Poem Accepted for Publication!

Poetry New Zealand has accepted my poem "Diary of an Ex-Online Gamer" for publication in their next forthcoming issue (issue #47). Sorry for the plug, but I am very excited about this. It has been a while since I have submitted poetry for publication, anywhere, as I have been very busy at work and on my business, as well as getting married (more on that later). The news came just as I made a commitment to myself to spend more time and energy on my creativity. Then I went to the mailbox and, presto!

Go check out the website for Poetry NZ -- they are a classy outfit and have been around for ages, publishing poetry from both the local and international scene.

Fear of Failure, or Success?

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure." - Marianne Williamson

We are all afraid of failing at some point in our lives. Whether it is the fear of letting our loved ones down, or failing at getting a cake to rise, it comes up a lot. But what about the fear of success? Recently I was speaking with a friend about my personal fears around failure, and how it holds me back, sometimes, from trying. Now, don't get me wrong. I've done a lot, succeeded at a lot, and I am no shrinking violet. But once in a while, something is so important to me, a dream so big, that I am afraid that if I don't live up to the dream, it will be ruined forever.

My friend advised me that I am probably more afraid of success than failure. To which I heartily disagreed. Success would be lovely. But it did get me thinking - is success just as terrifying as failure? Do we really want to succeed, with all that success entails? Maybe meeting your dream partner means that you will lose your freedom and have to settle down. Maybe becoming a published author means that your thoughts and dreams will be open to criticism by others.

When have you ever been afraid of success?

The Science of Magical Plants

My feature "The Science of Magical Plants" has been recently published in the March 2013 issue of the Australian magazine The Art of Healing. I have only finally gotten my hands on a copy of the magazine and I am super excited with everything -- the photos and illustrations are fantastic, and the layout of the words itself is clean and elegant. 

In this article I looked at plants, such as foxglove and mandrake, which have gained notoriety over the generations for their use in magical practices. Much of the lore regarding the plants went back to Biblical times, straight through to the medieval periods and late 19th century. Not only did I go into some detail of their general history and folklore, but I looked at what these plants are used for today. Many magical plants are being widely used in medical oncology, surgery, and as medications for cardiovascular problems. 

What I noticed about the plants in this article was that each of them had a dual nature. Each plant was both a poison and a medicine. Both healer and killer. Perhaps it is this twilight area of plant medicine where drama, fear and mystery sows the seeds for folklore and legend to grow from. 

This was the most fun I had writing an article in a really long time. The topic was something I felt passionately about and I savored the long hours of research required for it. After a long year of ghost writing, this project was indeed a welcome change.

Is Being A Writer Good Enough?

"The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time." - Mary Oliver

Writing is one of the most endangered, fragile professions that exists.

Not because there is any lack of skilled and passionate wordsmiths floating around. There are countless numbers of us. The reason is because there are so many obstacles to becoming a constant, prolific and successful writer. Some of the most talked about are editors, changes in the publishing world, low remuneration, deadline pressures, and people in our lives who wonder when we are going to get "real jobs".

But the worst enemies are within.

Low self-confidence, doubt, fear, creative blocks, fatigue, resentment, jealousy, etc. These are some of the enemies that live within the writer. Do bankers suffer from these internal struggles? Do gardeners, or dentists, or other people who have "real jobs"?

This morning on the way to work I talked to my partner about my confusion. Was I really meant to be a writer? What about all my other dreams? Didn't I once want to open my own natural health clinic? What about the reiki school I talked about? And the bookshop I wanted to start up? Once upon a time, I was even going to sign up for web design courses and make the big bucks.

What happened to all those dreams? All those other parts of myself, crying out for attention, for love, for time?

After listening to my angst, my partner reminded me about dharma -- the idea that whatever we are doing right now, we are meant to be doing it. Even if writing feels selfish at times, it has a larger purpose. I don't know if that is the official definition of dharma, but it is interesting, and it helped me to feel better. If I want to writer, maybe I am meant to be a writer.

And maybe, just maybe, all those other parts of myself will forgive me for forgetting them just long enough to finish this next story...

