(#12) New short fiction: Bowerbirds

Do you know, you can begin again?

Hello dear Joy Risers,

As I dive deeper into developing my new novel and writing the world of my main character, Maggie, I’m reminded of the joy (and tyranny!) of the blinking cursor on a blank page. I’m reminded of truths that exist all at once: embarking on a new creative project can bring intense feelings of joy, wonder, meaning, awe, gratitude, worry, fear, shame, uncertainty. I’m reminded that committing to walk in the unknown of a fledgling idea can be more daunting that we might believe… until we’re taking those steps inwards, to tend and draw that idea outwards. I’m also reminded that when we dwell in imagination and share what we find there, it is our human magic.

This is my fourth time writing a book and maybe the first time I’ve felt genuinely interested in observing how and when fear is presenting itself through the process (vs in the past wanting to set it on fire or take to to it with a bat whilst wearing a gown AKA Beyoncé from her Lemonade era).

It is ever humbling to notice how the forces of self doubt and the inner critic can feel utterly impossible to manage. And also to notice that if I don’t manage them, the real threat they pose to damming the free flow of my imagination as I make my way into Maggie’s story. Oh, and the friends they can invite along to the party! Procrastination. Imposter Syndrome. And, possibly the sneakiest of all, perfectionism.

At the root of the perfectionism tree is, of course, fear. A wild, unruly fear that if I dare to try, I’ll make something that is not ‘perfect’… and therefore will fail. Fail what? I don’t know. Everything. It’s that irrational. Thankfully, years of experience and practising cultivating awareness helps me to drag this fear tree into the light, where I can see and understand perfectionism for what it is: poison to creative expression and growth. And the concealment of this wondrous truth: even in fear trees, there’s magic to be found in the branches.

2008: one of my favourite dead trees where I lived on Anangu land in Australia’s Western Desert, that was often filled with singing finches.

Thinking back over what I’ve written throughout my life, whenever I’ve felt like my writing has ‘failed’, it also feels that nine times out of ten I likely wasn’t taking into account what I gained or learned or how I grew and bloomed - because I just fucking tried. And, in those moments of perceived failure, what I was really feeling was shame that my writing wasn’t, for whatever absurd reason, ‘perfect’ - an impossible expectation and yardstick.

My remedy for this at my desk this week? Reminding myself that creativity is a messy, magical process that offers us the most generous gift: to become, and keep becoming a wiser version of our creative selves.

As I wrote in The House that Joy Built:

Creating anything is a process, and writing first drafts is no exception. Maybe the single most powerful thing I’ve learned about being a writer is that a first draft, in all its absolute mess and shit-fulness, is actually perfect - all it needs to do is exist. All I need a first draft to do is hold the seeds of the story that I’ve put down on paper, while I go away to think about it, come back, go away, come back, over and over and over again through a process of revision, to nurture and grow those seeds until they split open, reach for the sun and bloom.

And so, today I have a new piece of fiction to share on The Joy Rise, as a reminder to myself, and to you - should you also need it - that nothing in creativity is ever wasted.

I wrote the first draft of Bowerbirds sixteen years ago, when trying to write freely through fear felt dangerous, terrifying, and full of sharp edges. It’s strange and fascinating how stories stay with us, as this one has with me. I’ve returned to it often through the years since 2009 and the story has gone through many iterations of itself before becoming the story it is today, which is the version I love the most. Reflecting on my process with this story causes me to think of refining a map through all of the twists and turns it took to find the treasure. I’m thrilled to share it with you in this month’s edition of Fevers & Enthusiasms. Scroll further down for the words of women that are keeping me going this month, in On My Corkboard. And a peek at what’s coming in The Joy Rise.

As ever, there is so much asking for our attention all the time - thank you for sharing your time with my words here and supporting my work.