Sarah Lotz and Exhibit A

When I was at the Cape Town Book Fair I got in the queue to have my copy of Exhibit A signed. As I've mentioned before I am a) an author stalker and b) addicted to signed books. Since I write detective books myself I am always keen to read locally written mysteries, so was excited to get me grubby hands on Exhibit A.

So I'm in the queue and I get to the front and a lovely young woman is sitting at the table. (Shocked to hear she is 38, I thought she was in her 20's until I read the review today!) I put my book down and she asks how to spell my name. So I start-"L-A-U-R-I" She puts the pen down and looks up at me. "Are you Lauri Kubuitsile?" I said, "Yes" because I actually am.

Then she went on with some quite nice words and my head blew up to the size of a large watermelon. The picture you see here is my signed copy of the book which inside says-" Amazing to meet such a talented writer". How about that?? Hope she goes on to win the Nobel Prize or something and I can sell it on eBay for millions.

(No, I'd never do that)

So why am I telling you all of this? Am I trying to let you see the power of me in case you've somehow missed it? NO! I want to start this post off by telling you- in my eyes- Sarah Lotz will not be able to do wrong. Everything I write will be biased at a 95.4 degree angle. She'd have to go on a murderous killing spree or strangle kittens before I'd be able to write a single negative word about her. Know this before you proceed. You've been warned.

I have not started her book yet, though it has moved to Pile A on my table. Those who follow this blog know that I have been involved in a long, drawn out, sumptuous, read-a-thon with Middlesex. I couldn't bear to finish it. I idled. Re-read. Accidentally purposefully let my bookmark fall out and then stuck it in further back than I actually was. It had to happen, I knew it would- the end arrived. After the event, I took a few days to live with the fact that indeed Middlesex was finished. A new chapter of my life would have to begin.

Then I started in on the Cape Town books. Since my writing partner oozed about The Rowing Lesson, I started there. In retrospect I should have thought a bit about what to read post-Middlesex, but I didn't. You can't go from the wild, reckless expanse of Middlesex to the tight, swirling words of The Rowing Lesson. Something will have to give.

I nearly threw The Rowing Lesson to the side in frustration for it not being Middlesex, but I have persevered and am actually beginning to like it, might even find myself loving it by the end; we'll see. When I'm through I will be on to Exhibit A which I will love. (Refer to third paragraph)

This post, in fact, is about a lovely quote in a review of Exhibit A in the Weekender. Ms Lotz talks about writing. She says-

“ I get so fed up of hearing writers say ‘writing is such hard work, oh the pain’. I say shut up — writing is a dream, it’s amazing”

I liked this (as you probably expected I would) but... really... I do like this. It is dead tiring to hear writers talk about how hard it all is. The torture of it. The blank page. The absent muse. They must use pharmaceuticals and ample amounts of alcohol just to write one bloody sentence. Ao! feel pity for them folks.

I agree with Lotz- SHUT UP! Is there anything more lovely than being god? Everyday I get to sit down and create worlds and all sorts of interesting people. I put the people in my worlds and make them do things and then I see what happens. God in a nutshell.

It's a bit like what we did as kids with Barbie's Dream House. We had Barbie and GI Joe and two spare weebles from the weeble set under our bed and one Mr Potato Head with a moustache but one eye missing. And then we put them together and we had long drawn out dramas and sometimes people would get killed (usually Mr Potato Head- I never liked that black felt moustache - dastardly is the word that comes to mind) and some would fall in love ( always a champion of the underdog, I liked a weeble to be the object of Barbie's adoration). We were in control.

Writing is like that. Writing is lovely. As soon as I leave my stories and move to the real world disappointment descends. I no longer control the woman behind the glass at the post office. (If I did she might very well choke on a chicken bone at lunch today- shame) That's where the disappointment lies. That is where the frustration can be found. Not in the writing. Never in the writing. That's the land of joy.

