‘n Geselsie met Petronel Louw, nuwe Romanza-skrywer Oktober 30, 2014

Petronel, jy het onlangs die opwindende nuus gekry dat Lapa jou eerste romanse aanvaar het. Vertel ons bietjie die storie: het jy ʼn oproep of ʼn e-pos gekry? Hoe het jy gevoel? Wat het jy gedoen om die geleentheid te vier?

As debuutskrywer was my kennis oor die tegniese versorging van ʼn manuskrip ʼn groot probleem. My manuskrip is twee maal teruggestuur met die opdrag om dit tegnies op standaard te kry. Die tweede keer het die keurder my die Woensdag laat weet dat as ek die manuskrip ten volle versorg voor komende Maandag 12uur by Lapa kan hê, sal dit vir publikasie oorweeg word. Ek is die Woensdag daarna per e-pos laat weet dat hulle tevrede is. Ons gesin het die geleentheid gaan vier met ʼn lekker uiteet.

Wat is die titel van jou boek? Wanneer verskyn dit en waaroor gaan die storie?

“Jy is myne alleen.” Dit verskyn DV Februarie 2015 op die rake.

Die storie is sommer ʼn lekker ligte romantiese komedie met so klein bietjie drama en baie misverstande.

Die handel oor ʼn maatskaplike werker, Anien, wat na ʼn liefdesteleurstelling ʼn pos as terapeut by ʼn innerlike genesingsoord in die berge van Noordoos Vrystaat aanvaar. Die vonke spat onmiddellik tussen haar en die boer, Theo, wie se plaas aan die genesingsoord grens. Hulle kan egter nie die aantrekkingskrag tussen hulle nie misken nie. As dit net nie was dat Della van die buurplaas haar visier op Theo gehad het nie. Sy doen alles in haar vermoë om Theo se aandag op haar te vestig. Theo sê Della is soos ʼn kleinsus vir hom, maar wanneer sy haar vingers klap, spring hy… selfs op Anien en Theo se wittebrood.

Jy het ʼn interessante werk. Wat doen jy en hoe het jy jou ervaring in jou storie ingeweef?

Ek is ʼn maatskaplike werker in privaat praktyk wat in trauma terapie spesialiseer. Ek verstaan die emosionele proses waardeur mense gaan wat innerlik verwond is, dus gebruik ek my kennis om die karakters so realisties moontlik uit te bou, sonder om dit neerdrukkend te maak. Die speelse element bly vir my belangrik.

Waarom romanse? Is hierdie genre een van jou gunstelinge?

Wat is dan nou lekkerder as om te ontvlug met ʼn lekker liefdesverhaal? Ekself floreer op die lees van romanse, want uit die aard van my werk geniet ek ligte leesvermaak meer. Die genre is definitief my gunsteling, want die intrige van liefdesverhoudings bly vars en interessant. Ek beoog om later op romans met ʼn dieper plot te fokus.

Watter boek/e is op die oomblik op jou bedkassie?

Ek is altyd besig met iets wat waarde toevoeg aan my beroep. Tans lees ek Stephen Madigan se “Narrative Therapy” en die “Afrikaanse Skryfgids”, dan lees ek daarmee saam iets ligs op my Kindle. Op die oomblik is dit: “The matchmaking pact” van Carolyne Aarsen en net voor dit was dit jou romanse, “Ridder in ʼn wit jas”. Ek probeer Afrikaanse en Engelse fiksie afwissel.

Ons het mekaar by die ATKV se Lenteskool vir aspirant liefdesverhaalskrywers ontmoet. Hoe het jy die slypskool ervaar en wat het jy daar geleer?

Vir my is dit onontbeerlik om die ATKV se skryfskole by te woon. Om te skryf is nie net om te sit en skryf nie. Dit is baie tegnies, met ʼn magdom vereistes. Ek het ontsettend baie by die aanbieders geleer. Hulle plaas die essensie van die riglyne vir skryf binne konteks. Ons het ook prakties gedoen, wat ek baie geniet het. ʼn Belangrike les wat ek daar geleer het, is dat kritiek op jou skryfwerk die norm is, dit is ʼn leergeleentheid. Slaan ag op en waardeer elke stukkie kritiek.

Waaraan skryf jy tans?

Ek skryf tans aan twee stories en nog een lê in my agterkop. Een is nog ʼn romantiese komedie met so bietjie misterie en die ander een is ʼn historiese roman.

Sommige skrywers begin met karakters, ander met ʼn storie (plot). Ek het selfs al iemand hoor sê hy begin met die ruimte waarin ʼn storie afspeel. Watter deel van ʼn storie ontkiem eerste in jou kop?

My hoofkarakter maak gewoonlik eerste haar buiging. Die begin ontkiem eerste. Ek is nie ʼn plotter nie. My storie begin net en skryf homself van daar af. Ek dink aan die ruimte en ʼn vraagstuk waarmee hierdie heldin sukkel en ontwikkel dit soos wat ek die storie skryf. Ek ‘sien’ my karakters en die storie soos ʼn fliek.

Hoeveel beplanning doen jy voordat jy begin skryf? En navorsing?

Ek maak seker dat ek my hoofkarakters ken. Dus ontwikkel ek karakterkaarte en hou dit byderhand, sodat my karakters se haarkleur en persoonlikhede nie skielik verander deur die loop van die skryf van die storie nie. Ek doen beslis navorsing. Die beste manier vir my is om met ʼn persoon ʼn onderhoud te gaan voer wat in die beroep staan van my heldin. My volgende romanse handel oor ʼn forensiese ouditeur. Dit is vir my heerlik om ʼn regte forensiese ouditeur met vrae te peper. Vir navorsing oor ruimte het ek byvoorbeeld vir drie dae op ʼn skaapplaas gaan bly en die boer uitgevra. Ek kry ook inligting op die internet en boeke. My een storie hang nou juis, omdat ek nie klaar is met die navorsing nie.

Watter raad het jy vir diegene wat graag romanse wil skryf?

