The title of this recording is "Queer Practice: a panel on writing". It is described as: A panel discussion celebrating the writing practice of four queer writers: Mia Farlane, Rose Lu, Chanelle Moriah and Sam Orchard. It was recorded in Good Books NZ, 2/16 Jessie Street, Te Aro, Wellington on the 16th September 2023. This is a recording of an event and features the voices of Chanelle Moriah, Mia Farlane, Rose Lu and Sam Orchard. Their names are spelt correctly, but may appear incorrectly spelt later in the document. The duration of the recording is 56 minutes, but this may not reflect the actual length of the event. A list of correctly spelt content keywords and tags can be found at the end of this document. A brief description of the recording is: A panel discussion celebrating the writing practice of four queer writers. Chaired by comic artist, author and archivist Sam Orchard, authors Mia Farlane, Rose Lu and Chanelle Moriah explore what, how and why they write. The event was organised by Samesame But Different - New Zealand's only LGBTQIA+ literary festival. A special thank you to the participants and organisers for allowing this event to be recorded and shared. The content in the recording covers the 2020s decade. A brief summary of the recording is: The panel discussion featured a vibrant exchange among four queer writers: Chanelle Moriah, Mia Farlane, Rose Lu, and Sam Orchard. Organised by Samesame But Different, New Zealand's sole LGBTQIA+ literary festival, the panel delved into the intricacies of queer writing practices. The event unfolded in a lively format, opening with introductions from each writer, who shared insights into their unique writing processes, challenges, and inspirations. Rose Lu, transitioning from software development to writing, discussed their process of internalizing ideas over months before committing to paper. Chanelle Moriah, an author and illustrator, highlighted the influence of their autism and ADHD on their writing style, which varies between meticulous planning and spontaneous creation. Mia Farlane reflected on the impact of other writers on their work and the role of their writing group in maintaining their writing discipline and receiving constructive feedback. The panelists also explored the evolution of their writing styles. For instance, Moriah returned to shorter paragraphs to accommodate their reading preferences, influenced by their neurodivergence. Farlane discussed their methodical process, shaped by influences like Violette Leduc, and the importance of acting as if their work would be published. The conversation also touched on the challenges of publishing, particularly the pressures of meeting audience expectations and the fear of producing subpar work. Sam Orchard, chairing the panel, steered the discussion towards overcoming writing blocks and the fear of expectations. Moriah emphasized working without pressure and trusting their process, even if it leads to discarding work. Farlane credited their writing community for providing emotional support and practical advice, underscoring the significance of sharing struggles and triumphs with peers. The event concluded with readings from the authors, offering the audience glimpses into their published works and current projects. This session not only illuminated the diverse approaches to writing within the queer community but also highlighted the universal challenges and joys of the creative process. The full transcription of the recording begins:  E hoa mā. Tēnā koutou. Tēnā koutou katoa. My name is Sam. I'm the chairperson of this panel. I get very nervous talking in front of large audiences. So excuse me if I feel a bit nervous. Welcome, everyone. Thank you so much for coming along. Welcome, panellists. Thank you also for coming along. We run these events as part of the same thing, but different festival, which is Aotearoa's Queer, Trans, LGBTQIA Writers and Readers Festival. We have our main festival as part of Auckland Pride in February. We also do these satellite events. And we really love doing these events in Wellington. A lot of our board members live down here. And so we're very excited for big turnouts. And also there's just an amazing queer writing community down here as well, so. Thank you. Um, we put on these events for free. We, as board members, work for free. Our wonderful paid staff member, Liam, who's hiding in the corner, does so, so much for us, including these amazing zines that he has put together for today, which are free and available at the front. At the end, maybe you could pick one up for free when you're purchasing the books of these wonderful writers and support, um, Good Books New Zealand, who have, who are hosting us today. Um, also you can head over to samesamesamedifferent. co. nz to have a look at the other festivals that we've put on. We try and record our sessions to make them available in the future. And we're also sponsored by incredible people, including Creative New Zealand. Um, but mostly, We're supported by the people who come along to these sessions, so thank you so much for coming along. So, our panel is about queer writing practice, and I thought to start off with, each of us can maybe introduce ourselves and talk about, a little bit about the writing that we do. Then we'll talk about how we write, what the barriers are, what gets out. Words on the page. Um, I have a lot of notes and a lot of questions. Um, then we do some readings from these wonderful writers and then the why we write. And then to end with, we'll have a Q and a and then we'll do some mix and mingle at the end. So it gives you a chance to talk to the writers as well as buy some books if you would like. So, um, yeah, shall we start with you, Rose? Introduce yourself, say whatever you want about the types of writing that you do. Kia ora everyone! Oh, sorry. It's really loud. It's really loud. Um, oh god, I feel like I've put on my sexy phone voice. Um, Kia ora, I'm Rose. I live in Wellington. Uh, holy shit. Yeah, I can't! Uh, yeah. Kia ora, I'm Rose. Uh, I live in Wellington. I, um, have got, I did the, uh, Creative Writing Masters at the International Institute of Modern Letters in 2018. And that was my entry path into the writing world because before that I was just doing like software development, which I'm still doing. Um, and so I wrote like most of my first book of essays during their MA year. Um, bar one essay, which I did after their MA year. Um, and that book, Or Who Live On Islands, came out in 2019, and I am currently working on a queer climbing novel. Hi. Um, yeah, I'm Chanel. I wrote I'm Autistic and This Is ADHD, which are also behind me. Um, and I illustrated them as well. I don't really know what I'm supposed to say. I've been in New Zealand since I was.. Nine? Question mark? Um, Yeah, I don't know. I'm