Revelation

Sunday was the final day of the Mildura Writers Festival, and it began with the last speaking event, which was the La Trobe University Annual Lecture delivered by David Malouf. An unrevealing title, I didn’t really know what to expect from this final verbal address.

What I found was a revelation. David spoke about the act of being a serious writer, defined by their insistence to write only that which can be considered entirely part of their personal, unique body of work. In elaborating on this, he explained the importance of resisting the temptation to write about that which is popular and current, that for which the commercial world would reward you. He further stated how crucial it is to write that which is personal and unique to a writer, that which the writer truly wants to write and wholly fits into their body of work, even if it means declining a potentially greater financial outcome.

I’ve been speaking about all of these moments during the festival that truly struck me, and I stand by each one. But David Malouf in this moment seemed to collect all of the sentiments conveyed over the past three days and deliver them in one electrifying lecture.

I have a short story collection on file that I completed two years ago and have left unpublished. I usually don’t like to talk about them because the truth is that I rushed them in order to achieve the finished product as soon as I could, and was left feeling totally dissatisfied with the quality of the stories. Nevertheless, I was desperate at the time to be published so I submitted my collection to three different publishers, and was predictably rejected by all three. But as time went by I realised it was a blessing not to have those stories out there, that my first public writing impression is yet to be made.

And the reason I’m bringing this up is that David’s sentiment has proven to be true in my own life. Because those stories were not reflective of who I am, were not the way my body of work was supposed to begin forming. I think I knew that at the time but could never articulate it as brilliantly as he did. Those stories were an experiment that failed, and they allowed me to start something that I wholeheartedly believe will succeed.

Towards the end, David summarised the overarching message of his lecture in one fantastic sentence: “I’ll take less money and stick with what I want to write.”

Thank you, David Malouf. I left that building after the lecture knowing that I, too, would abide by that principle, and would hold it like a lantern as I head slowly further through the thick fog of the writer’s life. I would love nothing more than to become as good at being me as you are at being you – you, who have travelled through that grey writer’s life fog, and thrived.