As jy die begeerte het om romanses te skryf en te publiseer woon eers soveel slypskole moontlik by en lees, lees, lees. Lees ander skrywers se blogs en neem hulle raad ter harte. Kyk na die tegniese versorging van gepubliseerde romanses. Weet vir watter mark jy skryf en moet nooit jou leser onderskat en dinge aan karakters toedig wat onrealisties of swak nagevors is nie. Die belangrikste les wat ek moes leer, was hoe om my rekenaar tegnies in te stel, sodat die paragrawe se kantspasies korrek is, die insprong (indent) reg is en dat tydspronge met spasies aangedui word. Ek moes ook leer presies hoe om dialoog te skryf en leestekens korrek aan te wend. Sluit gerus by die Taalkommissie se Facebookblad aan. Hulle gee inligting oor vas en losskryf van woorde ensovoorts. Ekself geniet ook die blad: Taalgoggas en balbyters. Daar is gereeld interessante taalvrae wat deur kundiges hanteer word. Sorg dat jy die WAT, HAT en Pharos byderhand het en laai ʼn goeie Afrikaanse speltoetser af. Laastens, wees gedissiplineerd en beplan om elke dag te skryf. Doen BOC (bum on chair)  en SKRYF.

Petronel, dankie vir die gesels. Ek sien uit daarna om “Jy is myne alleen” te lees en hoop dit is die eerste pennevrug van vele.

 

Die Lekkerte van Kortverhale April 8, 2012

Ek het myself nog nooit beskou as iemand wat kortverhale kan skryf nie. Daarvoor is ek gewoon te langdradig. As ek ‘n boek van 55 000 woorde moet skryf, eindig ek op met 65 000. Dit neem my amper net so lank om my skryfsels agterna te streamline as om hulle in die eerste plek te skryf. Hoe op aarde sal ek dit regkry om ‘n storie in 1500 woorde te vertel? Nee wat, kortverhale is nie vir my nie.

Verlede jaar woon ek toe die ATKV se Lenteskool by. Een van die eerste lesings is deur Leon van Nierop, VROUEKEUR se verhaleredakteur. Hy praat oor hoe om ‘n goeie kortverhaal te skryf. Ons hang aan sy lippe. Daar en dan neem ek twee besluite:

1. Eendag gaan ek nog ‘n bangmaak-riller skryf en
2. Ek gaan sommer binnekort nog ‘n kortverhaal probeer.

Tydens middagete sterk een van die kursusgangers, wat self al ‘n hele spul kortverhale gepubliseer het, my in my kwaad. “Dis soveel lekkerder as ‘n boek,” vertel sy entoesiasties. “Met ‘n boek wroeg jy vir maande. Met ‘n kortverhaal wroeg jy vir ‘n naweek.”

Wow, dink ek, dit klink amper te goed om waar te wees. Ek gaan dit wraggies probeer.

My eerste kortverhaal, Die Vark in die Verhaal, verskyn in die VROUEKEUR van 20 April. Volgens Leon het ek mooi geluister na sy lesing. (Ek het notas gemaak!). Hier is ‘n paar tips wat ek by Leon geleer het:

1. Begin in media res. Met ander woorde, begin in die middel van die aksie. Dit geld nie net vir kortverhale nie, maar vir romanses ook. Ek het onlangs gelees wat die editors van Harlequin Romantic Suspense beskou as die mees algemene fout wat nuwe skrywers maak. Hulle begin glo die boek met die heldin in haar kar, oppad na die plek waar die aksie gaan begin. Dis vervelig, begin liewers in die middel van die aksie. Jy kan enige back story later inwerk.
2. Dink aan ‘n kortverhaal as ‘n slice of life. Een van die kursusgangers het my later vertel dat mens glo moet probeer om die gebeure van ‘n kortverhaal tot ‘n tydperk van 24 uur te beperk. ‘n Kortverhaal is dus nie ‘n hele storie wat jy bloot in breë trekke en gestroopte taal vertel nie, dis eerder ‘n insident. ‘n Storie binne ‘n storie, as jy wil.
3. Kry ‘n wow eerste sin. As jy jou eerste sin het, het jy dikwels jou hele storie. Leon het die volgende voorbeelde gegee: “Toe sy wakker word, is daar bloed op haar hande.” Of: ‘Ek dink nie daar was al ooit só ‘n reaksie op ‘n advertensie nie.” As jy inspirasie soek, kan jy gerus gaan kyk op http://www.postsecret.com. Dis ‘n wonderlike plek om eerste sinne te kry.
4. Meeste goeie verhale begin met die vraag: what if?
5. In ‘n kortverhaal het jy min ruimte vir karakterisering. Jy moet dus die kuns bemeester om ‘n karakter met een of twee sinne te teken. Leon se voorbeeld: “Toe hy sy rugbybal neersit en na sy lessenaar kyk, weet hy dat hy die gedig vir haar nou moet klaarmaak.”
6. In ‘n kortverhaal is dit amper nog belangriker om die goue reël van skryf na te volg: show, don’t tell.
7. ‘n Kortverhaal moet beweeg. Sorg dat jou karakters anders is aan die einde van die verhaal as aan die begin.
8. Die geheim van ‘n goeie storie is konflik.
9. Hou jou oë en ore oop. Oral waar jy gaan, is daar stories. Luister na mense – dis hoe jy goeie dialoog optel.
10. Hou jou beskrywings gestroop. Minder is meer.

Hoekom Ek Romanse Skryf Maart 29, 2012

Die ander dag vind ‘n kollega uit my ‘ander’ lewe uit dat ek romanses skryf. “Mag ek jou maar spot?” vra sy laggend.

Mag jy my maar spot? Wat, presies, wonder ek, is daar om mee te spot? Bedoel jy dat jy met my wil spot omdat ek romanses skryf – ontspanningsliteratuur – en nie ernstige letterkunde nie? In daardie geval, mag ek jou maar spot omdat jy ‘n verpleegster in plaas van ‘n dokter geword het? Die een beroep gaan immers nie met soveel status as die ander gepaard nie. Mag ek jou maar spot omdat jy ‘n werk gekies het wat pyn verlig en lyding voorkom en troos verskaf wanneer die lewe op sy donkerste is? Want weet jy wat? Dis wat ek ook doen met die romanses waarvoor jy dink jy kan lag.

Of spot jy my dalk omdat jy dink ek is ‘n romantiese siel? Is daar iets mee verkeerd? As daar is, my liewe vriendin, hoekom luister jy na musiek? Gaan die meeste van die liedjies nie maar oor die liefde nie? Hoekom gaan fliek jy? Raak jy nie moeg vir al die stories wat handel oor die liefde nie? Bowenal, hoekom is jy getroud? Hoekom wil jy graag kinders hê? Dit wys tog dat jy nie verhewe is bo daardie uiters menslike behoefte nie: die behoefte aan iemand aan wie jy kan behoort, aan iemand om jou lewe mee te deel, aan iemand wat aan jou verganklike lewe betekenis kan gee.

