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Sam van Zweden

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Literary Tattoos

The mind-alteringly hilarious Melbournian siren otherwise known as Marieke Hardy last week wrote an article on “literary tattoos” for The Age, which you can read here.

“Literary ink,” says Hardy, “is the epitome of the nerds striking back.”

She suggests that tattoos don’t strictly have to be quotations in order to qualify as “literary tats”… I’m not sure if mine would fit into this category, or if my next planned piece of ink will either – something unoriginal (I’ve seen it on someone) yet witty: a set of quotation marks which open on one shoulder blade and close on the other.

While I certainly applaud those who sport quotations, I’d be terrified about putting someone’s words on myself. Some authors have been with me for a very long time – Roald Dahl, Enid Blyton, John Marsden, C.S Lewis, Ginsberg, Kerouac… But I’d be so scared of choosing the wrong words, for fear of there being more poignant words I could possibly have printed on the fleshy loveliness that is my body.

“In the end, the only thing that matters is that the words … inspire you on to greater things”

Do you have a tattoo that does this? Do you see another function for having someone else’s words tattoed on your body? Do you agree with it?

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Infloox?

I recently found an incredible website.

http://www.infloox.com/home

Infloox asks the question: “what are famous people’s favourite books? …today and throughout history?”

At the homepage of Infloox, you can type in the name of an author, a famous person, or the title of a work.  This then takes you to a page which provides a short biography of this person, or work. Under this is where it gets interesting…

Infloox lists (and wiki-style, allows feedback on) this person’s “infloox” (things that were influential upon that person’s life and work), and “outfloox” (the same idea but outwards – so things and people that were influenced by this person). Not only this, but Infloox is expanding what it lists… It now also lists “affinities”; giving details such as “people who liked this person also liked…”
I’m a sucker for these types of lists. I love being able to link ideas, works, people.

I’m blogging about this because I like to think about influences. Anyone who thinks that idea about not reading for fear of being overly influenced has any merit, is crazy. You need to be a good reader to be a good writer. Infloox is proof of that.

I’m also blogging about this because I like this site, and would like to see it grow. So click the link, send it to friends, help the database of Infloox grow so I can learn more…

If there was an Infloox page about me right now, it would have on it:

INFLOOX: John Marsden. Chuck Palahniuk. Robert Adamson. Raymond Carver.

OUTFLOOX: perhaps one of my musician-friends? Or my partner’s photography, that’d be nice.

What would your Infloox page look like?

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time away, time inside, time to think.

The reason I’ve been so quiet for the last week (plus…) is because I’ve been away.

For Christmas, Mum paid for my partner and I to go on a family trip with her and her fiancé… We went to see my brother and sister-in-law in Echuca, spent a few days there, then moved on to Daylesford where we stayed in a little cottage. Despite the usual tension that happens when you spend too much time with family, it was a good week.

Echuca had a great used book store, as did Daylesford.

I left with 3 books. I came back with 7… I exercised a great deal of self-restraint to only come home with four extra books.

The books I acquired:
1. Minimum of Two, by Tim Winton.
2. Love in the Time of Cholera, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
3. Tales of the Unexpected, by Roald Dahl.
4. Everything I Know About Writing, by John Marsden.

So this is added to my pile of Christmas books.

Other than the new additions to my bookshelf, the time away also gave me some time to read – I got a start on and am now quite a chunk through The Book Thief, and thoroughly enjoying it… Zusack has an amazing way with images.  (My favourite so far – “she had a breath that smelled like Heil Hitler”)… I also got up early and wrote as the sun came up over Echuca…

So what creative liberties has your holiday period given you? Have you acquired books? Pens? Notebooks? Time to yourself?

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Listmaker, 2010

I’m in a decidedly list-y mood today… So here’s a few.

TEN BOOKS I WILL READ IN 2010:
I got books for Christmas, then I went out and bought more books using my Christmas money. Then there’s the pile that I’ve had since last Christmas and never started.
1. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.
2. Sense & Sensibility by Jane Austen
3. Emma by Jane Austen
4. Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen
5. The Best Australian Poems 2009, ed Robert Adamson
6. The Best Australian Stories 2009, ed Delia Falconer
7. Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens
8. A Day In The Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
9. Dance of the Happy Shades by Alice Munro
10. Lullaby by Chuck Palahniuk

NINE FACTS ABOUT LAST NIGHT (NYE) AND TODAY:
1. I worked until 9pm. It was actually fun.
2. When we finally went out just after 10pm, it was bucketing rain. No cabs would pick us up for about 15 minutes.
3. We climbed more stairs to the rooftop than I have climbed in the last week.
4. I felt pretty.
5. Nobody knew when midnight really was, and there were at least 5 countdowns just from our roof-gathering.
6. I had a great chat with a man who was an incredibly good lier to strangers. I enjoy doing this too. The lie he’d been using that evening was that he’s a florist. Somebody at a party upstairs asked him to do her wedding.
7. Chris had a harmonica which he does not know how to play, but quite convincingly pretends. When we came down from the roof, people we didn’t know followed him like he was the Pied Piper. It was surreal. People tried to high-five him, but he just kept going.
8. I rose at 6pm.
9. The sky today is the colour of desert wine, and it reminds me of Black Saturday’s sky.

