Karen Comer

Collecting Stories

Five poems which made my heart sing!

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Word poem made with block wooden letters next to a pile of other letters over the wooden board surface composition

 

I’ve had a busy week doing ‘all the things’ – you know, from work to parenting to writing to life admin to volunteering … And as I couldn’t fit in one more of the ‘things’, I decided to repost this blog post about poems from a couple of years ago. Because even with all the ‘things’, there is still room for  a little poetry.

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I’ve recently had a few conversations about poems with strangers in public places – not something I usually do!

A couple of weeks ago, I had two meetings in the city to discuss corporate storytelling workshops, where I mentioned that I often use poetry as examples for rhythm, alliteration, metaphor and similes. On the way home, I hopped on and off a tram, and as I was waiting at a stop for the next tram, an older lady sitting on the tram bench started chatting to me. At first, I was a little non-committal but then I remembered my manners and turned to her to engage in the conversation properly. We discussed tram timetables, wearing heels and the weather before she asked me what I did. When I replied that I was an editor and writer, she almost jumped out of her seat and hugged me – ‘So am I!’ she said. So Jean (because we were on a first name basis pretty quickly!) told me how she edited and wrote small books on Christian poetry. And they had just organised a second print run for their latest collection.

This week, I was reading a book in a waiting room while filling in time for an appointment when the receptionist and another patient started discussing this patient’s wife’s book. I did eavesdrop for a little while – and then joined in the conversation and found out that the book in question was a book of poetry.

So, for anyone who has ever doubted that poetry was not relevant or commercial to Australians today – they are wrong, because I have two random conversations to prove it!

I have always enjoyed reading poetry and regret that I don’t read enough of it now. My cousin Cath lent me a book of poetry as a kid, and I loved it so much, I bought my own copy which I still have. There are certain poems which have stayed with me, and I thought I’d share them here.

Cinderella by Roald Dahl – I learnt this funny poem off by heart as a kid and my kids think it’s hilarious today.

The highway man by Alfred Noyes – this poem was in my cousin’s book and it is still a favourite. You have probably heard or read this one. I doubly loved it when Anne in the mini-series, Anne of Green Gables, recited it at a Prince Edward Island competition. I recently used it as an example in a grade 4 writing workshop.

Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson – I studied this poem in VCE Literature. My teacher was a fabulous poetry teacher and really helped us to understand the significance of each line. I still have his handout with faded type, and my pencil notes written in the margins. Think I will have this tattooed on my forehead when I’m older.

How do I love thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning – I chose to have a few lines from this poem printed on our wedding booklets – which as of last week, was nineteen years ago!

The journey by Mary Oliver – once I had kids, I really appreciated this poem. It is relevant to everyone, no matter what stage of your journey.

Anyone else have a favourite poem to share? Or tell me about the ‘things’ you are doing?

 

Naming – a short story

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Stringybark

A couple of years ago, I had an adult short story published by Stringybark Press in one of their anthologies. It’s part of the collection of modern fairy tales I’m working on. I thought I’d share it here for you to enjoy!

Naming

I watch them every morning from my bedroom window at the front of the house. I kneel on my bed and pull the blind up a little bit so I can see them. They stand between the two cars parked in their driveway. Rob wears a suit with a shirt and tie. Julie wears a pretty dress. Sometimes her hair is in a ponytail, sometimes she wears it loose. They reach towards each other, and he puts his hand on her back and she puts her hand around his neck and they kiss. Kiss, kiss, kiss, for a really long time. Sometimes they say goodbye in a slightly different spot and I can’t see them properly through the bushes between our house and theirs. But I always hear Rob’s car drive off first down the street, then I hear Julie’s car leave. Then I open my blind all the way.

They are so nice, our neighbours. Julie works at the office for a big bakery and always leaves a cardboard box full of bakery sweets, like jam donuts and apple scrolls and custard tarts at our front door on Friday evenings. So now Friday is dessert night. It used to be Saturday, but now it’s Friday.