Ek lees gewis nie net romanses nie. Maar kyk ek terug na die swaarste tye in my lewe, tye van depressie, miskrame, die dood van geliefdes, besef ek dis die tye waarin ek romanses verslind het. Danielle Steele, Jane Austen, Barbara Taylor Bradford, Nora Roberts, Eleanor Baker, Tryna du Toit. Weerkaatsings en Daddy Longlegs en Zoya en Sense and Sensibility. Troosboeke, soos tjoklits en melkkos en koekies trooskos is. Boeke wat my geselskap gehou het wanneer die lewe net te veel geword het. Hierdie stories en karakters het my help ontvlug uit ‘n ondraaglike realiteit en my terselfdertyd die krag gegee om een voet voor die ander te sit in die vaste vertroue dat this, too, shall pass. Want die lewe is eintlik maar baie soos ‘n boek: as jy een sin na die ander lees, een bladsy na die ander omblaai, begin die deurmekaar drade van ‘n eens onverstaanbare narratief later betekenis aanneem. Kom jy agter dat random gebeure betekenis kry teen die agtergrond van jou lewe, dat selfs die harde, skewe lyne eindelik deel vorm van die beeld op die skilderdoek. Eindelik onlosmaaklik deel word van wie jy is, lig sowel as skaduwee.

Ek skaam my nie vir my liefdesverhale nie. Ek’s eintlik baie trots op hulle. Enigiemand wat dink dat romanses iets is om mee te spot, kan gerus maar self ene probeer skryf. Komaan, ek dare julle! Dalk vind julle uit, nes die res van ons romanseskrywers, hoe terapeuties dit is om met ‘n blank dokument en ‘n blinking cursor te begin en eindelik ‘n storie te hê van twee halwe, stukkende mense wat saam heel word – in hulself sowel as in hul verhouding.

Die ander dag sit ek en skryf toe my elfjarige dogtertjie, Tamika, by die kamer ingestorm kom. “Mamma!” roep sy uit, met soveel rou tragedie in haar stem dat ek al begin dink waar ons die hond gaan begrawe. “Stephen het vir Cassandra gelos!” Sy bars in trane uit en snik asof haar hartjie wil breek.

Huh, dink ek. Stephen? Cassandra? Ons het nie sulke honde nie. Praat die kind dalk van ‘n fliek?

Sy gooi ‘n boek voor my op die bed neer. I Capture the Castle deur Dodie Smith. Een van my gunstelinge, die soort boek wat

Tamika

ek nie kon wag om vir my dogters te gee nie.

“Jy’t gesê dis ‘n romance,” huil sy. “Ek het gedink dit het ‘n happy ending!”

Aan die einde van hierdie maand herdenk my Tamika haar vierde jaar met Tipe 1 diabetes. Sy was net sewe toe sy ‘n maagvirus gekry het – dieselfde virus wat my ander vier kinders sonder enige nagevolge gehad het. In haar geval het die virus ‘n outo-immuun respons gesneller wat haar pankreas vernietig het. ‘n Kombinasie van ‘n genetiese geneigdheid en rotten luck. Tamika moet voor elke ete haar vinger prik om haar bloedglukose te toets en haarself met insulien inspuit. Elke keer as sy ‘n seer keel of ‘n loopneus het, of as sy stres oor haar balleteksamen,  is haar suiker buite beheer. Soms, veral na strawwe oefening, daal dit so laag dat sy naar en flou en beangs voel. Dat sy letterlik nie logies kan dink nie, want haar brein het nie genoeg glukose daarvoor nie. Ons hou haar lewe so normaal as moontlik, maar dit bly ‘n ontsettende verantwoordelikheid vir ‘n lieflike klein lyfie. Dit bly ‘n flippen raw deal, veral vir ‘n romantiese sieletjie wat my nou die dag gevra het of die miere hul dooie maters wegdra om te gaan begrafnis hou (um, nee, my kind, ek dink die gevalle soldate word aandete!).

As jy my vra, het Tamika genoeg skaduwees van haar eie in haar lewe. ‘n Happy ending is waaragtig nie te veel gevra nie. So nou is ons versigtig vir stories wat nie deliver nie. Daar is niks wat my so gelukkig maak as om vir Tamika my romanses te gee en die sterre in haar ogies te sien nie. “Dis so romantic, Marmee” (Tamika noem my Marmee, soos die ma in Little Women),  of “Jou held is dreamy” is die grootste kompliment wat ek ooit vir my skryfwerk kan ontvang. Nie eens ‘n Nobel-prys vir romanse – as daar ooit so iets sou wees! – kan naby die tevrede suggie kom waarmee sy een van my boeke neersit nie. Stephen King sê in On Writing hy skryf vir sy vrou, Tabitha. Ek skryf vir Tamika, my inspirasie. En vir al die ander vroue in Suid-Afrika wat ‘n happily-ever-after nodig het.

En daarom, my liewe kollega, is ek nie skaam om romanse te skryf nie. Nie eens ‘n bietjie nie. Spot maar as jy wil, maar om geluk met mens se stories te saai, is voorwaar nie ‘n meaningless ding om met jou lewe te doen nie. As jy my vra, is dit moerse edel. Sela.

Suksesvolle Romanse-Skrywer Deel haar ‘Geheime’

Ek het gister afgekom op hierdie heerlike post deur Maggie Kingsley, een van Harlequin Medical se outeurs. Dis propvol woorde van wysheid vir beginners sowel as gesoute skrywers. Wie van ons het nie al van hierdie foute gemaak nie? Boonop lees dit so lekker, so in dialoogvorm. Om die hele post te lees, gaan na http://loveisthebestmedicine.wordpress.com/2012/03/12/maggie-let-me-in-on-the-secret-how-do-i-become-a-published-medical-romance-writer/

Maggie, let me in on the secret. How do I become a published medical romance writer?

Well, I could say, ‘Write the best book you can’, and that would be true. I could say, ‘Read as many modern medical romances as you can, and that will give you an idea of what the line is currently looking for,’ and that would be true, too. Joining a writers’ group is good provided you don’t join one where everyone trashes everyone else’s work, and you crawl home feeling completely disheartened, or – indeed – everyone says everything is perfect which isn’t helpful when you suspect in your heart it’s not.

Write. Write every day even if it’s only a little. Read – read a lot – but don’t assume that what you enjoy reading is what you’re going to be good at writing. My favourite ‘comfort’ books are those by Terry Pratchett, Terry Brooks – the Landover series – and Georgette Heyer. Could I write books like that? Never in a million years. So, how can I help you?

