Second book

Having a book published was a dream I’d had since I was a kid. For years, I tried to write a novel. I’d stopped and started countless first drafts for various stories - contemporary, fantasy, horror, dystopian fiction. I’d once written 50000 words of a dystopian fiction novel called ‘The Cage’. It was after I’d reached the 50k word mark I realised I was writing a story that was too big for me to tell right now, and worse, I was beginning to think I’d written the story from the wrong character’s perspective!

It took years for me to build the skills and the stamina to write my first book. I assumed I could do it all again with ease when it came to writing the second. I did it once, I could do it again, right? Well, yes, but I came to learn that it’s not that simple. Each story is different, and in July, my second novel was published - WE DIDN’T THINK IT THROUGH.

In 2018, I began facilitating an Aboriginal program at a juvenile justice centre in western Sydney, as part of my role at an Aboriginal organisation. I would go in each Tuesday afternoon and bring in cultural educators, Indigenous youth services and elders, with the aim to teach things to the boys detained there, help them reconnect with their cultural identities and learn about the support they can access when they get released. My favourite part of this job was spending time with the boys, getting to know them, hearing their stories and offering advice. I was stuck in a wrestle between the limitations of my role and this internal need to be the person who helps everyone. It took me a long time to realise I’m just one person doing one job, and I could only help where I could, but it was a frustration I’d never known before. I was a young Aboriginal man in a position to potentially help other young Aboriginal men who had landed in difficult positions, but there was only so much I could actually do outside of the worrying. There were a couple boys I had worked with individually, one for the period of three years. As I worked with them, I was still writing and this character began forming in my mind, who would later become Jamie. I didn’t really know until after I’d finished the book that this was how I could help - I could write a fictional story about the resilience I saw in those boys, a story inspired by theirs and a story that gave those boys a voice - a story that might shine a light on the overrepresentation of Aboriginal youth in juvenile detention and the lack of meaningful support available to them. I realised a long time ago that I am no activist. But writing is my activism. Writing is how I say the things I want to say.

The drafting process for my first book was pretty breezy. I could see the whole story in a series of scenes in my head. It felt like the words were right there at some cliff behind my ears, falling into darkness and I had to write them all down before they disappeared. Within a few months, I’d had the whole structure, the character arcs and the plot points down in a pretty decent way.

When it came time to sit down and start on my second book, I thought it would be the same, that over the course of a first draft it would all come together, that it would only take a couple months to write. I’d let Jamie grow in my head. I’d laid in bed at night, thinking over how his story would become instead of falling asleep. I knew him pretty well, and I had just signed a contract for my first book. I was feeling this overwhelming sense of achievement. I had actually arrived at my dreams, and now it was time to jump higher.

I started writing a first draft for WE DIDNT THINK IT THROUGH in 2019, which was called ‘Joyride’ at the time. The first 20k words flowed well, but then these new doubts started to step into my life: This isn’t as good as my first book… I don’t know where this is going… I can’t write a whole book again.

After a few months of writing, I took a break to edit ‘The Boy from the Mish’, then returned to the manuscript. I finished a 75k word first draft, and unfortunately, I didn’t love it. I landed a residency at the Varuna Writer’s House in Katoomba, which I was due to take in June of 2020 while I was in the drafting stage. This residency was delayed due to covid until November 2020, which turned out to be a real blessing in disguise. During my week there, I learned a lot about the story I thought I was writing, and found a new wind in my second novel. I discovered that I needed to focus more on the family relationships Jamie has and a new thread grew within the story - a story about reconnecting with family. Over the next months, I rewrote the ending chapters, then went back to the middle and rewrote the rest. There was still a lot of work to do, but I had found joy in writing this story again, and for a time, I was able to keep those doubts out of my head.

The edits for this book were tough. I struggled to come up with a title for the longest time, and I probably went through three or four potential titles before I landed on the final one. This edit was harder than my first novel because I was dealing with many big issues and trying to tell a story that kept the character’s journey central, while also saying what I wanted to say. The edit was longer as well, and when I received an email from my publisher that I would need to complete another structural revision, I felt kind of hopeless. I wasn’t sure what more I could do. I thought I’d done it - that the story was good enough. But there were all these issues that weren’t working yet, and I could only see those issues after taking a break from the manuscript. Jamie’s characterization was inconsistent. Some characters weren’t fleshed out as well as they could be. And the middle section of this story was enormous and slow and filled with too many characters who only show up for a scene or two. There was a point during the edit where I thought I was not a good enough writer to get this book in the shape it needed to be, where I thought I wouldn’t be able to realise the vision I saw in my mind. I thought I might be a one-book wonder.