The Race for Michael Jackson Books

When I learned of Michael Jackson's death, one of the first things I said was someone is going to make a killing with a book deal, and so it seems that is the case. According to Times Online, the King of Pop was not dead 24 hours before British publishers and writers had mounted the horse and were off on a race to see who would get their book on the shelves first. HarperCollins will have their book out this Friday, Michael Jackson- Legend, Hero, Icon: A Tribute to the King of Pop. The nonfiction publisher for HarperCollins said in the article that the author of the book, Jame Aldis, was given 48 hours to write 10,000 words which she declares is the “the tightest schedule in the history of our company”.

This may seem lightening speed, but the Chinese leave the British in the dust. They put out their tribute to Jacko, Moonwalk in Paradise, in a mere 9 days. It took 48 hours to write in one marathon sit down. According to The Guardian, 'Jiang Xiaoyu and Xing Han subsisted on a diet of coffee and cigarettes to produce the 130,000-word' book.

Things I Took 18 Years to Learn

This last weekend my husband and I celebrated 18 years of marriage. I've learned a few things in that time and I thought I might share them, maybe I'll help some of you out there in blogland so you don't have to take so long to learn lessons I wish I knew at the start.

1. Marriage is an ongoing process.
The whole world portrays marriage as an event. Even that we celebrate an anniversary makes it appear as if it happened, it's done, you're in it. But it didn't happen, it is happening. At this point in the process I think (I'm not sure about this) the end goal is to see how close you can get to another human being. How much will you let him in? How far will he let you in? How vulnerable will you let yourself get? How much trust do you have for each other?

2. The First Years are the Worst
Since marriage is a process, the first years you are the furthest you will ever be from your partner if you are both making an effort. This is why I think people shouldn't be allowed to divorce in the first five years. In my marriage, those were 'the throwing years': the throwing of plates, and cups, and glasses and even the throwing of people out of cars (not moving- thankfully). I was left roadside more than once. The funny thing is that in movies and books, those are supposed to be the honeymoon years. Maybe they are for others, not for me. I was the seriously square peg that wasn't that keen on being stuck into the very obstinate round hole.

3. I'm NOT Always Right
That seems sort of a no brainer, but in my heart I never quite accepted it, though I could mouth the words if pushed to. I think I've made that jump- finally- sometimes my husband is right. This is a new development. Believe me- it took time to get to this one and it really does help with a whole lot of things if you can get there in less than 18 years.

4. There are no lines drawn in the sand
Before you get married and maybe even in the first years, you say things like- If my husband doesn't help with household chores I'm out of there. Or Even serious ones like -I'd never be able to forgive him if he cheated on me. Those lines need to be wiped away. You will draw them if you need to when you get there, don't do it in advance, you haven't a clue what you'll be thinking when the time comes. One thing you learn along the way is that everybody is human- not just you. Of course I knew I was human, I knew I make mistakes, but I expected my husband to be a robot, hopefully one in which I had the remote. Husband's are not robots, they are fallible humans. Give them a few breaks. Forgiveness is a huge gift- to him and to you.

5. Respect is as Important as Love
You need to respect each other. You need to respect each other's time, each other's wishes, each other's dreams. Along with that respect comes support. If he wants to climb Mt Kilimanjaro, ask him if you can pack his backpack for him. I'm starting to think that respect is the other side of the love coin.

6. You must make an effort
Marriage is a slog. You need to decide, are you up for it? A good marriage doesn't happen, a good marriage is created every single day. And sadly, a good marriage can be destroyed pretty fast if people decide not to put in the effort anymore.

I think my husband and I are doing okay, I'd give us about 80%. We've gone through a scary patch of suddenly being childless with the Giant Teenagers all off to boarding school, but we are finding a way through. Considering that I came from a home of divorce and dysfunction, I'm quite impressed with myself. I'm learning. If you have anything you'd like to add to help me speed up my process a bit, I'd be thankful.