autistic. I have ADHD. Um, I bring the chaos, so have fun. Thank you, um, Kia ora koutou katoa. I'm Mia. Um, and, uh, Farlene and, uh, I was born in Aotearoa, and I have lived most of my adult life, oh, of, um, Scottish, Danish, English, grandparents, and further back, Irish and French, and, um, I, uh, have spent most of my adult life in Europe, in the UK, and, uh, I, um, I, uh, I And a little bit in France, a few years with my partner, the writer Kristen Phillips, in red there, sitting next to my mother, Marilyn Duckworth, also a writer, so I'm surrounded, surrounded by writers, which is helpful. Um, and, uh, I'm a novelist, translator, and reviewer. I've, uh, had one, uh, my novel, Footnotes to Sex, is published by Viking Penguin Books UK. Um, it's, um, set in London and Paris. And, uh, I am a contributor, translator in No Love is Not Dead, um, an anthology of poetry from around the world. And that is about to be reprinted in paperback, which is great. It was here in hardback. Thank you for inviting me. I don't know whether I said that, but thank you. So we'll start with the good stuff about how. How do you get started on a new piece of writing? Okay, on a new piece of writing. Um, when, um, you ask that question, I think of, because I write novels, um, it would be a new scene. So I would think of a new scene. And what, what I need is just, usually a few words. Um, it could be some dialogue. And then it's like. Spinning, and it has to catch the bobbin. It is really like that. I've got something to get on and write. It kind of happens for two, in two ways. Depends if it's my autism or ADHD taken over. Um, if the autism, if the ADHD is kicking in, it's going, Oh, we're writing something right now, write and keep up, because it's writing happening right now. Um, so I just have to type as fast as I can. If it's the autism, I will have an idea and I'll go make a long, detailed plan. And then I'll follow the plan when the writing is happening right now, does that, can that happen at any moment? Yes. I wake up at 2 a. m. and my brain's like, Oh, I'm writing a story right now. You've got to hurry up and type it. Um, I need to think about stuff for a really long time. Um, so I think the writing starts internally in between everything else I'm doing for like literally months. And then when I'm. Ready to put stuff down on the page. It's the scene that you described. Yeah, but I think I often marinate on thoughts for a really long time. Yeah. In marinating, do you write little notes to yourself or do you just. Is it all in your head until it's not? Well, I'm really conflicted about notes because sometimes I'm like, oh, I know I'll forget this interesting thing that I just thought of But I also think if it's sufficiently interesting, I don't think I'll forget it entirely So like I treat my own brain as a filter of well, 90 percent of my thoughts are stupid and like the 10 percent can just like float to the top. So does anyone here have specific things, whether that's writing exercises or environmental factors, like I like to use a specific pen, um, or a desk or paper that are, that feel like really integral to your writing practices. Um, I've really been trying to be less precious about that sort of stuff because there's so little time if you work full time, you want to see your friends, you want to get enough exercise. I'm like, I can't be like, Oh, I can only, Right, at 27 degrees, and if my cup of tea, you know, like, it's just like, you just can't be that precious about that sort of stuff, so I've just really been trying to get into the habit of, like, Well, I've got this two hours, and I don't feel amazing, but I think I just need to use this two hours. Uh, so I keep an exercise book with me all the time, uh, generally, and not tonight, because.. Anyway, a piece of paper, otherwise a scrap of paper, or I write on my phone if I've got nothing to write on. Um, I write on the, on the laptop, but I can't take it anywhere at the moment because it doesn't work unless it's plugged in. But, um, I, uh, yeah, so I don't really have, um, I like to find a quiet place and a free place. It's generally so library or, um, the park and good weather, um, but generally at home otherwise. Um, I don't have a special pen. I did have one and I lost it. I cannot stand doing my illustrations or art or anything. If someone can see me doing it, I can't know. So I have to be by myself if I'm doing drawings. That's so interesting. Cause I used to draw in cafes all the time and I would get interrupted quite a lot and people would be like, draw me, draw me. Not, um, what happens if you get, wake up at the 2 a. m. and you don't take that time to, does the writing go after that? So with the ADHD, um, my brain likes to not hold onto things. So if I'm writing something in the middle of the night, If I don't write it down, it's, it's gone. That's it. Done. Um, but it does mean that I end up with a lot of really chaotic documents. So like, I'll have an idea, I'll write like a paragraph, I'll save it, and then I, I'll leave it. And then I'll be like, ooh, I need to write this piece, and I'll just go and find those documents with the little paragraphs. I'm like, ooh, I could use that one, and that one, we'll just put them together. We'll make a story out of it. I can see you nodding, nodding along to this. Oh, I can, I can 100 percent relate to that. I've got sort of a box of messy bits of paper, or just, and not even just in a box, it's sort of spread all, it's just everywhere, it's a, it's, it's a mess, um, yeah. My next question is, have you, and you've talked a little bit about this, but have you ever changed your approach to writing? You, you kind of insinuated that maybe doing the IIML changed your approach, or gave you some time? Um, well, I didn't write before the IML, um, which was, I like, I, yeah, I think I like, I didn't really write until I was like, Oh, I kind of want to do this creative writing program. I think I need to start writing to apply for it. Um, And like, I think you need to have time to do the writing, which again is, I think the key thing for me was, um, I couldn't start writing until I started reading. Um, and I stopped reading when I was about 16 because I was just drinking all the time. Um, yeah. Um, and then like, I think after like going through uni and all that and, um, now I enjoy having time to read. But I think that in the period of my life where I didn't read a lot, I like never really felt like writing. I don't think I answered your question at all, sorry. That was a good answer though. How about you two? Uh, I think something I used to naturally do that my teacher actually trained me out of, I've gone back to doing. So, um, with the ADHD and my poor story memory with autism and My other forms of neurodivergence, I really struggle to