M. Austin's Blog
August 21, 2015
Is the First Step is Always the Hardest?
Much is always made of the first step. ‘The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step,’ said Lao Tzu. ‘Faith is taking the first step when you don’t see the whole staircase,’ said Martin Luther King. Of course they’re right – their words stand the test of time – but do we always take their intended message away with us?
Starting a journey is never a guarantee of finishing it. Sometimes we only prepare and commit ourselves to the very act of beginning, and not what follows after. The first step may be like a leap of faith, but the next steps take place during the immediate fall. The panicking sensation of plummeting can be enough to make you want to bail just as fervently as you leapt.
Yes, the first step is difficult to make, but so is the second, the eleventh, the fifty-third, the two hundred-and-seventeenth. Every action that goes unrecorded, every day that goes unrewarded, every step making little difference to your current position in the world. The monotony of moving through the days with no visible results, no idea of where you are or how far you still have to go, no glimpse of that suddenly, seemingly mythical endpoint that motivated you into starting this journey in the first place, can really demoralise.
I’m one of those people who find it easy to take that first step and start something: whether in the form of a book, a blog post or the whole campaign to bring my work to an audience that could love it. I psych myself up for the end result and quickly lose faith when it continues to elude me.
So, what to do when your fortitude flags? How do you find inspiration in the face of zero progress? I don’t know. I’m still looking for answers myself. I suppose that the most I can do is remember why I started in the first place and imbue every step of my journey with all the wonder, determination, hope and excitement of the first. And realise that the end goal is always there – even when it’s out of sight – and it can always be reached as long as I keep stepping.
Starting a journey is never a guarantee of finishing it. Sometimes we only prepare and commit ourselves to the very act of beginning, and not what follows after. The first step may be like a leap of faith, but the next steps take place during the immediate fall. The panicking sensation of plummeting can be enough to make you want to bail just as fervently as you leapt.
Yes, the first step is difficult to make, but so is the second, the eleventh, the fifty-third, the two hundred-and-seventeenth. Every action that goes unrecorded, every day that goes unrewarded, every step making little difference to your current position in the world. The monotony of moving through the days with no visible results, no idea of where you are or how far you still have to go, no glimpse of that suddenly, seemingly mythical endpoint that motivated you into starting this journey in the first place, can really demoralise.
I’m one of those people who find it easy to take that first step and start something: whether in the form of a book, a blog post or the whole campaign to bring my work to an audience that could love it. I psych myself up for the end result and quickly lose faith when it continues to elude me.
So, what to do when your fortitude flags? How do you find inspiration in the face of zero progress? I don’t know. I’m still looking for answers myself. I suppose that the most I can do is remember why I started in the first place and imbue every step of my journey with all the wonder, determination, hope and excitement of the first. And realise that the end goal is always there – even when it’s out of sight – and it can always be reached as long as I keep stepping.
August 7, 2015
The Closet Author
Until very recently only a handful of those unwitting people I call my family, friends and passing acquaintances knew that I was an author. An even smaller percentage were aware that it wasn’t all bluster and that there actually was a book out there, buried somewhere in the Kindle Store’s vast catalogue.
Why did I keep it from the majority of everyone I hold dear – or at least everyone I know and appreciate in some way? The answer is hard to clearly define. Perhaps I never thought of it as something necessary to mention about myself, or perhaps I didn’t know how to broach the topic and receive the desired reaction. Maybe I didn’t know what the desired reaction was. “That’s fantastic,” is welcome enough, but God forbid anyone asking to read it for themselves. “No, don’t even look at it!” will always wage colourful war on, “Yes, please do.”
And – I’ll admit it – there had to be a slice of misguided shame there, some sort of visceral need to blend in with the legion of fellow students pulling respectable jobs (not to mention steady cash) and padding their CVs. Mine is all mothballs.
But very recently, I told them. I told everyone I could reach. I pasted my declaration of authorship to my otherwise scarce Facebook wall and waited. The response was as supportive as I could have hoped it to be, and it proved that what I had truly feared was not the reactions of the people in my life, whether positive or negative, but the emotions they would incur. Fortunately, I felt nothing similar to needlessness or exhibitionism or embarrassment. If anything, I was driven to work harder at my craft and myself. I want to do well in their eyes.
I guess what I’m trying to say is: be open with your dreams. You might find a lot more love and support than you first thought. Let people know of your ambitions and let their knowledge hold you to your course in making them a reality.