Surely, it shouldn’t be this hard if I was a good writer.

I got back to work with some expert guidance and suggestions from my publisher and editor, and it was a real team effort to get this book in shape. Ultimately, I am very pleased with what the final draft became. I love Jamie, the way his story unfolds, the infusion of poetry and balanced way I was able to say what I wanted to say without being too loud.

As I approached the release date, it was already apparent that my first book, The Boy from the Mish, had exceeded all my expectations. It had sold very well, been shortlisted for numerous awards (even winning a couple), and had sold international rights, audio rights and film/tv rights. As the release date approached for We Didn’t Think It Through, new doubting thoughts began to intrude again.

It’s not gonna do as well as Boy from the Mish.

No one’s going to read it. No one cares.

No one’s going to like it.

It’s not an explicitly queer story, so I am going to lose all my readers.

The doubts didn’t leave until I launched We Didn’t Think It Through in Sydney on the 6th of July 2023. I was able to present my book to the world, surrounded by friends and even my dad, who had made the trip up from Bega. As I read a small passage from the book, I felt something about this book that I hadn’t felt in a long time: this is actually pretty good. I’m proud of the work I did.

It was bittersweet, knowing how hard me and my publisher and editor worked to get this book to where it is, knowing how much worry and fear I had for my talents as a writer and the success of the book. But it is a book. A second book. I am a person who has had multiple books published, and that’s something I am extremely proud of.

The post-release depression hit hard. I knew it was coming, because it came after the release of my first book, but it was still a difficult road to travel. The basis of this depression is coming down from the high that release-week brings, when everyone wants to talk to you, everyone is saying they want to read it, social media notifications are popping off because everyone is excited and hyping your work. After a couple weeks, it’s the complete opposite. It’s part of the job and something I’ll try to be better prepared for next time (but maybe post-release depression deserves it’s own blog!).

I realise now that I can’t compare my current project to previous ones. Each story is different. Each editing experience is different. That’s how it is. I’m hoping when the time comes for my third book I will be more resilient, more confident, and not so caught up on how it will compare to my previous novels. Each new thing is a new thing. And in the end, I get to do what I always dreamed of doing. I get to write stories. I love writing stories. Writing is fun for me. Writing doesn’t feel like work. It’s not a burden. It’s an inherent part of who I am. Whether people read my stories, or like them as much as the last one, or like them more, that shouldn’t matter to me. Each time I write, I am writing something real, I am creating a character and creating a world. Each time it is new and fresh and I can’t dwell on what came before.

We Didn’t Think It Through is out in the world. It belongs to the world now, and it is time for me to move onto the next thing.

Berlin

I was super lucky to be invited to Berlin for a week to attend the ilb (international literature festival of Berlin) in September 2023. I was to do two events - 2 panel discussions about The Boy from the Mish and 2 school visits.

I had never been overseas before. I’d never been outside the eastern half of Australia before! It was all very exciting. I had a 9:30pm flight out Sydney. I was in the window seat (not that I could really see anything in the night time anyway) and I had a young child sitting beside me with her father, so I had to make sure the movies I watched didn’t have anything naughty in them. The four hour stopover in Doha was also really exciting. I didn’t really do anything, just had some food and listened to music via my AirPods, and I was extremely tired, but it was still very exciting. It took roughly 25 hours to get to Berlin. The thing that surprised me most about the lengthy journey was how dirty I felt when I arrived at my destination. The way my feet felt in my shoes, never leaving them between when I left my house in Sydney to arriving at my hotel in Berlin, was the worst.

I was very lucky to have an amazing assistant during my time at the festival, who helped me learn so much about Berlin and politics and the education systems. I was one of only a couple writers flown in from Australia, and I thoroughly enjoyed my two festival sessions. Speaking to a full auditorium of German secondary students, I could hear some whispers in the crowd during my events. I thought to myself that they must be translating for their friends beside them, so maybe I should speak a little slower and more clearly. Everyone I came across in Berlin spoke English, but it was really cool to sit in a restaurant or at a bar and hear German conversations taking place around you.

After my events at the festival, I would sign copies of The Boy from the Mish that were available to purchase for students. Students asked me questions as I signed for them - questions about being a writer, questions about being queer, questions about being Aboriginal. I was really amazed by how curious everyone was to learn more about Aboriginal people and culture, and how interested they seemed in what I had to say.