     In a time and place that is now both gone and forgotten, there lived a young stick of a boy, who lived all alone in a tower by the sea cliffs. With no one to talk to and no family to look after him, he would go down to the rocks and forage for his meals. He pulled seaweed from the rocks, caught crabs and shellfish from the thick mud, and once in a while, harpooned fish with sharp pieces of wood. 

And when his belly was full, he would write. He wrote all his words on the paper he could find, and when the paper was all gone, he wrote on dried leaves and curtains and on the stones in the walls. People, families, friends, they lived there in his poems and stories. He could hear their voices in the corridors, behind the mirrors, and even in his dreamless sleep...

On Creativity and Burn-out

Here is a (rather long) comment I recently made on Terri Windling's blog, in reply to her wonderful and insightful and beautiful post on creativity, rest, burn-out and despair. Read the original post. 

When I was studying to become a medical herbalist, I took some extra papers to gain a small certificate in sports nutrition, and in doing so I learned an interesting concept which comes to mind when I think about or experience burn out: when training to make your body stronger, faster, leaner, or to reach a certain goal, the body requires specified times of rest.

At night as we are asleep, our bodies calls forth the minerals and nutrients from the deep to strengthen, heal and facilitate growth of all those tissues that sustain us and makes us powerful -- our muscles, ligaments, tendons and bones. Just as we need the night and the sleep for this nocturnal regeneration and rejuvenation to occur, we need days off as well.

If two or three days of hard physical work is not broken up by a day or so of not doing anything physical at all, the body doesn't get better. The muscles do not grow larger. The bones do not get thicker. You don't make your goals. When you do not give your body the time it needs to repair your tissues -- time to make them larger, more durable and stronger then ever -- plateaus and burn-out are much more likely to occur.

I try and remember this to temper the inspiration, motivation and drive that I feel for my creative and work projects. If I feel my energy and my spirit wane, I have to let go of whatever important thing I am doing, so that I can go down and go deep into some rest, and have faith that whatever needs to get done, will still get done.

Snow, Books and Busifullness.

An apology to my honored readers, visitors, guests and friends, for my long absence from this blog. I do not wish to join the ranks of Bloggers-Who-Do-Not-Actually-Blog, but life has taken a turn for the bizarre, the chilling, and frankly busy. Just when you want to dive into a bowl of yellow ochre oil paint, everything gets a bit frantic and the canvas, the notebook, the sketchbook, and even the garden begin to gather dust.

Not to mention, where I live in New Zealand we have had TWO rather unusual and severe snow storms. Polar winds have moved on up through the North and South Islands of the country, blanketing more than half the country in white frosty frostness. In total, I can count one whole week I've spent trapped indoors by snow. For those of you who no nothing of New Zealand meteorology (for whatever reason...) this does not happen often. Snow occurs at sea level about every four years in Christchurch in the South Island, and even then, this is the worst snow we've seen in near 20 years.

This is a picture of our boy, Biggles. As you can clearly see, he loves the snow. Just loves it.

While all this has been going on, I've been working away on my computer, publishing articles to pay the bills and get myself through University. For the first in a long time, I am actually making a half-decent wage - with writing, no less! And it's a great gig - it allows me the flexibility to go to University where I can study (this term) Children's Literature, Creative Writing and Film Studies.

 This picture is of me outside, at midnight, during the first snowfall. It was like powder. Cold, sparkly powder.

I am supposed to be reading Wind in the Willows at the moment.... but a certain Patrick Rothfuss has found his way onto my bedside table. For those of you who know who Patrick Rothfuss, you understand that his books are NOT a short read. I am about 500 pages or so into "The Wise Man's Fear"... so about half-way. Am I a bad student? Yes, yes I am.

HOWEVER...
I am not not doing my studies because of drinking, eating, watching Family Guy, going snow boarding or because I've been doing Things That Shall Not Be Named and Got Locked In A Closet Down Lichfield St...I've not been doing my studies because I've been reading.

