Tuesday, March 17, 2020

It's a great time to be writing dystopia

I'm sitting here listening to the wonderful Catherine Deveny, who is doing a series of writing podcasts at the moment. She's giving me the shot of Vitamin Dev, or the Dev Enema - but it's a kick up the arse that you need to get you writing.

So for today's blog, I'm putting up my exercises from the 30 minutes online webinar.

Her first exercise. Write like your family is dead. Write like nobody will read it. Write like it will self-destruct at the end of it.

Well five minutes of writing. My topic for this  - It's a great time to be writing dystopia.

Because dystopia is here and it's real. We are in no man's land at the moment - in that space between the known and the unknown. A place where we have no idea what is going to happen next, other than it is fucking scary and really, you can't see the next steps.

Mind you, when you're writing a dystopian novel there is sooooooo much fodder that you can use. So many things which can be drawn upon that can be put in that novel. We are there. HG Wells and Ursula Le Guin and Ray Bradbury could never have predicted this.

Maybe Philip K Dick. Just as androids dream of electric sheep, we, here on the planet, dream of open spaces, full cafes and the knowledge that whatever you touch may have the effect of killing your granny in a few weeks time. It's freaking scary.

But some of the best ideas when you are writing come out from when you're frightened. Just watching your reactions can bring so many ideas to light.

And here I was thinking that in my novel I'd have to put out the timelines 20-30 years - nope, I give it five. I'm in the process of re-shaping what I've written over the last two years. Fun.

New exercise coming soon.

Make a brick not a bridge. (Dev Nugget of the day)

Okay, write for ten minutes. Here we go.

So what am I gleaning about writing dystopia in dystopian times.

Well today's idea comes from the fact that we've all gone bloody bonkers about this cretinous virus and we can't see the other end of things - and we can't, which is dreadful.

But think about what happens in a year. They reckon that we're going to lose between 50-150,000 people from this virus. They reckon once you get it, you're not going to be able to get it again. So there is that. But I'm going to start calling these imminent losses, 'The Cull", because maybe, just maybe, that's what Mother Nature or the Chinese (depends on which conspiracy theory you are peddling) are doing. What happens when you come out of this. The thought I had today is that my main character will be marked by her immunity in some way. Part of living in this new world is that you have to carry around your immunity status - probably by an implanted chip somewhere in the soft tissue of your left hand. Mind you, in Nullius, my dystopian state Australia, the Point One - the corporations which run the show, (as they have taken over the Government), are making it very easy for them to procure information on you.

This chip is implanted with all sorts of things - but one of these things is immunity to Coronavirus. It may well, in the future, be a bit of a badge of honour - having immunity to this will, in the future, be like having immunity to chicken pox, whooping cough or rubella. And just like today - no jab/acquired immunity, no play / work / reason to be a part of the functional society.

I'm not sure if anybody knows what it is like to be in the presence of somebody with shingles, only to realise you've never had chicken pox, you've been massaging them and there is a good chance you are going to end up in hospital for a week, being sedated, because adult chicken pox is only superseded by festering, infected piles in my list of things I don't want to get. (My sister was nearly hospitalised when she got chicken pox as an adult - mum never sent us to chicken pox parties when we were kids)

I think the most insidious thing about this virus is that we are all afraid of what we can't see - though we are very aware that it is there. It's like the invisible bogey man - only this pseudo-night-terror is may well kill your granny or your mate with the auto-immune disease, or the mate who's just out of chemo. I don't want to get this virus - I am not in the risk group - but I sure as hell don't want to give it to anybody.


-ooOoo-

Well, I'm at the end of Dev's writing lesson. I highly recommend any budding writer of any ability check these out. She's great at giving your both confidence and a kick up the bum.

I can now go to bed happy, knowing that I am housebound again tomorrow and playing with powerpoint  (though I will go out of a walk early morning. If we go into total lockdown I'm going to really watch my mental health).

Today's Song:


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