I’m very lucky in the fact that I have a few international friends. One of my Swedish friends made the trip from Sweden to visit me for two days. It was the first time we’d seen each other in 8 years, but it felt like no time had passed at all. We caught up on eight years of life updates over beer and dinner. On my last day in Berlin, we walked for 8 hours straight all over Berlin exploring. I clocked over 36000 steps in one day, and my legs certainly felt like it! We got to see Checkpoint Charlie, the Berlin cathedral, the east side gallery, the Brandeburg Gate and so many other parts of Berlin in those eight hours.

I found Berlin to be a very neat city. I loved the culture of cycling and it felt like a real convenience rather than a nuisance as it does in Sydney. I loved how fast the trains took off and moved from station to station. I loved how the excitement and thrill of the trip pretty much cancelled out any jet lag or tiredness that wouldn’t really hit me until the week following my return to Sydney.

I honestly didn’t have any burning desire to travel overseas before Berlin, but now I want to go everywhere.

Mostly, this trip inspired me to write more. The trip made me want to experience the feelings of excitement and fear meshed together again - the feeing of success that comes with being invited overseas to talk about your book at an international festival. I have fuel to continue writing, to produce more books, all with the hope that they might be good enough to land me this humbling experience again.

I picture myself - a 17 year old closeted Aboriginal boy growing up in a small country town, who had dreams of being a real writer one day but was also so filled with fear and self-hatred that he wasn’t sure he’d make it to a point in life where that was possible. If only he could have known that one day he would be on a stage in Berlin, talking to German secondary students about a book he wrote.

WE DIDN'T THINK IT THROUGH

I started writing this story in late 2019, a few weeks after receiving my publishing deal for The Boy from the Mish. For months, I had this character in my head who was a combination of Aboriginal boys I had worked with in youth justice centres. His name was Jamie and it was like he was hanging around my apartment trying to get me to notice him and hear his story. I know that sounds so cliche and even a bit pretentious, but it really felt like that.

Filled with momentum and joy from my publishing deal, I finally sat down at my desk and got to know Jamie. It all started with a crime of opportunity - the image of three Aboriginal boys in a stolen car, being chased by cops along a dark, dirt road in the black of night…

I have much more to say about this story and this character, but for now, I’ll leave you with my publisher’s blurb below!

WE DIDN’T THINK IT THROUGH is out in July 2023, and you can pre-order the book now!

From the author of the award-winning The Boy from the Mish, comes a compelling coming-of-age YA novel about sixteen-year-old Jamie Langton finding his future and navigating the challenges of racism, family and friendship in a small Australian town.

The thought comes to me: This is how I die. Dally is going to lose control and crash us into a pole or a house and we will be killed on impact.

The justice system characterises Jamie Langton as a 'danger to society', but he's just an Aboriginal kid, trying to find his way through adolescence.

Jamie lives in Dalton's Bay with Aunty Dawn and Uncle Bobby. He spends his downtime hanging out with his mates, Dally and Lenny. Mark Cassidy and his white mates - the Footy Heads - take every opportunity they can to bully Jamie and his friends. On Lenny's last night in town before moving to Sydney, after another episode of racist harassment, Jamie, Dally and Lenny decide to retaliate by vandalising Mark Cassidy's car. And when they discover the keys are in the ignition… Dally changes the plan. Soon they are all in Mark Cassidy's stolen car cruising through town, aiming to take it for a quick spin, then dump it.

But it's a bad plan. And as a consequence, Jamie ends up in the youth justice system where he must find a way to mend his relationships with himself, his friends, his family and his future.

2023 Writing Goals & reflecting on 2022

2022 was a bit of a weird year for me. Promotion and events for THE BOY FROM THE MISH/READY WHEN YOU ARE didn’t really slow down. I found myself speaking about my book in places like Byron Bay, Albury, Melbourne and Moranbah. I’ve been thinking about my writing goals for the year and before I can set them, I’ve spent some time reflecting on my goals for 2022.

photo by Angi High Photography

Here were my 2022 writing goals:

1. Promote ‘Ready When You Are’ in March.

I was lucky enough to do a few virtual events to promote Ready When You Are in the U.S, the highlight for me was an in-conversation with fellow YA author, Vitor Martins.

2.       Complete edits/revisions on book 2.

Revisions were completed and I am in the process of copyedits right now. My second young adult novel now has a title: WE DIDN’T THINK IT THROUGH.

