I had barely posted last Thursday’s writing quote, when I realized that I didn’t agree with it 100%.

Just to recap, the quote was from US author Ellen Gilchrist (1935 -2024)  and read:

“How often I have tried to tell writing students that the first thing a writer must do is love the reader and wish the reader well.”

I still love the quote and I definitely do think respecting and valuing readers is a really important part of the writing life. The “not 100%” lies in that, on reflection, I don’t believe it’s the “first” thing.

… havin’ fun with readers 😉

The absolute first thing a writer must do, in my humble opinion, is love writing. And the second is to love reading. If only because, in my experience, they go together in a very yin-yang type way, where one blends into the other and the boundary between them is always fluid.

with Felicia, a young ‘Wall of Night’ reader

So while loving the reader is important, it ranks after the other two for me — because without first loving reading and writing enough to write oneself, there will be no readers to love. (Upside-down smile.)

At Armageddon

I can assure you, though, that I love all three. 😀

Nothing beats a bookshop crowd

“How often I have tried to tell writing students that the first thing a writer must do is love the reader and wish the reader well.”

~ Ellen Gilchrist, 1935 – 2024

~*~

“Just a literary quote” for today’s post, but I think it’s a good one. It certainly resonated with me the first time I read it, similar to the AS Byatt quote on readers and writers.

For those who may not know, Ellen Gilchrist was a US author (from the American South), who the NY Times described as a “writer with an eye on the South’s foibles.” She won a National Book Award for her 1984 collection of short stories, Victory Over Japan.

As for why “just a quote” today — well, that would be because I’m beavering on m’own writing and getting to a position where I can do a  “proper update.” 😀

I think I’m building up a head of steam now, with this post series on leadership.

Leader number #4 is someone I’ve mentioned before, though not in such depth. Yep, it’s John Aversin from Barbara Hambly’s Dragonsbane, and I believe he ticks quite a number, if not all, the leadership boxes.

There may be a few overlaps to real life as well, but I’ll let you be the judge of that. You’ll have to rock on over and have a read, of course — but I gave it some oomph, so I hope you will. 😀

To which end, the link will help: (;-) )

Great Leaders of Speculative Fiction #4: John Aversin of Dragonsbane

…& here, too, be dragons!

While you’re on Supernatural Underground, you may like to check out Kim Falconer’s post on narrative persuasion:

The Art of Adaptation — Reader Persuasion

Arcane

Enjoy — and have the very best week you can, wherever you are and whatever doing.

UK/AU/NZ

The “Meet the Minor Players” post features the minor characters in The Wall Of Night series because:

“I think it’s the presence of the smaller characters that “makes” a story, creating texture around the main points of view.”

~ Helen Lowe (from my Legend Award Finalist’s Interview)

Sometimes, though, the minor character may exist in the story’s past while shaping its present. And sometimes, the character may be not one, but two individuals.

Both circumstances that apply to Pha’Rho-l-Ynor, in Daughter of Blood.

~*~

USA

Pha’Rho-l-Ynor: A Sea House navigator, lost four hundred years before.

Pha’Rho-l-Ynor: A Sea House ship, lost four hundred years ago with all hands, including its navigator. 

...he spoke the words that were fire in his throat. “…My mother was a weatherworker and navigator, called Pha’Rho-l-Ynor after the ship of the same name. Through her and the name I bear, I brought the essence of of Yelusin, once contained in the ship, Pha’Rho-l-Ynor, back to the Sea Keep.”

~ from © Daughter of Blood, The Wall Of Night Book Three – Chapter 61, Old Blood

I’m keenly conscious you’re all waiting for a book update, and that I said “soon” in January yet here we are, in the last week of April and I’m still saying “not quite yet.”

Yarp, still locked in that writing tower of doom & destiny…
art by Peter Fitzpatrick

The Wall muse, as you may have gathered, is more than a mite cantankerous, so saying “soon” was probably overly bold, because ever since then it’s been 2.5 steps back for every 3 forward. And what appeared to be just a few puzzle pieces to fit together, has proven to be altogether more challenging.

“Just a little stream to skip across,” I thought…

A circumstance that exercises me every bit as much as it does you! And keeps me in that writing tower!! Nonetheless, the upside is that consistent half step forward, which is keeping progress on the plus side of the ledger.

And although I do have a weather, and somewhat apprehensive eye on Mt Parnassus* as I type this, I also have all digits pretzelled (although no firm promises for exactitude, “because muses”) that I’ll be posting the long-awaited update very shortly.

“To the muses, that they may be kind” — Calliope, Muse of Epic Poetry, by Giuseppe Fagnani, Metropolitan Museum of Art

*Traditionally, Mt Parnassus was the main home of the muses. All of which I've written about 
in more detail here.

The ANZAC stands for “Australia and New Zealand Army Corp”, and ANZAC Day in NZ commemorates New Zealanders that have served and died in war, most significantly WW1 and WW2.

It’s a day of remembrance, and for honouring service, sacrifice and community, but also, for many, a day for reflecting on the importance of peace.

