus, there's still a stigma attached to "erotic" and "sex", which apparently stops people from wanting to buy/look/sell/discuss books by Cate. I can't say that leaving Cate's name on there brought a lot of relief/happiness ... but I'd already compromised by collaborating, I wasn't going to be completely silenced. And don't we have more to worry about that sex!?

Stay healthy, stay hopeful, stay safe and sane.

Cate xo

Sunday Story - The White Girl

I'm a big fan of Tony Birch. His latest book is The White Girl, and it's beautiful.

He writes about topics that are difficult, e.g. domestic violence, child abuse, poverty, and this one is the Stolen Generation. But his genius is that he writes about these topics from the point of view of love.

It's not what you expect. And yet, it is how you get through difficult times or difficult things in life.

The love of a parent for a child, or a child for a parent. The love between siblings. The love of friends. The love between family members.

In each instance, the love and care and support each receives, makes their world a better place.

This is the gift that Tony Birch has, to see that love and to shine a light on it.

It can be a fierce love or a gentle love but always it's a protective love. Love that makes the world a better place. Love that makes life tolerable and sometimes beautiful... even in a situation that seems unbearable.

Deep friendships.

Strong familial connections.

Love.

It makes the world go around.

In The White Girl, the love is focussed between a grandmother and granddaughter. But there's also the love between mother and daughter, friends, a community, a race.

Don't be mistaken, there are some horrible moments, awful people, terrible events, but seeing them through the story about love, makes them less of a focus. They're still there. They're still awful and confronting and horrible. They still show what a bloody awful society we are. But love gives hope - hope that things can and will change. Hope that one day love might rule the world.

I saw Tony Birch speak at the Wollongong Writers Festival and he spoke of love, but also of fear. His conversations about fear really hit me.

Often the awfulness of the world comes from fear - fear of the unknown, fear of loss, fear of having less than another, fear of change, fear of others... so many fears.

I hope one day, we can all live from a place of love and not fear. Like Tony Birch shows with his every story.

Weird Wednesday - Pockets of Joy

Sometimes things happen in the strangest way.

We've had a hell of a lot of bushfires in Australia this spring-summer, which I'm sure you know about. Although my little village wasn't affected, quite a huge proportion of the area around me was burnt. I was really struggling with the loss of lives, the widespread destruction, the uselessness I felt, and the horror of it all.

I hate feeling like that, and I know I can spiral into negative thought loops that just drag me down and down and down. So I needed to do something to kick me out of that...and I thought it might help others too.

So I dug through some old photos and took some new ones, and began putting them on Facebook, and sometimes Instagram. I called them Pockets of Joy. Sometimes you can't find joy in everything, you've just got to find a tiny piece.

You know I take weird photos if you follow Wildlife Wednesday, and people seemed to enjoy that quirky view I sometimes pick up. I kept putting photos up, each day throughout January.

At some stage a few friends started saying I should make a book. That they'd buy it. Someone even said they'd buy copies for gifts.

And on the January long weekend, I remained at home (on fire watch) while family went away. I was planning on a huge writing weekend...yet, I found myself collating photos, creating a book. I spent 2 blissful days creating. I sent it to a couple of people, got some feedback, kept fiddling and creating.

It's been an absolute pleasure to create this. I love playing with the photos that make me smile. I've even enjoyed culling and swapping and changing book sizes and shape. I have draft after draft after draft. More feedback.

This is what I have so far...it's not the final product...just the latest draft. An A5 sized book that I hope I can print in an affordable way so Pockets of Joy is available for anyone to buy.

And maybe if it's not exorbitant, I can get extra copies and drop them down the coast into bushfire affected towns to give people a pick-me-up.

So...not the usual Cate thing...but not so weird either.

I'll let you know when it's available! And I'll show some sample pages. Stay tuned!

Sunday Story - The Wife and The Widow

Last year at StoryFest, I took my husband to a panel of crime writers because he reads crime and I wanted to show him what this writing world was about. He'd read 2 of the 3 panelists, who were Candace Fox and Michael Robotham. The third panelist was Christian White, who we hadn't heard of. By the end of the night, we wanted to read his books. He was a great speaker - humble, quick witted, relaxed, knowledgeable.

So, I bought both his books for Mr E for Christmas - The Nowhere Child, and The Wife and The Widow.

When Mr E reads a book, he puts it down and I say, "How was that?" and he replies, "Yeah, okay." That's pretty much the same regardless of what book he's read. I could spend a day talking about a book I've loved, and he gives maybe a few more words than 2...but not many! So when he finished The Nowhere Child, put it on the couch next to me and said, "Can you read this so we can talk about the ending?" I was on it. I put aside what I was reading and read it.