3.       Finish middle-grade fantasy.

I finished it and it was shit. It was a great exercise for me though, as through writing it, I once again found the joy in writing. I was able to remind myself how fun writing can be through writing this shitty manuscript. Maybe I’ll come back to it one day…

4.       Blog more.

I blogged more than I did in 2021, but only by a post or two. I do want blog posts to be a part of my life, but I find myself wondering if I actually have anything interesting to say in a blog. Maybe 2023 will bring some inspiration.

MY WRITING GOALS FOR 2023

1. Complete edits and Promote WE DIDN’T THINK IT THROUGH

My second young adult novel, WE DIDN’T THINK IT THROUGH, is due to come out mid-2023. I’ve still got a few events for THE BOY FROM THE MISH coming up in the early parts of the year, so I’m hoping to get those out of the way and head into promoting book 2. WE DIDN’T THINK IT THROUGH is a very different story and requires a very different approach to speaking engagements. The conversations around the book will touch on some similar topics, but for the most part, WE DIDN’T THINK IT THROUGH will be a different approach all together. I am still figuring out how to speak about it, so my goal is to be ready for those conversations, and to be more prepared than I was for my debut. I will aim to do a launch in my hometown again, and will try for a launch event in Sydney.

2. Draft a new young adult manuscript

Okay, I may have already done this. I started a manuscript just before Christmas and finished a first draft in late January. It’s messy and long, but there is something there I’m really excited about. My goal with this manuscript is to complete revisions and get it into good enough shape to send to my publisher. I’ll aim to do this in the next few months.

3. Draft a new middle grade manuscript

I have this idea for a limited series of middle grade horror stories, each story not connected to the others but within a wider series, kind of like Goosebumps. Okay, to be honest, Goosebumps is the inspiration for this. I loved those scary stories when I was a kid and I truly believe they are the reason I fell in love with books and reading. I’d love to do that for another kid who might only be intrigued into reading by a scary story with Aboriginal characters defeating monsters and evil. I’ve got an idea I’m sitting on for the moment, an idea I actually came up with when I was nine years old. My goal is to get that idea into a middle grade manuscript draft this year.

4. Blog more!

I only managed three posts in 2022. I hope to blog more this year, but I don’t know that I will. I guess I’m not sure exactly what to blog about. We shall see!

Dear Kylie

This piece was written for and performed at QUEERSTORIES in June 2021, thanks to Maeve Marsden. If you’d like to listen to the recording, here is a link:

293 Gary Lonesborough - Love Letter to Kylie - Maeve Marsden

Dear Kylie: A love letter to Kylie Minogue

I was once asked if I ever hid my love for Kylie Minogue when I was growing up, as to avoid suspicion or speculation about my sexuality. In truth, I hid and avoided suspicion and speculation at every opportunity. I made sure I didn’t look at my male friends too long or in an admiring way. I joined in on the girl talk and I kissed and told, to make sure people knew I was kissing girls. I made sure the clothes I bought and wore didn’t make me look gay. I made sure not to speak in that cliched, flamboyant way.

BUT I was never ashamed of my love for Kylie. Loving Kylie was the only avenue I really had to express my sexuality, even if it was in a secretive and masked way. Kylie really helped closeted, teen Gary, and this is my love letter to Kylie Minogue.

Dear Kylie,

Firstly, I love you, but not in that weird, creepy, mega-fan, stalky way. And I do hope that if you read this letter, you never ever talk to me about it because I would absolutely die if you did.

Every morning Facebook reminds me of my memories for that day each year, all the way back to when I created my Facebook account in 2009. And each morning, I spend at least ten minutes deleting those statuses, such as ‘Walking the streets of Bega by myself at midnight because I’m a ruthless bastard’, ‘like for a TBH’ and ‘Just saw Mr. Black coming out of Dan Murphy’s with 8 cases of James Boag’.

While I do spend time deleting my memories from Facebook each day, in March, Facebook reminded me that it was a particularly important two-year anniversary for me – the anniversary of when I went to my first Kylie Minogue concert in March 2019. You might not know this, Kylie, but while I’m a writer these days, I’m also a part-time unpaid Kylie Minogue promoter, and I’ve been converting people to your music for years, including the friend who enthusiastically came with me to see your concert in 2019.

I was so nervous that day. Like, proper nervous. I wasn’t even going to meet you or anything, but still, I couldn’t eat. Me and my friend got a drink before the concert, which helped settle my nerves, but as we walked the steps of the ICC in Darling Harbour I had this terrible feeling in my stomach like something bad was going to happen. I was sure there would be some reason the concert wouldn’t go ahead. In my worst fears, you had eaten some bad fish and chips at lunch that day, you were battling bad diarrhea backstage and would need to cancel.