Reading is important.
Reading is, in some ways, life.
And what kind of English Literature student would I be if I didn't neglect my friends, boyfriend, dogs, personal hygiene and studies to read a really good novel?

Yeah, that's what I thought, too.

Bursting Into Flames - the Horrific Short Life of a Phoenix

Interesting conversation yesterday.
I am walking past an earthquake-torn historic building and someone goes, "We in Christchurch will rise again - like the Phoenix!"
"What - bursting into flames?" I replied
"Well yes, but, wait, not like that - ok, maybe a bad example."
We laugh and walk away from each other.
Yeah, I get what they are saying. Phoenix dies and is reborn from the ash of it's former self.

Big deal.

There's got to be an easier way, me thinks.

When I learned that the Creative Every Day 2011 theme for the month of June was "metamorphosis", I groaned. I really, really did. Sometimes life feels like one painful unfolding of dry onion layer after dry onion layer. I've taken so many healing, Landmark, NLP, hypnosis, counselling, The Journey, yoga and flower essence classes that if I met Oprah on the street tomorrow - she probably would tell me I was doing too much "self-help" and needed to sit my ass down.

Everything has changed for me this year - everything. Where I live, my friends, my job, my university courses, my future. Not all bad changes, but they are big - and definitely take some getting used to. Living in a town that has been half-destroyed by earthquakes, it feels as though metamorphosis fills my every waking moment and every dream. Just down the street from me neo-gothic and historic buildings have crumbled to bits, and new buildings are already being erected to replace them.There are days, like today, when I just want the ground under my feet to (literally and figuratively) STOP moving.

 So, ok, you get the picture. Lots of changes.
Does that mean that I will jump up and down and not do the challenge?
Of course not.

The challenge of using the metamorphosis theme for creativity has actually prompted me to think about some positive, life affirming changes that I might like to make with my life and my art. Many changes I've experienced are those I have had no choice in - call them acts of god, they happen, and you just have to deal with them when they do. But what types and forms of metamorphosis might I like to explore that is actually of my choosing?

Good question.

And does all metamorphosis and change have to involve bone-breaking, flesh burning, soul tearing, cathartic stages of transformation?

God I hope not.

To explore this question I stayed up last night writing a series of poems based around the theme of metamorphosis, and I will be editing and posting them on here as the month progresses. Subjects included the way that books and reading stimulates changes within people, how old age changes people and their sense of self, how simple words and acts can render changes unto a relationship with a loved one forever.

The exercise was helpful, enabling me to write fast, loose, not worrying what came out, just moving from one poem to the next very quickly. It's a great way of shutting up the left-brain from analyzing too deeply, scrutinizing too hard, and just getting into the flow. By the end of the poetry jam session I slipped off into a contented,  creatively-satisfied slumber.

Metamorphosis happens all around us, every day. The seasons, the tide, the dresses of the moon - constant cycles of transformation and difference, always connected with a deeper, more natural balance.

That's the sort of personal metamorphosis I would like to invoke into my own life.

The Phoenix can keep it's dramatic catharsis and fiery death cries.
Some things, like writing, like life, can just be simple.

A Declaration of War

The Naysayer

Recently I had the experience of an unfortunate friend saying to me, "You can't really teach creative writing, it's just something you're born with."

Now, this was not the first time I have been faced with this sort of pessimism from friends, family or strangers. Most writers and artists will, at some stage, have comments like this thrown at them. 

The comment was made even more ridiculous by the fact that, I have learned creative writing. At school I was never particularly good at english, nor did I enjoy it. The rules around language skills were boring, if not disabling and mystifying . It wasn't till many years later when I attended creative writing courses at university that I (re)learnt rules around spelling, grammar and sentence structure that had mutated in my mind over time. 

Now many (if not most) of my bills are paid through freelance writing. I have made several professional sales of poetry. I've published articles on health, alternative medicine, relationships, pets, creative writing and book reviews.

Now, I am not the most famous writer in the world. I am learning new things all the time. There is so much to learn. Libraries are filled with books on writing techniques and craft. The internet is bursting with web sites and communities ripe with knowledge. Bookshops are made possible by writers who did not give up, did not listen, and decided to learn to write. 