Well – notice I’ve used yet another ‘well’ – bad Maggie but I’m just talking to you so that’s OK – I would love to be able to give you a set of hard-and-fast ‘rules’, a list of cast-iron certainties which – if you follow – will guarantee you success, but I can’t. Sadly, no-one can, but what I can do is give you some tips, a list of things I’ve done wrong in my time so you won’t make the same mistakes. Will avoiding my disasters ensure you become published? I can’t promise you that, but I can promise, if you follow my tips, at least you won’t make the same cringe-worthy errors I did, so follow me, folks, as we go back in time to a younger, considerably more naive, and very much a beginner, unpublished Maggie Kingsley, talking to an editor.

Me:. ‘I know the beginning of my story seems slow, but you see I needed to establish the setting, and to get in my hero and heroine’s back story, but – trust me – it really gets going after page 30.’

Editor: ‘Maggie, if it really gets going after page 30 then that’s where your story should start. Neither I, nor a reader, want to wade through pages and pages of back story, and setting. You can establish a rough setting in around three sentences, and then you can embroider that throughout the rest of your book. As for back story…..I don’t want to be bombarded with a lot of back story about people I don’t yet know so drip feed it to me over the course of your book. Hook me in instantly with a great opening line/ paragraph, make me want to read more, and don’t have me thinking, is this story actually ever going to get started.’

Me: ‘You said you wanted conflict. .I ‘ve given you loads of conflict, and now you’re saying you don’t like it.’

Editor: ‘Because you haven’t given me conflict, Maggie. You’ve given me two people who do nothing but bicker, and argue, and shout at one another. Conflict arises when two people have different goals, different dreams. Conflict occurs when your central characters are unable to let go of the past because of something traumatic that happened to them, or they are stuck in a rut because they are afraid of an unknown future. Conflict is a hero never wanting children, and a heroine who longs for a family. Conflict is when a working class hero thinks he will never fit in with your heroine’s posh family. Conflict can arise from many things, but a couple arguing all the time doesn’t create conflict, only two very annoying people you’d cross the street to avoid.

Me: ‘Why don’t you like my hero and heroine? They’re lovely people – the kind of people I’d want as my best friends.’

Editor : ‘I’d want them to be my best friends, too, but two nice people who meet, fall in love, and get married…..? Sorry, Maggie, there’s no tension there, no drama. Throw stones at this couple, put believable obstacles in their path, give them flaws, weaknesses, hang ups. Nobody is perfect, and if they truly are perfect then I’m sorry but I suspect their story will be rather boring.

Me : You said you liked my ‘voice’, but now you’re saying my story isn’t ‘fresh’ enough. How can I come up with a new, fresh, plot when it’s all been done before?

Editor: ‘Of course there’s nothing new under the sun, but it’s your job to put a new spin on it, make it seem new. Think of Beauty and the Beast. It’s Twilight, it’s a scarred war veteran who is sure no-one will ever love him, it’s a woman who has had a mastectomy, and never wants a man to see her body. Take any well worn theme and, if you think out of the box, that’s how you’ll get originality.’

Me: ‘You say my language is too ‘flowery’. It’s not ‘flowery’. I’m simply being literary, erudite.’

Editor: ‘Maggie, you’re being pretentious. A ‘he said/she replied’ or ‘she declared/he exclaimed’ will slip past your readers unnoticed. Saying things like ‘he reposted’, ‘she ejaculated’ – I’m sorry but that’s just pretentious. And not just pretentious. I shouldn’t be sniggering when I’m reading what you’ve written, but I was.’

Me: ‘My hero, and heroine, meet, have problems, resolve these problems, and finally get their happy ever after. How can you say it’s not emotional enough?’

Editor: ‘Well, maybe the fact that your h and h fought all the way through your book, only to declare their undying love for one another in the last three pages might have something to do with it. Maggie, I’ve got to see the gradual change in how your h and h feel about one another. I want you to give me highs, and lows. I want black moments, I want moments of tenderness. I want to smile, to reach for my handkerchief, I want to care about your h and h. Make me care, Maggie. Make me think that even though this couple clearly belong together there is still a chance they might not actually get their HEA. Wring every last bit of emotion out of their story so when I read the words ‘The End’, I’ll smile with delight.’

Me: ‘I’ve put in loads of medical detail, and you’re saying it’s too much. How can it be too much when the line is called Medical romance?’

Editor: ‘It’s too much because you’re forgetting this is first and foremost, a romance. If your readers want to learn about various operations/procedures they will buy a medical text book. That is not to say the medical detail should simply consist of a cut finger, or a split lip, but you’re getting bogged down in medical detail. If you’re unsure about whether you have too much ask a friend, or a relative, to read your medical ‘passages’ then ask them how much they skipped. If they skipped over a lot you’ve got too much. If they say, ‘What medical detail?’ you’ve got too little.’

Have I made any other mistakes on my writing journey? Oh, my heavens, yes. I use the word ‘that’ far too often. I always have to go through my finished manuscript removing loads of them, as well as all the unnecessary adverbs and adjectives. Sending my first mss to a publishing house in single line spacing not realising it should be double ensured it rocketed back, rejected, faster than the speed of light. Peppering my dialogue with exclamation marks which – as the editor said – made it look as though my characters said everything at a hundred decibels was another stupid error. I still make mistakes. There’s that red nightdress for one. It’s actually in one of my published books, and I didn’t notice what was wrong until a reader pointed it out to me. I still wince over that red nightdress. Maye I’ll tell you why I wince one day, and maybe I won’t, but for now, have a good day, and I hope to see you again soon.

Maggie Kingsley

So Val die Helde: Hoe om jou Alpha-man te Laat Grovel Maart 14, 2012

Die good old grovel is my gunsteling toneel in enige romantiese komedie wat sy sout werd is. Ek vrek oor die oomblik wanneer die held besef dat slim sy baas gevang het – dat hy ‘n opperste poephol was wat die één vrou weggedryf het waarsonder hy nie kan leef nie. En dat hy nou beter please explain – op sy knieë, asseblief, verkieslik met ‘n verloofring in sy sak – in die hoop dat sy hom dalk terug mag vat, lae luis wat hy is!