Luckily, nothing went wrong. We walked into the massive theatre and found our seats. The preshow was flawless, then the time came for the lights to dim. There was a really beautiful backdrop to the stage, which was a sun rising over a desert landscape. Then, Kylie, you walked through the door and onto the stage and as the show began, tears came to my eyes.

From your walk onto the stage, to the laser-show that accompanied your performance of ‘Lost without you’, to me and my friend standing and dancing to ‘Better the devil you know’, two years on I still rank that night as one of the best nights of my life. Because, Kylie, when you walked onto the stage and the tears came to my eyes, I wasn’t the twenty-four year old Aboriginal man sitting in a theatre. I was once again the little nine year old Gary who asked his Dad to buy him Kylie’s Ultimate Kylie compilation album. I was the little Gary who studied the lyrics and learned every word to every song on that compilation album. I was the teen Gary who when he had his first night home alone, took off his pants and undies, still keeping on his shirt, and listened to your Aphrodite album from start to finish on the highest volume while dancing and singing the whole time.

Again, I’m not a weird, creepy, stalky mega-fan, but I’m constantly reminded of you through my Facebook memories, because even though I was really secretive and closeted about my queerness, I was an out and loud Kylie fan/promoter who posted about you regularly.

One of the first things people learned about me when they met me was that I was a Kylie fan. I knew that you were sort of seen as a gay icon or whatever, but I didn’t feel like people were associating me with that, even though I didn’t know any other straight Kylie fans or any Aboriginal Kylie fans.

And I always thought that I didn’t love you because I was queer – I loved you because of your music, your persona, your performances, the light that beams from your heart in every interview you give, the way you express yourself, the costumes, the hot pants, the way I thought you were hypnotizing me when I first listened to your song, ‘Confide in me’.

Kylie, I remember after seeing you in concert, I said to my friend who came with me that I could have died happily right then, that I was completely fulfilled. Because when I experienced that concert, as I became little Gary with the albums and the naked dancing again, I also became the teen Gary didn’t know how to deal with the fact that he was gay. I became the teen Gary who hated that he wasn’t straight, that he wasn’t normal in the way he considered normal to be. I was the teen Gary who was sad most nights, who went to bed feeling uncertain and scared about his future. And as I sat there at your concert, listening to you belting out ‘The Loco-motion’, I remembered what teen Gary did on most of those nights when he was feeling sad and uncertain and scared: he listened to your songs – the music of Kylie Minogue.

I didn’t know it at the time, but your music helped me through my teen years. When I listened to your music, I was connecting with something inside, something that made me feel like myself – my real self. When I sang along and when I danced naked, I was connecting with you on some spiritual level, and therefore, connecting to myself. I realise that your music really did help me stay true to who I was inside as I grew older.

So, as I said at the start, I love you, Kylie. I love you because without even knowing, you saved my life. It was your music that showed me I would find the light one day. It guided me through my struggle to accept my queerness and to accept who I am. It was your music that I listened to when I was suffering. It was your songs I listened to when I needed to cry, when I needed to smile, when I needed to sing and when I needed to dance. Thank you for holding my hand until I was ready to walk by myself.

To finish, here’s a quote from the chorus of ‘Kiss me once’, which really reflects how you helped me, and gave me strength when I was a teen:

‘Me and you, baby we made it through’.

Love,

Gary

READY WHEN YOU ARE

This will just be a short blog, but I just needed to say something…

READY WHEN YOU ARE was released in the U.S on March 1st! READY WHEN YOU ARE was published as THE BOY FROM THE MISH in Australia. How do I feel? It’s really hard to find the words to describe how I feel knowing I have a book published overseas. I feel thrilled. I feel overwhelmed. Mostly, I feel awe.

The other day, I was caught in a moment when I looked away from my monitor and down to the box of published hardcovers. I felt this tremendous sense of accomplishment. I was this Aboriginal kid growing up in Bega, playing footy, getting adults to buy me alcohol and getting drunk with my mates most weekends, burying my emerging gayness away and avoiding having to deal with it. And now, less than 10 years later, I’ve written a young adult novel which has now been published in Australia and internationally - a book about a closeted gay Aboriginal teen who lives in a rural village and feels and struggles with all the things I felt and struggles with when I was his age.

I approached the editing process with editor David Levithan with excitement. Luckily, we didn’t make any major story changes. Apart from the title, nothing significant was changed and David really understood the story I was trying to tell. There were a few word changes and Americanisation’s, but the spirit of the story remains the same.

