Ramblings of an Australian Writer

Six months into the year and I'm wondering where did the time go? It seems as if I blinked and we went from January, with its sweltering Australian summer to winter, with its rain, wind and cold. I wish I could say these last six months have been productive and the time has gone into writing, but I can't.

For the most part, this year hasn't been a good one. I'll spare you the gory details, but the year so far has revolved around health issues, both mine and my mother's (who I'm a carer for), and other relatives. At the current moment, I'm on (hopefully) the last leg of a nasty sinus infection that has laid me up for nearly three weeks; prior to that, mum was in the hospital; my grand-niece was ill, my niece had the worst ear infection I've ever heard of, my cat was sick, and the list goes on. Subsequently, there's been little in the way of work done. And I'm annoyed at my own human frailty--being tired, being sick, being tired and sick, being depressed--for not getting more done on works in progress that I can't stop thinking about. The mind is willing, sort of, but the body is weak.

It could be said that rather than write this blog post, I could be working on a wip, but the truth is that it takes a lot less concentration to write a blog post than to work on a wip. And I've been Lady Silence for some time and felt that it was probably a good idea to sort of pop my head up and say here I am, I'm surviving.

There were good things that have happened this year, the first being the Cut Snake Collective photography exhibition I was part of, which was a terrific experience and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. The second was a short holiday I took mum on before she went into hospital, a trip up to the Flinders Ranges (where my latest release Book, Line, and Sinker is set) and that was wonderful.



1. The ochre pits, where the Adnyamantha people gathered ochre for paint. 2. Yellow-footed Rock Wallaby in its natural habitat, in Brachina Gorge. 3. The Chase Range.

A small selection of the photos I took. To see more, go here.

Anyway, I have been reading a lot, a varied collection of books, actually, so here's a list of some of the ones I particularly enjoyed.

Career of Evil - Robert Galbraith
Close Encounters of the Furred Kind - Tom Cox (non fiction)
The Martian Chronicles - Ray Bradbury
New Watch - Sergey Lukyaneko
Throne of the Crescent Moon - Saladin Ahmed
The Book Thief - Markus Zusak
The King - J. R. Ward
Code Name Verity - Elizabeth Wein
Feral Machines - Ginn Hale
The Archer's Heart - Astrid Amara
Midnight in Peking - Paul French (non fiction)

Some are re-reads, because a book is a joy forever. And that, dear friends, is that. Hopefully the last half of this year will be infinitely less absorbed by health issues and I can write! Hope you're all happy and healthy. <3

A few days ago, author Andrea Speed retweeted a link to an article. I clicked the link and read the article, in which neither the author nor blogger were named, and so I was utterly confused as to what was going on. This is what happens when you're offline for reasons of Life. So, I hit Google and was rewarded with clarification. And then I sat, staring at the computer screen, in stunned horror, because what I read shocked me to the core.

Let me say first that I have gotten bad reviews for my books. I've gotten good ones, great ones, meh ones, okay ones, too. I've had all colours of the review rainbow. And each and every one of those reviews--yes, even the bad ones--are valid. Am I upset that some people don't like my book? Of course! We want to be liked and our work liked, but the fact of humanity is that we are all unique and not everyone likes the same things. And that is totally okay.

I've bolded these truths because they are exactly that: TRUE. How boring would the world be if we all liked the same things, had the same opinions, beliefs, ideas? Very, that's how boring. Diversity is awesome, and if a reader/reviewer doesn't like my book, that's okay.

This is not to say I read my reviews, because with a few exceptions, I don't. I fully admit to being something of a delicate petal and I don't really like being upset, so I control what I read by my own decisions. I don't hanker down in my writerly bunker (the living room), constantly refreshing GoodReads or Amazon or Google or something like that. I hanker down in my writerly bunker (still the living room) and write. Or look at garden photos. Or research. Or eBay.