read really large, large paragraphs. I, I, the walls of text are super hard. I can't figure out where I'm up, I, up to, I lose place. Um, and at school, I would initially make really short paragraphs and my teacher would get annoyed and merge them. Um, And then, when I learned Autistic with ADHD, I realized, oh, I was actually doing it so that I could read it. So, um, when I released my autism book, one, a little bit of the feedback I got from ADHD ers was that they couldn't read it because of the watercolour in the background. Um, so when I did the ADHD one, I made a point of breaking up the text into smaller sections and using the colour to break it up further. Um, so that was one thing that changed it. Uh, thank you. So, I, uh, Early on in writing, I would, um, I was, um, helped by reading other writers that, um, Violette Leduc was so important to me, um, I, uh, could relate to her determination and her perseverance and, and, and, and the mortifications along the way. And that was so helpful to me because I had, I just, uh, yeah, I really appreciate her. She's a, well, you probably know, French 20th century writer of autobiographical. Novels who had a thing for Simone de Beauvoir and so that was helpful to me and helped me feel more Oddly confident or happy about not being confident rather and then doing an MA in middle at Middlesex University and that helped me to to act as if I Believed the writings ever going to get published and the last one is belonging to a writing group Which I still belong to I've been in a writing group for It's over 20 years and it helps me to, um, because I need to turn up with the writing and I know I'm going to read it out. So that was, has been helpful. How often do you meet with the writing group and what is the structure of that in case anyone else is thinking about setting up a writing group? I was asked to join the writing group when I went on a, I did a A course after work, and the tutor asked me do you want to join the group, and that's how it happened, and I've been going there ever since, um, and how it happens is that it's on Zoom at the moment, because it's London based, but a couple of us aren't in London at the moment, and we read out work, we each have a certain amount of time, and we give feedback, and we actually send the work in before, not always, it's more helpful if we do, but yeah. You've talked about, in the wonderful zine that you can read after this, um, About your love of unfiltered and raw writing. How do you go from that into work that gets published on the published page? Yeah. So I've always been a messy writer. I said that, um, I was, as a child writing, um, it was just a mess. I didn't, and it hasn't, that hasn't changed. Um, so to get that somewhere, um, where it could get published, um, there are three things, um, if I was going to summarize them, it's, um, shifting the work around so that it is in a place that makes some sense in, in the novel, um, cutting the dross. And, um, and adding, because I do a lot of dialogue and I need to add that. Um, also I'll do all of the ordinary things like checking the punctuation. And, um, that the, the spelling is consistent. And one very important thing is getting feedback. So, um, with my writing group. You all have books published. Has, um, having books out in the world. Just spoken, spoken about this a little bit, but has that affected how you've approached your next project in any other way? Um, I'm really stoked you've both have written more than one book because I feel like I'm experiencing the difficult second book like I Throughout the first 70, 000 words, um, which I think is, you know, a decision I back. Um, but I think that a big difference between the second and the first book is like, I was publishing the first book to a audience of zero, like no one knew who I was. I was just like, ah, I'm going to do this thing. Um, and now people are like. When's your book coming out? I really want to read it. And I'm like, oh, no, there are expectations where there were none So yeah, I think that's I I think in hindsight when I was, um on Residency last year that was something that I was really like having trouble with. Yeah One of the things that Renee had said in the previous panel was like just don't be afraid of chucking things out How does it feel to, to, to chuck out 70, 000 words? That's a lot of words. Yeah, some people I've told that too think I'm like an absolute psycho, but like, um, I feel so good about that decision cause I, I just knew it wasn't working. Um, and so I've started, like, I've just restarted with the same characters, which is, I felt like the only thing from the first part that worked. Um, and I've only written. Maybe like 10, 000 words at this point, but I already feel so much better about it. And even though, like, some people in this room have read some of those 70, 000 words that I threw out, um, like, I know it's not objectively awful, but I just wasn't happy about it. And I, I think that's kind of the first test. Like, you have to be your own first reader. And if you're not happy with it, then, yeah, I don't think other people.. So, I guess the major difference between my two books is that the first one was never intended to be published. I wrote it for myself. Um, and then it released, and I was getting messages from people going, Oh, can you do an ADHD one? Please do an ADHD ADHD one. Like, okay. So, yeah, the major difference was that the second one was written to be published. It was written for an audience, which was.. It's terrifying. Um, and I was so scared I was going to get it wrong, and like, you know, with the first one, I didn't care. It was like, well, it fits me. No one's going to buy it. Like, it doesn't matter if it's wrong, who cares? Um, yeah, so it's a little bit scary. With the, the way I write is often, um, it's a sort of method acting where, where I will get into character. That's very much how I write. And, and so that's the same with all of my writing, except when, uh, with my, um, Uh, novel that I was writing that, um, was about suicide and, um, suicide obsessed character. I needed to do a lot more, um, ongoing research, constant research, which I didn't. Do for the first one. It's sort of different. Um, but, um, so that was different. And, and my, the way I did it was to wander around with or as my character creating events, real events that, that, um, that I then fictionalized. And, and that's something that I did. I had a lot more time because that was in 2019. I was, um, on unpaid leave from, leave from the poetry library in London. With my partner here for family reasons, and I got a Creative New Zealand Arts grant. And that gave me more time to, to be with my character. And so then I had this idea I will wander around with, with her. Um, so that was a different