Amra Pajalic

Well it’s been an exhausting week. My girlfriend Helen came up from Melbourne and was here from Saturday to Wednesday. She’s one of those people who can’t sit still and has energy to burn. I tried to keep up but the last few days I was flailing and had to nap while she did her exercise junkets. Overall it was a wonderful visit and she’s great company. We had a wonderful Christmas lunch and I off course over-bought food but thankfully we ate it all, nothing went off and I didn’t have to cook for the duration of her visit. A win-win-win situation.

I did the Bridge Climb for the second time. I wanted Helen to experience it but it’s one of those things that just doesn’t have the same wow factor when you go at it the second time. The view is stunning and it’s amazing to see the city from the top, plus the harbour was full as people geared up for the Sydney to Hobart yacht race, but I’m telling you right now-never again. Once was enough, twice was torture and a third time will involve a suicide attempt. But at least I have another cool pic to add to my momentos.

I got to see a lot of movies. I saw Just Like Heaven with Reese Witherspoon and Mark Rufallo. I’ve been hanging out for this movie ever since I saw the previews but Hollywood hasn’t been doing right by me with the romantic comedies so I was a bit suss. Thankfully the movie more than lived up to my expectations. I think this one is a keeper and I’ll be buying it on DVD sometime in the future. It had a lovely message to it, wonderful performance and was just a real feel-good experience.

Most romantic comedies fall flat because they don’t have enough plausability about the way that the love develops between characters. As in love is people eating food from each other’s plates (Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant in Two Weeks Notice or people eating the same M&Ms in Wedding Planner) but in Just Like Heaven there is real plausability about the characters interacting with each other, the reason their feelings develop and the basis of their love. The chemistry between Witherspoon and Rufallo was spot on and there were some really laugh-out-loud moments and real heart-wrenching moments. Just thinking about it makes me all mushy.

I also saw Narnia which was another movie I was looking forward to and I can report it was absolutely amazing. There were so many scenes where I had to choke back tears and the visuals were absolutely stunning. It was one of those movies where I could almost remember the child that I was and imagine the wonder with which the children watched it. It had a really beautiful message about family loyalty and love, duty and sacrifice and a realistic depiction about the thin line that sometimes exists between good and evil. I highly recommend it.

I’ve also seen something that makes me happy to welcome the New Year. This is my hottie alert for the year. Watch out for this name in future: Jensen Ackles. He’s a hottie with a face that’s chiselled enough to save him from being a pretty boy, a body you could eat off and charisma that makes my heart go pitter-patter. He caught my attention in the show that made Jessica Alba a household name the series Dark Angel as Alec. Since we were a few years behind on the show Days of Our Lives I became a regular watcher just for a few glimpses of Jensen. And now (drum roll please) he’s coming back to our screens in the new series Supernatural which is supposed to debut in the new year. I can’t wait. Here’s a pic so you all see for yourselves what I’m drooling about.

I’ve also been catching up on my reading. In one of those strange instances of synchronicity I read Barbara Delinsky’s Looking for Peyton Place. I’ve long been a fan of her writing. Delinsky started as a category writer and has slowly developed into a women’s fiction writer of real depth. Looking for Peyton Place provided a history lesson because in it she includes the back-story about Grace Metalious who wrote Peyton Place in 1956 and was a bomshell book that broke conventions in its times. Now it seems there is a movie being made about Grace and her life, which was incredibly tragic as she died at age 39 from alcoholism as the success of her book in a sense destroyed her life. When reading about Peyton Place it seems that much of contemporary culture and the advent of soaps was because of the book so it’s one I’ll be following up on.

Well I have a few more days of my holidays. More books, more movies and more fun to be had before the grind starts again. I’ve got a mate coming on the 11 January so more visitors to look forward to.

Woke up at 5 in the morning with those brooding thoughts of all the things that are bugging me at the moment. One of them is my dependence on people (friends) who kind of flake out. Been feeling like I’m doing all the chasing and kind of feeling rejected and pathetic as a result. Started thinking to myself that I never used to feel like this. That I was actually in need of people around me so it’s obviously not my friends (cause they’re all the same). It’s more me.