Fridays are a good day now. They used to be a bad day, because we had sport at school. Well, I have sport at my school. My younger brother, Dan, has sport at his school on Monday and Wednesday. I go to a different school. The sign at the front of my school says it is a special school for children with special needs, so all children can reach their potential. I know this is not true. Because some of the children here have already reached their potential. Sam, for example, is never going to learn any more about maths. He knows some maths, but he’s never going to learn any more and he’s fourteen already. I am only twelve, but my potential for maths is still growing. I heard Mr Tallin tell Mum that I have great potential for maths, maybe up to Year 10. But my potential for sport is not good – I can only catch the ball three out of ten times, and not every sports day. Just a good sports day.

This Friday, when Julie comes over to give Dan and me the box of bakery treats, she tells us she has some news. Some exciting news. She and Rob are going to have a baby. Mum gives her a big hug and makes her come inside to sit at the table and tell us all about it. Dan goes outside to play basketball – he always practises after school until Mum tells him it is homework time – but I stay inside.

‘Is this Julie’s potential, Mum? Is this the best she can do? Is this why it is really exciting?’

Mum and Julie smile a special sort of smile at each other. ‘Well, Pat, having a baby is an amazing thing to do,’ says Julie, folding her hands on our scratched kitchen table. ‘But I think I can have a baby and still do some of my work potential at the same time.’

I open the bakery box to see what Julie has given us today. Lemon tarts, jam donuts and fruit buns. I like the donuts best.

‘Actually, it’s Paddy today. My name is Paddy.’

Julie nods politely but I know she doesn’t understand. My name is very important to me. It’s Patrick David Lamond. Sometimes I like to be called Pat, sometimes Paddy and some days Patrick. Sometimes Boy-o, but only by Dad. Patrick is for a bad day, Pat is for an ok day and Paddy is for a good day.

And I can’t quite work out what Julie means. So I put it in the box in my head marked ‘Adults’ – it’s for things that adults say that I don’t understand. There are a lot of things in that box. But I do know one thing – kiss, kiss, kiss does mean a baby. Lisa in my class told me that. She knows a lot about babies because she has three younger brothers and sisters at her house. And she is always playing with dolls in the home corner. Sometimes she makes me play too. I have to be the dad, and hold the baby while she cooks dinner. She even showed me how to change the baby’s nappy and pat it gently so it would fall asleep. Lisa can’t write very well because she doesn’t hold her pencil properly but she knows how to hold a baby.

‘What about names, Julie?’ asks Mum, bringing two cups of tea to the table.

Julie shrugs her shoulders and laughs. ‘Oh, Rob and I have a list of girls’ names we like, so that’s sorted. But we like completely different boys’ names. So we are just calling the baby Rumplestiltskin for now!’

After Julie has her baby boy, she stays at home and doesn’t go out to work any more and doesn’t give us boxes of bakery treats on Fridays. So Fridays are bad days again because there is sport and there are no treats. Dan thinks Fridays are bad too, because he has no sport and no treats.

Rob goes back to work but Julie doesn’t kiss him between the cars any more. Sometimes I see Julie in her dressing gown holding the baby at the front door, making the baby wave his little hand. Sometimes the curtains are still closed in their bedroom window after I come home from school, and Mum says that Julie might be very tired because the baby might have cried in the night. Julie often comes over to our house with the baby, and sometimes she cries a bit and sometimes the baby cries a bit, and Mum makes her a cup of tea and holds the baby so Julie can go back home and have a shower. She doesn’t wear her pretty dresses any more. Usually, she wears tracksuit pants and a t-shirt.

One day after school I hear Julie’s baby crying and crying. Mum is in the middle of cooking something complicated in the kitchen so she can’t help Julie. I go next door and open the back door. Julie is crying on the couch and the baby is crying, too. She cries even more when she sees me.

‘I can hold the baby for you while you have a shower,’ I say. This is what Mum says.