writing method, or sort of more. With that change of writing method, did you feel like there's a preference for one or the other, or? Well, I suppose it's, it's quite similar. It's similar. It's just stronger. And I went out there very actively, you know, doing that. Um, I don't think I'd do it for another, I'm not doing that for the one I'm writing at the moment. Yeah. So a few of you have talked about terror, um, particularly of like expectations. What keeps you going when you do reach that kind of scared of what, what next? Place or what the expectations are. Um, I just really hate having a job. Like, I'm like, Oh, I have to like suffer under capitalism. I have to make like, you know, I have to make money to fund my life. And like, when I have time to write, it just feels so much better. And so like anytime I'm like. Just my job, I'm just like, oh my God, this feels horrible. Way more than people's expectations. Yeah, that's kind of what it is, and I'm just like, oh, it's actually so much nicer to write when it, when you come down to comparing it to like going to your job, that is deeply relatable. Um, I think for me, the nature of my books plays a huge part in it, so, Yeah, I was scared. I was scared to release the second book. Um, but I, I had had feedback on it because I wrote both books, getting input from both communities. Getting input from ADHDers is very hard, I must tell you that. Um, but I had a lot of positive feedback on it and I was.. It was just me being scared. And I had seen how much the first book had helped people, so I'm like, wait, it's too late, my publishers have paid me for it, nothing I can do now. Um, let's just let it happen. Yeah. Hmm. Uh, I don't know. I mean, with the suicide book, I didn't have any fear at all. I perhaps should have, because it's a subject that no one wants to read or talk about. Um, but I didn't worry about it because I was so interested in writing about this book. I was one of the, one of the books that I wrote with the least worry. I didn't care at all. I just needed to write this book. Um, I do care about how I've written it now. That's something else, but the actual writing, um, yeah. I think probably one of my fears that I discovered along the way. Um, I mask, so I copy people a lot. And, um, when I wrote the first book, we'd finished it, literally finished it. And I looked at it again, I was like, Shit, I've copied someone's writing in here. Um, I fixed it. Fixed it, it's fine. But like, I was so terrified that I'd copied people and that I'd get sued. So we've got things that block us include capitalism, fear of expectations, um, copyright violation. One of my things is that I've been writing this graphic novel Usually I write strip comics, which is like four to six panels. It's very easy. I just put it on the page and then put it out in the world. I don't care very much. This one is a full length thing and I've just gotten lost in it so many times in the middle of it that has just left me with this feeling of like, I'm never going to finish this thing. I need advice around this. What, what, what do you. Do you, do any of you have strategies around what to do when you're stuck in the middle of something and it feels murky and there's no end in sight? Um, I just don't put pressure on it to be honest. I work when my brain lets me work. Um, and I don't worry about it. And like, yeah, I want to get things finished. And usually, I'll do things in one go. I wrote an entire book in a weekend, right? I mean, the first book took me six weeks to write and illustrate. So like, I can get things done really fast. But if I do end up stuck, I'm just like, Okay, well if I come back to it, I'll come back to it. If I don't, I don't. Yeah, after my first novel, it was, um, very hard. I had the second novel syndrome, absolutely. But I'm, I'm not there at the moment. But I, um, I have writing friends, and that would be, for me, the one thing that I'm so grateful for and need. So we talk with each other, or email, actually it's usually email, and that, that kind of um, help of being, of knowing just a few people very well, so that you're not putting a front up, you're actually saying how you really feel, that is very helpful for me. What is it about the act of sharing that with other people that feels helpful? Yeah, we share our mortifications, I suppose. Um, we share our, um, ups and downs to put it vaguely, um, and, uh, and, and, and encourage each other. I mean, it's an encouragement, but also, um, oh, I'm, I'm sending this out. What about you? You know, that sort of thing. Um, on a very practical sense, like I guess I also felt like I was stuck in the middle of a project because I had 70, 000 words that I'd thrown out. So I already sort of knew lots about it, but I didn't know everything. Um, the writing exercise that I've put in that booklet was something that was shared to me by Nathan Joe, who is It was the creative director of Auckland Pride, um, when we were on residence together in D. C. four weeks ago. Um, anyways, it was the only writing exercise I'd ever come across that was around dealing with a work in progress, rather than starting a work, and that was.. So useful for me and I just never seen a writing exercise like that before and that personally for me really helped me unblock a lot of the things I was doing. Um, and they're like, um, process involves kind of like mapping out the structure of your story and just sort of like breaking into a different medium really helped me sort of think about where I wanted to go with the book. Um, and also like, I think I, I don't know about you guys, but I often just hate everything that I produce. And so I, and I think I had like put enough distance between the stuff I was sort of working on during that residency, um, and me reading it with fresh eyes. I was a bit like, oh, this is not that bad. And like, sometimes you read stuff and you're like, oh, this is fucking terrible and it got published. And I was like, well, you know, at least I know my work is like. at that standard, you know, and so it's kind of a bit of like, ah, you know, some of the stuff I read day to day, I'm like, ah, that was a bit average. Like, you know, my work only has to be marginally better. And I kind of hate it all the time anyway. So it's okay. I think that's what I do with, with my comics. I'm just like, I just put it out and I'll be mortified or I'll just be fine. It'll just be fine. Um, I think now we should, we should do some readings so that people can hear about the types of writing that you are all doing. Um, would anyone like to go first? Um, this is the start of the essay Cleaver from this book. The cleaver is a flash of stainless steel. The blade is rectangular, about 25 centimeters in length, and almost a centimeter thick at the spine. The tang runs the