Page Seventeen

I’ve just come off the back of being fiction editor for Issue 8 of page seventeen, having read a whole bunch of short stories. ‘You must be tired,’ people have said to me. ‘Here, have a pillow for you must be oh so exhausted.’

Well, yes and no.

I’m tired because of all the other jobs I do in addition to my role at page seventeen. Reading through submissions, however, was an absolute joy. Frustrating, yes. At times disheartening. But for the most part, there was a simple bliss in reading others’ words, visions, and stories as they searched for a wider audience.

 And what a range: I came across old ladies dying while hiking, time-obsessed mothers, writers who literally saved the world and a dog whisperer… and that was just in the first week. As time marched on, I read of masturbating mothers, pre-wedding jitters, a girl’s first period and some futuristic visions that would frighten George Orwell. All of these (excepting perhaps the sci-fi, which isn’t exactly page seventeen’s strong suit) had the potential to feature in the journal. What stopped them from making the shortlist, however, was an ailment more common than you might think.

I liked many of the stories I mentioned above, but they all needed a fleshing out of the themes, voices and characters within the story.

In Amanda Lohrey’s recent post on writing a short story (available here),  she suggests leaving a story for another month, or three, or six, before coming back to it, so as to ‘let it cook in the oven of your subconscious.’ While six months is a long time to let a story mature, I’d certainly advise at least a month, particularly between the first and second drafts. By doing this, you gain perspective on what is and isn’t working in the story. You sharpen the saw, and with said saw, slash away any characters that aren’t directly aiding the story. You change point-of-view if necessary, and you eliminate ‘that’, ‘however’, ‘to me’, ‘at me’, ‘inside of me’, and any other redundant phrases.

Some writers have told me they write perfect first drafts, so they don’t need to revise. These writers, quite frankly, are on crack. And they’re probably not getting published often.

Writing a great story is not easy. It will make you question your sanity. It will distract you when you’re trying to make love to a beautiful man or woman. But, it’s worth it, because you can always work on the story and then go make love to said beautiful man or woman.

I would have loved to have given feedback to each and every submission this year, but instead I’ll leave these three fragments as lessons learned on the short fiction highway:

1)      Never, ever, send your first draft to an editor. They can spot when a story hasn’t been developed.

2)      Join a writing group with writers that are at the same stage or slightly advanced from you. Sometimes you’re too close to the story to spot its most important flaws.

3)      Your story is done when you cannot do anything else to make it better. Challenge yourself before that point. Strive for excellence: change characters, add and delete scenes. Get an assessment from the VWC if you’re entering it for a big competition, and if not, then still get an assessment, or group feedback at the very least.

Editors don’t owe you the right to publication. You need to prove to them that you’re worth it. How much effort you put in is up to you, but if you don’t go the extra mile, then someone else will… and they’ll be the one getting published.

Thanks to all those who submitted their stories and congratulations to those writers selected. Thanks also to Peter Farrar and Vicki Thornton, my editorial committee for Issue 8. And finally, a special thanks to Tiggy Johnson, who does this every year while still working on her writing and raising three kids

Tiggy has helped foster the careers of any number of writers and poets over the years including myself, Ryan O’Neill, Vicki Thornton, Natasha Lester, Bronwyn Mehan, Nathan Curnow, Sean M Whelan, and Maxine Clarke. Their past contributor list reads like a who’s who of contemporary Australian writing, but at some point they were (and indeed, still are) just writers and poets, searching somewhere for an audience, a place to be published and respected.  And Tiggy has given us that, time and time again.

See you at the launch.

Lost shark, Graham Nunn is the judge for the 2010 page seventeen Poetry competition. He shares his thoughts on last year’s winners.

It’s a real privilege being asked to pull on the page seventeen jersey and judge the 2010 page seventeen poetry competition. I have recently been rediscovering issue 7 and want to say straight up that Nathan Curnow did a superb job of judging the competition last year. The winning poem, Black Swans by Chloe Wilson shows impeccable taste!

From first reading, the imagery in this poem draws you in, placing you firmly in the moment. You feel the thrill of discovery as you catch sight of their ‘swarthy plumage’ and hear their ‘soft honks and whistles’, but what gives this poem its incredible power is the way the author uses the imagery of the black swans to reflect on European invasion.

                                                 what did they make

                                                of the strange black bodies

                                                standing coy

                                                among sodden reeds

                                                or afloat

                                                on any flat water wide enough?

 This question gives the poem a haunting tone and is one that circles back on you long after reading. Chloe Wilson is most certainly a poet to watch. I had the pleasure of seeing her read at the Salt on the Tongue Festival in Goolwa recently and purchased a copy of her debut collection, The Mermaid Problem (which features the poem Black Swans). Very impressive!

And the poem that took out second place, Botanic by Ashley Capes (who has also recently joined the page seventeen team as poetry editor), is another stand out. Botanic is brimming with finely tuned images:

                                                 ‘cicadas and crickets in hymn’

                                                ’streets hum with threats,

                                                the casino is purple’

                                                ‘a monsoon of small change

                                                trickling

                                                in and out of vending machines’

In Botanic, Capes brings the natural and built environments together effortlessly, each reflecting the beauty in the other. And each time I read this poem, I lean in a little closer to catch the gossip, lurking in the stands of bamboo.

These poems, alongside the other shortlisted poems published in issue 7 have set the bar high for 2010. Nathan Curnow summed it up very nicely in his judge’s report when he encouraged aspiring entrants to, “Read critically. Pay attention to images, economy of words and to the arrangement of the poem on the page.” So, with these words in mind and the competition gates now open, I wait with anticipation for your entries… All the details are here.