Why did I keep it from the majority of everyone I hold dear – or at least everyone I know and appreciate in some way? The answer is hard to clearly define. Perhaps I never thought of it as something necessary to mention about myself, or perhaps I didn’t know how to broach the topic and receive the desired reaction. Maybe I didn’t know what the desired reaction was. “That’s fantastic,” is welcome enough, but God forbid anyone asking to read it for themselves. “No, don’t even look at it!” will always wage colourful war on, “Yes, please do.”
And – I’ll admit it – there had to be a slice of misguided shame there, some sort of visceral need to blend in with the legion of fellow students pulling respectable jobs (not to mention steady cash) and padding their CVs. Mine is all mothballs.
But very recently, I told them. I told everyone I could reach. I pasted my declaration of authorship to my otherwise scarce Facebook wall and waited. The response was as supportive as I could have hoped it to be, and it proved that what I had truly feared was not the reactions of the people in my life, whether positive or negative, but the emotions they would incur. Fortunately, I felt nothing similar to needlessness or exhibitionism or embarrassment. If anything, I was driven to work harder at my craft and myself. I want to do well in their eyes.
I guess what I’m trying to say is: be open with your dreams. You might find a lot more love and support than you first thought. Let people know of your ambitions and let their knowledge hold you to your course in making them a reality.
November 13, 2014
Today's blog: featuring predominately empty space
Because I promised myself that I would blog every Thursday.
November 6, 2014
London: Where “peak” means a bad thing ’pparently
I guess it was a great idea to choose the capital city as my place of study for the next few years: it’s a melting pot of races, cultures and, of course, language. London slang is sometimes lost on me: a Home Counties girl who grew up in an identity-muddling crossfire between well-spoken, middle-class children and city-born expats who tended to use slang that was a couple years behind. “Peak” is one of the standout London idioms that never made it over to us. In the words of my Londoner friends, peak is the concept that “once you have gone so high, the only way is down”, like the Roman Empire, the lost city of Atlantis, or Ned Stark or something. Peak is the worst. Now that just confused me after hearing things like “peak of the singer’s career” or “peak physical fitness”. One of those Londoners actually agreed. She’s trying to popularise “trough” instead. I don’t know if it will take.
So, how is London great for literature? Well…I’ve got a Waterstones bookshop nearby… Ok, in all seriousness, there’s the London Lit Weekend – which I sort of missed – and the London Literature Festival – which I also… oh dear. All right, so perhaps I haven’t been reaping the benefits of London’s literature scene to the best of my abilities, but there are other ways that I’ve been appreciating the city’s famed culture. The music here is so abundant and exciting. I’ve seen grand Mahler symphonies, hilarious musical comedy duos, bizarre yet brilliant electronic video-operas. Once, I stumbled down a grimy flight of steps and found myself in the coolest jazz bar.
Sometimes I look out of my window and can’t quite compute what I see – a cluster of iconic skyscrapers instead of the neat row of semi-detached houses that matched mine – but perhaps one day, London will stop being a bewildering, overwhelming, foreign dreamland and become a second home.
So, how is London great for literature? Well…I’ve got a Waterstones bookshop nearby… Ok, in all seriousness, there’s the London Lit Weekend – which I sort of missed – and the London Literature Festival – which I also… oh dear. All right, so perhaps I haven’t been reaping the benefits of London’s literature scene to the best of my abilities, but there are other ways that I’ve been appreciating the city’s famed culture. The music here is so abundant and exciting. I’ve seen grand Mahler symphonies, hilarious musical comedy duos, bizarre yet brilliant electronic video-operas. Once, I stumbled down a grimy flight of steps and found myself in the coolest jazz bar.
Sometimes I look out of my window and can’t quite compute what I see – a cluster of iconic skyscrapers instead of the neat row of semi-detached houses that matched mine – but perhaps one day, London will stop being a bewildering, overwhelming, foreign dreamland and become a second home.
September 9, 2013
Addressing my absence and my short attention span
Life, eh?
…
In all seriousness, I’ve been through a massive lull in creativity recently that I’m only just struggling out of. Having writer’s block isn’t nice, triple-headed writer’s block is even worse, but when you’ve become accustomed to staring at blank Microsoft Word documents for hours on end, that’s when you really know how far you’ve fallen.
I’d also stopped reading! Yes, I know, unsightly. Frank Herbert’s “Dune” for some reason wasn’t resonating with me for some reason which, well, sucks really since I know that it’s a great book. Then came a foggy period where I did nothing but binge on music. Mmm, music.
But now I think that I am on the right track again, and this is starting to sound like one of those charity ads. Please donate to this struggling author… what was I initially trying to say? Ah yes, about my short attention span.