Yep, figured out it’s the good old procrastination just changing his hat to trick me. Now that I’ve got the most time on my hands to write than ever before in my life I’m having to deal with all the avoidance issues in a upfront way. Before I could put it aside cause I was studying and that was always good as a diversion technique but now there’s nothing to hide behind but me.

Had lunch with a girlfriend who’s struggling with the same thing (but her thing is relationships) and she said: “Wouldn’t it be great if you could just piss off somewhere beautiful like the Daintree’s for a couple of weeks and just plug out your novel.” And I said: “Yeah, but I’d be taking myself with me.”

This novel that I’m working on means so much to me because it’s my family’s story and something not to be messed with. I kept thinking that my blockage stemmed from my fear about my family’s reaction to it but now I received my Mum’s blessing I know that it’s actually me.

It’s really easy to talk about what you want to do and what you could achieve if only, but when you’re actually out there and having to do it and there’s no if only to hide behind it’s pretty scary.

It’s scary because you have to actually do it and put yourself on the line and basically offer your heart and soul up and if it fails, well then you have to pick yourself up off the floor and try again. And that takes incredible strength and no one knows what they’re made of until that moment of truth.

So this morning I tossed and turned for an hour and realised that sleep wasn’t going to come. So I got up and found my diary. I used to be a very regular diary correspondent but in the past few years I’ve been getting lazy. I only record moments of great angst when I basically have no one else to talk it through with. I also kept taking the lazy way out that my writing acts like therapy so there’s no reason to journal anymore.

But this morning as I was writing out all my thoughts and feelings this feeling of peace and energy descended on me. By putting down all my negative thoughts I was re-charged with positive energy so instead of brooding I started thinking action.

I used to write annual goals every year about things I wanted to achieve but gave that up a few years ago because I never achieved anything. But suddenly all these goals started flowing through me and I felt the need to record them.

I think there’s something about this time of year where you feel a sense of hope and renewal, where the new year is a chance to start again and do better than the year before.

So I’m going to record my 2006 goals for posterity:

Weekly:
Write every weekday for at least 30 mins or 1000 words
Exercise three times a week
Write in journal once a week
Update blog once a week
Go on a artist date

While some of these things I will just do automatically (I’ve been exercising regularly for a couple of months now as well as updating my blog at least weekly) I want the sense of achievement and recognition in ticking them off my to do list.

I want to make a journal entry once a week so I can record my thought processes as I struggle through my novel while the blog will act as a overview of my week and how well did in achieving my goals.

The artist date comes from Julia Cameron’s book The Artist Way. I started reading and working through it but then stopped. I took on the morning pages and that provided me with an incredible impetus forward and then off course I got cocky and thought, yep, I’m on track. I’ll just keep going. But off course I ended up stopping and starting.

So I’m making a commitment to an artist date which will also act like a challenge for me to do things that I like the thought of but never do. For example, I’ve never been to a movie by myself yet there are heaps of movies I’d love to see where taking my husband is not an option (he’s still ragging on me about going to see Moonlight and Valentino about 7 or so years later) and I can’t get a girlfriend to come because we all live such busy, busy lives that schedules clash etc. So that’s going to be one of my artist dates.

One of them is to have a bubble bath with candles. This is just too fussy and I automatically dismiss it as too much effort. But what about the sensuality is addressing your own needs and putting yourself first. Or taking my laptop and writing in a different place. I’ve never done this. Again too hard and too much effort. Or take a dance class just to try something new. So I’m making a list of things and I have to tick them off one by one.

I’m looking forward to the new year. I feel that every year I’ve been moving ahead and living my life authentically while challenging myself and 2006 will be no different. I hope your goals and dreams for 2006 come true.

Well I got the newspaper yesterday and read the article with my interview. First off-the photo. Fair. None of us are looking up at the photographer cause we’re faking having a chat so you can mostly see us in profile. If only I had known I wouldn’t have agonised so much over the state of my skin.

The interview-while the spruiking of my novel didn’t make it, there was a fair chunk about the inspiration to my story “Fuck Me Eyes” which is published in the anthology. The story is about my first time in a nightclub, when I was 12 years old. Yes, I was advanced for my age. My sister, who’s seven years older, took me.