Soveel flieks, soveel grovels. Onthou jy nog hoe ons hartjies gebons het toe Richard Gere, hoogtevrees ten spyt, vir Pretty Woman daar uit haar ‘kasteel’ se toring gaan haal het? Veral nadat sy hom vroeër so weergaloos in sy peetjie gestuur het: When I was a little girl, my mama used to lock me in the attic when I was bad, which was pretty often. And I would … pretend I was a princess… trapped in a tower by a wicked queen. And then suddenly this knight… on a white horse with these colours flying would come charging up and draw his sword. And I would wave. And he would climb up the tower and rescue me. But never in all the time… that I had this dream did the knight say to me, “Come on, baby, I’ll put you up in a great condo.”

My persoonlike grovel-gunsteling is Hugh Grant. Hy’s waarlik in ‘n klas van sy eie wanneer dit kom by skuldig lyk. Daai deurmekaar hare. Daai dierbare leepoë – erger as ‘n Basset met ‘n hangover s’n. Ek het nou die dag weer Music and Lyrics gekyk waarin hy sy onvergeetlike grovel sing:

And though I know I’ve already blown more chances

Than anyone should ever get                      

All I’m asking is you don’t write me off just yet

Don’t write me off just yet.

Natuurlik is dit soms die heldinne wat groot askies moet vra. En as hulle dit doen, doen hulle dit in styl! Dink maar aan die dierbare, lawwe Bridget wat in die sneeu uithardloop agter Mark Darcy aan. In haar jas en luiperdvel onderklere! Of Julia wat haar hardloopskoene vir Richard present gee in Runaway Bride? Of in Notting Hill vir Hugh sê: “I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy asking him to love her.”

Hoe skryf ‘n mens ‘n goeie grovel? Hier is Harlequin outeur Lucy King se raad (lees die hele post op http://www.iheartpresents.com/2010/09/i%E2%80%99m-an-idiot-i-love-you-by-lucy-king/)

“I’m an Idiot, I Love You” by Lucy King

There’s a man on his knees on a doorstep. He’s shouting through a letterbox, pleading with the woman inside, desperate to undo the damage he’s done. Later, there’s a woman, bedraggled and shivering in an oilskin, fighting to win back the man she stupidly rejected…

Ah, who doesn’t love a good grovel in a Presents? The moment when the hero – and it usually is the hero who’s screwed up, isn’t it? – realises he’s been a fool, tracks the heroine down and begs for forgiveness. An alpha male brought to his knees by love? It gets me every time. And the more they suffer, the better!

As it’s probably my favourite part of a Presents, both to write and to read, here’s my 10-step guide to a good hero grovel:

1. Screw up really really badly. Because let’s face it, the worse the screw up, the better the grovel. Suspect the heroine is becoming a Serious Threat to your peace of mind. Possibly jump to the wrong conclusion and accuse her of something she didn’t do/say. Let your own emotional baggage blind you. Whatever the reason, back off faster than you can say ‘Fall in love? Over my dead body’.

2. Leave. Or make the heroine leave. Either way, count your lucky stars that you’ve managed to extricate yourself from a fate worse than death.

3. But hang on a moment. If you’ve been so clever, how come you feel so out of sorts?

4. Reluctantly force yourself to re-assess the values you’ve held all your life, analyse some of the irritatingly valid points the heroine may have made during your last encounter and examine your feelings (shudder).

5. In a burst of clarity realise that you’ve behaved like a complete idiot and make yourself acknowledge that your life is actually pretty pointless without the heroine in it.

6. Waste no time in rectifying the situation. You’re an alpha male, aren’t you? Go and find her. Make a Grand Emotional Gesture. Explain your behaviour. At a push, confess that she might have been right after all. About some things. Possibly. Phew. Sorted.

7. Wait a second. Something isn’t right. Why isn’t she falling into your arms in gratitude? What do you mean that’s not enough?

8. Uhoh. This may call for drastic measures. Gather your strength. Release all those emotions you didn’t even know you had. Take a deep breath and tell her that you love her and can’t live without her.

9. Wait on tenterhooks for the heroine’s reaction. Why is she hesitating? Oh, this isn’t fair. Haven’t you suffered enough already? Send a prayer of gratitude to your author when the heroine finally puts you out of your misery and confesses that she loves you too.

10. Now she falls into your arms. Thank goodness for that. Live happily ever after.

 

 

Mediese Romanse: Een Outeur se Inspirerende Storie Maart 6, 2012

Ek is mal oor ‘n suksesverhaal. Hoe meer struikelblokke daar in die outeur se pad na publikasie was, hoe meer inspirerend vind ek dit. Seker maar omdat dit my laat voel daar is nog hoop vir my. Dis vir my heerlik om te lees dat Jodi Picoult, een van my gunstelingskrywers (hm, ek’s juis nou besig met haar nuutste topverkoper, Lone Wolf) meer as ‘n honderd rejection letters in haar posbus gekry het. Die feit dat sy aanhou skryf het laat my soggens opstaan en voor my rekenaar gaan sit, al voel dit tagtig persent van die tyd asof my eerste drafts so vrot is dat ek nooit weer enigiets anders as tjeks en kruidenierslysies wil skryf nie. Die feit dat sy uiteindelik soveel sukses behaal het, inspireer my om my werk aan te hou voorlê. Om aan te hou droom. Hoe lui die Lotto-advertensie? One day is one day …

Connie Cox se storie is so ‘n suksesverhaal. Ek is ‘n instant gratification persoon (dis hoekom ek soveel van my Kindle hou – ek druk net ‘n knoppie en kan die boek binne sekondes begin lees). Die idee om vir meer as ‘n dekade aan te hou skryf sonder om aanvaar te word, aan te hou om my werk voor te lê, is vir my byna ondenkbaar. Connie se geduld – haar aanhouer-wen houding – het my asem weggeslaan. Ek hoop dit inspireer jou ook om sommer nou voor jou rekenaar te gaan sit. Skryf is ‘n kumulatiewe proses. Elke vyftien minute wat jy vandag insit, gaan eendag vir jou dividende betaal. Moenie ophou nie, one day is one day! Gaan lees gerus Connie en ander Harlequin outeurs se stories by http://community.harlequin.com/forums/simply-series/medical-author-spotlight-connie-cox

Connie Cox

I did it. After years and years of trying, I became a Harlequin author. I could say it all began with the Medical Fastrack in the Fall of 2010, but that would be glossing over a decade of writing and sending it in, only to be not quite there.