Red, White, and Blue: the Colours of Racism

So many people in Botswana think America is wonderful. I recently had a discussion with a friend of mine about why I would never live in the United States again. She just could not understand. For her it seems the land of endless possibilities, where your mind is free, and your path unhindered. I struggled to make her see that my life growing up in the United States was the opposite- I felt trapped and strangled, defined by the status quo that I was not part of. In Botswana is where I found my true freedom. Only here was I able to throw off the heavy blanket of my past and define a new life outlined in the hot sand, its borders and shape created in the present with only me as its designer. Freedom, freedom, freedom -I drink it in everyday with thanks.

We grew up very poor for much of my childhood. We were the family that churches brought food to on Thanksgiving and Christmas. They smiled happy at their charitable ways and I hid wishing they'd be anywhere else but at my doorstep advertising to the world what I was. Poor and American are two things you do not want put together. In America being poor is a crime. Who didn't work hard enough? Someone is to blame. The American Dream is a terrible weapon to be beaten with.

Then when I got married, people asked why not go and live in America where all of the opportunities are? I looked at my black husband and thought of our future brown children and I knew I wouldn't be able to live with what America would have on offer for them. I'd lived through the wrath of not being right; it would break my heart to watch those I loved most in the world have to walk a similar path.

The recent incident in Philadelphia proved to me once again that even though a mixed race man stands as the leader of the United States, racism is alive and well in that country. Being right in America means being white and being wealthy, anything else is an annoyance, a tax eater, a crime maker- something they'd rather not discuss and best keep it in the cupboard away from the party makers. No one likes a buzz-kill.

In her article in The Nation, Melissa Harris-Lacewell relates an incident of racism that her child had to withstand and as I read it I could hear the sound of the bullet I dodged whizzing by my ear, the bullet my children dodged.

For my daughter the moment came in kindergarten. Even though she was the only African American girl in her classroom, she made friends easily, adored her teacher, and was growing in confidence as a student. Then in May, just a few weeks from the year's end it happened. She and a little white boy were playing together at recess as they had done all year when he looked at her and said, "You know, I would like you better if you would take off your brown skin and put on some white skin."


I know Botswana is not perfect, but perhaps that's the very thing that offers me the freedom I've longed for. Botswana is not perfect and it makes no claims to be, it doesn't expect perfection. It's terrible living in a dream world where everyone keeps blaming you for not taking part, for not getting a piece of it, but every time you make an effort they pull it away. That's the America I know and it holds only a passing resemblance to the red, white, and blue fairy tale the PR machine keeps pumping out.

Unity Dow to Officiate at this Year's Bessie Head Awards

On the 19th of July, 2009, former High Court Justice and author Unity Dow will be awarding the prizes for this year’s Bessie Head Literary Awards. The ceremony will take place at The Little Theatre at the National Museum starting from 2:30 pm. Admission is free. Ms Dow will also read from some of Bessie Head’s writing, so it will indeed be an event not to miss. Authors and poets wishing to do readings will also be given an opportunity to do so.

The Bessie Head Heritage Trust has announced the winners for this year’s awards and they are:

For Novel:
1st Place: Ms. Cheryl Selase Ntumy for her manuscript Crossing.
2nd Place: Ms. Kagiso Madibana for The Way It Goes
3rd Place: Mr. Monametsi Paul for The Reunion

The winner will receive a cash prize of P2,500.00; the runners-up will receive a set of books donated by Exclusive Books and by Pentagon Publishers.

For Short Story:
1st Place: Ms. Gothataone Moeng for a story entitled “Putting on Faces”
2nd Place: Ms. Wanja Njuguna for her story “Forbidden Love”
3rd Place: Mr. Galefele Maokeng for “The Easter Trail”

The prize for the short story winner is P1,500.00, and again the runners-up will each receive a set of books.

For Poetry:
1st Place: Ms. Luda Sekga for “He Was My Oppressor”
2nd Place: Mr. Goabilwe Mogapi for the poem “Memoirs of a Child Soldier”
3rd Place: Ms. Masego Morima for her poem “The Man Who Walks”

The poetry prize is P1,000.00, with a set of books to go to the runners-up.