So now, you might be wondering what this is all about. I don't usually weigh in on things like this, but this one really struck a nerve. In sum: Author finds Blogger's real-time reviews of book on GoodReads. Is peeved. Follows Blogger around the Internet. Digs into Blogger's life. Finds out Blogger's real life name and living address and then pays Blogger a visit. God, I wish I were making this up. I really do. But I'm not, it happened, and said Author then went on to write an article about it for THE GUARDIAN.

Now I'm going to use bold and capslock together for this next bit. It's important enough to warrant both.

STALKING IS NOT OKAY. IT IS NOT OKAY TO DIG UP SOMEONE'S PERSONAL DETAILS FOR WHATEVER REASON. NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO PERSONAL INFORMATION EXCEPT THOSE PEOPLE YOU CHOOSE TO GIVE IT TO. DOING SO BECAUSE OF BEING PISSED AT A ONE STAR REVIEW ON GOODREADS IS UNCONSCIONABLE.

To all the readers and reviewers who have taken the time to read my books and left reviews, good, bad and in between, thank you. Without you, we authors would be shouting into a reviewer-less void, and that idea makes me sad. To the Blogger who has been at the center of this, I am sorry this happened to you. I am horrified that it happens at all, for any reason, to anyone.

The internet is a great thing. But there is truth in the wisdom of the advice I was given when I started out as an author: Don't read your reviews and don't respond to them.

And I'll add to that, Don't stalk those reviewers when they don't like your book.

Oh--one last thing. Pseudonyms, nom-de-plumes, stage names, screen names, alternate identities--these are all valid because it's often not a matter of having something to hide, but a matter of keeping oneself safe from things like, harrassment, bullying, the potential of losing one's job, one's partner, and, y'know, stalking. So for it to be suggested that the Blogger here is at fault for using a screen name... well, perhaps before taking pot-shots at her because of that, one should look oneself in the mirror and realise that one's reflection is a bloody good reason why such things are used. And not just by bloggers, but by authors, actors, actresses, musicians, artists...

Or has the Facebook outrage (legitimate) regarding making drag queens and other performers use their real names instead of their stage names been forgotten? (A link to remind one and all.)

Links to explain in more detail (included in the meat of these links is the Guardian article):


http://bibliodaze.com/2014/10/an-open-letter-to-kathleen-hale-guardian-books-stalking-is-not-okay/
http://www.buzzfeed.com/jennaguillaume/this-is-what-happens-when-an-author-tracks-down-a-critic-irl
http://dearauthor.com/features/essays/on-the-importance-of-pseudonymous-activity/
http://bookthingo.com.au/shenanigans-in-social-media-an-author-brags-about-stalking-a-reader/
http://www.lindapoitevin.com/2014/10/21/how-to-respond-to-a-negative-review/
http://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/blog/the-choices-of-kathleen-hale
http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2014/10/21/five-ways-to-respond-to-a-negative-review-a-helpful-guide/
http://jezebel.com/author-stalks-anonymous-blogger-who-gave-her-a-1-star-r-1648545005
http://bookbinge.com/2014/10/catfish-doxx-stalk-need-know-kathleen-hale-staying-safe-haleno/
http://alex-hurst.com/2014/10/21/kathleen-hale-vs-blythe-harris/
http://dearauthor.com/features/letters-of-opinion/poisoning-the-well/
http://www.killyourdarlingsjournal.com/2014/10/nepotism-bullying-stalking-online-reviews/
http://www.jimchines.com/2014/10/victim-or-perpetrator/

Twitter hastag feed: https://twitter.com/hashtag/haleno?f=realtime

I've been thinking about this for a while but it came to a head today after a discussion with jerusalemorbust last night and a discussion between meredith_shayne and myself this morning. (Both of whom I hope will comment here. :D) The subject being multiculturalism and interracial relationships in novels and characters that are in some way disabled and characters that are over the age of 25. (Warning: this post does contain a bit of self-absorbed hyperbole alas.)

( Cut for length. )

People are people and love is love. Age, race, religion, disability, sex – none of this should matter. Unfortunately, because of societal conditioning, it does. And that's terrible.