You see, Harlequin is very particular—which is a wonderful thing if you’re a reader, but a very challenging thing if you’re an author.
So, after years of writing stories, sending them in, and sometimes, getting very close, everything finally clicked for me.
Suzanne Clarke (a very discerning editor, in my opinion), read my entry in their Medical Fastrack and saw something she liked-my sparky dialogue. But the story line didn’t do it for her, so she said, if I could turn in something else that was more hero/heroine-oriented before the Fastrack event was over, she would give it a special look.
So, I turned in two story ideas. They weren’t spit-polished, but they had lots of sparky dialogue. I had finally learned to listen to an editor’s suggestions and capitalized on what she saw as my strength—and it worked. She liked them both well enough to encourage me to finish the first three chapters on the one about the diagnosticians and she would give it another look.
So I did, pronto! And Suzanne rewarded me with more feedback. So back to rewriting I went.
I think of medical romances as tribute to the health care professionals who must show strength day in and out in the face of continuous emotional trauma. I want to portray this profession with all the honor and integrity they deserve.
The Baby Who Saved Dr Cynical is a love story about diagnosticians, doctors of last resort who must struggle against all odds to triumph over illness and death. What better way to celebrate life than through a loving bond between two strong people? That is the emotional story I wanted to show.
I will be forever grateful to editor Suzanne Clarke for showing me how to dig deeper into a character’s psyche to show the passion behind the actions that drive them. It has made all the difference in my storytelling.
After giving those three chapters at least three intense makeovers, with Suzanne providing insightful editing at each stage, I was finally ready to go on to finish the whole book-which took me many, many months of intense, writing and re-writing. Suzanne wanted to bring out the best in me and that often took a bit of coaxing. So I would write and she would read and make suggestions and I would try again.
And finally, ten months later, when every single word on the page said what it was supposed to say, she declared the book good enough to be a Harlequin.
Wow! All the work was worth it. The hours spent alone writing, the months of rewriting, trying to show the depth of emotion and strength of character so the reader would know Drs. Jason Drake and Stephanie Montclair as I knew them, was all worth it in the end.
It’s all about perseverance. And perhaps that’s the theme of this post. Perseverance. Harlequin wants the best for their readers and their authors and won’t settle for anything less. Yes, I am very proud to be a Harlequin author.

 

 

Why I Write Februarie 26, 2012

Writing can be bliss, but it can also be gruelling, mind-numbingly boring, terrifying and exhausting. Most writers seem to have a love-hate relationship with their art. Douglas Adams said: “Writing is easy. You only need to stare at a blank piece of paper until your forehead bleeds”. Peter de Vries said: “I love being a writer. What I can’t stand is the paperwork.” I remember the relief I felt when I read the following quote by Joseph Heller the first time: “Every writer I know has trouble writing”. And this one by Michael Kanin: “I don’t like to write but I love to have written”.

Why, I often ask myself, do I keep writing if I find it so difficult? Why can’t I spend my time on something more lucrative and less exasperating? Is it because of those rare moments of flow when there is such chemistry between me and the keyboard that endorphins are pumping through my veins? Or is it like the silly joke my dad used to tell? The one in which a little boy repeatedly bashes his head against the wall. When his dad asks him why he does it, he says: “Because it feels SO wonderful when I stop.” Do I write because it’s such a relief when I stop? Such a relief to have written?

When I freewrote to the prompt “I write because …” this is what I came up with:

I write because I get cranky and miserable and irritable if I don’t. I write because it feels amazing to have written, complete and lighter and less burdened. I write because I love the smell of a new book with my name on it. Because there’s nothing like ripping open the cardboard of a package containing a new book I’ve written. Nothing like opening the box and taking that first peek at a stack of books I’ve imagined and dreamed up and typed out laboriously, letter by letter, word by word. All books smell good, but the hot-off-the-press smell of your very own book beats all other smells: the smell of freshly mowed grass on a hot summer’s day. The smell of coffee and friendship and intimacy wafting from you favourite coffee shop. The smell of a newborn baby fresh from heaven, all sweet and warm. The smell of a crispy, hot loaf of bread fresh from the oven. The smell of your own book – even if it’s under a pseudonym and not under your ‘real name’ – beats all of those.

I write because my kids are insanely proud of their ordinary mother every time they see her books on the shelves of their favourite bookshop. I write because I love seeing my sentimental hubby with tears in his eyes when he reads my love stories. I write because I love the way a bunch of white pages with black markings on them fattens when I print out the day’s words. I write because it’s one of the only things you can do under the duvet (with you pyjamas still on). I write because I’m a dreamer who loves looking out the window at the bare winter branches. I write because I love words. I write because writing gives me a sense of … not quite immortality, but at least slowed mortality. I write because it makes me feel that I matter. I write because I have experiences I need to process and I feel so much better having written them down. I write because I can’t paint, or sing, or play the piano. Writing is how I express myself.

Why do YOU write?

Heerlike pasella vir romanse-skrywers Februarie 17, 2012

Ek het vanoggend afgekom op hierdie oulike Kindle-boek – heeltemal gratis! Dis geskryf deur Mills & Boon se editors vir voornemende skrywers. Hoewel dit spesiaal geskryf is vir hul reekse, is die beginsels steeds handig vir Afrikaanse romanse-skrywers. Ek het dit vreeslik geniet, hoop jy laai vir jou ook een af! Kry joune hier: http://www.amazon.com/Secrets-Uncovered-editors-authors-ebook/dp/B005OEATSA/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1329489841&sr=1-1

As jou kind wil skryf

Maja met haar neus in 'n boek

My dogter, Maja, wil nie net skryf nie, sy SKRYF. Sy’s 13 jaar oud en meeste dae is haar wordcount genoeg om my te intimideer. Sy’t al die goeie boeke gelees oor hoe om te skryf en sy’s vasbeslote om ‘n boek te publiseer voor sy matriek skryf. Tans probeer sy my oorreed om saam met haar iets te skryf. Soms dink ek dis ‘n voordeel dat sy ‘n ma het wat skryf, ander kere nie. Sy’s selde bereid om vir my haar werk te gee om te lees, maar wanneer sy doen word ek telkens uitgeboul deur haar vars, oorspronklike stem. Ek is dankbaar dat sy tuisskool, want dit gee haar die tyd om te skryf en skryf, en natuurlik om te lees tot haar ogies uithang. Hier is ‘n wonderlike post waarop ek afgekom het. Dis nie net waardevol vir jong skrywers nie, dink ek, maar vir enige skrywer. Dis nie eens net waardevol vir skrywers nie, dis goeie raad oor hoe om die human journey aan te pak. Lees die volledige post hier:

http://mollybackes.blogspot.com/2011/07/how-to-be-writer.html

How to Be a Writer

A few weeks ago, a woman asked me for advice about her teenage daughter. “She wants to be a writer,” the mother said. “What should we be doing?”

