A Little Ditty

Just something small for a rainy Saturday night.
Humour this student with pages still to go....

What I wish I looked like when I study...(source)

A Bookly Ditty by Amy

Upstroke

Down

Across

Round

Completed

Bound

Bookshelf

Found

Stormy night

Candle light

Where am I?

Came the cry

At last look...

Lost in book

The Privilege of Understanding Ourselves

'It [this book] reminds us that we read because literature offers the privilege of understanding ourselves through the lives of others. It reminds us that with this privilege comes the unanticipated power to change our own lives.'

- Rabalais, K 2012, 'Desperation unfolds like a luminous dream', Review: The Australian, 3-4 March, p.18-19.

This week I have been doing a lot of reading.Now, that really shouldn't be a surprise with a degree title 'Writing, Editing, and Publishing', should it?

I have long loved the written word; as a child I would read anything I could get my hands on, as a teenager I would stay up to all hours of the morning to finish a new novel that had been delivered to my hands that very morning, and as an adult I spend hours everyday reading (nowadays a lot of blogs make up my reading list!), now I am in the process of making reading my job!

A few years ago, when I was going through a period where I lost my own sense of character, my individual needs and the essential joie de vivre, I lost my love of reading. Somehow my lifelong love of losing myself between the pages, dancing between the lines, and travelling the world from my arm chair, had disappeared. 

As I started making positive changes and walking slowly back into the light my appetite was reawakened. 

A hunger like none I had ever experienced took me over, satiety could only be achieved through a steady diet of text. The last two years have been filled with literature from all walks of life: romantic fiction, histories, science journals and books, cookbooks, explorers tales, pop psychology, and poetry.  

The wonderful chance that I have been given, to be in a place in my life where I am able to go back to university, has allowed me to begin appreciating the craft of the written word from a wholly new perspective. To begin exploring the very basics, such as the intricacies assigned to constructing a 'proper' sentence and the macro level issues like breaking into the publishing industry.

I think I have fallen into the right (or should that be write?) rabbit hole Alice.

I would never give back the five years that I spent at university for my undergraduate degrees; I gained the knowledge and power to help others, and myself, and one of the greatest friendships of my life.

But this time I am studying something that I have a true passion for and I feel the excitement every time I walk into a lecture or tutorial.

When I read the newspaper this weekend and saw this quote in a book review it echoed with me.

Why do I read?

I read to learn, I read to escape, to come back to myself and all that is important, I read to be reminded of times in my past and to be inspired for the future, I read to step into another's shoes for a while, I read to be whisked away to foreign lands, or to dream of places that don't exist.

There is privilege in peaking into the life of others, to learn from their travails, be entertained by their tales, and to be reminded of the ordinary beauty in our world.

The minutiae of daily life can take away our ability to probe more deeply into our experience, to allow time to reflect on what we have been through, and to imagine all the possibilities of the world.

There in lies the privilege of reading.

The gift of an author stimulating those deeper feelings about our experience, helping us question what we have seen and done and the acts of others. The chance to reflect on what the world has to offer, or how everyone's experience of life can be so different and yet contain so many similarities to our own, no matter where in time or place they have lived.

The privilege is the seed that a good book can sew in our minds that grows into inspiration to dream of all that is to come....

Tell me, dear reader, why do you read?

Back to School!

Hello my lovely reader,
I must apologise for my absence these last few weeks, I have been busily preparing for (and freaking out about) going back to university again!
On Tuesday I left work in the afternoon and made the trek across town to my university campus for my first lecture. I must admit that this first lecture scared me a little, okay, a lot. Coming from a science background I feel that I face a huge learning curve with this graduate degree in writing, editing and publishing. I am afraid of this curve, that it could possibly throw me off like a motorcycle racer who leans to close to the corner and gets torn from the bike. It is important to acknowledge this fear, to give it a name and look it in the eye. Once I know what the fear is exactly, what it's spidery arms are reaching towards and how far it has spread, I can begin the work of counteracting the fear on my terms.
So I am afraid of a curve in my learning. It is a good curve but the fear inside me is that I am not up to the task. To counter this I need to remind myself that I have already been to university (albeit in a different context) but I know that I am capable of the work expected at these institutions (Amy: 1; Fear: 0).
I am also excited by this learning and that battles fear in a big way because that excitement feeds motivation, which in turn nourishes hard work (Amy: 2; Fear: 0).
But the final point in my trio of battling points against fear is that I have love and support from the people around me, and fear is all by itself!
Final Score. Amy: 3. Fear: 0.

When I headed off to my second lecture yesterday I was understandably apprehensive, but I walked out of the room inspired.

Part of the beautiful campus at UQ.

As part of our assessment we have to write a response to each week's lecture. These responses can include poetry, so of course I made up a little nonsense poem about the inspiration and hope I always feel when I walk out of the first week of lectures, the dreams that are inspired by the possibilities of where this course could lead me. I hope you enjoy.

“First Lecture Dreams” by Amy Chatwin

Last night in those starry dreamless hours

I surrendered myself to those highest powers

The dreams called forth by a first lecture’s hope

This is what I remembered through the haze as I awoke

I dreamt of typewriters and coffee stained pages

Submissions from hipsters and new fashioned sages

Whisked away to a world where offbeat is god

But corduroy and activism is not my scene so the dream moved on

Now I’m in a high rise, Prada suited and coiffed

Shiny windows, harbour views, a Blackberry always going off

Rushing in heels, call to my assistant to “Get Ms. Wintour on the phone!!”

This slickness doesn’t suit, oh Morpheus please find my publishing home!

Then I’m landing in soft pages and a pot of tea brewed

Crumbs, galleys from a new Nigella (post-its galore!) across my desk are strewn

Laughter from the kitchen – celebration of a new ‘cook-blook’ to come

Morpheus you found it – the perfect ingredients – hard work, food and fun

A place where ‘yummy’ is a defining criteria

Proofs with recipes crowding their interiors

Yoho and a bottle of essence of rum

A job baked from this batter seems just the right (write) one!

Before I can taste this ambrosia delight

The dawn starts calling an end to the night

My alarm calls to alert a new day and end this sweet sleep

Lecture notes, assignments yet to do, remind me

It’s only first week!

I've Been Keeping a Secret

I can be secretive sometimes.
Greedy sometimes.
I like to hoard secrets occasionally and wait for exactly the right time to revel in their lip-smackingly delicious delivery.
Note: I also do this sometimes with the last piece of chocolate cake.
So, here it is. The secret that I have been keeping for the past two weeks (unfortunately there isn't any buttercream involved).
After a two year break, and swearing that I would probably never go back to school after 18 years of formal education; I, Amy, being of (questionably) sound mind and (for the most part) sound body, am going back to university! (again...)
Next year in February I will once again return to the hallowed halls of my alma mater (in reality a sprawling modern campus with an 'urban village' centre) and crack open the books (or laptop as it were) in an attempt to utilise my grey matter.
I will be completing a post graduate course in professional communication, focusing mainly on writing and editing.

I want to take the body of knowledge I have from my background in health, my innate sense curiosity for the world, and my enjoyment of learning and use that to tell the world about things. To bring knowledge, and information, and entertainment to people by writing.

I want to give voice to the parts of my soul that sing of how extraordinary this world is. I want to investigate the corners of my mind that create characters who follow me around begging for their stories to be written.

I want to use the written word to enchant, amaze, comfort, empower, soothe, and inspire others.

I want to be a writer.

Now you know my secret...