I’m so excited my little story is now finding a whole new group of readers and I hope they fall in love with Jackson and Tomas like so many readers have here in Australia.

To my American readers, happy reading and I sincerely hope you enjoy my book! For now, I am finalising revisions on my second novel and will provide some more updates on that soon. I aim to blog again before the end of the month, but until then, why not head to your local bookstore and pick up a copy of READY WHEN YOU ARE or THE BOY FROM THE MISH!
Gary

2022 WRITING GOALS

My goodness. I planned to blog regularly throughout 2021 and I only managed to publish one post for the whole year!

As I sat down to think about my writing goals for 2022, I began to wonder why I only wrote one blog post last year, and I think the answer is: way too much happened last year!

THE BOY FROM THE MISH was published in February. I had so many events and commitments in those first few months that blogging quickly became the last thing on my mind. It’s pretty amazing to think that my life changed so much, yet so little at the same time. I was on this amazing high for months, then by the end of June, the second NSW lockdown happened and I was stuck inside my apartment, with a 5km travel limit. I was unemployed and multitude of commitments were cancelled. My savings were drying up and I landed back on Centrelink. I found myself falling into this dark hopelessness.

I’d done Sydney Writer’s Festival, Brisbane Writer’s Festival, Headland Writer’s Festival and One Book One Community in my hometown of Bega, where in February, I also launched my book with a large group of family friends, and community members. And suddenly, I was stuck in my suburb and my apartment. The only people I interacted with during this time were my housemates. All my planned events were cancelled, and the worst thing of all, my creative well was all dried up. I fell into a deep writer’s block and I couldn’t write more than a few sentences at a time. I began work on three projects and only one of them was decent (and I plan on finishing it this year!).

I was struggling to come up with even slightly creative ideas and I was beginning to feel like a one-book-wonder. Maybe I only had one book in me. Maybe TBFTM was my peak. I was depressed and I knew it.

Like so many of us, I struggled hard during that second half of 2021, but I also came to the end of the year with a great burst of creativity, a great new job and, corniest of all, love. Looking back, I realise all that struggle was contained to three months, but it felt like years while living it.

I choose now to look at 2021 as a great year. I published my debut young adult novel and it exceeded any expectation I had in the bookstores. I achieved my dream I’d had since I was a child. Reflecting on 2021 came with this thought: What the hell do I do now? I’ve already achieved my dream.

I’ve realised now that you have to create a new dream, a new goal, once you’ve achieved one. I remember hearing somewhere once that you need to keep chasing, and when you’ve caught that thing, you need to create something new to chase. I have a feeling it was Matthew McConaughey who said that, or something similar, but it feels really true to me now as I set my writing goals for 2022.

1.       Promote ‘Ready When You Are’ in March.

TBFTM is being published in the U.S by Scholastic as ‘Ready When You Are’, in early March. I have a couple of events and interviews booked in already – the first being an in-conversation with none other than my own American publisher, author David Levithan. I honestly can’t wait to embrace the early mornings when I’ll need to be alert and in enthusiastic-energetic-excited-author mode. I’m so excited for Jackson’s story to reach American readers.

2.       Complete edits/revisions on book 2.

I’m thrilled to be publishing another young adult book with Allen & Unwin in 2023. I’m double-thrilled to be working with the same editor I worked with on my first book. I haven’t made an official announcement yet as the book only has a working title at the moment, but for now, I can say it’s another young adult story with an Aboriginal teen at its centre. It sounds so cliché to say, but this character walked into my life one day and told me to write his story. I resisted for a while, but he came in at a time when I was feeling very passionate and angry about a lot of things, and  writing his story really helped me understand how I felt about those things. It helped me understand what I wanted to say. I’m currently working on my revision, in the early stages of editing. I’m so excited to how this story is shaping and really can’t wait for it to get out in the world!

3.       Finish middle-grade fantasy.

I started work on a middle-grade fantasy in early 2021 and I was so excited by the story and having so much fun writing it until the Sydney Lockdown happened in June/July 2021. The story centres around a group of four Aboriginal kids and their stumbling into another world. I’ve come back to it a few times, added a few hundred words here and a few hundred words there, but the momentum has stopped for me for now. I am very excited by this story though. Normally, I would give up on a project when I find myself in this situation, but this story is so fun and adventurous and scary and personal at times, that I need to finish it once I’ve completed my revisions for my YA book. Whether it finds a home or not, I owe it to myself to finish the story that made me feel like I was a child experiencing the magic of writing for the first time all over again.

