An Interview With Krissy Kneen

Krissy Kneen was also kind enough to answer some questions about her experience and memories of Willow Patterns.

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1. What made you decide to be involved in the Willow Pattern project? 

I was asked to be involved and thought it sounded like fun. I didn't think anyone would judge my writing based on something written over 12 hrs so the stakes were low and the fun factor was high.

2. Did you have any prior relationship with any of the other authors? Was this an additional factor to doing to the project? 

I knew Chris Currie and Steven Amsterdam and Nick Earls pretty well and I really wanted to spend time with Steven who I rarely see so yes, that was a factor for sure.

3. Do you find working towards a deadline stifled your creativity or enhanced it?

I always give myself strict deadlines so it was similar to my normal work practice only super-charged.

4. Why was the symbol ‘Willow Patterns’ chosen as the link within the book – what is the significance there?

Willow pattern came out of our first half hour of chat on the day of writing. We wanted to find a linking thing to link all the stories and someone came up with the idea of a vase and someone else said willow pattern had a history etc so we googled it and liked it.

5. Did you have any ideas/plans on what to do coming into the project? Were there meetings beforehand? 

We knew it was going to be set in the library, and the Brisbane flood was mentioned as a linking thing. I knew I was going to write in the genre of pornography as that is where I write fastest so sex in the library was all I had in my head to start with.

6. Did you have a breaking point at all during the project – if so – at what point roughly during the 24 hours was this? What did you do to combat this? 

No breaking point. It was all fun. I was a little tired the next day at work though...

7. Could you run through the initial hours of the project for us – did you have a meeting before writing or did you all just start?

We started with a meeting and chatted for half an hour about what order things would be put in and what bits would link the stories then we raced off into it. Anita Heiss came to visit at some point and so I ducked off to the cafe for half an hour to have a beer with her but apart from that it was heads down the whole time.

8. How did you all communicate with each other during the project and ensure synergy with each entry? 

There was a whiteboard for notes and so people put notes up there. I think there were some jokes - I think I wrote some jokes up on the board but I can't remember what now. I was in a really playful mood but people were too busy to play with me which was a shame.

9. Were there any memorable moments from the project you would like to share? 

I remember coming back in the morning to visit the edit team and finding out that my pornographic scene had caused them all a terrible headache. The real life girl who did a walk on in my scene did not want to be associated with pornography.

10. What was the inspiration behind your particular chapter ‘Exquisite Corpse’? 

The whole game was like the surrealist game exquisite corpse and so that influenced my idea of using a dead person in my sex scene. It was all pretty crazy fun.

11. Nick Earls used some metafiction in his story in which nine writers are working in the library and one of the women vexes the others having reached the goal for amount of words first. From what you remember of the day and Nick's story was this an accurate portrayal? And if so, why Franz Kafka?

I haven't read the final book. I don't think anyone has read the final book. I think it is probably unreadable. It is a first furious draft. They are always pretty awful.

12. Would you ever do something like this again? 

I love games like this. I would certainly do it again.

An Interview With Christopher Currie

Here's what Chris shared with us when we asked him about his experience working in Willow Patterns.

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1. What made you decide to be involved in the Willow Pattern project?

It was too good an opportunity to refuse. I’ve always been a fan of writing produced under restrictions/constraints, as it always creates something interesting!

2. Did you have any prior relationship with any of the other authors? Was this an additional factor to doing to the project? 

I knew a good deal of the people working on the project (and if I hadn’t met them in person I’d talked to them on social media) so it was a deciding factor for sure.  

3. Do you find working towards a deadline stifled your creativity or enhanced it?

A bit of both I guess. As I said, I’m interested in writing produced under special conditions, and I think in this case it produced writing that perhaps we wouldn’t have done otherwise.  

4. Why was the symbol ‘Willow Patterns’ chosen as the link within the book – what is the significance there?

It’s a little hazy, but we were trying to come up with themes, patterns and signifiers, and the idea of a “Willow Pattern” plate arose. I think choosing it as the title came after.