full length of the handle, which is a flattened cylinder of metal with the same brushed hue. Two grooves on the bottom edge of the handle blend seamlessly with its sides. The curves and lines of the cleaver have an ease to them, a fluidity, as if metal naturally flows into these shapes. Just looking at the heavy blade makes me quiver. It can part meat and bone with just one strike. My fingers twitch with an urge to take the handle and close my grip around its perfectly shaped bottom edge. It'll have a good heft to it. The blade is stamped with the logo of its manufacturer, Guangdong Yangjiang Special Steel. Using a cleaver is about force and momentum. My dad brings the cleaver upwards and lets it swing down under its own weight. Bang! A fish's head is severed from its body, jaw shuddering from the impact. My dad turns the cleaver, calling its flat surface into action. Smack! A thumb of ginger splatters open, spilling its aroma. My dad rocks the cleaver back and forth on the chopping board. Fwop, fwop, fwop. A spring onion stalk is slashed into four segments. My dad faces the blunt spine of the cleaver down. Thump, thump, thump. A cucumber is crushed, white seeds and clear fluid flowing out of its jagged surface. Using a cleaver requires precision. Tap a tap a tap a tap a tap. My dad finely dices cloves of garlic into pointed tips. Thump. Thump. Thump. The cleaver passes through a hunk of aromatic braised beef, slices falling cleanly and evenly, with a cupped hand at one end of the meat and the cleaver at the other. My dad runs the cleaver along the chopping board, scooping slices of meat onto its flat edge. There is a Chinese proverb that goes, tóu biān meaning, the best meat is next to the bone. Sweet and sour spare ribs, a dish originating from the Shanghai region, has always been a favourite in our family. The pork ribs need to be cut into one inch segments, perfect mouth sized morsels. My dad is well practiced with the cleaver. Bang, bang, bang! He lifts it to chest height and still the blows land exactly where he intends. Often, I'll see him sitting on the step outside the kitchen, holding the cleaver in one hand and a whetstone in the other. The whetstone is soaked in water for an hour before it is used. When it's ready, the matte stone has the same texture as the black sand shore at Kaiwi after a wave has receded. My dad passes the length of the cleaver along the whetstone in one steady stroke. The contact makes a soothing sound, like a branch dragged against concrete. He turns the cleaver over. The sharpened side catches the light. He draws the other side along the core stone, and the sun's reflection dances on its beveled edge. Um, because there's so many different topics in my book, I decided it would be a little bit awkward to try and pick some. So I'm going to read an article that I wrote as the publicity of, or part of the publicity of the ADHD book. If I saw life through your eyes for a day, what would I see? Stepping into someone else's reality can be like living in an entirely different world. Would you recognize life if you could switch places with me? 7. 30 a. m. My alarm demands my attention and my mind is quickly flooded with overwhelm and anxiety as I prepare myself for the day. Rubiffin works to get my brain in order. I dread getting changed as I dig through my closet to find the least painful garment to wear. I reluctantly brush my teeth and finally I pack my bag. One, headphones. Two, lanyard. Three, watch. Four, phone. Five, wallet. Six, keys. I count out loud, grab my bag and head out the door. It's raining today. Have you ever noticed the way the raindrops trickle down the leaves, magnifying each vein that makes up the venation pattern? Have you noticed the way the sun shines and the water glitters on the sweet smelling roses? Have you noticed the drumming of rushed footsteps as they seek shelter from the storm? The water splashing and spraying as cars roll through the puddles? The chatter of crowds while trying to speak over one another as they forced their way inside? The clicking of umbrellas as people shut them down? The slamming of doors in frantic attempts to avoid getting wet? The music in the distance that comes with city life? The humming of electricity running up the poles of dimly lit streetlights. Have you ever noticed all of these things at the same time while the water seeps into your socks and the cold breaks through the surface of your clothes? Have you ever noticed all of these things at the same time and felt frozen with overwhelm? To me, life is like a piece of music, but every aspect is a separate instrument that I experience individually rather than part of a whole. I imagine the bliss of being ignorant to the individual details of life as I see, hear, feel, and smell every little thing as its own separate piece fighting for my attention all at once. But everyone seems to manage, so I pull myself within and I display a carefully created shell of normality. 9am, it's time to work, but there's a piercing sound echoing through the office. It doesn't seem to bother anyone else, but it hurts my ears. It's not electricity this time. That has a different sound. I can't make it stop. It's as if all of my senses have been amplified in comparison to all of my peers. The touch of jeans on the back of my knees feel like thorns piercing my skin. The smell of perfume makes me feel as though I'm suffocating. I dislike the way some sentences vibrate as they roll off my tongue. I'm getting overwhelmed. It's not socially appropriate for me to search for the noise that others can barely hear. To be honest, society is blind to the plethora of social rules and communication expectations they require every day. While the world is screaming through all of my senses, I also sit monitoring every tiny aspect of my existence and being, every movement, every gesture, every tonal fluctuation, facial expression, sentence structure, and acknowledgment must be consciously and carefully chosen. I must monitor when and how I make eye contact. I must ensure that I'm reading between the lines, not taking things too literally. I must not be too fidgety. Be careful not to be too blunt. I must automatically know when someone is being sarcastic or making a joke, and I must not be too sensitive. I must be authentic and express myself. But not like that. I must ensure that the correct emotion is displayed on my face, and I must somehow monitor all of these things and manage the physical pain of the intense volume of my surroundings without ever showing any sign of overwhelm or distress. Why? Because this is my daily life. I must do all of these things while still somehow actually listening to the conversation and getting my work done. I must do all of these things and then bear the blame when miscommunications occur. I must