I like starting things; maintaining and/or finishing those same things is another matter. To me, this blog is a daunting thing and the longer I leave it, the less inclined I am to take it up again. Annoying voices in my brain tell me niggling things such as: ‘no one cares anyway’ or ‘no one reads these posts’ but I realise now that if I want the ear of the world then I have to act like I already have it, and that I have something of worth to say. The rest will follow.
Hmm, I really need should work out a way to embed images of some sort, those are always fun. On a side note, I’m currently dividing my attention between this blog and a performance of Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto No. 2. Really not the best method of productivity but I wuv it so much!
…
In all seriousness, I’ve been through a massive lull in creativity recently that I’m only just struggling out of. Having writer’s block isn’t nice, triple-headed writer’s block is even worse, but when you’ve become accustomed to staring at blank Microsoft Word documents for hours on end, that’s when you really know how far you’ve fallen.
I’d also stopped reading! Yes, I know, unsightly. Frank Herbert’s “Dune” for some reason wasn’t resonating with me for some reason which, well, sucks really since I know that it’s a great book. Then came a foggy period where I did nothing but binge on music. Mmm, music.
But now I think that I am on the right track again, and this is starting to sound like one of those charity ads. Please donate to this struggling author… what was I initially trying to say? Ah yes, about my short attention span.
I like starting things; maintaining and/or finishing those same things is another matter. To me, this blog is a daunting thing and the longer I leave it, the less inclined I am to take it up again. Annoying voices in my brain tell me niggling things such as: ‘no one cares anyway’ or ‘no one reads these posts’ but I realise now that if I want the ear of the world then I have to act like I already have it, and that I have something of worth to say. The rest will follow.
Hmm, I really need should work out a way to embed images of some sort, those are always fun. On a side note, I’m currently dividing my attention between this blog and a performance of Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto No. 2. Really not the best method of productivity but I wuv it so much!
August 9, 2013
Influences
I am a strange reader. I don’t actually have favourite authors, none that I follow religiously. The closest that I’ve ever come to that sort of behaviour is over a decade ago when I first encountered Roald Dahl and had a lot more time to sit about and systematically devour every book of his that I could find. Since then, the British education system happened to me and isn’t due to release its hold anytime soon!
When I am influenced, it is usually by ideas or concepts instead of authors, although their writing style is important in shaping my own voice. I also don’t judge how much an author has influenced me by how much of their work I have read. For example, I have read the whole Shopaholic series (guilty) and only one Oscar Wilde work (the Picture of Dorian Gray) but the latter affected me a lot more as a writer. So here are the books I consider the greatest influences for my first novel, Blue Ink.
Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll
This is probably the biggest. The idea for Blue Ink actually came to me after watching the Tim Burton adaptation of this. I was charmed by the portrayals of Alice and The Hatter (who had a much larger part thanks to Johnny Depp). Later, I realised that I should read the book which I ended up loving because it made so little sense and there was no limit to what could happen.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl
A Roald Dahl book had to make it among the ranks. Apart from Matilda, this was one of my favourites (though I was one of those weird children who also liked the sequel, must’ve been the barmy president) and opened my eyes to the possibilities of storytelling. Roald Dahl is probably the main reason I’ve retained an interest in English up until now, no matter how hard the school system works to sap the joy out of everything.
The Harry Potter Series – J. K Rowling
I think it’s safe to say that my love for fantasy started here. I remember watching the Harry Potter world from a distance as a young child thinking “it can’t be that great”. I took a chance on the Philosopher’s Stone, declared it amazing and thereby stated that fantasy was the best type of books there ever was. I’ve followed Harry’s journey right until the end and remain a big fan. (Well as big a fan as a reader like myself can be.)
Stardust – Neil Gaiman
The way Gaiman combines whimsy and dry wit is something that I greatly admire. Reading it felt like such a fairytale that I started violently when Yvaine, the fallen star, swore. But that just got me more hooked. There were so many elements to this book that appealed to both the child and the adult in me, which worked out rather well because I’m still in that odd transition stage between the two that the Spaniards apparently call ‘la edad del pavo’ (i.e the awkward age). ‘El pavo’ also happens to mean turkey. O_O My Spanish teacher likes to tell us facts like this.
Howl’s Moving Castle – Diana Wynne Jones
Another brilliantly bizarre book that I got from a childhood friend but I didn’t read properly until I had seen the Studio Ghibli adaptation. How silly of me, I know. There is a point in the storyline where book and movie depart drastically but I’ve found myself loving both versions. I guess I just have a weakness for zany things.
The Tough Guide to Fantasyland – Diana Wynne Jones
A sort of satirical analysis of fantasy worlds in the form of a traveller’s guide/dictionary. In a way, it was my bible for writing Blue Ink. Sometimes, I stayed true to the entries, sometimes I subverted them to see what happened. All in all, I just found it a fascinating and eye-opening read.