I have learned, am learning, and this alone is proof that the societal myth around creative writing simply is that - mythology. 

The Myth

So why is it that so many people assume that writing is an innate, sacred gift, bestowed to the chosen few?

Well, for starters, there are stories of writers who became rich, famous and powerful after publishing their first ever novel. Stephanie Meyer is a good recent example of someone who had never written anything before publishing "Twilight", and hit the big time. 

Try this on for size: 30 famous authors whose works were rejected (repeatedly, and sometimes rudely) by publishers.

This whole experience of talking to my friend has gotten me so fired up, so incensed, so burning-hot-mad, I have decided to officially declare War.  

War on the naysayers.

War on the puny pessimists.

War on the creatively-crippled. 

Writing can be learned. Writing can be developed. Writing can be honed and crafted. 

The Plan

I am planning to post a series of articles and blogs on the process of writing, sharing exercises, tips and wisdom that I come across in the journey.I am going to share my own journey of learning to write (for the journey never, ever ends!) and in doing so, leave a trail of bread crumbs for others to follow. I am not proclaiming to be a guru, or an expert. Just a guy too stubborn to give up, or give in. 

Rather scribbling down an exact and formulated plan of action, this blog is going to be an organic and natural creative process. What needs to be written here come through inspiration, through conversation, through books, through projects I work on, through characters I invent or channel.

If there is a need for the knowledge to be communicated, I trust that it will find a way to come through. 

This blog is only one of many, many sources of information and help for those wanting to learn to write, or improve in their writing. 

Its a long, hard road. 
But nothing worth doing is easy.

Nanowrimo

Who's taking part in NANOWRIMO this year?
ME! That's who!

So what if I am a week late in starting?
So what if I only came up with a novel idea today?
So what if my idea has already been milked by a hundred other authors till its nothing left but a barren pile of dust too dead to fertilize a garden?

The point is, I am nearly 2000 words into my novel and I am determined to finish this challenge. The point of NANOWRIMO is not to write the-next-great-novel. It's not even to write a 'good' novel. The point is to write a novel. Any novel. As long as it is over 50,000 words by the end of November, I will have won the challenge and proven to myself that I can do this sort of thing. I can be self motivated. I can be inventive. I can stick to dead lines and work on big projects with nothing to help me but a word processor, an mp3 player and more caffeine than you can throw a cow at.

Are you interested in taking part of the NANOWRIMO challenge too?
Well, if it's not too late for me, it's not too late for you.
Check it out at: http://www.nanowrimo.org/

Productive Day

Today, so far, is a good day. I have made time this morning to read a marvelous and inspiring book "Artist in the Office" by Summer Pierre, as well as write some new poetry and finish editing one of my latest short stories. I have sent the story, as well as a poem, to one of my tutors for critiquing. I can only hope she will be gentle!

Days like this make me feel as though the direction I am taking is worthwhile - as though I am not wasting my time completely. I need to earn some more money, true. I could really use a decent hair cut, sure. But I am producing, I am sending things off to the publishers, and people are enjoying my work! Real people. Not imaginary ones. Not family members who are forced to smile and nod approvingly as if my love depended on it. Real people!

Last night I opened up my email account to discover a poem is going to be published by an ezine "Very Bad Poetry". Funny name, eh? I suppose it's where a lot of my poetry belongs. And sure enough, the poem that they selected for publishing, in my opinion, was not one of my greatest. But it doesn't matter. People (out there!) will be reading it and it's one more thing for the CREATIVE RESUME. I mean, it's like painting, right? Whats the point of writing this stuff if it just sits on my hard drive. It might as well be out there (!) somewhere, where it might give people some measure of satisfaction or pleasure. I know it is a thrill and great feedback when people like your work enough to publish it.

The day is not over yet, however. Time to go prepare some lunch of some form, and then perhaps get to some of my other assignments. Who knows, maybe even those freelance articles that might pay my bills?