To be honest, I was kind of stumped. (In part, I think it was the way she asked it – “What should WE be doing?” I didn’t really know what to do with that “we.”) (Also, it was quite early in the day, and I hadn’t yet had sufficient coffee to be giving anyone advice.) I suggested a few upcoming creative writing classes, but the mother wasn’t satisfied. There must be more – what else could they do?

“Well,” I said, “you know. Writers read a lot… and write a lot.”

She looked at me blankly.

“You really do have to write a lot,” I said. “I mean, that’s mostly it. You write a lot.”

The mother shook her head. “What else? Are there books she can read? Events she can attend? Writing camps?”

“Um,” I said. “Sometimes writers have writing buddies… they meet at coffee houses and write together?”

The mother liked this suggestion. “You could do that!” she told her daughter. The girl blushed.

I offered some titles of books to read. Writing Down the Bones, Wild Mind, Bird by Bird. If You Want to Be a Writer. Letters to a Young Poet. The Metamorphoses. (I know Ovid doesn’t have a lot of advice for writers; I just like to push the Metamorphoses on people. It’s a soap opera in verse!)

The mother scribbled them down. I had a feeling she’d buy them all for her daughter, perhaps before the day was over, but she still seemed to be waiting for something. I felt like I wasn’t giving her what she wanted, and though she was being really polite about it, I actually felt bad that I couldn’t come up with an answer that would satisfy her.

The feeling stuck with me all day – I chewed over her question and wondered if there was something I’d forgotten, some crucial piece of advice I could have given to placate her. But the more I thought about it, the more confused I became about why my initial answer wasn’t enough. Fact: writers write. Fact: In order to be a writer you have to write a lot. A LOT. Fact: there’s no shortcut.

(I do want to say that I think it’s really great that this mother — or any mother — is looking for ways to actively support her kid’s writing. I also imagine it might be challenging to have a kid who wants to be a writer — it’s not like you can just go out and join the Band Boosters and support your child’s passion by raising money to buy new trumpets or whatever. There’s no ‘Poet Boosters’ for parents.)

So now it’s a few weeks later and I’m still thinking about it, and I’m still a little perplexed by the question. But I’ve had some coffee, and I’m ready to take another crack at it.

What should you do to help your child pursue her dreams of becoming a writer?

First of all, let her be bored. Let her have long afternoons with absolutely nothing to do. Limit her TV-watching time and her internet-playing time and take away her cell phone. Give her a whole summer of lazy mornings and dreamy afternoons. Make sure she has a library card and a comfy corner where she can curl up with a book. Give her a notebook and five bucks so she can pick out a great pen. Insist she spend time with the family. It’s even better if this time is spent in another state, a cabin in the woods, a cottage on the lake, far from her friends and people her own age. Give her some tedious chores to do. Make her mow the lawn, do the dishes by hand, paint the garage. Make her go on long walks with you and tell her you just want to listen to the sounds of the neighborhood.

Let her be lonely. Let her believe that no one in the world truly understands her. Give her the freedom to fall in love with the wrong person, to lose her heart, to have it smashed and abused and broken. Occasionally be too busy to listen, be distracted by other things, have your nose in a great book, be gone with your own friends.

Let her have secrets. Let her have her own folder on the family computer. Avoid the temptation to read through her notebooks. Writing should be her safe haven, her place to experiment, her place to work through her confusion and feelings and thoughts. If she does share her writing with you, be supportive of her hard work and the journey she’s on. Ask her questions about her craft and her process. Ask her what was hardest about this piece and what she’s most proud of. Don’t mention publication unless she mentions it first. Remember that writing itself is the reward.

Let her get a job. Let her work long hours for crappy pay with a mean employer and rude customers. If she wants to be a writer, she’ll have to be comfortable with hard work and low pay. Let her spend her own money on books and lattes – they’ll be even sweeter when she’s worked hard for them.

Let her fail. Let her write pages and pages of painful poetry and terrible prose. Let her write painfully bad fan fiction. Don’t freak out when she shows you stories about Bella Swan making out with Draco Malfoy. Never take her writing personally or assume it has anything to do with you, even if she only writes stories about dead mothers and orphans.

Let her go without writing if she wants to. Never nag her about writing, even if she’s cheerful when writing and completely unbearable when she’s not. Let her quit writing altogether if she wants to.

Let her make mistakes.

Let her stay after school to work on the newspaper, but only if she wants to. Let her publish embarrassingly personal stories in the school literary magazine. Let her spill the family’s secrets. Let her tell the truth, even if you’d rather not hear it.

Let her sit outside at night under the stars. Give her a flashlight to write by.

Let her find her own voice, even if she has to try on the voices of a hundred others first to do so. Let her find her own truth, even if she has to spin outrageous lies in search of it. Remember that her truth isn’t the same as anyone else’s truth, and that even if you were there with her when it happened, your memories of a moment will likely be vastly different from hers. Let her write thinly-veiled memoirs disguised as fiction. It’s okay if she massages past events to make a better story, or leaves entire years of her life on the cutting room floor. It’s okay if she writes about characters who have nothing to do with her life, her experience, or her world. That’s what fiction is.

Let her write poetry on her jeans and her shoes and her backpack, even if you just bought them brand new.

Keep her safe but not too safe, comfortable but not too comfortable, happy but not too happy.

Above all else, love and support her. Love her and believe in her. Love her, and let her go. In the end, your love is all that matters, and it will be enough. The rest will come from her.