One of the quotes in the interview needs explanation: “So I went clubbing with her and there were a lot of bizarre things that happened that night but I kept (my story) clean. It was a very surreal experience because it was a very grungy nightclub and I actually got punched. But I didn’t put that in the story because it’s fiction.”

I’d forgotten about saying that the story is clean and then when I read this I kind of panicked cause if you read my story you realise it’s very earthy. There’s sex, mentions of porno and masturbation. But when you put it into the context of what actually happened that night: hitchhiking with truck drivers, getting bashed, and being in a room full of drunken and drugged drongo’s who are smoking pot-well you kind of see that really, the story is very clean-compared to reality anyway.

If anyone is interested in reading the article send me an email and I’ll send you a scanned copy.

Last night I was chatting to my Mum and I told her about the article. Since I’m sending it to her I kind of had to warn her about what happened that night and asked if she read my story. What I actually said was: “You probably didn’t read my story since you don’t read any of my work.” She replied, indignantly: “Yes, I did.”

Cause she knows what happened she said that it was based on a lot of real events. I told her yes, but there was a lot more things that happened that didn’t make it into the story. So if anyone out there talks to my Mum-don’t go into specifics. Some things mothers don’t need to know.

I was hoping that this story would prepare my family for my writing. That is that it deals with a lot of fact but it’s very intermingled and pushed into fiction. I told her about my novel and what it’s about and that the protagonists’ mother will be bi polar, like my Mum. I explained to her what I’m trying to do with the novel, which is present the issue of mental illness in ethnic communities and discuss issues of Australian identity. She was cool with it and in a sense gave her blessing.

I’m really relieved that I had this discussion with her. Sometimes presenting your story, and therefore other people’s story, can be seen as exploitation. I watched this movie a few months ago, Tarnation, and the young movie-maker was telling his story and his mother’s story (she also suffered from a mental illness) and there was one scene at the end of the movie that really disturbed me. His Mother attempted suicide and ended up brain damaged as a result and he had this scene where he’s demanding answers and upsetting her and I just felt he was exploiting her to create drama.

I’m kind of having trouble myself writing my novel because I’m aware of this issue. I’m very aware of the fact that in trying to present the story of my community I could be opening them up to attack and providing ammunition to this end. I’m wanting to explore the way that after the Balkan War, Bosnians discovered religion even though up until that point they barely knew anything about their cultural and religious practices because they lived for fifty years under communism. So in exploring how they overreacted and really threw themselves into religion I could be inadvertently feeding into the anti-Muslim sentiment that exists out there. It’s something I’m aware of and will have to work very hard to avoid.

I want this novel to actually open up dialogue and present a message that we have to be accepting of people. In a sense the Bosnians adopted and clung onto Islam because of the fact that they were being subjected to ethnic cleansing because of their religious beliefs, even though they didn’t really practice their religious beliefs prior to the Balkan War. This kind of action has the effect that people feel backed into a corner and think to themselves “Well if that’s what you say/think I am. Then I will be that.”

I’m also feeling super-sensitive about talking about this novel too much to people. I had a terrible experience a few months ago when I attempted joining a writing group where there was a bit of a negative reaction about my novel. This was just after the London bombings and I was presenting the other side of the view and while I have to take responsibility (you have to pick the time and the place) it’s made me extremely wary.

I’m feeling a bit isolated and lonely and was thinking about joining another writing group but after all the riots and unrest, I think I’ll lay low. While if my novel does get published I will be feeling the heat, I can live with that. It will be complete and (off course) perfect. But while I’m in the process of writing it and battling my self-doubts, I don’t need to make it any harder on myself. And being isolated is the nature of being a writer so I just need to suck it up and get used to it.

Well today was going to be a big writing day but it hasn’t quite panned out. I’m finishing a 800 word erotic fiction piece for the Cosmopolitan magazine comp. $10K for the first prize. While I don’t think my story is flash-hot (sometimes you get the rush and know that it’s got something. Well I don’t have it with this) I’ve done it, it’s free to enter, so I’m just sending it in.