Then he was reading The Wife and The Widow, and he gasped and said, "Oh, I didn't pick that twist." Now, he never gives away anything when he's reading, so you can imagine how eagerly I needed to get my hands on that book - even though I was reading the other one! LOL.

So, The Nowhere Child stalled a few times for me. I'm a picky bitch when I read, and I've read a lot of crime/suspense for many years, so I'm probably very picky. The ending that totally through Mr E wasn't such a shock for me because one of the reasons I un-stalled at one point about halfway in, was because something triggered my mind and I began to unravel the plot. So, although it was good, I wanted better.

AND CHRISTIAN WHITE DELIVERED!

The Wife and The Widow had a much much tighter narrative. I commented on this to Mr E when I was about halfway through. He didn't respond (which is normal). But when I got to the plot twist, I gasped. I sat in that total stillness of OH MY GOD. My mind ran back over the very tight narrative and the clues were all there, but I didn't catch them...even though I knew there was a plot twist that blew Mr E's mind.

I was looking for it, waiting for it, expecting it - and it blew my mind.

If you're looking for a really good crime suspense story, The Wife and The Widow is brilliant, and I highly recommend it.

I can't wait to see what Christian White delivers next book.

Have you read this?

Sunday Story - Shame and workshops

Oh, my poor neglected blog.

The end of year seems to have a craziness all of its own...or maybe it's me! Anyway, I'm here to catch up a bit.

The Wollongong Writers Festival workshop on Shame, presented by Lee Kofman, was amazing. Not exactly what I thought it was going to be, because I didn't think properly. Lee writes memoir and creative non-fiction. So I should have made the leap that the Shame workshop woudl be along those lines...ha ha ha, I completely missed that. So I was the only fiction writer in the group. But it didn't matter. My mind was opened to a new-to-me genre.

Lee gave some recommendations for writing through your shame, which resonated for sex scene writing. She suggested first drafts should have everything in them, written as if no one is ever going to read it. When you go back to edit it, then think about publication, a focus, how you want it to appear, and what you want to say exactly. It's far easier to omit than to add in extras.

Shame was an interesting topic. Everyone feels shame, gets uncomfortable or scared. The trick to dealing with it is to face the fear, expose what you're comfortable with, and be brave. In sharing, you may alleviate someone else's agony.

The other people in the course were amazing writers. Lee had a great knack for encouraging us to share our writing exercises (the 5 or so minutes we had to scribble to her prompt). I noticed in my Erotic Writing Workshop that getting people to read their work wasn't easy, but Lee was so clever at this. She made sharing seem like something you wanted to do and were honoured to speak...even the reluctant speakers :) I have to brush up on that skill she had. I think a lot of her technique came because she shared her work right up front, and invited everyone to share. So the seed was planted early. I need to do this in the future.

The rest of the Festival was brilliant too. I'm often ho-hum about going to writing events but I had such a great time I'll have to change my thinking.

Have you been to any great events lately?

Phallic Friday - workshops

The South Coast Writers Centre and Wollongong Library have been hosting an Erotic Writing workshop for the last few weeks, and tonight is our 3rd session.

For the first 2 weeks, we discussed excerpts, articles, and the bad sex awards. The first week we focussed on erotica, but since most of the people were writing romance, the second week we looked at romance sex scenes (sexy and erotic stories). It's been a lot of fun - I've enjoyed discussing sex scene writing with like-minded souls.

We've talked about taboos. And discussed how some subjects (e.g. In The Romance of Lust, which was written in the 1870s, the main theme is incest) and how reader perspectives change with time. One participant noted that 20 years ago she may have just felt it was ick, but now in the time of #MeToo and the prevalence of child abuse discussions, it made her sick to read it. I wonder if it would even be published today?

These conversations have been so rewarding, thought-provoking, and fresh. I don;t think I have words to describe how freeing it is to sit around and discuss sex scenes with people who are keen, interested, and have well-thought-through opinions on sex in society and in literature.

We haven't done any writing or sharing as yet. So this week, I've a bunch of writing prompts to kick us off to writing our own sex scenes.

But I ran into an issue with getting prompts. Sex writing and reading and inspiration has become so accessible with computers and devices, that I didn't really think through the whole issue of how to have photos available, sitting on the table for inspiration. We don't have any photo places near us, only big stores with photo kiosk things. And those touch screens you have to use to get your photos printed...well, everyone sees them. See my issue?