5. Did you have any ideas/plans on what to do coming into the project? Were there meetings beforehand?

We didn’t meet beforehand, and while it was clear some of the writers had come with plans/outlines for their writing, I came with nothing! I wanted my writing to be truly spontaneous.  

6. Did you have a breaking point at all during the project – if so – at what point roughly during the 24 hours was this? What did you do to combat this? 

I’m not sure I had a “breaking point” per se. I wrote straight into Wordpress, so I took mini-breaks to save my work and check Twitter, where we had a hashtag going.

7. Could you run through the initial hours of the project for us – did you have a meeting before writing or did you all just start? 

From memory, we had a brief meeting to discuss what ideas everyone had, and where each piece would fit in a rough timeline. Some writers had strong ideas of where and when their piece would be set, but I was happy to fill in any gaps. We then got down to writing for a few hours and then reconvened to see where and if our stories could start to intersect in any way.  

8. How did you all communicate with each other during the project and ensure synergy with each entry? 

We had whiteboards up where we put ideas, characters etc. The idea of a Librarian as a central character came early on, as did the concept of “The Flood”. Apart from a few set meetings, we were free to work as we liked. The majority of us stayed around a boardroom table, while others worked at other places in the library or the QWC office.

9. What was your inspiration behind your chapter ‘Uninterrupted Study’? 

As with much of my writing, I just started writing. I had a vague idea of the two other pieces my section was bridging, but apart from that I had a setting and a couple of characters talking. I tied in the idea of “The Flood” with the main character having never seen the ocean. Apart from that, it was my stock in trade: a coming-of-age story, albeit set during something of a crisis. I tied in the radio competition from Nick Earls’ story, details like the Tibetan horns from P.M. Newton’s story etc. It verged into some fantastical detail towards the end, which surprised me, but I went with it.  

10. A couple of years back you set a challenge on your blog Furious Horses to write a new short story everyday between March 2008 and March 2009. In your experience with doing that previous project and the deadlines you faced, did you find your approach to how you wrote your chapter for Willow Pattern easier? Or was it still quite a challenge? 

Yes, so again I really enjoyed the various limitations set by Furious Horses, especially a month of stories based on suggestions/restrictions curated by literary journal The Lifted Brow, where past contributors set me a challenge each day. That said, these challenges only resulted in a short story, not a 5000 word piece of writing.  

11. Were there any memorable moments from the project you would like to share? 

I think my favourite moment was when I tweeted that I would like a Coke Zero and the now-head of the QWC, Meg Vann, brought me one! The power of social media.  

12. Would you ever do something like this again? 

Absolutely!

An Interview With Keith Stevenson

While The 24-Hour Book used 9 writers to create the interwoven stories, there was also a studious and attentive editing team ensure the work the writers produced was polished and perfected. Keith Stevenson was one of those talented editors. You can read about his experience during the 24 hours in his blog, but he also kindly took some time to answer some questions we had. And here they are:

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1. What made you decide to be involved in the Willow Patterns project? 

The sheer craziness of writing, editing and publishing an anthology in 24 hours was a big drawcard for me getting involved in the project. The fact I’d worked with teams of student editors on anthology projects before through the University of Sydney meant I felt I had the additional skills necessary to manage such an unusual project from the editing point of view. But really, I just couldn’t refuse such an audacious proposal?

2. Did you have any prior relationship with any of the authors? Was this an additional factor to doing to the project?

Rjurik Davidson and I are in the same writing group, and I’d heard of some of the other authors involved. But I was quite happy to work with any authors who came aboard. I’ve worked with a lot of different authors as editor for Aurealis Magazine in the past, and working on anthologies for coeur de lion, my publishing company, so I was ready for anything.

3. Why was the symbol ‘Willow Patterns’ chosen as the link within the book – what is the significance there? 

I can’t remember who exactly suggested it, but the idea was to have a linking object that would tie the anthology together. I think in the morning everyone was a bit worried about whether the whole thing would hang together, so the Willow Pattern Vase was a bit of a safety blanket for the authors. Something they could each incorporate. It could have been anything really, but as it happened, it was an inspired choice.