Julie cries some more.

I walk over to the couch and put my hands out, and Julie gives me the baby. She needs two hands to find the tissues and blow her nose. The baby cries some more but I pat it gently just like Lisa at school showed me. I even sing the traditional lullaby Mrs Blackwell taught us last year.

Sleep, baby, sleep,
Thy father guards the sheep,
Thy mother shakes the dreamland tree,
And from it fall sweet dreams for thee.
Sleep, baby, sleep.

 The baby stops crying. Julie stops crying.

‘I think I have good potential to make the baby stop crying.’

‘I think you do, too, Pat,’ says Julie, and she smiles.

‘Paddy, are you in here? You shouldn’t be bothering Julie.’ It is Mum, standing at Julie’s back door.

‘Oh, no, Catherine, he’s fine. Pat’s helping me out – he’s just stopped all the tears!’

‘Well, as long as he’s helping and not bothering,’ says Mum. She uses her strict voice but she smiles at me. It always confuses me when she does that. And usually she does this when there are other people around. Is she happy with me or cross with me? I can never work it out. Something else to go in the ‘Adults’ box in my mind.

Julie rummages around in the pantry and finds me a chocolate biscuit.

It is a good day.

After a week, I go over to visit Julie to see if I still have my baby potential. The baby is lying on a blue and green rug on the floor, and Julie is waving a rattle in front of him. She lets me hold the rattle and I make a jingling noise for the baby.

‘Hi, Rumplestiltskin,’ I say to him. I know Rumplestiltskin isn’t his name but I don’t like his name so that’s what I call him.

‘See? I still have my baby potential,’ I tell Julie.

She smiles at me and starts to say something but the phone rings. When she answers it, she says lots of words like ‘I agree,’ and ‘Mmm,’ and ‘That all sounds possible.’

I don’t say anything because Mum has taught Dan and me that you don’t talk while someone is on the phone. I just sit next to Rumplestiltskin to teach him that you don’t make a lot of noise when someone is on the phone.

When Julie says, ‘Bye,’ and puts the phone down, she sits opposite me on the rug and touches the baby’s cheek.

‘Gosh, that was someone from my work on the phone, Pat. They want me to start work soon, maybe some work from home next week.’

I just keep waving the baby’s rattle in front of him. Sometimes adults talk like this, and I don’t know what to say. I only know what to say because I say what Mum or Dad or my teachers say.

Rumplestiltskin says nothing too but he smiles at me.

‘You will make an excellent babysitter one day, Pat, you are just so responsible.’

‘Thank you. Can I have another chocolate biscuit, please? And can you please call me Paddy today? Today, I am Paddy.’

Julie doesn’t have any chocolate biscuits today but she gives me a lamington. A lamington is even better than a chocolate biscuit because it is bigger and still has chocolate in it.

Later that week, I visit Julie and Rumplestiltskin again. Julie smiles when she sees me.

‘Come in, Pat, come in. I’m guessing you want to see my little man? He’s just lying on his rug, all wrapped up, ready for his sleep. You can have just a little look at him while I check something on the computer, and then he can have his sleep.’

Julie walks into the study and I look at Rumplestiltskin lying on the blue and green baby rug, then I pick him up to make sure I still have my baby potential. He looks at me and does not cry. Then I wonder if he has potential. Will he be a maths potential baby like me or a catching the ball potential baby like Dan or will he have looking after babies potential like Lisa?

I decide that all babies have the potential for walking. Well, except for Olivia and Bella and Luka who come to school in wheelchairs and can’t walk at all. Maybe I should check if Julie’s baby has the potential for walking.

I hold up the baby by his arms and let him dangle down. He is all wrapped up and I can’t see his feet. I lie him down again on the floor and unwrap him – there is a lot of material that is tucked around him. Once it is off, I can see his little feet, sticking out of the bottoms of his tiny white suit. I can hear Julie in the study, talking to someone on the phone.