EIGHT THINGS THAT HAPPENED IN 2009:
1. When 2009 first happened, we were watching the DaVinci Code on Phillip Island with Danny’s mum. Really big NYE.
2. Danny and I got our first proper place together in St Kilda. Then our second place together in Kew.
3. I started submitting things for publication. I have recently realised I’ll probably really need whatever help school can give me next year in this area.
4. I had 4 different jobs, even though I was unemployed for about 6 months. I am now at a job that I enjoy very very very much.
5. I started a blog. This one right here. Hello.
6. I did not see people as much as I could have. Sorry.
7. I applied for, and got into, RMIT.
8. Danny is going back to school. This year, we will be incredibly cool.

SEVEN THINGS I HAVE RECENTLY SEARCHED FOR ON GOOGLE:
1. Chuck Palahniuk
2. Dance of the Happy Shades Alice Munro
3. We found out that we’re only layers of skin hiding bones
4. Kitty Daisy and Lewis
5. Rowland S Howard
6. Shakespeare Botanical Gardens Melbourne 2009/10
7. Williams Syndrome

SIX THINGS NEAR ME:
1. Box camera, circa 1950
2. Clouds, which are making big rumbling sounds. The sky is orange now.
3. Packaging from Guitar Hero 5
4. Cold coffee which I keep trying to drink before realising it’s cold and a bit too bitter
5. Empty Coopers bottle
6. A note from my boss.

FIVE SONGS I HAVE LAST LISTENED TO:
1. Angus and Julia Stone – Wasted
2. Muscles – Ice Cream
3. Rise Against – Kotov Syndrome
4. Brand New – Sowing Season (Yeah)
5. LCD Soundsystem – New York I Love Yo

FOUR RESOLUTIONS I SHOULD PROBABLY MAKE FOR 2010:
…but won’t, because it’s a bit lame to wait for the year to change before deciding to do or change something:
1. Lose some weight, be more active! One gym session a week isn’t enough.
2. Stop making excuses and see people
3. Read, until I can read no more. I do this anyway, but it’s good to continue.
4. Speak more, say more.

THREE THINGS I SHOULD DO TOMORROW:
(note: the orange sky is now flashing. There’s lightning through the clouds, and it feels almost as if I’m on Mars in some crazy cosmic-storm)
1. Go to the gym
2. Pack my bag for our trip to Echuca/Daylesford!
3. Work 6-9.

TWO THINGS MY MOUTH TASTES LIKE:
1. Plastic… Can’t figure that out.
2. Cold bitter coffee

ONE THING I SHOULD PROBABLY APOLOGISE AND THANK YOU FOR:
1. Reading this pointlessly long list of lists. Thanks. Happy New Year! Stay safe and happy.

4

Merry Christmas to all…

Hello dear Reader…

It’s Christmas tomorrow… No doubt this evening everyone’s busy wrapping last-minute gifts, or getting table settings ready for tomorrow, or organizing whatever they can before the big day comes.

During all the chaos, I want to just take a quiet second with you, oh Reader. We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in Australia, nor do I think we should. Busy times this year, however, have made me think about how lucky I am, and what I have to be thankful for.

Last week I went for dinner with my Dad and step-mum, as I won’t be seeing them for Christmas. They gave me a bottle of my favourite wine, and three Jane Austen novels from the Borders Hardback Classics collection… I’m thankful that they cared enough to really think about what to give me, and that they’re close enough and made time to sit down and dine with myself and my partner.

Danny, my boyfriend, got me Guitar Hero for Christmas. When I got home tonight, he got me a beer and came and sat and talked to me for a bit. When I came home last night, the dishes were done. I’m thankful for the little things that add up to what makes our relationship work, and for the time he spends really listening to what I say.

Today I gave up my day off at the last minute to work a very long sales assistant day, standing on my feet, asking “do you have Flybuys?” and telling everyone to have a fantastic Christmas… While it sounds like a pretty average day, I laughed a lot, almost too much for a workplace, and I worked really hard. I’ve only been at this place for about two weeks, but I’m so thankful for a job where all they ask of me is that I work hard. I’m thankful that I work with people who don’t stress about small things. I’m thankful to have finally found another job I don’t dread going to.

On my lunch break, I sat and had a coffee and read some of Inside Out (Robert Adamson’s autobiography – quite fantastic). I’m thankful to have enough money now to buy myself coffee if I feel like/need one, and I’m thankful that I have such a tight relationship with words.

Tomorrow we spend the day with Danny’s family. They accept me entirely, we eat fantastic food, our niece soaks up all the love she’s surrounded by before ultimately throwing a tantrum, and we just chill out. I’m thankful for such a great extended family, for being fortunate enough to afford the food we have, for the smiles our niece gives us, and for the ability to just kick back with good people.