ANZAC Memorial, Richmond 2022

Although ANZAC stems from the Australian and NZ forces that went fought in the ill-fated Gallipoli campaign in Turkey, its symbol is the Flanders poppy from the European battlefields of WW1 — which is (I believe) universal throughout the (British) Commonwealth of Nations.

I have posted on several aspects of ANZAC Day before, chiefly but not exclusively from a literary perspective, so if you’re interested in reading more, I’ve collated the links below. I particularly note ANZAC Day: April 25, under Commentary, and The ANZAC Memorial and the Words of M. Kemal Atatürk under Commemoration, in terms of the significance of the day.

The Atatürk Memorial, Wellington NZ

Poetry:

NZEF Trooper 203453 by Leigh Vickridge

Ellen’s Vigil by Lorna Staveley Anker

Armistice by Lorna Staveley Anker

Short Fiction:

A Peek Inside The Fountain

Commentary & Review:

ANZAC Day: April 25

ANZAC Day and the NZ Novel

ANZAC Day and NZ Poetry

Some ANZAC Themed NZ Children’s Books

ANZAC Diary: A Nonentity in Khaki by Anonymous

Commemoration

The ANZAC Memorial and the Words of M. Kemal Atatürk

ANZAC Memorial (Inglewood)

Today is Easter Monday and a public holiday, so rather than writing something new, I thought I’d reshare my post from this very date in 2016 — which turns out to be a dragon quote from Thornspell, so doubly fun. 😀

“Rue … was nowhere to be seen as he turned and stepped toward the fire. He snatched another glance back, in case he had missed her, and stopped short as a huge red and golden dragon soared out of the twisting streams of energy and reality. Sigismund stared, sure he must be delirious—or really dreaming now—and then the dragon and everything else disappeared as fire roared around him.”

~ Chapter 9, Substance and Shadow

You know, the Ray Bradbury 1000 nights in which he suggested reading a poem, a short story, and an essay every night.

You may also recall that I’ve had a l’il help from m’friends with a poetry chapbook and two short fiction anthologies from Scotland.

Sadly, I must confess to already falling short of the three per night. O-o!

Happily however, so far I am managing one per night — with a few classics, such as Robert Frost’s Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening, and William Carlos Williams’ This Is Just to Say, along with John Masefield’s Cargoes and Sea Fever, interspersing the Scottish works. It is, after all, always good to revisit old friends.

In terms of the chapbook, Ten Poems From Scotland, I have now read four of the ten:

• Mouse skeleton by Jason Watts
• Re-reading Katherine Mansfield’s ‘Bliss and Other Stories’ by Douglas Dunn
• Etching of a Line of Trees by John Glenday
• Brendon Gallacher by Jackie Kay

Mostly, but not completely in the order they appear — and the poets all new names to me, which adds to their interest.

In terms of the Blether, I have read four of these as well: three short fictions:

• Squeak by Lindz McLeod
• Crossing the Bridge by Kirsty Souter
• Cordless by Catherine Wilson

and an essay:

Blether by Nikesh Shukla

I’ve enjoyed all of them, but I think the last may be my favourite currently, if only ‘by a nose.’ 😀

Although not sure how I’ll go on the entire 1000 days (or 1001 nights), anything that encourages revisiting old friends and trying the new feels like a goodness.

Last week I shared an idea on reading from the great Ray Bradbury. I also shared that I considered his writing influential — and remain in awe of the prescience of many of the ideas explored through his writing.

But when it comes to gorgeous words, it’s hard to beat this:

“Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don’t they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.”

~ Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine (1957)

So-o, awa’ aways back on Monday, I shared an idea from the great Ray Bradbury about reading a poem, a short story, and an essay every night for “the next thousand nights.”

Why not 1001, I ponder — it is, after all, traditional. However, one thousand it is. 😀

And I’m off to a flying start, because recent visitors from Scotland came bearing the following gifts:

Ten poems from Scotland

Selected and introduced by Don Paterson

This is a chapbook featuring ten poems penned by Scottish poets, and published by Candlestick Press. Taking a peep within, I’m pretty sure I can manage a poem a night…

Blether 

Blether is an anthology of short fictions on the theme of that great Scottish word, “blether.” It was produced by the Scottish Book Trust for Book Week Scotland. Being micro fiction, or short short stories, many are of comparable length to a poem. So again, I think I could add a wee blether to the reading of a poem*, every night.

Tales From The Ruins

Tales From The Ruins, subtitled A Post-Apocalyptic Anthology, comprises fourteen short stories of “…a world in ruins” that are also “intimate and moving accounts” of what might be if the worst, in terms of environmental catastrophe, pandemics, or cataclysmic war, should occur.

Best of all, one of those short stories was penned by one of my visitors: Help, Scotland by Malcolm Timperley. The stories are varied in size, but I could probably manage most in an evening.

All this, of course, assumes one’s evenings have space for poetry and short stories, as well as a spot o’ blether — but if not, it may be time to make some. Especially since they are very short. 🙂

~*~

*Maybe not Paradise Lost or The Rime of the Ancient Mariner tho'--those are epic fantasy-length 
verses. :D