Folks, I’m a bit embarrassed to tell you this, but I’ve been working on one novel for over ten years.
Ten. Bloody. Years.
At this point I’m asking myself, why am I bothering? What on earth is wrong with me?!
It’s been written, re-written and re-re-re-written the thing so many times I can no longer tell which way is up.
I’ve put in characters, taken them out, put them back in, changed the place, time and story arc so often it’s made my head spin, unspin, turn in the other direction and, occasionally, caused me to fall over.
Several times I’ve taken the story out to a quiet field and let it frolic around for a bit while I grimly loaded the metaphorical shotgun.
But, I couldn’t bring myself to kill it, so it’s followed me back home, like the big, dopey, annoying bastard it is.
Occasionally I’ll have a burst of inspiration, a writing spurt, follow a promising thread, be really happy with it, then… everything falls off a cliff.
I’ve spent money on books, online courses and e-books, YouTube clips, motivational talks etc. to find a trick to get the thing finished, and for a while the advice works.
Then it doesn’t.
Why?
What’s really stopping me?
I gave this a lot of thought and came up with, I think, it’s the idea of Perfection.
Whatever I write has to be perfect. I don’t want to churn out some penny dreadful pulp fiction novel full of cheap chuckles
Note: Penny dreadfuls and pulp fiction are two sides of the same coin: mass-produced, very cheap, literally a penny to buy, sensationalist and highly entertaining literature designed for the working class.
Nosirree! Not me. I want to write,
The Great Australian Novel
The quintessential tome that will move and live on in the minds of all who read it. It will be made into a movie, with sequels! It will become a classic! It will… actually, you get the point.
So, who am I trying to emulate?
Actually,
Who Has Written the Great Australian Novel?
I looked it up (to save you time) and here’s what Mr. Google came up with:
Cloudstreet by Tim Winton (1991)
A beloved Australian masterpiece that blends magic realism with gritty domestic drama. It follows two working-class families—the rough-and-tumble Pickles and the pious Lambs—as they share a massive, decrepit house in post-war Perth, navigating grief, faith, and the meaning of home.
The Secret River by Kate Grenville (2005)
A raw and confronting historical novel based on the early days of European settlement. It tells the story of William Thornhill, an English convict who takes up land on the Hawkesbury River, ultimately facing a devastating moral crisis as his ambitions clash with the local Indigenous Darug people. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]
True History of the Kelly Gang by Peter Carey (2000)
Winner of the Booker Prize, this novel reimagines the life of the infamous bushranger Ned Kelly. Written in a distinct, unpunctuated, and fiercely vernacular voice, it presents Kelly as both a violent outlaw and a complex, tragic folk hero fighting British colonial oppression. [1]
Carpentaria by Alexis Wright (2006)
An epic, sprawling, and fiercely political novel set in the Gulf of Carpentaria in far-north Queensland. This monumental work of Indigenous storytelling weaves together the lives of coastal clans, mining magnates, and the turbulent spirits of the land. [1, 2, 3]
My Brilliant Career by Miles Franklin (1901)
Written when Franklin was just a teenager, this is a pioneering feminist classic. Set in the rugged outback of New South Wales, it follows Sybylla Melvyn, a fiercely independent and spirited young woman who rejects traditional domestic life and the prospect of marriage to pursue her own ambition
Ok, I’ve read Cloudstreet… actually, I started it, didn’t finish it. Also started and didn’t finish Breath and Blueback.
Ditto for Peter Carey’s Kelly Gang novel. Didn’t really grab me from the start, but I lumbered on for a bit then tossed it aside. Let the record show I have made it through two of Petes’ other books and they didn’t particularly press any of my buttons enough to want to read them again.
My personal picks:
‘The Thornbirds’ by Colleen McCullough and anything written by Peter Watt (check him out folks).
I have a lot of other fave Oz authors, (Robert G. Barret, John O’Grady, John Birmingham, Frank Hardy, Colin Bowles, Colin Thiele etc.) spanning nearly a century of writing, but they’re not considered writers of Timeless Australian Classics; apparently.
So, what makes me think I can join this vaunted list?
Well, here’s
The Bad News
I can’t.
I, seriously, can NOT, write The Great Australian Novel.
(Well, certainly not with that attitude!)
This shortcoming has been added to a fairly long, and still growing, list of things I’d like to do, but can’t.
That’s OK.
I’m good at writing (sigh), penny dreadful pulp that might make you chuckle.
Like this cheap, paperback fodder, usually found in an old cardboard box in every workshop lunchroom I’ve ever sat in while shovelling sandwiches into my gob:
It’s pretty much Mills ‘n Boon for tradies.
So, What Now?
Right, it’s time I add my own penny dreadful novel to the list.
Whether you're ready or not literary world, another dog-eared, non-classic, forgettable yarn, is about to be thrust upon Australias’ unsuspecting readers.
In fact, I should be writing it right now, but I’m writing this article instead… about how I’m not writing my novel.
Stop judging me!
I’m doing a good enough job of that on my own, THANKYOU VERY MUCH!
So, it’s 10:38 a.m., in three minutes I’m going to sign off, open the heavily battered file in my PC with the latest version of ‘The Novel’ in it and start typing again.
I’ve reached the point of no return here people. Even if what I publish later this year is a complete dogs’ breakfast with errors so glaring you’ll need welding helmets to finish reading it, I DON’T CARE!
I want it out of my head, on the page and gone from my life.
And, hopefully, it will make you chuckle.
Cheers,
Gb
Note: it’s now 10:46 a.m. - I did some editing. Hang on… 10:47. Bugger! 10:55, the water got cut off and I had to call the council.
11.23… ah, give me a break!