This month more people read my blog than have in previous months. I’m thankful that you’re reading this, and that my blog is an important part of me getting to where I ultimately want to be.

There’s much more I’m thankful for, but I won’t keep you any longer.

Merry Christmas to you, be kind to yourself, family, and go easy on the rest of society at this busy time.

Sam.

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SANTA!

Last week, while I was eating lunch at a cafe, I thought I saw John Marsden. I couldn’t stop looking at him, trying to figure out if it was him or not.

Since my mind was in “famous-person” mode, when a portly white-bearded older gentleman sat down nearby, my mind screamed “SANTA!”

My logic then kicked in and said “no, no Santa,” directing my attention back to Mr Marsden. He scowled at me, looking generally unapproachable, while Santa smiled and winked and looked particularly jolly.

This isn’t right!, I thought. But there’s no denying it – while my John Marsden was questionable, my Santa was definately real!

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Floored by the Genius of 16 Year-Olds

Yesterday I went back to my old high school for a day to run a poetry-writing workshop. I did this with quite some hesitation, as I find the idea of “teaching poetry” really problematic, and my high school always seemed to breed a particularly feral kind of 16 year-old.

As soon as I walked into the classroom, kids started screaming questions about who I am, and did my piercings hurt, and am I a qualified teacher, or just some girl?

I was backed up by an ex-teacher and still close friend, so when the kids were told to settle down, we got to discussing poetry and writing some.

Discussions were mixed – some kids had some really good insight and ideas about the poems we looked at. Others really struggled with the idea of wordplay (multiple meanings of words, subtle punch lines, metaphors).

What really got me though, was the absolute loveliness that came from some of these young writers. A small group of boys were really keen to share what they thought the writers intended, and also to share their own writing with the class. Two quiet young ladies sat up the back and wrote really sweet poems about each other and their friendship – they produced the innocent highlight of my day. Working on the use of metaphor and similies, they wrote about how each was a great friend to the other. “Casey is a great friend who is always there for me,” wrote one, “just like my iPod.” In response, her friend described her as “a balloon you want to hold forever”.

One young man broke my heart, writing so honestly about his mother who is struggling with bipolar. I saw so much of myself in him, and while what he wrote missed the mark of the activities we were working on, I think it’s much more important for him to know that his writing is a valid way of expressing and sharing what he’s going through.

Overall, these kids had some really interesting ways of seeing the world, and produced writing stronger than a lot of the stuff I’ve seen from university students.

While my skills as a teacher (and crowd-controller) certainly need some work, I feel like those who were willing to engage in the work really took something away from this workshop. Thus, I feel like I did something good.

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Please understand, this visit was not my idea.

Dear Delicate Progeny of Wonthaggi Secondary College,

Tomorrow we meet for a workshop on poetry writing. I hope you believe I know what I’m talking about, and understand that the unleashing of the artistic mashed potato inside of me was the idea of the English department, and not myself.

Having said this – I hope you appreciate the fact that I went to pains to show you brilliant things written by ’emerging’ young people, and I hope I do not confuse and scare you away from writing poetry forever more. I hope I can manage to make words more exciting than you thought they were, and I hope you take away at least one tiny thing that helps you look at your poetry differently. If I can manage that, it was worth it.

Regards,

Sam.

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Word Play

I’ve been reading a bit lately about word play, and how important it is for kids. The many ways they (we) do it are fascinating.

I didn’t often play with words myself. I was a very careful child, I tiptoed around words until they were absolutely mastered. No word would leave my mouth until I’d thoroughly chewed on it and felt confident it would come out perfectly. My mum wondered if I was behind the other kids who uttered such adorable things as “pasghetti” and “amberlance” – I remember going to the doctor when I was about 5 for a regular check-up – I remember being at the doctor a lot as I was such a small kid. During this particular check-up they were talking about a heap of developmental stuff and he asked me to draw a person for him. I did, and he told my mum I was in front of the other kids my age, because I drew people with necks, which other 5 year olds apparently did not… So Mum felt better about my development, and I continued only spitting out fully-cooked words like “spaghetti” and “ambulance”.

One word I do remember playing with, though, is my Opa’s name.

I remember crawling under a bench in the shed – my grandparents were market farmers, and they had enormous sheds that smelled of earth and carrots.

I made a little song out of Opa’s name, crouched under the bench as he washed carrots. As I got splashed with water, I sang – “Opaaaa-ha-haaaa-ha-ha!” I sang it with such joy, letting out my gleeful little “ha-ha-ha!”s. Opa must have loved it, because he still asks me now if I remember singing his name, and he still remembers the tune I made up for it.

Next week I’m running a poetry workshop for year 9’s at my old high school. What I wish we could all keep, if only for the sake of poetry and writing, is the ability to play with words. To have fun and just let out our own joyous song, even when it’s nonsense.

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