I’m at the 80,000 word mark with my novel. Before anyone gets excited, this is 80K of crapola that needs to be put together into a cohesive draft, and I still have quite a few more scenes to block. But it’s getting there and that’s all I can ask for.

Something happened this weekend that has shaken me up. There were race riots on the beach at Cronulla with 5,000 residents rioting and bashing anyone of Middle Eastern or Mediterranean appearance.

To read about it here are some newspaper websites Sydney Morning Herald , The Australian , and The Daily Telegraph .

The story starts last weekend when two lifeguards were bashed by men of Middle Eastern appearance. According to the residents gangs from the Western suburbs practice intimidation and harassment on the beach and so this is retaliation. Last week text messages were sent to residents’ mobiles to the effect of “Kill the wogs,” and “Kill the Lebs.”

This was being dubbed by the media as an act of patriotism gone wrong as the residents were carrying around Australian flags and placards saying “Aussies fight back” and chanting “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi, oi, oi,” and “No more Lebs.”

One of the residents acted as a spokesperson and said “This is what our grandfathers fought for… we don’t need Lebos to take it away from us.” Alcohol fuelled the riot was out of control in attacking anyone they thought was of Middle Eastern appearance, and eventually turned on the police and attacked an ambulance.

They descended on Northies Hotel where a man of Middle Eastern descent was rumoured to be hiding. The mob screamed for him to show himself and chanted “String him up.” This morning the police commissioner in an interview with Today on Channel 9 said that the man chased into the hotel by 100 locals was of Italian descent.

Assistant Police Commissioner Mark Goodwin condemned the attacks and said that the crowds attacking people of Middle Eastern appearance were un-Australian.

Last night car loads of young people drove into Maroubra and avenged the Cronulla riots by damaging 100 cars.

This has made me think about the meaning of words and the power they hold. For example the term un-Australian. This is a term that is trotted out by anyone who has a five second spot on tv when some sort of a national scandal breaks out.

While I know what is implied by the term I feel that the use of this language actually promotes this sort of racial vilification. When people say un-Australian they are calling up the primordial images of Australia that we hold dear to our heart. The land of fair-go. But it also implies that Australians are above certain behaviour. Hugh Mackay says it best.

But by using this term it is actually a term of division. To me it means that we also decide who is Australian and who is not. Currently we have a government that has been deporting long term residents of Australia because they are seen as doing things that are un-Australian.

Robert Jovicic , 38, was born in France to Serbian parents and arrived in Australia as a two-year-old but his permanent residency was revoked two years ago after a string of drug-related burglary offences.

The residents of Cronulla who were using this term to attack the supposed Lebo gangs mean that they are not Australian because they are of an ethnic background and especially because they are Lebanese, therefore Arab, therefore Muslim.

And the term of Middle Eastern appearance is a short-cut for Arab. So when the media reports that a Cronulla resident was arrested they mean an Australian of an Anglo-background, whereas as soon as an Arab is arrested the Middle-Eastern appearance is tagged on with the implication that their ethnicity is responsible for their crime.

The residents who chased a man of Italian descent into a hotel because they thought he was Middle Eastern did not differentiate. All they saw was a certain skin colour and they attacked. When they chanted “String him up,” they were calling up the images of lynchings in America perpetuated against African-Americans who had to be put in their place. Dare we ask the question-do people of Middle Eastern descent also need to be put in their place?

The media referred to this as patriotism gone wrong. There was no condemnation of the mob, in fact there seemed to be a degree of approval. These residents were just fighting to claim what was theirs. It was only when the mob turned on the police and an ambulance that they were condemned.

The word wog is another that has different shades of meaning attached to it. I watched an interview on Oprah with the cast members of the movie Crash which deals with the issue of racism in a really open way. Discussion turned to the use of the word nigger. How it has a history of use as a weapon against African-Americans and yet it is used as a bonding term by African-Americans themselves.

Terrence Howard, one of the cast members, was saying that when he hears one of his brothers call him “my Nigg’r” it gives him a feeling of warmth, whereas Oprah was saying that it just creates confusion about the meaning and use of the term and that she hates it no matter how it is used because of the historical significance and what it represents.