4. As editor, your role was slightly different to that of the authors; could you run through the tasks you had to complete during the process? 

During the actual writing part, a lot of my time was spent working with the book software, just to make sure that the conversion was going to work properly. So I was playing with generating ebook files and then viewing them on a reader to make sure the various formatting elements were displaying properly. In the evening I also briefed the editing students because this was a very unusual situation for an editor. I’ve said before, you can’t edit a book in 24 hours. All you can do is your best to ensure the manuscript is free from spelling and grammatical errors and the story makes sense eg any plot inconsistencies are cleared up. Because the editors were not going to be able to start until the authors were finished – and off to bed for a well-earned rest – the normal back and forth querying between editor and author couldn’t take place. As a result I had to brief the students to be a bit more autonomous in terms of decision-making about the manuscript, while still preserving the authors’ intentions and voice. I was available for emergencies, but thankfully none occurred during the night. And in the morning I had a few short hours to go over the edits and address any major problems before publication deadline.

5. Did you have any ideas/plans on what to do coming into the project? Were there meetings beforehand? 

I met with Simon Groth the project coordinator and we emailed back and forth about how the project should be run, how the editors would work and what needed to be done to make sure it – hopefully – went smoothly. I also had a few email exchanges with the student editors to explain the process beforehand and talk through any issues. After that we just crossed our fingers.

6. Was there a point during the 24 hour time frame, were you felt you didn't have enough motivation to finish the project by the deadline? If so, what did you do to re-motivate yourself? 

No. Failure was not an option. We said we’d do it and we knew when the 24 hours clocked over ‘something’ would be published. It’s great that it turned out so well.

7. As editor, did you feel any added pressure to ensure the stories were all proofread and cohesive with one another? How did you ensure this was done effectively in such a short amount of time? 

Like I said I knew up front that a full edit job was not possible given the project constraints. We could only do our best to address the most glaring errors. In terms of consistency between the stories that was really down to the authors, and they caucused a couple of times just to talk about how the stories were developing and where there were areas that one story could leverage off another. The authors were completely focused and very professional in their approach to the work. The cohesiveness of the finished article is really down to them, because with a team of editors and a short timeframe it wasn’t possible to form a comprehensive editorial view of the book.

8. When editing the authors work, were there any significant commonalities you discovered between stories eg. a particular word frequently used, a common grammar mistake, a certain time people would send their drafts? 

No, there wasn’t time to review the work that closely and the editing was spread over several different editors. We were just focused on getting the basics right.

9. Were there any memorable moments from the project you would like to share? 

The caucus meetings were a high point, and pizza and beer J. It was a real pleasure to meet the student editors in the flesh and feel their enthusiasm for the project. They did a great job. And of course when Simon pressed the publish button and we cracked the champagne, there was a huge sense of relief and accomplishment.

10. Would you ever do something like this again? 

Sure. Where do I sign up?

Des 2. Alone Together

As artists, especially writers, we clasp to our work so closely as we hide our papers under our arms. We are often intimidated to share our works with other talented artists and can become insecure and think…Is this good enough? Will other people like this? But is their work better? I am sure nearly all writers have felt this way and when collaborating with other writers, we would become even more protective and insecure of our work. I mean, I compare myself to Charles Bukowski and am often left feeling let down and jealous of his magnificent writing mind. In a Brain Pickings article titled, Annie Dillard on Writing put together by Maria Popova, Dillard states,

“The notion that one can write better during one season of the year than another Samuel Johnson labelled, “Imagination operating upon luxury.” Another luxury for an idle imagination is the writer’s own feeling about the work. There is neither a proportional relationship, nor an inverse one, between a writer’s estimation of a work in progress and its actual quality. The feeling that the work is magnificent and the feeling that it is abominable, are both mosquitoes to be repelled, ignored, or killed, but not indulged.”