Special mentions:
The Picture of Dorian Gray – Oscar Wilde
The Edge Chronicles – Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell
Mort and the Wee Free Men – Terry Pratchett
His Dark Materials - Phillip Pullman
A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
The Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis
When I am influenced, it is usually by ideas or concepts instead of authors, although their writing style is important in shaping my own voice. I also don’t judge how much an author has influenced me by how much of their work I have read. For example, I have read the whole Shopaholic series (guilty) and only one Oscar Wilde work (the Picture of Dorian Gray) but the latter affected me a lot more as a writer. So here are the books I consider the greatest influences for my first novel, Blue Ink.
Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll
This is probably the biggest. The idea for Blue Ink actually came to me after watching the Tim Burton adaptation of this. I was charmed by the portrayals of Alice and The Hatter (who had a much larger part thanks to Johnny Depp). Later, I realised that I should read the book which I ended up loving because it made so little sense and there was no limit to what could happen.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl
A Roald Dahl book had to make it among the ranks. Apart from Matilda, this was one of my favourites (though I was one of those weird children who also liked the sequel, must’ve been the barmy president) and opened my eyes to the possibilities of storytelling. Roald Dahl is probably the main reason I’ve retained an interest in English up until now, no matter how hard the school system works to sap the joy out of everything.
The Harry Potter Series – J. K Rowling
I think it’s safe to say that my love for fantasy started here. I remember watching the Harry Potter world from a distance as a young child thinking “it can’t be that great”. I took a chance on the Philosopher’s Stone, declared it amazing and thereby stated that fantasy was the best type of books there ever was. I’ve followed Harry’s journey right until the end and remain a big fan. (Well as big a fan as a reader like myself can be.)
Stardust – Neil Gaiman
The way Gaiman combines whimsy and dry wit is something that I greatly admire. Reading it felt like such a fairytale that I started violently when Yvaine, the fallen star, swore. But that just got me more hooked. There were so many elements to this book that appealed to both the child and the adult in me, which worked out rather well because I’m still in that odd transition stage between the two that the Spaniards apparently call ‘la edad del pavo’ (i.e the awkward age). ‘El pavo’ also happens to mean turkey. O_O My Spanish teacher likes to tell us facts like this.
Howl’s Moving Castle – Diana Wynne Jones
Another brilliantly bizarre book that I got from a childhood friend but I didn’t read properly until I had seen the Studio Ghibli adaptation. How silly of me, I know. There is a point in the storyline where book and movie depart drastically but I’ve found myself loving both versions. I guess I just have a weakness for zany things.
The Tough Guide to Fantasyland – Diana Wynne Jones
A sort of satirical analysis of fantasy worlds in the form of a traveller’s guide/dictionary. In a way, it was my bible for writing Blue Ink. Sometimes, I stayed true to the entries, sometimes I subverted them to see what happened. All in all, I just found it a fascinating and eye-opening read.
Special mentions:
The Picture of Dorian Gray – Oscar Wilde
The Edge Chronicles – Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell
Mort and the Wee Free Men – Terry Pratchett
His Dark Materials - Phillip Pullman
A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
The Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis
August 2, 2013
Emerging Author at 4'o clock (approximately)
Hello, everyone. This is my first entry in my first ever blog. Naturally, I'm not quite sure what I'm doing yet. I've looked at the Goodreads author blogs of great writers for guidance...and I found Neil Gaiman taking over the Guardian book site and Veronica Roth announcing Kate Winslet being cast for her book's film interpretation. O_O
Since I can't write about such things (yet) I suppose I could summarise myself. I'm British, I love books, I live and breathe music and revel in quirkiness. I dislike spiders, narrow-mindedness and peanut butter. You can judge how tired I am by how terrible and frequent my jokes are. I write YA fiction for those who aren't looking for the well-tested "loser heroine"x"perfect hero" paranormal love triangle formula.
Chocolate Roald Dahl is my hero.
That's all for now. Let's hope I get better at blogging in the long run. Practice makes perfect, right?
Since I can't write about such things (yet) I suppose I could summarise myself. I'm British, I love books, I live and breathe music and revel in quirkiness. I dislike spiders, narrow-mindedness and peanut butter. You can judge how tired I am by how terrible and frequent my jokes are. I write YA fiction for those who aren't looking for the well-tested "loser heroine"x"perfect hero" paranormal love triangle formula.
That's all for now. Let's hope I get better at blogging in the long run. Practice makes perfect, right?