The bulk of the winners are women this year as Gasebalwe Seretse pointed out in his article in this week's Mmegi Monitor. The Bessie Head Literature Awards are sponsored by Pentagon Publishers and run by the Bessie Head Heritage Trust.

CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL OF THE WINNERS!!!

How TV Writing Helps My Novel Writing

My writing partner and I recently finished our second 13 part television drama series. The first one was written for PSI Botswana and focuses on issues around HIV/AIDS, while the second one is the second series of a very popular local show called Re Bina Mmogo. In both, large groups of people had input in everything we wrote. In the PSI drama, we had the PSI staff but also the umbrella body for HIV/AIDS organisations which were funding the project. With Re Bina Mmogo we did not write the first series, so had to interact extensively with those scripts and their writer as well as the two companies that are producing and directing the series.

Of course in addition to that, writing collaboratively with my partner adds another dimension. The point I'm trying to make is that television writing is a team effort. Everyone from the writers at the beginning until the actor at the end will have input in the final words that are spoken and the final images that are seen. The end product is a result of every one's vision.

In some ways this is frustrating. When you have a clear idea of what you want, it is hard to see that tampered with. But at the same time, sometimes that collaboration brings out something much better than what you originally had in mind, it opens your eyes to new ways to approach the material.

In novel writing, you are the god, except of course for that editor buzzing in your ear a bit further down the line, but for the most part it is the work of one person. This can be good but it also has its downside. Before I wrote for television, it was very difficult for me to accept changes to my work.

There is an interesting discussion on the blog Three Guys One Book about television writing versus novel writing, in particular the literary novel. One of the guys, Jason Chambers has this to say:

Let's talk about TV and TV writing some more, because I think there is a completely different dynamic to novel writing, in that it is much more intensely collaborative, in contrast to the more solitary novel writer. On a writing staff, you might have the experience of 4 or 6 or however many very good writers bouncing ideas off each other, one-upping each other, improving each scene. Take a musical perspective, Lennon's ok, McCartney's ok, but together they are great, because they have someone to say - that's crap Paul, start over, or try it this way. And don't let Yoko sing, John, please. A few people are Dylan, but even those need an editor


This group way of working improves the product but also taught this writer to not be so precious with what she writes, to accept that there are other ways of doing things and of seeing things. This was an important step for me. I think it has allowed me to improve my novel writing.

Another important thing I have learned while writing for television has been how to create and maintain tension and drama, how to leave viewers hanging for a minute or two (or longer sometimes) so as to up the anty a bit. This carries over well to novel writing. In the end, they both are ways to use words to entertain people.

I'm happy I've had a chance to write for television. Though I often shout and scream at the collaborative process, I know in the majority of cases it makes the scripts better and in the end improves all of my writing.

Gadaffi's AU a Waste of Time for Botswana

In a press conference shown on BTV, Vice President Mompati Merafhe and Minister of Foreign Affairs Phandu Skelemani could barely hide their annoyance at the manner in which the just ended African Union (AU) Summit in Libya was held. The new chairperson, Colonel Muammar Gadaffi seems to be intent on running the AU just as he runs his country- by decree and order, something that didn't go down well with the Botswana contingent.

International media has covered the decision, apparently made by the entire summit, that African countries would not abide by the International Criminal Court (ICC) decision to arrest Sudan President Oma Al-Bashir. Vice President Merafhe said that this decision was misleading as it did not represent a decision that came about from a democratic process. According to him, Gadaffi brought the decision to the meeting and announced that a conclusion had been made. No debate on the issue was allowed. Both Botswana and Chad opposed the decision publicly and, according to Merafhe, other countries agreed with them though they only voiced their opinion in private. Merafhe wondered how Botswana, and many other African countries, can be signatories to the documents that created the ICC and then at the same time undermine their work. Botswana has said publicly that if the Sudanese President comes to the country they will arrest him and hand him over to the ICC.