Wenke vir Inspirasie Februarie 16, 2012

My seun met Balto en Cindy

Wat doen jy wanneer jy inspirasie nodig het? Asseblief, moenie preek nie! Ek weet skrywers is nie veronderstel om te wag vir inspirasie nie. Ek weet skryf is een persent inspirasie en nege-en-negentig persent perspirasie. Dat mens elke dag moet skryf, of jy nou lus voel daarvoor of nie. Dat jy nooit êrens gaan kom as jy sit en wag vir inspirasie nie. Ek weet selfs dat die lesers op die ou end waarskynlik nie kan onderskei tussen die dele in die boek waar jy vol inspirasie was en die dele waar jy vir ure na die skerm sit en staar het nie. Probeer dit bietjie: lees jou manuskrip na die tyd deur en kyk of jy kan onthou waar jou vingers oor die sleutels gevlieg en waar jy dit oorweeg het om nooit weer iets anders as tjeks en kruidenierslysies te skryf nie. Gewoonlik moet mens maar skryf, of jy nou geïnspireerd voel of nie.
Maar wens jy nie partykeer mens kon inspirasie in ‘n botteltjie koop nie? Amper soos homeopatiese druppeltjies wat jy op jou tong gooi. Niks farmaseuties nie – niks onnatuurliks nie – net ‘n ultra-klein dosis wat eintlik jou liggaam se eie inherente inspirasie stimuleer. Sou ons nie ‘n fortuin met so ‘n middel kon maak nie?
Hier is ‘n paar dinge wat vir my werk wanneer my muse PMS het:
• Gaan sien ‘n kunsfliek, iets met stunning fotografie. Voer vir jou brein ongewone beelde. Dikwels spark dit net iets in jou suwwe verstand.
• Blaai deur tydskrifte en maak ‘n collage omtrent jou projek. Begin deur AL die images uit te skeur wat vir jou die atmosfeer van jou storie verpersoonlik. Kies ‘n groterige beeld as agtergrond. Knip nou die res van die prente wat met jou praat uit, en plak hulle op die agtergrond om ‘n nuwe beeld te skep. Die beeld moet ‘n storie vertel. Freewrite dan vir so tien minute oor die storie. Ou National Geographics maak fantastiese collages. Dit voel soos heiligskennis om uit hulle te knip, maar tweedehandse boekwinkels hou dikwels spotgoedkoop ou kopieë aan.
• Freewrite met jou non-dominante hand oor jou storie. Soms sal ek ‘n onderhoud voer met een van my karakters. Ek skryf ‘n vraag met my dominante hand (in een kleur pen) en laat my karakter met my non-dominante hand antwoord in ‘n ander kleur. Klink skisofrenies, ek weet, maar vir my het dit regtig al wondere verrig. Volgens James Frey is skrywersblok dikwels te wyte aan ‘n onvoldoende kennis van ons karakters. Hierdie tegniek is daarop gemik om hulle beter te leer ken, en om ‘n ander deel van die brein te gebruik.
• Gaan stap – verkieslik met ‘n hond. My seun se Husky, Balto, was in ‘n vorige lewe ‘n personal trainer (wat natuurlik verklaar waarom hy in ‘n laer inkarnasie moes terugkom!). Hy trek mens teen so ‘n pas agter hom aan, dat jy nie anders kan as om deur die pyn-barrier te breek en ‘n endorfien-rush te kry nie. Na ‘n halfuur saam met hom is ek maar net te bly om weer voor my rekenaar te mag gaan stilsit. En ek’s natuurlik so natgesweet dat ek eers moet stort – ‘n aktiwiteit wat om die een of ander onverklaarbare rede ook my kreatiwiteit stimuleer. My kinders is heeltemal gewoond daaraan om my kaal en druipnat na my rekenaar te sien storm. Hopelik sal daardie topverkoper wat ek eendag nog gaan skryf, vir die terapie betaal.
• Knip ‘n uiltjie. Mens se brein is ongelooflik kreatief in daardie limbo-area tussen slaap en wakker. Maak net seker dat jy jou idees gou-gou neerskryf voor jy verder dut. Ek vergeet myne gewoonlik!
• Gaan loop in ‘n boekwinkel rond. Herinner jouself daaraan dat al die boeke wat nou op die rakke staan, geskryf is deur mense wat soos jy gevoel het. Kyk sommer waar op die rak jou boek sal staan, en visualiseer hom daar.
• Lees – veral iets uit ‘n ander genre. My romanses het al wonderlike inspirasie-inspuitings gekry uit tydskrifte en selfs horror-boeke (moenie vra nie…)
• Skryf aan iets heeltemal anders as jou boek. Stel ‘n timer vir tien minute. Gryp ‘n vinnige pen en ‘n goedkoop oefeningboek. Hou jou hand aan die beweeg – moenie ophou nie. As jy nie weet wat om te skryf nie, skryf “ek weet nie wat om te skryf nie”. Probeer soveel sensoriese detail as moontlik gebruik: wat jy gehoor, gesien, geruik, gevoel en geproe het. Natalie Goldberg se Old Friend From Far Away het heerlike prompts, maar jy kan ook idees van die internet aflaai of selfs een lyntjie uit ‘n gedig gebruik as jou eerste sin. Ek glo ‘n mens gebruik makliker jou authentic stem in jou fiksie as jy eers vir ‘n paar minute iets outobiografies skryf, soos ‘n herrinering.
• Verf, teken of spoeg-en-plak. Ek dink nie dis toeval dat ek ernstig begin skryf het in die jaar wat ek ‘n kreatiwiteitsklas by ‘n kunsterapeut begin loop het nie. Hierdie kursus was proses-gedrewe eerder as produk-gedrewe. Dit het my soveel geleer oor die skryfproses – oor hoe om my innerlike skepper van my innerlike ‘editor’ te skei. Goeie boeke oor proses-gedrewe kuns is No More Secondhand Art deur Peter London en Life, Paint and Passion deur Michelle Cassou en Stewart Cubley. Scrapbooking is goud werd vir ‘n skrywer, glo ek. Mens kan heerlik dink terwyl jy sit en knip en die gevoel van voldoening en voltooiing wat jy kry wanneer jy ‘n blad klaargemaak het, dra oor na jou skryfwerk. Onthou om jou muse die hof te maak – om haar te plesier met vorme van kreatiwiteit wat soos speel voel eerder as werk. Dit inspireer my om selfs net deur ‘n winkel vol scrapbook-papier te loop. Hoewel dit natuurlik ook ‘n geval van noodsaaklikheid kan wees. Ek’s geneig om soveel geld in sulke winkels te spandeer dat ek noodgedwonge moet werk om die gewoonte te onderhou.

Die uitsig van die stoep op Poplar Grove

• Skryf iewers anders. Gaan sit in ‘n koffiewinkel of in die Botaniese Tuine. Skryf met die hand. Of gebruik jou skootrekenaar – sonder die kragprop. Dit sal jou dwing om vinnig en dringend te skryf, wat outomaties die ‘editor’ in jou kop afskakel. Beter nog, gaan op ‘n writer’s retreat – alleen of saam met ander. My gunstelingplek daarvoor is Poplar Grove Farm naby Colesberg in die Karoo. Daar kan ek op die stoep sit en die oopte van die landskap rondom my toelaat om my siel te voed.
Het jy enige tips om te deel? Wat inspireer jou? Asseblief, moenie skaam wees nie. Jou wenk kan vir ‘n medeskrywer die verskil maak tussen ‘n produktiewe en onproduktiewe dag!