What Dillard says hits a little too close to home. As a writer I can sometimes indulge in my work too deeply. Instead of questioning ourselves and over-analysing our writing, we should just write and write and write, whether we think it is a masterpiece or rubbish, just keep going. No work is set in stone and can always be edited and changed. It is all part of the creative process and becoming comfortable with your work, but there is always room for improvement. Creating art is to be vulnerable. It is allowing other people to take a visit into the deepest corners of your mind and to accept whatever criticisms or praises come your way. The most rewarding thing for me when writing and listening to what other people feel about my work is when they say, “I can relate to that.” To read something that a stranger has written with their heart sitting on the desk next to them and feeling like you can relate to what this person is going through is the most rewarding thing about reader/writer relationships. Yes, some may say, that we read to be informed or entertained, but the most significant reason why I read and write is to feel less alone and to make others feel the same.

Creating real and true works, pouring your heart and soul into your writing is what we need more of. To stop worrying what other people think of our work and just create by staying true to ourselves. We must not indulge in our insecurities; to let it all go, write and fearlessly share it with others. Because what is the point of creating something if it cannot be shared? Dillard says it perfectly once again,

 “One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now… Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.”

Therefore, are there times when you have been too afraid to share your work? Or been too critical on yourself? If so, why? The fact that you have already created something is brave in itself.

Ryan 2. Level Of Reality

I write that Nick Earls tells that Marto records Krissy Kneen saying: Franz Kafka, preferably dead.

Ever since reading Hamlet I have loved the literary device of metafiction. It is the ability for a story to comment upon itself, for a piece of art within the fiction to move the acts of the story like it does in real life, which has so fascinated me. The use of this considerably postmodern technique in Willow Pattern by Nick Earls, in his chapter Aftermath, really resonated with me. In the chapter the reader is given a tour of the flooded library through the first person narration of Marto, a babysitter of sorts for two eccentric radio hosts. Introduced on this tour are a group of nine writers under the banner of THE FUTURE OF THE BOOK. Sound familiar?

Patricia Waugh defines metafiction as “a term given to fictional writing which self-consciously and systematically draws attention to its status as an artefact in order to pose questions about the relationship between fiction and reality”.

A master of metafiction, Italo Calvino’s novel If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller tells the story of a reader trying to read a book entitled If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller. At a conference in Florence, Calvino stated that “the spectator must not abandon himself passively and emotionally to the illusion…but must be urged to think and to participate”.

It is from this paper that I have constructed the statement identifying the levels of reality within Aftermath:

I write that Nick Earls tells that Marto records Krissy Kneen saying: Franz Kafka, preferably dead.

Each level of reality here is determined by the one preceding – think Inception. The Kafka is a version fancied by Krissy; Krissy, an observation of Marto, as interpreted by Nick; and Nick a reading of “I”, a representation of self. This “I” may signify myself but it is not me, it is a projection that is always called into play while writing. It may be a projection of a real part of myself or a fictitious mask, and is subject to change according to what is being written.

The effects of this compounding reality is noticeable in my own reading of Willow Pattern, in which Nick Earls doesn’t specifically name the writers, I am merely ascribing his characters names from the characters within Nick’s level of reality – my past; your more distant past. For you, the reader, represent yet another level of reality, determining each level below you, interpreting each in your own way, just as Krissy interprets a recently deceased Kafka as a possible sexual partner when you perhaps, may not.

To complicate matters in this exercise we could have substituted Krissy for the Nick within the story, still a separate reality from the Nick who wrote the chapter. Nick Earls introduces Marto as the first person narrator between himself and, well, himself. The reader supposes Marto is a fictional character, or rather an invented figure, occupying a fictional world in which mysterious creatures fall from tears in the sky and steal families and roaming sand storms transmigrate whole towns. If some of the characters of the written world resemble closely real people in this world of experience we begin to wonder just how much basis in truth the story, and the book, and really any story or book, actually have. Does Angela Slatter really know a supernatural detective? And if so can she help fix my wi-fi?

What makes metafiction all the more complicated and compelling is the idea that each level of reality is not only affected by the one preceding it but also by the one succeeding it. “Each element projected reacts in its turn on the element that projects it; it transforms and conditions it”.