‘That’s better, Rumple. Now you can walk.’

I stand over him, holding him under his arms, his feet just touching the floor.

‘Come on, Rumplestiltskin,’ I say in a gentle voice. ‘You can walk.’

He starts to cry. I move him around a bit and hold his hands with mine so his little arms are stretched over his head. He is so little, his head doesn’t even reach my knees.

I bend down over him, still holding his tiny hands. I use my really encouraging voice, the voice that Mrs Breen uses with me when she really, really wants me to catch the ball. ‘You can do it, Rumple, I believe in you. You can walk.’

But he doesn’t walk and cries louder.

His hands start to slip from mine. Too late, I remember that catching things is not my potential.

Julie comes rushing in from the study as Rumplestiltskin crumples onto the floor.

‘Oh, what the hell are you doing, Pat? Oh, precious one,’ she cries, scooping the baby into her arms. ‘Mummy’s here, it’s ok, you won’t get hurt.’

‘You’d better go, Pat. You can’t stay here any more.’

‘Actually, it’s Patrick, my name is Patrick today.’

Different ways of thinking

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There are so many different types of creativity and different ways to harness it. There’s also different ways to be logical and methodical and as many permutations as there are people for combining creativity and practicality.

I am a blend of inspirational and practical thinking – I do love to be organised because it means there’s more head space for creativity. So my pantry is a little obsessively neat and organised because that allows me to be more creative in the kitchen. But creativity comes first – this week, I forgot to put petrol in the car – yes, again!

In the children’s writing workshops I presented over the school holidays, the kids came up with many different ways to plan their stories. I offered both a linear approach and a more free-flowing, visual way to map out their stories in their writers’ notebooks.

Some kids naturally turned to the page with a list of questions and answered them chronologically. Others were drawn to the round diagram of the hero’s journey to generate ideas. Others drew pictures of their characters, created a flow chart or used a combination of stick figures and words to plan their story.

Our world needs diverse thinkers and doers, and encouraging kids to map out their stories creatively – both fictional and real-life – is an important life skill.

Quest writing workshops

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A vial full of unicorn tears, an old book with a hand drawn map, a pack of potion recipes, a feather, a baby dragon … these were just a few of the treasures found in my quest box for our writing workshops.

But really, the treasure was the dozen or so kids I taught writing to this week. They were enthusiastic about the writing activities and dedicated themselves to their stories with imagination, passion and skill. One of the workshop participants even came dressed in her unicorn onesie!

I felt I was doing exactly what I was put here on this earth to do – inspire kids to write with a blend of creativity and technique.

We looked at different quest books, we drew story maps in colour, we planned our stories with questions, we made up hilarious verbal quest stories about a marshmallow dragon who wanted to be a rainbow unicorn and a good wolf looking for a magic peacock feather, we used shadow puppets to tell a story and we wrote our own quest stories in writers’ notebooks.

I have so much hope for future adults when I observe the creativity, innovation and persistence of these children.

We had the perfect creative space at Side Door – lovely tables inside to write our stories and a light-filled courtyard for activities and breaks.

Next week, we are focusing on contemporary stories with everyday heroes. There are still spaces left on Tuesday and Thursday if you’d like to book your children into a workshop. No unicorn tears for next week but there will be plenty of courage and determination – within both the writers and their characters.

 

Where do ideas come from?

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I’m often asked where my ideas for stories come from. Writers are instinctive story-hunters – there are stories everywhere – it’s about being open to what’s around you and connecting small ideas.

For example, my friend L told me a fourth-hand story about a woman who was annoyed with her husband because while he dried the dishes, he never put them away. The dry dishes would sit on the kitchen bench for his wife to put back in the drawers and cupboards. Every. Single. Day.

So one morning her husband came to her and said, ‘I don’t understand. I started to put on a business shirt for work and there’s one sleeve that wasn’t ironed. I chose another shirt, but it was ironed except for one sleeve. And then I realised all my shirts were ironed except for one sleeve. What have you done?’

