Me, Me, Me

Emily here, writing from Sydney, Australia. First I want to say thanks very much, Donna, for being so bloody charming and funny. How am I supposed to follow that? If you'd thought about me at all, you might have tried to be just a little less amusing. But I do forgive you since you left me that charming fellow on the sofa. Sweet.

When our absent host wrote that my novel, Taming the Beast, made her want to ‘curl up into a fetal position and stare unfixedly at a wall’ I was both delighted and appalled. Delighted because when I started writing this book I was a sleep deprived payroll clerk trying only to expel the alarming but compelling thoughts that stopped me sleeping. I didn’t dream my words would travel to the other side of the world and traumatise an innocent stranger. (I didn’t dream at all, actually. One of the more dangerous side effects of chronic insomnia.)

Which is where the being appalled comes in. I’m not someone who tries to make an impact. I’ve never been one to court controversy or scream and throw things just to get attention. I’m the girl in the corner of the room trying desperately not to be noticed. I’m the girl whose hair is too flat, shoes too clean, jeans too new, the girl who giggles loudly at inappropriate times and has a coughing fit when she tries to stop. It frightens me that I wrote this book and that I sent it out into the world and that people are reading it. It appals me that something I did is causing any reaction at all, much less the kind of reaction Sarah wrote of.

So since agreeing to take the reins here is yet another example of my thrusting myself into whatever spotlight I can find while simultaneously breaking into a sweat at the thought of being so exposed, I thought I’d use my time here to explore some of the issues that have been fuelling my panic attacks and insomnia since my novel was released in June. I have a hunch that I’m not actually as special as my Mum says I am, which means maybe some of you have had similar experiences, and my self-indulgent navel-gazing will be transformed by your participation into a deep and worthwhile conversation about the writer’s life.

And because even I get bored of all-Emily-all-the-time, I’ll blog a bit about the Australian book world. I do hope you stick around.

Comments

[Jason Starr]

Looking forward to it! There's a good chance I'll be in Sydney next year, for the Sydney Writer's Festival...A world lit course; as fun as school should've been (except for this killer tests from Ms. Moore).

[M o I]

Oh, oh, you're also the author of that article on introversion Sarah linked to! (URL http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2004/05/28/1085641695883.html?from=storyrhs) Thank you so much for writing that -- I've given copies to people to tell them "Here, this is how it feels."

[Emily]

I hope you can make it to the Sydney Writer's Festival, Jason. It's a great event at a gorgeous location.

Re: the introversion article - publishing that piece was incredibly liberating. I'd been writing it in my head for the last decade.

[Donna]

Emily - a hearty welcome. By the way, I hope it's not too late to warn you that you should not try and prise open the locked cupboard in Sarah's spare bedroom AT ANY COST. She's a forensic scientist remember. I still haven't recovered from the shock. I've never seen such a large and gory collection.

Young Starr, I hope you're studying hard for your test. I wouldn't want to give you a bad report.

[Donna]

PS. Emily, at the party I will be joining you in the corner. I'm not an introvert, but I AM shy. If there is such a thing as a shy extrovert then I am it.

[M. J. Rose]

I'd love to read the article but the url doesn't work. And welcome to the blog!

[Emily]

Donna, that cupbpoard's really something, isn't it? You'd think she'd put a warning sticker on there. I know it's locked, but that's like an invitation to us curious writer types...

M.J. I've fixed the link above.
And hey, I read and loved Sheet Music recently - are your other titles available in Australia. I haven't seen them in the stores.