do all of these things or be excluded and forced into isolation. Can you hear what I hear? Do you spend every day trying to act like you're not living in a world that is speaking in a language that you do not understand? Do you spend every single day doing all of the work trying to understand everyone else while they all just ignore the fact that you're burning out? Do you understand what it's like to feel incompatible with life? I'm going to skip a little bit because we're going away. The thing is, people see these struggles and think that I am the one who needs to be helped or fixed. When you're part of a minority and the world sees your pain, they think the solution is to erase the existence of others like you. If you cannot exist in a way that is aligned with the majority, it is believed that the problem lies with you rather than with society. The reality is that's not true. I read all the message in the comments I receive. I hear the pain and the struggles. I see how drained we all are and I know I need to get up again and again and keep fighting. So I'll try again tomorrow. Right now though, I rest. Today wasn't the day and that's okay. So I'm going to read, uh, from my first novel and also, this will only take five minutes, um, a poem from this wonderful pamphlet, um, by J. P. Seabright and then a short piece from, um, about how I. wrote the Suicide Book. Okay, so I'll start with this. So all you need to know about this is that the main character is in Paris and she's just been at a restaurant with a woman who's 20 years older than her and she's got a thing for a bit like, um, Violette Leduc for Simone de Beauvoir. Uh, and it's not her partner. Okay. They left the restaurant at about 10. 30. May asked, Would you like me to walk with you back to your apartment? Francine said, yes, you can walk with me and will you carry my bag too? She smiled and held out her bag. Yes, I will carry your bag if you like. May know I am teasing you. Really, you are behaving like the boyfriend I never had. I wouldn't want to be behaving like a man, May said. I don't see myself like that. Francine asked, how do you see yourself? This is interesting. Not like a man, May said. She felt embarrassed. You see yourself as a woman then, Francine said, and she laughed. Francine was either being mean or she was being flirtatious. I am a human being, May said. And here's the poem. It's from Trauma. They go through the alphabet. This wonderful queer writer from, uh, London. Trauma W. Write what you know, they said, but not that. Speak your own truths, they urged, but not this. It's too raw, too real, too upsetting for others to read. It's not what people want to hear right now. Do you have something lighter, less, you know, dark? Be authentic, they said, but not too real. Write what you know, but not actually about you. Write what you know, but what if.. This is what you've always known, what you've only ever known. Sexual assault, rape, suicide, incest, self harm, depression. Sexual assault, rape, suicide, incest, self harm, depression. Mental, mental breakdown, alcoholism, gender dysphoria. Exhaustion, mental breakdown, alcoholism, gender dysphoria. Exhaustion, chronic illness, chronic illness, loneliness, isolation, pain, despair. Isolat Loneliness, isolation, pain, despair. Write what you know, but not yet. And now I'm going to read a very short piece, an extract from R U OK?, a writing event published online in Moxie magazine. It's about the fluid boundary between author and character, and um, as I said, um, where I was wandering around being my main character. It takes place in a second hand bookshop in Te Whanganui a Tara. And you just need to know that the main character is obsessed with suicide. I, my main character, She, went to the counter. Have you got anything on suicide? I thought I'd ask and then I or she she was the one I was always thinking of Could get a cup of tea somewhere rather than spend half an hour trying to scale the psychology or self help sections or whatever Where there was in here picture piles of books on tables and floor to ceiling shelves The man led her, or rather me, to the back of the shop. He said, you might find something in that section about how to help teenagers who are suicidal. He pointed over at the parenting section. And over here, he pointed at another non fiction area, you might find something about being near the end. But I'll go and look on the system in the meantime. Oh, thanks. There is always something a bit awkward about asking for books on suicide. On sex would be the same. But being polite can be a help. I'm also interested, I added, and therefore so would she later on, in fiction. If you can think of anything, fiction or non fiction, anything at all. He went off. A Parent's Guide for Suicidal and Oppressed Teens. A blue dot sticker on the cover with the number 31 written on it. Not anything I am interested in. I am not a parent and neither is my main character, but still. I opened the book, as she would too. She did in fact question the point of this time wasting activity as she saw it. But I pointed out to her that although I was interested in her primarily, I also had potential readers to consider, and aside from the necessity of variation and tone, some of them would be parents of teenagers, or teenagers themselves perhaps, or people who were concerned about people other than themselves. So we could at least pick up the parent's guide. And I reminded her that although her focus was tightly narrow, and rightly so, she was set on going to Parliament's public gallery while we were in Aotearoa to watch the debates around the end of life choices. An activity you could describe as lacking in tunnel vision. Diversification, she said, variations on the parent's guidebook in my hands and in my character's hands. In pencil, on the first page was the number 10, and under that, Babies short for baby section perhaps excuse me I said to the petite beanie wearing person make her taller make her a man who was shelving nearby does this mean it's 10 That's right. Oh, thanks. Did that what did that make the 31 mean then? Oh, well, if you need any help just ask Thank you. Not with my life, I don't. Preventing your suicide and that of others looked interesting or rather overconfident by Dr. Howard Rosenthal, who, as the blurb told her, or me if you prefer, but later her, teaches you to say no to suicide and really mean it. Scientific, scientifically sound advice in a lively, folksy manner. The most important book you'll ever read? You bet it is. I left it on the shelf. The last section, before we go to questions from the audience. Why? Why do you write or who do you write for? Um, I mean, like I said, my first book I wrote for myself. Um, so I wrote it to put everything in order. I had just been diagnosed at the age