So too does the word wog hold the same ambiguity in Australia. As someone who is a wog the word means solidarity. I know the history, in fact it is the reason that I use the word. It was used against our parents and grandparents as a form of denigration but in order to transform this experience and take back our power we adopt it. A history of the word Wog . Some of the comments underneath are pretty full on so read with care.

I agree with Terrence Howard that my use of the word wog and when my fellow wogs refer to me as such gives me a feeling of warmth and belonging. As there are wogs from many different nationalities this is our code to join up.

The same way that the Aborigines had to create a Pan-Aboriginal movement that incorporated the different tribes they identified with before the arrival of the Colonists, so too do people from a Non-English Speaking Background (NESB) invoke the wog tag to create a sense of community against the non-NESB’s who seek to differentiate them from the mainstream.

While the rioters in Cronulla used the word wog with racial overtones that still doesn’t make me re-think my use of the word. Most who use the word negatively are trying to imply that all wogs are the problem because we won’t drop our culture and assimilate to the mainstream, I say the problem is theirs.

I am no less an Australian because I am a wog. Because I respect my culture, my traditions and my family and these traditions incorporate traditionally Australian aspects of culture as well as the traditional Bosnian aspects of culture.

The implication is that you can only be Australian if you are an empty vessel who is waiting to be filled, but who is to decide what and who is traditionally Australian. If we’re going to judge the claim as to the length of time on this land well then Aborigines win hands down.

The man who shouted that his grandfather fought for him to enjoy this land (that is the Cronulla beaches) was right. His grandfather did fight for the right to decide who is Australian and who is not. In fact the first act of the Federal Parliament in 1901 was to pass the White Australia policy to protect our shores from the yellow peril. And we are still fighting this fight.

These riots showed the insidious racism that has been seething under the surface of this great brown land. I hope that one day this debate will be laid to rest, but in the meantime I just hope that it doesn’t cause irreparable damage to our country.

The fact is one of the most amazing things about Australia and the Australian way of life is that it was the land of fair-go, of tolerance and was one of the few countries where the policy of multiculturalism sought to embrace all cultures as opposed wipe out difference. Let’s hope we can get back to these traditions.

Well the good news is that according to Oprah I’m wearing the right bra. What a relief!!!

I finished Jennifer Weiner’s Goodnight Nobody. The motivation that was bugging me was explained and it was a good read, but the cheeky bugger has this open-ended finish like she’s setting it up for a sequel so I can’t stop thinking about it. Clever, clever chicky babe.

On Monday was the photoshoot and interview for the The Glebe and Western Weekly, my local paper. There were three of us and the photographer took a photo from a ladder while we stood among the shelves at Gleebooks while we chatted. Hopefully this means there will be no unflattering angles.

The journalist called later in the afternoon and we had a five minute interview. She was asking questions like how long have I been writing, how did I get into the anthology, where I get my inspiration from. I managed to spruke the novel I’m working on (publishers beware).

The issue was published this Thursday and it’s been a painful experience trying to get a copy of the darn paper. Called the distributor who told me all these places it should be available in my suburb so I did the run around and found bubcus. Either I was talking to the wrong publisher, it’s incredibly popular or they only distribute five copies per location. Then I spoke to the receptionist and asked her to send me a copy of the paper, only to receive it on Friday and see no article. Called the journo and it seems they have two versions of the paper and I received the one for my local area but it’s in the other issue. Talk about an odyssey. So I’m still waiting to see how it all turned out. What torture!!!

We’re in the spend-happy mode. Our motto at the moment is we’re buying Xmas presents for ourselves. This has meant a huge budget blow-out and I’m not going to look at my credit card statement until January when I can pay the sucker off. We’ve bought 7 cds and 6 dvds. Among my purchases I got The Best of Bette Midler. She rules!!! I spent two hours listening to her cd over and over and it’s amazing. Also got the Best of Johnny Cash in preparation for Walk The Line, which still hasn’t come out. Among the movie purchases got Gone with the Wind, Bend it Like Beckham, Looking for Alibrandi, Million Dollar Baby, Good Will Hunting and other gems. I figure that this way I won’t have to rent any dvds over the xmas break so it’s a win-win. This is my lame arse justification.