At the same time, Merfahe would not be drawn into a discussion regarding an agreement the Botswana government entered into with the former US President George W Bush in which Botswana agreed that should American citizens be taken to the ICC, Botswana would not participate in their arrest. BTV reporter, Christopher Inyanga, asked the Vice President if this agreement was still in force with the new American administration, but the VP ignored the question.

Skelemani's disgust at how the meeting was held could not be disguised when he related how documents were brought to the general meeting that the chair said were documents made by the Executive Council, of which Skelemani was part. He was surprised to see that the documents put before the general meeting were not the ones that they had submitted. Members voiced their concerns about this. Skelemani told the local press that, "We were given wrong documents despite our complaints and we couldn't debate systematically. It is for your own judgment if this is the kind of Africa you want."

When asked if Botswana is considering pulling out of the undemocratic AU, the Vice President said that that wasn't an option. He still believed talking over issues wherever they can is the best way to solve the continent's problems.

There is No User's Manual for Writing Talent

I saw Nthikeng Mohlele, the author of The Scent of Bliss, at a panel discussion at the Cape Town Book Fair. The topic of the discussion was the personal vs the political in our writing. Mr. Mohlele shared the stage with Zubeida Jaffer and Sindiwe Magona, two powerful women, sandwiching the young author and I felt afraid for him. My fear soared when Mme Magona went on to describe black men as public enemy number one and then Mike Nicol turned to the fresh-faced Mohlele asking him to speak on behalf of his species. What a terrible burden for a writer! It seemed unfair; I wished he would refuse to speak, thinking any word at all was going to add fuel to the roaring inferno started by the perennial fire starter, Mme Magona. But he spoke, and his words didn't- add fuel to the fire that is. They were calm and sensible and intelligent and I fell quickly in line behind him as a fan.

So today as I fume at the third day of cloudy, cold weather and huddle around the fire hoping my out-of-socket back will get back in socket and my adopted country will behave as it should- meaning pull out the hot, sun and push these blasted clouds away- I was so pleased to find an essay by Mr. Mohlele in the latest issue of the excellent South African literary journal, Words Etc. (Please everyone- an appeal- subscribe to this journal so it can live a long and healthy life. )

In the essay, Mohlele discusses the awful topic of how writers write, where inspiration comes from. Those types of questions are similar to asking non-writers the correct way to fall in love or to raise a child. Books are written about such things, but in the main they are little more than one person's path, one person's way, and there are as many ways as there are people, so when it all levels out it's mostly an exercise in futility. But nevertheless the questions continue to be asked.

"How does a writer write?" Mohlele asks. "Is the process stuff for music videos, or can it be easily captured in steps one to ten, like tractor maintenance manuals- how to knit donkey-coloured cheap jerseys? When does the writer know - if the creative engines are fired up ready to go...?" Mohlele admits inspiration is a tricky and flighty bedfellow. A lot of a writer's time is spent waiting for it to return and suffering with the doubt that it may not.

The waiting for inspiration is often misdiagnosed by those around us as idleness. The writer must suffer from all sides; family members trying to fill up the 'wasteful' hours and the stubborn muse who refuses to come out from around the corner and play. "The writer has no defence against the abuse of inspiration- how it tells lies; drags him through smoke screens, whips him in public squares. He has no choice but to abide by the rules of engagement....Inspiration is a lying cheat, is drunk with self importance, and does not apologise for its tacky behaviour. It's stingy while at the same time generous, comes in a trillion disguises: a baby's laughter, a call from a drunken friend, lightening bolt thundering into a swimming pool."

But Mohlele realises he has no answers, none of us do. He says, "God, we are conditioned to believe, gives talents, but the awarding ceremony, at birth, does not include a user manual." For me, I think that's the most exciting part about this writing gig- no user manual- each and every one of us is basically winging it. I think that's the fun , at least for me, finding my way through. What do you think? Can someone be taught to be a good writer or is it a path we all walk alone?