Her answer? ‘Three quarters of the job.’

He always put the dishes away after that.

Now can you imagine that scene in a contemporary women’s novel?

This story happened to me a few days ago. After a disturbed night’s sleep, I drove into an underground car park. Just as I was about to park, I had to reverse to allow another car to pass me in the narrow lane. He gave me a rude gesture – I’m still not sure why – I was the one who accommodated his need. I was thinking about how unnecessarily rude he was when I scraped the car in the car park next to mine.

There were no dents, but the paint was certainly scratched off. I felt equal parts shaky and annoyed at myself. I had almost finished writing the owner of the car a note when I noticed that a lady in her sixties was about to step into the scratched car.

‘I’m so sorry, I’ve accidentally scratched your car,’ I began to apologise.

‘I’m sure it’s not that bad, let me have a look, dear,’ she told me.

When she saw the scratches, she waved her hand airily. ‘Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’

‘But do you want my number? Just in case you change your mind?’

‘Oh my dear, forget about it,’ she said and got back in her car.

I almost fell over myself with gratitude and asked for her name.

‘Judith. Now have a good day.’

Judith, you are definitely hero material.

My final story for this week – my engagement ring broke – it has been an interesting week! My ring is 22 years old, but it broke in the same place only six months ago. The jewellers were very apologetic and will repair it. It does feel a little odd not to wear it but I’m not superstitious so I am not at all concerned that this is a bad sign for our marriage!

Now, imagine weaving all these stories together. Maybe the main character in a contemporary woman’s novel is having a problem with her marriage? Maybe she had the mini-bingle on the same day she realised her engagement ring was broken? Maybe that’s why she went home and ironed three quarters of each of her husband’s shirts? Maybe he was angry and asked her for a divorce? Maybe this all happened in the first three chapters of the book and the rest of the book is about her new life where dishes are put away correctly and the fourth finger of her left hand permanently bears an naked indent where her rings used to sit.

There are stories everywhere – writers are just good at connecting them!

Three interesting female characters – three interesting books

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What makes an interesting female character? How do writers create a character who is relatable, but also unique and memorable? How do writers create a book that readers will pass on to their friends and will feature in every bookclub across the country?

I’ve recently read three adult books about three different female protagonists by women writers in three different countries which have all amazed me with their insightful writing, beautiful language but mainly the strong voices of the characters. All books had themes of connection, loneliness and healing.

  • Eleanor Oliphant is completely fine by Gail Honeyman.

This debut novel is written in first person from the perspective of Eleanor Oliphant. And as you can infer from the justification word ‘completely’ in the title, she’s not so fine after all. She’s a twenty-nine year-old woman living alone in Glasgow, working as a finance clerk. Her weekdays and weekends run with monotonous certainty until she comes into contact with three men – a singer she falls in love with who doesn’t know of her existence, Sammy, an older man who has an accident in the street and Raymond, the new IT guy at work. In Eleanor’s words:

A philosophical question: if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? And if a woman who’s wholly alone occasionally talks to a pot plant, is she certifiable? I’m confident that it is perfectly normal to talk to oneself occasionally. It’s not as though I’m expecting a reply. I’m fully aware that Polly is a houseplant.

In an interview, Honeyman said that she ‘tried to ensure that Eleanor was never self-pitying, so that there was space for the reader to draw their own conclusions and, hopefully, to empathise with her.’ I think she succeeded!

  • The trauma cleaner by Sarah Krasnostein.

