No humanity, just no.

I’ve been glued to the news coverage of the Sydney hostage situation this morning. It’s human nature to be fascinated by such things, to rubber neck. We are told as children not to look at traffic accidents, but we can’t help it. Looking isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as long as we don’t hinder aid or gratuitously gawp. We are a breed obsessed with story, we tell ourselves tales to aid understanding, to reassure, to entertain, to grown. When we see a story unfolding in front of us, of course we are curious about the outcome.

People are watching the news channels, following the twitter hashtag and lingering in person, waiting for the conclusion of the Sydney siege story. Most people are willing the outcome to be a positive one for the people involved.

Most people, some people however seem to have forgotten their humanity. It’s not often I despair of the human race, but some of the team are letting us down today. I’m not sure what they are thinking. Maybe they meant to pick their common, human decency up as they were leaving the house, but accidently left it on the kitchen table or a hook by the door? Who in their right mind would take a selfie at the scene of a hostage crisis?

Taking a picture, that’s one thing. Our passion for sharing stories means that we want to share what we see unfolding. We want to help others understand. Something that is particularly easy in our society of smartphone and instant communication. Taking a picture that says look at me, I am here, that is something else entirely.

What does taking selfies at an event of human suffering, say about our collective narcissism? What are we becoming? I have very few problems with our levels of modern day communication and the new trends that are born of them. I know there is a great deal of mixed feeling about the advent of the selfie, but there has been negativity about many things through the ages which has turned out to be redundant. These things usually pan out; we muddle our way through to find a balanced status quo. The things I have seen today however make me very uneasy.

I can usually look at a situation and see the reasons why people act the way they do. Whether I agree with them or not, I am reasonable good at seeing the motivation of others. What I have seen today however, baffles and saddens me. I just can’t fathom what they are thinking; I suspect perhaps they are not thinking at all. What has led us to a point, where there are those among us, who can so callously observe our collective story unfolding, seemingly without thought or emotion? They must be viewing it totally passively, how else would they be able to take such pictures without seeing the creepiness of their actions?

The worst part is that they seem like perfectly ordinary human beings, probably with families and regular jobs and concerns. Is it because we have to think so little these days that we are beginning to forget how? We don’t think about much, we switch ourselves off. We don’t want to think about what we eat, what we do, how things are made. So many of us live in a world where simplicity is key, where we don’t have to or want to think about it. Have we become passive observes of our own existence? If we have where will it lead us and how are we going to stop ourselves slipping into the abyss?  Maybe that is something we should start thinking about.

Writing Life

I have been at this writing malarkey, full time, for just over three months now. I thought I knew what I was doing, I thought it was just about sitting down and writing. Oh how naïve I was. I have learnt more in the last few months that I have in my thirty *cough mumble* years previous.

Did you know that if you plan on selling your finely crafted novel to a foreign market you might come unstuck if it’s too long? An English book translated to German will be 30% longer; I had never even considered that might be an issue.  That’s not really what I mean though. Sure I have learnt lots of industry tidbits that I am sure will come in useful further down the line but what I am really talking about is my own process.

Before I started this journey I had some very specific opinions about my writing process and what worked for me. If I hadn’t taken the time to dedicate myself solely to the purpose of writing, I think I could very well have continued to hold those opinions. I probably would have blamed my lack of progress on the fact I didn’t have time to write, and not seen that I wasn’t managing my own blocks.

Before I started writing full time I would have insisted to anyone who asked that I am not a planner. I could not possibly plan where my work is going, it destroys the creative process. Wrong, oh how wrong could I be? I have been stuck for a long time, waffling about the same scene, not really saying anything, totally unaware that what was happening was that my luck of planning was forcing me to write myself into a corner.

Sure I knew roughly where I was going, but I didn’t know how I was getting there or most importantly why. The last three months have reinforced the importance of the why. Without the why, there is no story. For someone who isn’t much of a hopeless romantic in real life I have definitely been one about my writing. If it is mean to be it will just happen, it’s a talent you have or you don’t, not a skill you learn. What nonsense.

I have come to the firm belief that anyone can write a perfectly good, publishable book. You have to care enough to put the effort in to actually write it, which means that anyone likely to achieve it does have to have a passion for writing and the talent to keep plugging away for 100,000 words.

Just writing away without paying attention to the skill and craft of storytelling however, is pointless. You might be able to write all those words, but if the words don’t take you anywhere, what is the point? You have to practise the skill; you have to critically look at where your story is going and why. You have to be aware of your themes, not just assume they’ll happen, even if just to stick to the same one and not confuse your reader.

I’ve been doing this for three months and the most important thing I have learnt is that writing is like anything else, if you close your mind, you won’t get anywhere.