EMERGING WRITERS FEST. TALK CONT....
The mix that lives
in song, of expression, relation, connection and sometimes voyeurism is
obviously a potent one and of course has long had the whole world hooked!
Maybe the analogy
of music as a drug is just as apt as the religious one, as we seem to be drawn
to it just as powerfully.
Either way the
common ground is we often have an intense relationship with our chosen music.
We’re a bit fanatical about it. We celebrate and covet it.
Saints and Sinners
all, we dig it hard.
I first became
interested in writing when I was quite young, in fact I don’t think I can
remember a time when it was not number one or at least top five on the list of
things I wanted to be.
I’ve always held
writers in such high esteem, it could have something to do with my parents
vocations as well,
growing up Dad
taught English Lit and Mum, Drama – but not at my school (thank god)
Dad was also a bit
of a crime, pulp fiction and film noir obsessive and wrote screen plays for
kicks on the week end.
So there was
always scripts around as well as novels and poetry and I took like a worm to a
book, reading this, that and everything..
A curious mix
of Shakespear, Chandler,
Tarantino, Tolkein, Isabelle Allende and Graeme Greene, as well as teenage
staples like John Marsden and Isobell Carmody, kept me hungrily page turning as
a youngin’.
I loved it from
the start, the worlds that were there to run off into, the witty language, the
myriad characters, the adult and emotional landscapes miles from my own
experience.
I loved trying on
challenging stuff, aware that my little mind was being opened further every
time I opened a book. And there were so many to choose from, I really was
spoilt for choice.
But just as early
as I loved them, I wanted to have a go myself.
Telling these
stories and creating these characters just sounded like too much fun.
Apparently I was
always a teller of tall tales, no problem with embellishing a re-telling of
daily events to feature some dragons, hidden tunnels, secret stones, a betrayal
or two.. and that was during class time. Recess and lunch, forget about it.
Maybe I had a
hyperactive imagination or a small case of something that would now be
diagnosed and medicated, but didn’t we all?
I suspect, seeing
as this room is full of writers, you could all relate to how real and easy these
other worlds were and are to slip into..?
The imagination I
had back then is still something I try and re-visit and tap into. Not so much
for the dragons but the open mindedness and the inexhaustibility.
As a proud
wanna-be writer I reveled in and romanticized writing down these fantastical
plots and pre-pubescent poems that I was sure were my future. But it was around
12 or 13 that I had a bit of a ‘Sonic’ revelation.
My other rabid
love, music, was coming on strong and becoming increasingly the louder of the
callings.. the inevitable result being that I started experimenting with
merging the two fascinations, and so a big, big, and rather loud, penny
dropped.
Never being the
most thorough person in the world, finishing my grandly planned stories always
was the up hill bit. Much more of a short stories type a gal, I had trouble
maintaining enthusiasm for the long form. To this day short stories are some of
my favorite literature, and the song is possibly the shortest short story of
all.
Well, not in Every
case, Arlo Guthrie, Frank Zappa, Nick Cave- I’m looking at you.. ;)
But I’ve come to
realize that My strength as a writer lies more in the three minute thirty
seconds kinda camp. My favorite thing is when I’ve said all that I want to say
in a verses, chorus, verse, maybe a middle section and a last verse.. possibly
same as the first.
It may sound
formulaic, but the pop song ideal, when perfected is pretty magic.
In country, folk,
blues, and so many of the great songwriting traditions this repetition and
quite simple structure really lets the story shine and it sometimes shocks me
with it’s ability to make concepts come to life so quickly.
And so humbly.
You almost don’t
expect it, the force of emotion that can be prompted from such a common and
kind of an unassuming formula. But, as with most creative endevours, to do it
brilliantly but simply, without using every colour in the box so to speak, is
probably the harder and less achieved of the tasks.
I liken it to
haiku, this pop song writing process.
Another form that
probably comes across as simple and maybe a little one dimensional, boxed in by
it’s constraints, but when it’s good, it’s SO good, and it’s undeniable.
When it sets a
scene, evokes an emotion and has spun a beautiful tiny moment for you, in just
17 syllables.. That takes some mastery.
My first steps
spinning songs, were far from masterful.
I’ve tried to cast
my mind back to my very first complete song, and I recall it was subtle as a
mallet.
Biting off so much
more than I could chew it wasn’t funny, I believe it was something about the
war in Veitnam, War was bad, Peace was good, People should get along..
Sung with the
emotional authority and outstanding naivety of a 12 year old Joni Mitchell fan.
Yes, my emerging
writer had begun to emerge, and she was tackling the ‘Big Issues’.. ;)
But sage advice in
the form of that old chestnut, ‘Write What You Know’ was thankfully bestowed on
me somewhere down the line -probably another a gift from my wisend and song
soaked parentals - and soon after that I moved into my ‘Teen Angst as the One
True Muse’ phase, which I’m glad to say, as much as it still had generous
lashings of naivety, was received with far less wincing and felt more authentic
to me.
This positive
response set me on a course I didn’t quite expect to be so dramatic. Soon my
books and diaries that were always covered in lyrics and poems were being
distilled into a much grander work than I had intended them for.
I had hardly
mastered my craft, in love with it though I was, I was just trying to keep up.
.....Okay, that's enough for now. There's still more.. No steak knives though, sorry.
Xx Ella
No comments:
Post a Comment