Contests I Didn't Win

When I was in Cape Town I kept meeting people, other writers, and they'd say- "Oh you're Lauri Kubuitsile- you win everything!". So as a service to truth, I would like to admit that I am a writing contest whore. I will enter almost any contest that requires words on paper. Because of this, it may appear as if I win quite a few contests, when in actual fact I lose an extraordinarily large amount too, but like most writers I usually never admit it. But today I want to come clean.

I recently lost three contests in a row, and though my ego is horribly bruised, I'm secretly happy. I have a three bad things rule. Once I've had three bad things happen, I always get quite a good run of lovely things. It makes for an odd life because when something bad happens to me I very quickly start searching for two more bad things so I can be set free again. I have a contest that I entered that I really, really, really want to get something in so I'm hoping I lost these three contests so I might get some good luck with that one. (I know-strange screwed up pseudo-science which my husband, who believes science is an interesting theory, would be very proud of)

So what are my three losses? Here they are in all of their glory:

1. Binnacle Flash Fiction Contest
I read about this contest on Tania Hershman's blog and she spoke about the lovely way they publish the stories on cards and I so wanted to get those cards, but sadly I got position 114. No one wants a position that has more than one digit, but the organisers thought I might like to know I was 114. The only good thing was that there were more than 115 entries so at least that's something. But I still don't get the cards.

2. BBC Radio Play Contest
Nothing again. The shortlist was announced and though I read it through word by word, four times- my name is not on it. Oh well. I liked my entry. I had adapted a short story of mine that is quite scary called And Then There Was One. Perhaps I'll find a use for it elsewhere.

3. Bessie Head Literature Awards-Poetry
Yes- I entered a poem (please refer to first paragraph of this post). I won the short story category last year, so I really should not be greedy, and I'm not really a poet, though perhaps I'd like to be. I'm happy though that a writer I truly love, who I think one day, if she is serious, may become one of the best writers coming out of Botswana has won the short story contest, so that's very nice.

I have a quotation posted next to my table where I write and it says-"You're only willing to succeed to the same degree you're willing to fail"- this is why I always try to fail spectacularly.

Know Your Market

I made it back from Lephalale with no scars so that's good, but an interesting thing happened that reminded me of the importance of knowing your target market.

I'm not altruistic, but I am very superstitious; I'm a big believer in karma. Because of this I almost always give money to beggars when they ask for it. I have a few exceptions, mostly children, which might seem strange but often parents send their children out to beg when they could be in school so if they are successful they will continue to send them out to beg. I feel it's important for them to not be successful. I know there are exceptions to this, but I work better with rules when it comes to making decisions such as this.

So, we were in the parking lot of one of Lephalale's malls and I was just getting in the car when I saw a white man approaching me. I knew he was a beggar and prepared to get money out of my handbag. Then he did an unfortunate thing; he began to talk.

He starts by saying that he has problems keeping jobs because he has a very low tolerance for laziness. When he's hired as a supervisor (apparently that is the only job he can get) he can't deal with the blacks who like to take two hour lunches since they're so lazy so he always gets fired.

Now this was a perfect case of him not knowing his market. He assumed that since I was white, I was in his tribe- his tribe of whiny, white people who want to blame all of their woes on the lazy blacks who are now in control of things. He thought by laying his problems at the feet of the blacks who are busy messing up beautiful South Africa for all the good, hard-working whiteys, I, being of his tribe, would pop out some money. He seriously miscalculated his target market.

I pulled my hand out of my handbag - empty- and told him I wouldn't be giving him any money that day, or any other for that matter, since I didn't much care for racism of any hue. I got in the car leaving him in the middle of the parking lot ranting about how he wasn't racist. I few passing people took time to look at me and look at him and listen to the conversation.

Now if this white beggar was clever, he might have engaged some of the passer-bys in a short conversation about what ensued. Quickly he would have got their position and then he could refine his spiel and likely come out ahead - not only a victim of black empowerment, but now publicly ridiculed by some white, communist sympathiser from over the border. He may very well have made out better in the long run.

So our lesson today, students? Knowing your market and targeting your pitch makes all the difference when it comes to success.