of 21. I had been in the mental health services for a very long time. And at that point in my life, I had been attempting suicide at least once a month. Um, so getting a diagnosis was.. It was a huge thing. It saved my life, but I had to then reprocess everything I knew about who I was and what had happened in my life. And that was just me putting it in order. So that was, that's why I wrote that one. The second one, I had seen.. The way my first book impacted people, um, and I'd been asked to do a second book, and I knew that with ADHD, there's not a very great understanding of it, it's just hyperactivity, it must be little boys, they're violent, you know, and so, I thought, you know, well, I have the ability to write a book on this, people are asking for it, and I know that the first one was helpful, so.. I did it to help people. I like helping people. Uh, so I don't really think about the reader when I'm writing, but, um, I do tend to write about.. Characters who don't come across well who struggle and that seems to connect with some readers And I also write a lot of dialogue. So I suppose people would read it if they like a lot of dialogue and they would have to be people who are comfortable with messiness with unresolved situations and Humor dark humor because I do think there's a place for it. I think it helps Yeah, um, my first book I definitely wrote because there's just no, there's not very many. Asian New Zealand writers. Um, when that book was published, we had one book of fiction, um, maybe like four or five books of poetry. Um, this just wasn't really much. And there was not much that was, um, about a contemporary experience of migration, like there was some stuff that was like more archival, like about the history of like sort of the. Gold rush Chinese people. And then there was like the history of the, um, you know, market gardening sort of generation, but I really wanted to be like, well, I came in the nineties as did a lot of other Chinese and other Asian people. Um, and there is not really any literature to reflect that experience. Um, and that's why I wrote my first book and then. Um, for the second book, I was just like, Oh, I can't write for an audience. It's too much pressure. I can literally not think about that. Um, and also I guess in terms of like a, of a sustainable, like creative practice, I think I realized that I first and foremost had to write for myself. Um, and so I think that's why I was just like, well, I need to write something that. I would like to read, um, and that's why I also threw out my first 70, 000 words, because I didn't like reading it. I've sent through about a page and a half of questions, and Rose was like, We're not going to get through those questions. And I was like, I think we will. We have not got through the questions. Um, and I'm going to end with the question that I want to ask, because I'm treating this as my own self help panel. Um, one of the things that I really struggle with is, That, as one of the kind of few trans comic people in New Zealand, sometimes it feels like people will read my comics as though I am talking about the trans masc New Zealand experience and that stops me from writing because I don't. I want to be able to write for myself and to share my own things without it getting extrapolated onto a community. And I wondered if any of you had thoughts or feelings around, um, writing as a queer person, um, or with a marginalized identity and, and how you, how you process that or how you deal with that. I just address it straight up in my book, like right at the start of the book, I explain that I cannot write on behalf of an entire community. The book is designed to be edited and adjusted for each person, and I have just created space for people to consider things. Well, um, I was reading out my book about suicide and I was asked, are there any lesbian characters in it? And, um, and, uh, but I'd already written the book by then, so I didn't feel the pressure to actually.. There is lesbian content. It makes me think of, um, Hannah Gadsby, who, who, who said, um, I, I love this, she said something like, um, She was criticized for not putting enough lesbian content in some show, and she said, Well, I was standing there the whole time. So.. I think there's something true there, but, um, also for my first novel, um, Footnotes, it wasn't, um, it wasn't publicized as a lesbian novel. And, um, I was interviewed in, you know, Diva magazine and places like this, but it wasn't, but I actually didn't want it to be a lesbian novel. I'm happy for it to also be a lesbian novel, but it's a novel about a long term relationship. Relationship and about all sorts of other things, idolization. Yeah, I'll add something funnily enough. Um, so the title of my first book, uh, the subtitle includes that I'm diagnosed. Um, and someone decided that because I'd written that I was against self diagnosis. And so the book wasn't for them. Um, so I tried to try and explain that as well. Um. Yeah, I feel that so hard about the, oh no, everyone's gonna think that I'm the X perspective, um, and it's so hard because like if you read a book with Like, straight cis gendered characters. There's so many of them, and they have so many perspectives, and no one would ever think that there's a canonical cis gendered straight person experience. And so, I guess, like, the only thing is, like, I think I've seen how much, like, you know, like, like Chris being the current part laureate, like, how much his work has sort of, like, influenced. Other like young queer Asian writers to be like, Oh my God, I can be doing this as well. And it's just, yeah. One of the, we can only just keep going and be, be supportive. I think is the biggest thing of like people. I like, I think as a general rule, I'm always just like, people should be writing and like people should be encouraged to write. Um, and yeah, I'm just hoping for a future where there is more diverse literature and more diverse literature is being consumed as a default. So when you, you know, have a. You know, you can have a novel that incidentally has queer characters or like POC characters and that's not like the sensational part of the novel because we can all be like Sally Rooney's normal people, you know, like I think another thing with this is that You can never predict how people are going to react to things and you are gonna get bad reactions to things So I think when it comes to writing you have to learn to be confident in yourself like I know my intentions with my book. I know that I was not writing on behalf of an entire community. I did my best to make that clear. I was very careful with my wording. But you know, there might be some people who think I'm talking about an entire community. And that's okay. That's not my intention and I just have