On the writing front-waiting to hear feedback on my short story from my critique partner, Jodi, in Melbourne. She’s flat out at the moment moving into a new place so she’ll read it before she comes down in January, which is good because by then I will be over my whole high about finishing it and feeling like it’s my perfect baby and be able to get stuck into finalising it.

After spending two weeks trying to work up the motivation to transcribe 24 pages of notes, I’ve realised that the notebook method is officially caput. It achieved its aim which was get me into the characters and get the flow of the story happening but now it’s just slowing me down. In order to do the typing of 1500 words every day I’m going try a new method. On my work days I’ll get up at 5.45 and do some writing. I’ve realised that when I achieve my writing goal for the day I can relax whereas if it’s something I have to do it feels like an itch that I have to scratch and I’m on edge the whole time. So I’ll see how this goes. I want to trial it this week because next week I’ll be doing my whole Christmas run-around and writing won’t be high on the agenda.

I don’t traditionally celebrate Christmas but this year a girlfriend who does is coming to visit so I’m getting in the whole thing. I haven’t bought a tree cause that’s just too much hassle but I got some decorations and I’m going to have a whole feast. My plan is to eat until we have to be rolled out of the house. I’m actually really excited because this is something I’ve wanted to do for ages. Whenever I see the Chrisco hamper ads my mouth waters but when it’s just me and DH I’m just motivated to do the whole thing so this is going to be great for all of us.

I’m also continuing my Meg Cabot addiction. I’ve bought the Mediator books 3 and 4 in the series. I love the Mediator character Suzy cause she’s a kick-arse kind of a chick and she puts ghosts’ spirits to rests and I just love the whole supernatural element. I also got another first novel from the Missing series which is about a chick hit by lightning and who then gets psychic abilities. She’s such a great writer but I also have an ulterior motive.

My reasoning is that when you’re a writer reading acts like a energy thickshake. You put all these books in your head and then they jumble up together and you end up getting inspriation from them. What I love about Meg Cabot is the voice that she captures with her characters and this is making me relax into my writing and let my character’s voice come out.

But really I’m just a kid at heart. It’s so much fun to read about a 16 year-old-character and get into that frame of mind. My teenage years were hell on earth. Basically if someone offered me big bucks to re-live it I’d rather get a gun and put myself out my misery, but in these novels I kind of get the chance to do that.

I just completed a short story for Australian Women’s Weekly competition. I had the idea a while back and got halfway through the draft but then kind of stalled. It’s been bugging me since and I finally got my shit together and worked on it this week.

While I was finishing it I felt like I was wrangling a steer, the story just kind of kept getting away from me and I had to keep bringing it back on track. By the end I felt like I’d lost it completely and it was a dud. I had my husband read it and he helped me with a really important image so that I was able to go back over it and finalise it. I’ve just sent it off to my critique partner so that will be the true test of it’s worth.

Because the AWW comp is for a story featuring a female character and can be between 3000-5000 words I’ve decided I’m going to try to do an extract of my current novel as a story. The story I just finished was going to be an epic one but instead finished at 3,500 words and I just feel like I can’t miss this opportunity. Most comps and journals consider a short story 3000 words which can be really restricting. Anyway this idea might bomb big time because it might be really hard for me to think of a part of my novel as a short story but I’ll see how I go.

Yesterday was a bit of up and down day. My little tabby, Roscoe, still has a urinary infection. He had to get tested again and the vet has sent of the urine sample so she finds the exact antibiotic that will help him. Another $116 thank you very much. I’m collecting the receipts just so I can torture myself at the end of the year with the total.

I ended up spending all of Friday by the phone waiting for the journo to call for the interview, but no luck. Tomorrow we’re having the photographs taken so maybe she’ll be there then because the four of us being featured had conflicting schedules about when she could call. For now I’m on track with the no eating of chocolate so I don’t look like a pizza face, but failing at the no picking of my face. Make up will hopefully be my saviour.