Like my writing affects me, it changes me from who I was before the time of writing. Nick Earls’ depiction of himself has had an effect on him. We can also assume that Krissy Kneen has read Willow Pattern and that reading a representation of herself has changed her. Whether she identifies with the projection, remembers the conversation, or believes it to be entirely fictional, it affects her. All stories affect us all. As Calvino says, metafiction simply brings this to the foreground for a closer analysis of the important relationship between art and life.

Calvino, Italo. 1986. The Uses of Literature. FL, U.S.A.: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. 
Waugh, Patricia. 1984. Metafiction: the theory and practice of self-conscious fiction. KY, U.S.A.: Routledge.

Kat 2. Work Self To Lather. Rinse, Repeat

Life lesson #34 from the remix: writing about procrastination makes me procrastinate. A lot.

It’s ridiculous. So far today I’ve wandered from my laptop six times, for no real reason. I’ve thrown on music, cleaned… done everything but sit and type.

As a writer, I’m a fantastic procrastinator. I’m even better at justifying procrastination. I moved house this week, and if unpacking isn’t the perfect procrastination tool, I don’t know what is. Every time I look up from my screen, I see something else I should go and sort. Every time I look back down, I remember how the chairs are too short for the table I’m working at. Maybe I should go and get the chairs from the garage? Maybe another coffee?

The silly thing is that I love to write. When I’m terrorising my keyboard or notebook, I’m happy. It’s when I stop that I notice the things I should be doing. I’m not alone, though. When the proverbial starter pistol fired for the 24 hour project, the determined slap of keys didn’t exactly echo through the room. Many of the writers found themselves going for coffee, or posting online- anything but writing their story.

Until last year, the idea of procrastinating with something I loved baffled me. It wasn’t until one of my lecturers made an offhand remark that I understood. Like with most things, writers procrastinate because writing is hard.

Baumeister and Vohs tell us that we procrastinate for many reasons. Sometimes, it’s to protect ourselves from the negatives of poor performance- this is especially true if it’s a task you’re being evaluated on (and haven’t I just wandered into dangerous territory?) Another theory is that procrastinators hold a sense of self-uncertainty from early in life. If we got in trouble for poor results, we’re more likely to procrastinate. This is also true if you had controlling parents. Which is all well and good, but my upbringing was fine and failure isn’t exactly high on my priority lists. Right now, I’m working myself into a lather over a severe case of life-in-the-way.

Thankfully, it may not be all about childhood issues and forging parental bonds with teachers or bosses. According to Clegg and Bailey (2007, 1307), there are four types of procrastination:

(1) academic procrastination, concerning postponing academic assignments; 

(2) life routine procrastination, dealing with current life routines, such as buying Christmas presents or filling out tax forms; 

(3) decisional procrastination, which means lack of timely decision making, in minor or major issues; and 

(4) compulsive procrastination, which includes task and decisional procrastination in the same person. These four types may be subsumed into task and decisional procrastination. 

In his memoir, On Writing, Stephen King argues that the cure for procrastination is ritual and habit. Force your butt in a chair every day at the same time, and for a certain amount of time or word-count, and your brain eventually learns that it’s writing time. Have a writing spot, and use it daily. It’s advice I’ve followed to the best of my ability, but now that my writing spot isn’t available, I’m
floundering a bit. Somewhere along the line, I’ve started associating my desk with my ability to write. I’d advise not doing that. Maybe it’s a case of write daily, but write in different locations so you remember that it’s not the stuff around you, it’s the stuff inside of you that matters.

So, for what it’s worth, here’s what I’ve learned about procrastination this week

• I’m brilliant at it (how about you? What’s your crowning moment of procrastination?)
• Remove the word ‘should’ from your vocabulary. It’s a dodgy word at the best of times, but it’s a way of making you feel guilty about whatever it is that you’re doing.
• Realise that not everything has to be done now.
• Don’t associate stuff with your ability to write/draw/do your work.
• If all else fails, have a friend who will shamelessly bribe you with cupcakes and DVD nights. 
•  

Baumeister, Roy F. and Vohs, Kathleen D. 2007. The Encyclopedia of Social Psychology. Accessed September 17, 2013. 
Clegg, Stewart R. and Bailey, James R. 2007. International Encyclopedia of Organisation Studies. Accessed September 16, 2013 
King, Stephen. 2000. On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft. New York: Scibner Publishing. 