I might be stretching my ability a bit here, but I started writing another young adult manuscript just before I began revisions on my 2nd book. It’s only 5000 words at the moment, but it’s different and fun and I’m feeling very confident about the story. I don’t usually know how much I care about a project until I get to the 20000 word mark, so time will tell. That being said, I did write a 50000 word manuscript and then one day, say to myself, “this is shit”. It’s left unfinished and shitty in my laptop.

4.       Blog more.

I want to blog at least once a month. This is my January post. If I can at least get one in for February, I’ll have doubled my 2021 stats!

Here's to 2022.

Gary

photo by Angi High Photography

MY LAST TWO WEEKS!!!

Welcome to my first blog of 2021! As you might know, THE BOY FROM THE MISH was released into the world in February, so stay tuned for a blog about the rollercoaster that was release day/week/month!

My last two weeks have been hectic and overwhelming but at the same time, have left me feeling an enormous sense of gratitude.

with author Jeremy Lachlan at Parramatta Riverside Theatre

Over the first weekend of May, I was lucky enough to be involved in five events for Sydney Writer’s Festival, and this weekend just past, I flew to Brisbane to take part in the Brisbane Writer’s Festival’s Love YA day.

My Sydney Writer’s Festival experience began with the first of three Secondary School Days sessions, alongside MC and author Jeremy Lachlan, and other amazing authors such as Garth Nix, Leanne Hall, Michael Pryor and Zana Fraillon. What surprised me most about these sessions was just how engaged the students were during these sessions and the intelligence of the questions they asked. My highlight of the festival came from one of these School Days sessions (but more on that later!) and I had so much fun speaking to the students in three amazing theatres across Sydney.

With author Michael Pryor at The Concourse, Chatswood.

I was also thrilled to be able to share a stage with Benjamin Law at SWF, in a session where we discussed my book and the hard work that went into writing THE BOY FROM THE MISH.

As you might know, Benjamin provided an amazing quote for the front cover of the book and I was absolutely thrilled he was happy to do the event with me to a sold out crowd.

With Benjamin Law at Sydney Writer’s Festival.

Another major thrill for me was sharing the stage with a line-up of amazing YA authors for the SWF YA Gala, MC’d by author Will Kostakis. The idea for the session was that we would each share a story with the audience around characters we would protect at all costs. The character I spoke about was Holden Caulfield from THE CATCHER IN THE RYE. Luckily, I was the first to speak so I was able to sit back and enjoy the rest of the session with the audience.

Two of my favourite moments from that night were Jenna Guillaume taking us back to our childhood trauma by reading the death scene of Artax in THE NEVERENDING STORY and Michael Pryor’s hilarious story about an encounter with a ninja, which almost killed me!

At the SWF YA Gala with authors Garth Nix, Will Kostakis, Leanne Hall, Zana Fraillon, Michael Pryor & Jenna Guillaume.

The absolute highlight for me from Sydney Writer’s Festival came during the first Secondary School Days session I did. When it came to question time, heaps of students lined up at the microphones. I know Jeremy felt the same, that these kids were asking amazing questions - intelligent questions - and really engaged in our session. Then one student, before asking their question, thanked me and Jeremy for writing books with queer characters and the theatre erupted into applause. That moment absolutely warmed my heart and reminds me why I write young adult fiction, why I chose to write THE BOY FROM THE MISH in the first place. I write for those teens who need to read books like mine and I’m so pleased those readers are finding the book. Representation and diversity is so important in books, especially young adult books. Everyone deserves to see themselves reflected in the pages.

At Brisbane Writer’s Festival with authors Rhiannon Wilde, Frances Chapman, Anna Whately and Sophie Gonzales.

My last two weeks ended with a trip to Brisbane for Brisbane Writer’s Festival. It was the first time I’d been on a plane since before Covid and it was interesting being greeted by what seemed like the whole Brisbane police force at Brisbane airport.

It was a short and sweet trip, but it was awesome to be a part of an amazing panel of YA authors to talk about love in YA books. The session was hosted by Rhiannon Wilde, whose debut YA novel, HENRY HAMLET’S HEART, comes out in July 2021! It was a really fun conversation to be a part of, and you can find a link to the session in my media and interviews page.

I’ve absolutely enjoyed these last two weeks of my life and look forward to many more experiences like these ones! I’m definitely feeling an enormous sense of gratitude to be in the position I’m in, where I’m able to share my book with so many people. I must give a quick shoutout to Yvette Gilfillan, Anna McFarlane and Deb Savage from Allen & Unwin for making me feel so comfortable and supported during these festivals.