I wrangled it so I could print when Mr E was with me. We could then both stand in front of the screen so no one accidentally got an eyeful. But he's hasty, and he clicked on the T&C before I could read them, and I blurted out (in a hushed whisper), "Wait, I wanted to check it was legal for me to print these." I thought Mr E was going to bolt. But he hung in there, and I hoped that our covering up the screen and the printing collection box, would keep us out of trouble. And it did!

So, I'm off to the workshop armed with writing prompts!

And next Friday, I'm doing a workshop on Shame with Lee Kofman as part of the Wollongong Writers Festival. I think I need to work on my shame!

Phallic Friday - Erotic After Dark Workshop

Erotic After Dark is a workshop, hosted by the South Coast Writers Centre and Wollongong Library that's beginning next week, find out more here. If you'd like to book, the link is here.

This is a series of four gatherings to work on and discuss erotic writing. Too often this sort of writing is shunned and not talked about, but I don't think it's so bad. Erotic writing has always occurred. It's not something new.

Many times 'erotic' has been a catch-cry to shock or garner attention, but in my mind erotic writing is something that fills the mind, touches the senses, and engages.

What is erotic writing?

To me, it's writing that is primarily centred around sex. So much so, that if you remove the sex from the story, there is no story.

It doesn't have a specific genre or literary component to fit. It can stand alone.

It can also slip in with any genre, e.g. erotic thriller, erotic horror, erotic romance, erotic suspense, erotic crime. But whatever genre it works in, sex is still the focus of the story. If the sex was removed, the story still does not exist.

Let me illustrate with an example. After the huge success of Fifty Shades of Grey, quite a few books came out claiming to be erotic (in many genres), or claiming to be the next thing to read if you liked Fifty Shades. Most claims were false, in my mind. I bought an erotic thriller. It wasn't. It was a thriller, suspenseful, dark, crime novel, certainly, and it had sex in it for sure. But the sex was added to the story - loads of sex, sometimes only a couple of sentences to indicate that there had been sex. This isn't erotic by my definition. I could have taken all that sex out and there was still a story - less provocative but still there. The sex didn't add to the character development, it just happened. It wasn't described to engage the reader, it was there as words to show it had sex, as a marketing ploy. Sometimes I had to re-read sections to see why/if she'd had sex, but then I still wasn't clear as to the motivation or reason. It was just an event, like smoking a cigarette or walking down the street.

If you look back in time at erotic writing, it's been used for many purposes, but whatever the purpose, the central theme was sex.

The writings of Sappho, who lived between 620 and 570 BCE, are some of the early erotic poetry still read today. It's poetry of love and lust, to delight the senses. The Song of Songs in the Old Testament of The Bible is again a love story of a couple coming together in marriage and then being apart before coming together again. The Kama Sutra is probably one of the most well-known pieces of erotic writing. Vatsyayana is thought to have lived somewhere between the 1st and 6th century CE. It's many lessons on how to live and love.

The Carnal Prayer Mat bu Li Yu was written in the 1650s in China and is an erotic comedy which also gives social commentary. In 1748, John Cleland's erotic novel, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, Fanny Hill, was first published. A story of a young woman's debauchery after being orphaned. The work of the Marquis de Sade came later, after the 1760s and were dark erotic stories also with social commentary (although there is some dispute about this). Most had themes of sexual awakening /education /debauchery.

Erotic writing changes through time, as all literature does, but the central theme of sex does not change. It's the hallmark of the term.

Sex is a fascinating way of looking at humanity and making comments on society. If you're interested at all, come along and join in the discussion.

Phallic Friday - erotic literature

I'm teaching a workshop about erotic writing in October and November and in preparation I thought I'd go through some of the erotic literature I own and pull out some excerpts to discuss.

When we moved into this smaller house, I had to downsize my book collection. If you're a book-lover (hoarder), you might know what a challenging task this is. I couldn't part with my erotic collection and so I hid it in the garage in a chest of drawers, where Mr E would never notice it and would never know that I remained a dreadful book hoarder.

I thought I had a few books, maybe 6 or 8. Ahem. I underestimated. Quite considerably. There were almost 40 books there, a few more remained on the shelves in the house. I was thinking of taking the books to the workshop, but I'll need a huge suitcase to lug them in!

I'm so glad I squirrelled them away. It was like being reunited with old friends. And how much fun am I going to have going through them and finding excerpts. I may have to read some of my favourites again.

Do you book hoard? Do you have favourite old book friends?


