New versions of myself

I've spent the last few weeks updating my websites in an attempt to embrace all this modern technology and stuff. Heck, I may even Tweet soon.

In the process of my updating, I've installed two walking, talking versions of myself onto the sites courtesy of the marvellous chaps at Personal Web Presenter (www.personalwebpresenter.co.nz).

Only when I looked at them afresh did I realise how many versions of myself actually exist. To begin with, there is Marketing Savvy Jill ), the version who decides that putting video clips of oneself onto a website is going to increase one's Google rating. Or something like that. Look, I'm trying, okay?

Then there's Children's Entertainer Jill, in obligatory bright clothing and doing strange 'come closer' gestures to my imaginary audience (www.jillmarshallbooks.com). I'm hoping the readers I'm trying to entertain appreciate me making an idiot of myself, yet again.

And now, in the attempt to convince my adult writer clientele that I am, in fact: 1, a genuine author; 2, a genuine adult and 3, not an idiot at all, there's Calm Consultant Jill on www.writegoodstuff.co.nz .

They're all me, and they're all real, which leads me once more to the multi-faceted life of the author. Or schizophrenic, to give it its proper name.

Now I'm starting to get a little worried. People are always asking me if Jane Blonde is my daughter, and I always tell them that no, Jane Blonde is me as a child. Well, not marvellous Jane Blonde, but shy and awkward Janey Brown. Jean Brown, her mum, is probably me. G-Mamma? Mad Me.

When I come to think of it, most of my female characters are based to a greater or lesser extent on ... yes, me.

So now I'm thinking ... hmmm, what if I just write a rich version of myself? A staggeringly beautiful version of me whose age is magically reversing? A fascinating chat show host version of me who interviews all the other versions of me and gets Oprah-like ratings ... oh, think of the book club!

Can I write myself real? Or is that just another book in the making?

Anyway, the human just-walked-the-dog-and-made-tea-for-my-daughter version of me (which is the most prevalent of the Mes) needs a cup of tea and a session in front of the television to stop me worrying about it. Why not get the curious-and-what-is-the-mad-woman-on-about version of you to have a look at my websites.

SEE YA, BOYS AND GIRLS!
Bye for now, fellow writers.
The kettle's boiled, gotta go, buddy.

x

The madness of writers

I just read a fabulous article in The Author - the UK Society of Authors' mag - about links between creativity and psychoanalysis (CAN YOU FACE IT? Psychotherapy and writing, by Edward Marriott).

Apparently Freud believed there were many similarities between creative writers and healthy children at play, and he pinpointed five common characteristics: both create an imaginary world; both take it seriously; both invest it with considerable emotion; enliven it with material from external reality; and manage to keep it separate from reality.

I often tell kids when I'm talking at their schools that I love my work because I am allowed, or even required to day-dream for a living. Isn't that just like the best job EVA?

Although more and more, these days (as witnessed by me suddenly breaking out into incidents of tween/teen-speak), the lines are getting rather blurry, particularly on that last point - keeping the day-dream separate from reality. For instance, I'm now blogging in character (http://www.g-mammaraps4u.blogspot.com). Try doing that for a while and then zipping off to the supermarket. It can make for some very strange exchanges with other customers, not to mention some odd choices in the shopping trolley ...

Anyway, I don't care. It's what I do; I love it; and I'm not quite ready for an institution yet. And if Freud says it's okay, then who am I to argue?

So if you'll excuse me, I'm off to run barefoot through some paint and then trail it through the house and see what kind of shapes it makes. L8r.

The author in public

Rccently a friend of mine, a screenwriter writing his first novel, asked me what I enjoyed about writing books. I told him that I love the writing itself, and I love it when someone tells me that my book has affected them in some way, and that I could really do without all the stuff in the middle (the editing, the packaging, the marketing and promotion etc).

Last week, however, which I spent in the company of eight other writers and illustrators touring the schools of the Taranaki, I realised anew that you don't reach that point of meeting a beaming, tongue-tied fan without going through all those other parts of the process too. And that, really, promoting children's books in this way is an absolute joy.

Much of that pleasure came from talking to the kids themselves. We all spoke to three schools a day for three days, with audiences ranging from 16 kids who made up the entire school, to 60 odd students who were just some of the classes in a bigger school. It was exhausting, but I couldn't fail to be energised by the enthusiasm, talent and brilliant questions that those children brought to the discussions, though some were barely five years old and some already teenagers.

The other element in that fun-filled five days, however, was the other adults: the fabulous librarians who organised and chauffeured and chaperoned; the teachers and school library staff who pass on their love of books and reading to their pupils, and the other writers and illustrators on the tour. I felt honoured to be in their company, and in this wider appreciation of the world of children's books.

Check out the books, websites and personal appearances of those I was lucky enough to share a bus with: Gabrielle Lord, Michelle Osment, Nikki Slade-Robinson, Ben Galbraith, Katz Cowley, Trudy Nicholson, Tim Tipene, and Craig Smith. All different, all talented, all excellent. The only downside of being on this tour was that I had to speak myself and didn't get chance to hear what they were all up to. Next time I'll be in their audience, and I'll look forward to reading their books along with all those Taranaki kids they inspired.