A non-fiction title, this book has a larger than life character with Sandra Pankhurst. She was born Peter, a baby boy adopted by a couple who had a daughter but no sons and couldn’t have any more children. They did go on to have two sons, and Peter suffered from his violent father. Peter left home, married and had two sons of his own. But in his thirties, he slowly transitions into Sandra. Sandra had many jobs, including drag queen, sex worker and business owner. It is her job as a trauma cleaner, someone who cleans up accidents, sorts out hoarding issues and deals with death scenes, that is perhaps her most interesting job. Krasnostein has written a moving and empathetic account of Sandra’s life. It took her about four years of following Sandra to her clients to uncover most of the details of Sandra’s life – there are many gaps as Sandra admits the drugs she took may have affected her memory. There is a graphic account of a rape scene which may be difficult to read. This extract comes from a visit to Marilyn, a hoarder –

‘You’ve got bugs on your bed,’ Sandra says matter-of-factly.

‘They don’t seem to do any harm,’ Marilyn answers, and turns to the pile of mail that Sandra has prepared for her to sort through. ‘I’ve got mail here I haven’t bothered to open.’

Having cleared more space on the bed, Sandra now finds another silk kaftan creased against the bedspread. She tries to smooth the deep wrinkles out with her palm, reunited it with its belt, arranges it on a hanger and swoops it back into the closet. 

Krasnostein writes that ‘the opposite of trauma is not the absence of trauma. The opposite of trauma is order, proportion; it is everything in its place.’

 

  • Radiant shimmering light by Sarah Selecky

A gentle satire, this novel set in Canada and the US lightly mocks the social media world where every turmeric latte is photographed in the best light and newsletters are sent out to reflect the glossy surface, rather than the banal or the debris of real life. Lillian Quick, forty-years-old, is a struggling artist who paints pet aura portraits. She connects with her long-lost cousin, Eleven, who is a gifted speaker and entrepreneur in women’s empowerment circles. All of a sudden, Lilian’s life changes – she’s earning money, she’s part of a team, she’s being supported to be her best self in her own empowerment journey. But is it real and will it last?

Selecky balances the gentle fun of the perfect-yourself, open-yourself-to-possibilities, you-are-beautiful-as-you-are culture with razor-sharp insightfulness and empathy. I found myself laughing and hoping and caring all in the same sentence. The newsletters, texts and social media posts scattered throughout the book both advance Lilian’s story and act as a wise social commentary.

I close my eyes and imagine warm light radiating out of me. I picture the woman this ticket belongs to. It helps to be specific: she is wearing a black coat, a wool scarf, and velvet gloves. I send out my light and connect to the morphogenetic field using my heart energy. I picture her walking to meet me halfway. She is thrilled. This is a wish come true for her.

In an interview with PRISM International, Selecky says: ‘We live online now. We stare into the face of a screen more than we look into other human faces. We do everything through our phone – everything. I wanted to create the visceral experience of what it means to live online. The constant connection/disconnection, and what that feels like in the human body. That’s what this story is about—connection.’

Selecky runs an online writing school – she acknowledges the irony of encouraging writers to disconnect to discover their writing voice through an online writing school! I have completed one of her courses – she taught me about the importance of having a relationship with writing, rather than looking at it as a tool or a business or something separate from yourself.

I loved Eleanor’s fall from her routined life into a messy heap on the floor, then her slow rebuilding into a better version of herself, but always, always, her strong, quirky self, untarnished by the culture around her. I admired Sandra’s strength and her meticulous attention to detail and her ability to talk to anyone. I loved Lilian’s innocent observations and her struggle to balance the digital world with the real world.  Three strong, memorable characters from three fascinating books – happy reading!

Taking stock – September

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August has been incredibly busy – why do all the schools put all the events in August?!! Time to take stock and work out where everything is at. This is a list from Pip Lincolne’s blog, Meet me at Mike’s.