PS I have to say how much this blog has meant to me. Over the past 8 years, I've expressed myself on here, opening myself up to all manner of discussions, thoughts, ideas, challenges. I've been able to do that without much fear (because I don't advertise this blog, so very few people read it - thank you to those who do MWAH!), with time to think, research, and write sometimes with regularity and sometime spasmodically. Having this presence here has taught me so much about myself, made me push beyond my comfort zone, and get me to a place where I feel comfortable talking about sex, writing, erotic writing, and many related topics. I wouldn't be doing workshops, and loving doing them, if it wasn't for my blog journey. Thank you for being a champion, a teacher, a discipline, and a space for my growth. Thank you blog readers for being on my journey with me.

Phallic Friday - sex ed

I'm in the last week of my OWL for RWA (ie an online writing workshop for Romance Writers of Australia) on Getting Comfortable Writing Sex. I can't begin to tell you how exciting it's been...and when I put it into words, I sound kind of nutty, but let me try.

18 people signed up for it. I thought it might be just me, so that was a relief.

Not many of them have been interactive, but 2 people have been really chatty. We've discussed published sex scenes - about 10 - and looked at what's worked and doesn't work for them.

We had a discussion about word choices, which was really interesting. There are so many words that people find objectional/offensive/uncomfortable. And everyone's different with their tolerance levels too. Such a great discussion.

Both people who've been active, have had lightbulb moments (what a thrill for me). Both have written a sex scene and shared it. Both have stretched where they thought their comfort zone was. One has taken the feedback and written more sex scenes that have so much more in them, that it's fantastic to see that development. The other has gone back to look at spicing up their whole manuscript because they enjoyed writing their first sex scene. Can you believe that?

Never in my wildest dreams did I hope that my course could have that impact - okay, maybe in the wildest dreams, but not the realistic ones! And I'm thrilled. We haven't done anything except read and discuss published sex scenes. But these writers have been open-minded, willing to discuss and push their boundaries, and I'm so grateful for their enthusiasm and openness.

I've taken a bit of a leap of faith, and I'm running a similar course with a face-to-face group with writers in general (not romance writers). The leap of faith is that I've only asked for a guarantee of petrol money, no payment for a 4-6 week course. Funding was applied for, and apparently this course was quite a volatile proposal that caused much debate. Should public money be used to fund sex? In the end, the answer was no.

Even if it's not funding sex, apparently writing sex scenes is still the same as funding sex.

I'm a little sad about that.

But it's not unexpected. There's an article on the ABC News website today, written by a 20-year-old, about the lack of sex education/discussion in society (you can read it here). And I just finished watching a TV series on SBS called The Hunting, (you can watch it here), where the theme was sexting and lack of discussion/education around this topic (also the law, patriarchy, racism, and other riling topics were touched upon, and sometimes not resolved much to my annoyance). SBS has also put out an education package to help with people who want to help discuss the sexting issues with kids/teens/others (you can find that here).

I hope things might change in the future, and that sex may not be such a taboo topic that we shun it or shy away from thinking about it or presenting/discussing available information.

And I hope one day that I might be able to receive funding and payment for a writing course, even if it discusses writing sex scenes!

Did you watch The Hunting? 

Fearless Friday - promo

I'm just back from the annual RWA Conference, this year it was in Melbourne. It's such an incredible weekend of information, friends, networking, catching up on industry news, meeting people, talking, and all sorts of book/writing things.

This year I had a mission. As the other me, a friend and I had a book out - for writers. So I planned to do promo and generate some interest at conference. I had a heap of magnets to give away and a box of books to sell.

The layout of conference wasn't really conducive to people picking up freebie stuff. And people don't really pick up freebies. So, I grabbed all my courage and I roamed around at morning tea shoving magnets in people's hands.

I don't know why, but I feel like a beggar when I do that. I wonder if I had to beg in a past life, because it's massively uncomfortable for me to face down that fear/discomfort. Actually, it is a fear, because I'm waiting the whole time for someone to yell at me and chase me away - I'm not quite sure who would do this, but it's still that fear in me.

And then I had to leave early, and I had about 60 books that weren't looking like being bought and weren't going to fit in to my luggage restriction for the flight home. What to do!?

I shoved them in unsuspecting hands.

And yes, even giving away a book I still felt like a beggar. I know it's insane. But I did.

I gave away quite a lot of books, facing down all that fear of someone yelling at me.

This week is recovery week.

I love conference, but man it takes it out of me!

I'll try to get post some notes of what I learned next week - my brain might work by then!