to trust myself and be confident in what I've done. Wonderful. Is there any questions from the audience? Hi everyone. Uh, my question's actually just for Rose. Um, when you were thinking about doing the masters in creative writing, what made you think, and you, you said you hadn't done that much work beforehand. What made you think that you'd, there was a writer in there? Um, shout out to my friend, Amon. Who said, Hey, Rose, you're really good at writing. Have you ever considered doing the Masters of Creative Writing? Um, like before I moved to Wellington, I don't even know you could do a Masters in Creative Writing. Like I did not know that was a thing that existed. I felt very lucky that that was, I came here and that I knew enough people socially that had gone through the Masters of Creative Writing. And they were all quite encouraging about it. Yes. Thanks, Eamon. I would like to know how, when you're getting published, like how you balance oversharing or if there are things you're scared to share and how you know, like when to hold something back and keep it personal or like, yeah, when you're sharing things that are a bit scary to put out there in print and get sold in a book. The thing is, I, I have no control with my ADHD. I share way too much, and I do it all the time, um, and I've kind of just gotten to a point where it's like, I, I've been through a lot, and I could learn to put that away, I could learn to hide it, and I could learn to follow the rules of how much is too much, um, or, I can take that, and I can stand out, and I can make people know that they're not alone, um, so, yeah, there's a bit of a balance of not sharing too much, but I value being open and honest, um, I think my main caution is around which age group I'm talking to. So if I'm at a school, um, I will still share my story, but I will be very careful in my wording. So, uh, example, I went to speak to a bunch of intermediates, a good 200 kids there. Um, and I gave my talk and part of it is, yeah, I did struggle with my mental health and the kids who weren't neurodivergent. Over their heads. They didn't know what I was talking about. The kids who were neurodivergent came up to me afterwards, um, and they asked me, very directly, if I had struggled with suicide. Um, so it's, yeah, I think I've just gotten very good at Wording things to reach the audience that I want it to reach. And skipping over the audience. I don't want it to reach . Just one thing, I think that, uh, writers quite, oh no, I won't speak for everyone, but, um, a lot of novelists as well are liars. And, and I think it's a safe thing to be, I don't go to events and say, I'm now going to divulge everything. I don't, I prepare. I know. Oh, I think they might, and I won't. And I'll ask this and I'll answer that. That is the truth. That much of the truth I'll give you. Hi, Jim. Um, there was actually an essay in my book that almost got pulled. Um, because when I was in the editing process, one of the editors at VUP were like, um, I don't know if this should go in the essay collection because it feels a bit too close to home still. And I think that's something I really think about is like, I don't, I don't love to read trauma on the page and I would never want other people to read trauma on the page. And I think that. I think you personally need some distance from trauma to write about it in a way that is safe for a reader. Like, I think it's really different from if you're just like processing it, then like do whatever you need. But I think specifically with publication, like, I think Um, you, yeah, you want it to feel safe for the reader and for a while I was, um, the nonfiction editor for a Australian based lit mag and which I think was popular with quite a younger audience and like so many of the nonfiction essays that I got sent to read, I, I would just read them and I was just like, there's no way I could publish this because I think I would be doing you a disservice to like publish something that felt this. Raw, because I'm like, I know you feel about this. Like this about this now, um, but I also know how you feel about it will change and it felt weird to be like, and there's going to be this artifact that's attached to your name on the internet about it. So it's, I think it's really hard to say when something feels safe to a reader and like, you know, with the particular essay in my book, there was, it was obviously like some doubt in there that emerged for one of the people. For UP, but I think, yeah, at the end of the day, like, get more people to read it, ask them how it feels about it. And then it is just kind of your call as well, because I was just like, oh, okay, I get that. They feel like it's a bit marginal, but there was a bunch of other stuff in the essay that I really sort of wanted to be published that was not about traumatic stuff. So yeah, it's a really, it's a really tough call. Yeah. Um, another thing, uh, in hindsight, looking back, um. One thing I think people should consider when they are writing is what it's taking away. So, I released my book, and it wasn't until several months after that I realized I had given up the luxury of choosing when and how I disclose. My name shows up, it comes with my diagnosis. I don't get the choice anymore. Um, would I change it? No. But, I wish I had thought about it, and.. Made that choice before I had released that information. So consider what you're sharing. I think we have time for. One more question. You can shout it out and we'll pick up. Um, I just wanted to ask Rose, when you deleted your 17, 000 words, or when you chucked them out, did you like, full on delete them? Or did you like, put them somewhere so you could look at them again? I mean, the file's still on my Google Drive. It's in the cloud. Um, but like, I actually printed out a hard copy right at the end of the residency. And I was just like, I always was like, oh, I'll like, go back to this. You know what? I don't think I'm going to go back to this. Yeah. All right. I think we'll end it there and then you can have a chance to nibble away and read away and maybe buy, but thank you, our wonderful panelists. That's been amazing. I feel like we could keep chatting for a long, long time, but I know that, you know. We have to go home at some point. Um, but a round of applause for our panelists. Also, a massive thank you to Liam and to the Same Same board for putting this on. Liam, you've done an incredible job, especially with the zine, but for all the work that you do, you're amazing. . The full transcription of the recording ends. A list of keywords/tags describing the recording follow. These tags contain the correct spellings of names and places which may have been incorrectly spelt earlier in the document. 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