A Lost Letter From Lyn

Note: Letter found at God’s Acre, Archerfield.

Letter #59 

Dear Dad,
I suppose I should start with the obvious first. I’m alright. No spider bites, no cuts to help them scent us. We’re good.
It took far longer than we thought to make it to Archerfield without the car. The airfield was deserted, just as you thought it would be. I’d hoped you’d be there. Seriously, where are you? 

There were spider trees everywhere, even some inside the buildings. We found a truck on site, and hit some local stores for supplies (thank God for Bunnings, right? Never start the end of days without one). It took a week, but we’ve got a pretty good fortress set up, and a food and water supply. Even the plane fuel is good for the burnings. If the floods come back we’re screwed, but who isn’t? 

Dave says we’re already screwed, so it doesn’t matter if we’re screwed and soggy. He’s such an idiot. Honestly, you were right. Never bring your ex to the end of the world. There’ll be nothing but bitching and whining if you do. You told me, and I ignored you. I should have let that spider gnaw his balls off when I had the chance. 

The trees here scream as they burn. It shouldn’t surprise me, but no matter how often I clear the airfield, I can’t get used to the sound. It’s this high pitched wailing that gets picked up by the survivors until the whole airfield echoes with the sound. I learned fast to make sure I burned all of the trees. If you leave any left nearby, they wail all night. The funeral rites of trees. Who knew? 

Ryn and Dave refuse to help maintain the boundaries. They say that for all they know, they could be murdering a loved one. Murdering? I mean, really? I think they just can’t stand the screaming. Neither can I, but someone has to do it, right? I wish I had the luxury of letting ‘I don’t want to’ be an actual reason not to do something. They say ‘live and let live’, but the trees aren’t exactly playing by those rules. They’re aware enough that the ungrounded trees know to wait till dark to try and reach us. 

It takes a few days for new ungrounded to make their way close enough to us to be a problem. So far, none have gotten too close before they’ve taken root, and we’ve even managed to scare some of the ungrounded away with fire. If they stay and take root, they get burned. Ryn and Dave don’t want me to widen the gap between us and the trees, but it needs to be done, right? The spiders are moving further from their trees, and staying away from them longer. We’re ok for now, but how long will that last? You said to keep Amber safe, but I don’t know how long we can keep playing nice. The spiders are heading for the garden beds- I’ve found two hiding under the leaves already. Amber isn’t even allowed to garden anymore, and she’s furious. 

I know what you’d say if you were here- screw ‘em. If they’re ok getting bitten, they can go adopt a spider. We’re trying to escape them, not make them pets. 

I wish you were here. 

- 

Hey Dad, it’s two days later. I didn’t have a choice. I did it. While they were all sleeping this morning, I snuck out with the super soakers full of petrol (for the spiders), and the jerry can. The spiders mostly hide near the trees in the daylight- it’s the best time to kill them. 

Dave woke up as the third tree burned. I’ve never heard him so angry. The son of a bitch punched me right in the face! 

Dad, he’d been bit a week ago! He’s been trying to stop the burns because he’s about two days from being one of the ungrounded.

I didn’t have a choice. Two days, and the spiders would come as he called. He said you’re dead. Everyone is. That he watched the spiders take you. It’s just Amber and me left, and we couldn’t last long. He pushed Ryn into the reach of a pair of spiders yesterday.

He murdered her. 

I didn’t have a choice. If it’s just the two of us, then I need to protect her. Why can’t you just come back already? Where the hell are you? 

Please don’t be dead. 

The ungrounded are slow, slow enough to dump petrol on. As a person changes into one of them, they start moving slower, too. They all sound pretty much the same, though.

I wish I’d had a choice. I wish Ryn, at least, hadn’t been bitten. Dave- not so much. 

Help us, Daddy. 

Lyn.