As for now, I’ll have a short break, then a trip south for the inaugural Headland Writer’s Festival, where I’ll be in-conversation with my mate and fellow author, Gabbie Stroud.

Gary

THREE THINGS I LEARNED AT VARUNA

23rd-30th November 2020: The best week of my writing life.

I packed my bags and made the hour-and-a-bit drive from Western Sydney to Katoomba in the Blue Mountains to take my residency at Varuna, the National Writer’s House. I’d won the Copyright Agency First Nations Fellowship shortly after landing my first book deal in what was a string of good fortune. Of course, then the bushfires happened and Covid happened and the residency was pushed back to November 2020. Somehow, this worked out positively for me in the end – I had more time to work on my next Young Adult manuscript and I was also able to get all the editing for ‘The Boy from the Mish’ out of the way, so when the time arrived, I could focus solely on the next project.

During my seven days, six nights at Varuna, I felt like I really matured as a writer – particularly as an Aboriginal writer. Here are three things I learnt during my time at Varuna:

1.       Writing is more than writing

 One of the great things about Varuna is that you have your own private space to write for the whole day until dinner time. I used to think that writing meant actually writing the words – putting words and sentences and paragraphs together – but at Varuna, I found that writing is more than that. Writing is also thinking, planning, surrounding yourself with nature, listening to the birds and the trees and watching the clouds as they roll over you. Writing is taking a walk and finding inspiration in the beauty of the world. Writing is the time you spend letting the ideas come to you, thinking them over and trying to make sense of the story that is forming in your mind. Writing is reading the works of others to find inspiration. Writing is getting to know your protagonist better – learning things about them and making notes. Writing is speaking to other writers about writing.

2.       Varuna is real magic

Arriving at Varuna on the Monday, I was late for the opening of the new accessible studio (which I stayed in). There were a whole pack of people in suits and dresses, who I figured were important in some way, but I was more keen to meet my fellow writers (who had gone to their rooms to unpack). When the visitors finally left, I only got half an hour of unpacking and settling in before meet-and-greet drinks with the other writers. I didn’t sleep well at all the first few nights, which I put down to sleeping in a new bed in a new place.

On Tuesday morning, I conquered Katoomba’s hill from hell when I went to the shops for a walk. There were moments when I considers using my hands as well as my legs to climb the steep hill and I was still catching my breath by the time I had filled my shopping basket.

I got a little bit of writing done over Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, but on Thursday night, we had a reading session after dinner. I count myself lucky to be able to listen to some really exciting writing and I shared the new opening scene from my next YA project. There was something about that session that really stirred the magic of Varuna. I got a good night’s sleep, woke up at 6:30am on Friday morning and was immediately in the zone. In my undies, I made my morning coffee and got to work. I got 2000 words down before I had breakfast at 9:00am, and the momentum only continued through the day and over the weekend. I really got to know my next protagonist and found the spirit of my next novel during my stay at Varuna. And I know that during that writing blitz, it really felt like magic. I finished with around 10000 words for my stay at Varuna and have since finished the next draft of my work-in-progress.

3.       The power of sharing a meal

While I’m so pleased with the amount of words I wrote and the progress I made on my novel at Varuna, the most powerful thing I experienced at Varuna was being able to share time with my fellow writers which included sharing dinner every night. Each dinner was cooked and served by the magnificent, absolutely incredible Sheila, who I believe has been cooking meals for writers at Varuna for over 20 years! The things I cherish most about my stay at Varuna are those dinners and the conversations that came with them. Whether we were talking about writing or Indigenous issues, whether I was just listening to the conversations or taking part in them, they were truly powerful and intelligent, and I think those conversations will have more of a lasting impact on me than anything else.

When it was over, it took me about three days to accept that I had to come back to the real world, where I have a job and need to do laundry and shopping. At Varuna, I had a conversation with a fellow writer, who is also very new to the publishing world. We both felt like we didn’t belong there, like we didn’t deserve the fellowship we had won. But I know I can confidently call myself a writer. Writing is one of the things I do. I’m a writer and I didn’t truly feel like one until I experienced the magic of Varuna. The staff were so welcoming and the writers were so amazing to be around, I can hardly find the words to explain. The environment is build on support and encouragement and the sharing of ideas, and that’s where I think the magic comes from. I’ll be hoping to stay at Varuna again soon.

Gary