Making: Writers’ Notebooks for my school holiday writing workshops
Cooking: crispy-skin salmon with zucchini chips for dinner tonight
Drinking: chai latte – my chai was photographed for Cocoa cafe’s social media feed yesterday!
Reading: Anne of Green Gables at night and Dialogue, the art of verbal action for page, stage and screen during the day
Wanting: warmer weather
Looking: at Miss 11’s gorgeous new haircut
Playing: Uno with Mr 9
Deciding: which roses to plant in our garden
Wishing: there were more hours in the day – I always wish that!
Enjoying: frothy pink ranunculi in a vase
Waiting: for my bare-branched crab apple and birch trees to burst into bloom
Liking: that there is more time on Sundays now that footy for both boys has finished
Wondering: which format to choose for my Writers’ Notebooks
Loving: the unread stack of birthday books in my study
Pondering: how to best meet everyone’s needs
Considering: how to sort out my overflowing inbox
Buying: food, food and more food – how do they eat so much?
Watching: three basketball semi-finals tomorrow
Hoping: for three basketball wins!
Marvelling: at the pastel drawings my kids created at the kitchen table – sunsets and waterfalls
Cringing: at how loud my kids can be
Needing: more sleep
Questioning: how to meet everyone’s needs, including my own
Smelling: the raspberry muffins Miss 11 baked
Wearing: ankle boots in a variety of colours
Following: the footy finals with only a little interest – my team is out!
Noticing: how Mr 14’s t-shirts look a little small for him now
Knowing: I’ll have to buy him some new ones!
Thinking: constantly about my writing workshops – which books to discuss, which activities to do, how much can we fit in – I’d be happy to run week-long sessions!
Admiring: my husband for his dedication to work and family
Sorting: the pantry – there’s a sesame oil spill
Getting: a little bit fitter with running
Bookmarking: interesting writing posts
Coveting: summer clothes
Disliking: the overflowing ironing basket
Opening: my laptop every morning with a sense of excitement for my manuscript
Giggling: at Mr 9 reciting nursery rhymes
Feeling: too many emotions to articulate in one sentence
Snacking: on corn chips
Helping: each of my kids navigate through their own challenges
Hearing: the kids singing in the shower

Maybe you’d like to copy and paste this list for yourself into a file, or write it in a journal or the back of an envelope. Or tell me one ‘ing’ in the comments!

September holidays writing workshops for kids

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Photo credit: Mandy Couzens

Do you have any imaginative and creative children or grandchildren who would like to spend a few hours in the holidays writing a story?

I’m running four writing workshops for kids in the September/October school holidays. I’ve presented these workshops in primary schools but this is the first time I’ve run them in the holidays.

The workshops are for children in grades 3-6. They’re invited to unlock their imaginations and craft a story, using writing techniques, art and games. Writing stories with both heart and technique is a life-skill in communicating with others and using language to express purpose and emotion.

Young writers can create a fantasy world where characters go on a quest to find something or save someone AND/OR create an ordinary character with extraordinary qualities that help to save the day in a modern setting.

They will learn how to:

– create characters
– plan their story
– write with passion
– use art and games to spark ideas

Writer’s Notebook

Each child will work in a special Writer’s Notebook, which contains prompts for further writing, reading suggestions, editing tips and much more. The Writer’s Notebook is a useful tool to take home for writing at school and home.

The writing workshops cater for children who are passionate readers and writers, as well as children who need a little more encouragement.

Dates

  • Tuesday 25th September – 9.30-12.30 – grades 3 & 4 – fantasy – quest theme
  • Thursday 27th September – 9.30-12.30 – grades 5 & 6 – fantasy – quest theme
  • Tuesday 2nd October – 9.30-12.30 – grades 3 & 4 – contemporary – heroes theme
  • Thursday 4th October – 9.30-12.30 – grades 5 & 6 – contemporary – heroes theme

Venue
All workshops will be held at Side Door – 72 Willsmere Rd, Kew. It’s a fabulous space, with an indoor section for writing and an outdoor section for breaks and games, and is next door to Flatiron, fashion and homewares store. For more information about Side Door, please see www.flatironmelbourne.com.au/side-door/ or email Emma Bangay at emma@flatironmelbourne.com.au  

Logistics

BYO – drink bottle and snack.

All writing materials will be supplied.

Cost for each workshop is $50. Payment must be made by Friday 21st September.

