Robert Mckee is considered the guru of Story and every novelist should have a copy of his book in their shelves.  He was in Melbourne over the weekend to deliver his gruelling but inspirational three days of lectures. This is the second time I have attended his seminar, the first was back in 2003. (John Cleese has taken it 4 times)  Now onto my 6th book I feel a little more confident about my storytelling ability. It is a complicated craft, and there is so much to learn. What was brilliant about each day was that while he was speaking, I was constantly measuring up what he was saying against my new novel, Little Paradise, sort of like a check list: yes – my protagonist is 3 dimensional, yes – all the other characters show different facets of her personality, yes – there is plenty of conflict, yes – there is an inciting incident and turning points which intensify. etc etc. At the same time I was jotting down the things that I needed to attend to. I have been commissioned to write a series of 4 novels and his words sparked off ideas for those as well. If he came back in another three years time, I’d certainly go through it all again. I would sit through 11 hours each day with hardly time for a toilet break all for the sake of being able to tell the classic story.

As writers of fiction, there are many things that we are in control of. We’re like God playing with the lives of our characters, deciding when they should suffer and when they should be happy. We create settings, devise plots and subplots, we place obstacles in their way. In short, our job is to make their lives as miserable as possible, so that their reward and the reward of the reader is that much greater when our hero or heroine overcomes the terrible things we have put them through.

But there is one thing that a writer cannot control and that is the birth of an idea.

Ideas are spontaneous. But are they random? Some ideas can be as soft as a mouse’s sigh, others scream out to be written down and make you go running for pen and paper. It’s that soft as a mouse’s sigh idea or thought or observation – the one that is so fleeting it can pass you by without you giving it a second thought – that I’m interested in. I think that every idea and thought and observation comes to writers for a reason. Our conscious minds might not be awake, but our unconscious is on the job 24/7, and is constantly tapping into the realm where ideas are born.

I keep a small notepad in my handbag and of course lots of pens. The only problem is, I don’t always have my bag with me. I might be taking the dog for a walk or driving the car where my bag will be out of reach.

I have just finished reading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. It is a beautiful book – full of inspiration, honesty and humour. She mentions using an index card together with a pen which she slips into one of her pockets. I have started using this method and because I have an index card and pen on me most of the time now, I am far more aware of those soft as a mouse’s sigh thoughts and write them down as they come to me.

The other day I was having lunch with an historian who mentioned the brothels that used to be in Lonsdale Street, just down from the Houses of Parliament, during the second world war. She said you always knew which door belonged to a prostitute because the knob was always so brightly polished.

As I’m writing a novel on that period in Melbourne’s history, I slowly took out my index card and pen and wrote down ’shiny door knobs’ without the historian noticing anything at all. If I had to turn around and reach into my handbag to get my notepad, the conversation probably would have stopped.

Catching those ideas on the run is now made easy with the simple use of index cards.

It’s amazing how tight writing becomes when you remove the adverbs. I know, it’s been mentioned time and again in all the writing books, but I’m a slow learner or perhaps I wasn’t ready for that major piece of advice. It took a writer friend to sit down with me and go through five chapters before I actually got it. I can see now how effective a sentence can be without all those quickly, silently, promptly, hurriedly, timidly, grimly, strangely, boringly, unsightly words.

Stephen King writes,’ Adverbs, like the passive voice, seem to have been created with the timid writer in mind. With adverbs, the writer usually tells us he or she is afraid he/she isn’t expressing himself/herself clearly, that he or she is not getting the point or the picture across.’

Compare  “Mirabel was suddenly horrified.” with “Mirabel was horrified.” or “That’s a lie!’ Mirabel said, angered, lifting the shotgun threateningly as if to strike him.” “That’s a lie!’ Mirabel said, angered, lifting the shotgun as if to strike him.”

So yesterday I did a global search of all the ‘ly’s’ in Little Paradise and was able to take out 99% of them. Such a relief.

My friend also pointed out that in many places I was over explaining, leaving little room for the reader to take part. eg. ‘Weighed down with heavy bales on their backs, they looked like monsters in the mist, crawling out of the river. Their shouting and loud cries made them appear even more fightening. Bao Bao began to cry.’

The following is much more effective:

‘Weighed down with heavy bales on their backs, they looked like monsters in the mist, crawling out of the river. Bao Bao began to cry.’

It’s leaving a gap, a silence for the reader to imagine, to picture, to feel what she/he is  reading. If you keep talking at them, telling them how they should feel then the impact of the sentence, the scene does not come from within the reader but from the outside.

So now, with the rain coming down and a steaming hot coffee sitting on my desk, I will do a global search on another pet peeve of my author friend, those two words -  ‘began to’

With grown up children still at home, (twenty and twenty-two) but living their separate lives with university and work, it is a rare occasion these days that we as a family – mama, baba, big sister (jie jie) and little brother (di di) -  are in the house at the same time.

So I rejoice today on this Queen’s birthday holiday to have the chance to spend time with my family – even if we are only communicating with our laptops.

‘God Save Our Gracious Queen!’