Karen Comer
Acc. no: 1119 3537
BSB: 063-791

Please email me at karen@karencomer.com.au to register your child and bring the signed form  – link here – to the workshop.

Please forward this post on to your friends and family. I’m really looking forward to working with your children to create some amazing stories!

‘Anne with an e’ – Netflix series

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When I was ten, Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery (published in 1908) introduced me to the depths of despair, the idea of kindred spirits and most importantly, that a good imagination could be your greatest strength.

Miss 11 and I have just finished watching season 2 of Anne with an e on Netflix. Season three will be out next year.

This show is NOT for Anne of Green Gable purists. The Netflix version includes threads about progressive education for girls, sexual preferences for adults and children, puberty and racial discrimination. Who knew Avonlea could contain so much? Some of the new themes just do not work but some of them have brought this classic story to a modern audience.

This article is scathing about the perils of re-doing a well-loved classic. I do agree with the idea that Anne’s imagination flourished against the quiet backdrop of her ordinary life – bringing so much into her daily life diminishes the need for ‘scope for the imagination’.

The characters of Anne, Marilla and Matthew are well-cast – Anne looks just like she is described by L. M. Montgomery. Marilla is her usual sharp-tongued, brusque yet kindly self and Matthew is his introverted, gentle self – albeit with a dead brother and tragic love affair in the Netflix version.

Most main characters follow a narrative arc – we see how they have changed over the course of the book, usually because they have risen to face conflict. In Anne of Green Gables, Anne stays true to herself and doesn’t change but she changes the characters around her – Marilla softens, Mrs Lynde becomes less judgemental, Matthew takes more risks, Diana becomes more creative – all because of their love of Anne. These changes, although slight, highlight Anne’s influence.

I have tried unsuccessfully to encourage Miss 11 to read Anne of Green Gables but my bookworm of a daughter could not get past the long-winded descriptive first chapter. So we broke our family rule of reading the book before seeing the movie.

Many years ago, my husband and I were watching television on a Saturday night and flicking the channels between the footy ad breaks. We saw that the 1985 version of Anne of Green Gables was on, and watched a little. He saw five minutes and exclaimed, ‘This explains everything. I should have watched this movie before I married you!’

Enough said.

 

Children’s book council of Australia week

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Today launches the Children’s Book Council of Australia week, from Friday 18 August to Thursday 23 August, to celebrate children’s books.

The awards for the Book of the Year will be announced today at noon. The categories include:

  • Older Readers – 13-18 years
  • Younger Readers – 8-12 years
  • Early Childhood – 0-7 years
  • Picture Book of the Year – 0-18 years – the story is primarily told through illustrations
  • Eva Pownall Award – 0-18 years – the main focus is a factual account
  • Crichton Award for New Illustrators – 0-18 years – to encourage new talent

My favourite book of all the shortlisted titles is How to Bee – you can read my review about this quirky and original story with a strong voice here.

The shortlist is a great reading list if you are looking to encourage your children to read quality literature.

Schools and kindergartens often hold a dress-up day for Book Week. Over the years, my kids have dressed up as:

  • Fancy Nancy – you can never add too many accessories!
  • Hagrid – Mr 9 did not have the necessary height or girth but he gave it a good shot with a cushion stuffed under his top and a black beard attached to his chin
  • witches – think Witch School, Meg and Mog etc
  • Alice in Wonderland – this was my costume one year when I was rostered on kinder duty for book week! I wore a blue dress, tucked a white tea-towel around my waist for an apron, and of course, wore a blue headband in my hair.

This post from Allison Tait might give you some more ideas for Book Week dress-ups, particularly if you have a cloak – useful for all kinds of characters, particularly if your kids are fond of the Ranger’s Apprentice series.

While this week is more for younger kids to celebrate books and have a fun day, let’s not forget the importance of encouraging kids of all ages to read. Mr 14 recently had his parent-teacher interviews and he was encouraged by at least half of his teachers to read – more often and more widely. Readers make leaders!