On standing still
The word ‘solstice’ is derived from the Latin compound sōlstitium, consisting of sōl (sun) and sistere (to stand still).
On the June solstice, the tilt of Earth's rotation axis is such that the northern hemisphere is at its closest point to the sun and the southern hemisphere at its farthest, giving us, here in Australia, the shortest day (and longest night) of the year.
The reference to stillness reflects what astronomers once considered a standing still of the sun before its ‘change in direction’ away from a northerly or southerly limit relative to Earth.
During this time of celestial stillness, I too have taken pause. I am enjoying the mid-semester break from uni and a reprieve from the many deadlines I had (and met) between April and June. It has been a welcome space to rest and focus on establishing two habits that are my holy grail: early starts, and a daily writing practice.
My desire to wake early has been an arduous journey, with incrementally earlier mornings and many a chime of my phone alarm between snoozes. I finally turned a corner this week, managing to get up before the alarm. The turning point was a wise person gently nudging me towards my ‘why’ when they recounted something Joe Dispenza had said about his waking early to meditate — that an early start was possible because his ‘why’ was a date with the divine.
As for a daily writing practice, I have been helped along by Jami Attenberg’s #1000WordsOfSummer (Jami is based in New Orleans, hence summer). It has been surprisingly easy to fit at least 1,000 words in most days without changing a single thing about my day (aside from less time mindlessly scrolling on my phone). However, to sustain the habit, I plan on structuring my mornings (with the new, improved early starts) to include writing.
I am truly thrilled about the possibilities these two new habits have opened me up to.
Brighter days ahead — literally and figuratively!
Emerging
Lessons from my sketchbook
The 20th edition of the Emerging Writers’ Festival came and went with a bang. I attended:
the fabulous program launch
an excellent workshop on podcasting, facilitated by Nana Owusu, award-winning creator and host of The Subtlety of It
a deeply inspiring conversation between Leah Jing McIntosh and Hannah Wu in the online event On Collectivity, in which they discussed their experiences as collaborators, including during their editor-writer relationship while working on Wu’s piece for LIMINAL’s anthology, Against Disappearance (2022).
And of course, I also participated as an artist, in the online comic exhibition Wayward Trance. My comic is in the yonkoma manga format. Kinda. Rather than four panels, I applied the kishōtenketsu structure that yonkoma follows across four pages (one act per page). It was my first attempt at yonkoma. I hope you enjoy my little seven panel story and the works of the other talented artists who contributed to the exhibition. It will remain accessible, archived on the EWF website.
And now, as promised in Issue 13, some words on my creative process and experience in developing my comic. In short, it has been transformative. Although I’ve always loved drawing, my impatience to realise a vision and low tolerance of not getting it ‘right’ means I often rush to the finish line. This has been the slowest, most deliberate series of images I've created to date.
I borrowed almost every book on comic drawing from my local library and poured over many graphic novels in my son’s collection. And because I was doing it all by hand, I spent a lot of time planning and making conceptual sketches before the real deal that I inked. I also played around with the layout of panels, text boxes, and speech and thought bubbles.
As for the text, I had it drafted many months before learning I’d been programmed into the festival. The story was inspired by a real life event during a camping trip in January this year that I’d intended to explore as a little graphic non-fiction narrative. I revised the text in an iterative manner, informed by research and conceptual drawings, and once done, I workshopped with my trusty writer friend Tez.
Writing my artist bio was an interesting experience. My inner critic and enabler of imposter syndrome delivered background noise as I wrote my bio, deleted, rewrote and finally committed. Do I sound too earnest? Will I live up to what I claim? Will people see through the self-aggrandisement? But fuck it, I said what I said.
Here are some of the things I learnt in the immersive, intense, instructional process of making my comic, The Persistence of Alarms:
the gutter and layout of a comic impacts aesthetics but also informs narrative coherence, flow, and logic
a HB (or F) pencil is best for erasure without a trail of pencil marks (I used to draw with any old lead pencil, with a devil-may-care approach)
mistakes are okay, really
there’s a lifetime of knowledge to pursue in line and inking techniques (Alphonso Dunn’s workbook will be my next self-paced learning guide)
adequate overhead lighting is a game changer
less is more when it comes to inking a comic (a messy, teary lesson)
a ruler is essential!
a ruler with a built in radius angle is even better!
white gel pens are a crafty way to save a black ink drawing before scanning
photocopying a sketch onto watercolour paper is a thing (but time constraints meant I didn't go there this time)
I want to make more comics!
Raptorial Writes
A monthly writing prompt
Set a timer for 10 minutes and write. Take a deep breath in and a long, slow breath out. Repeat as needed. Write a first person, present tense account of your perfect day, from waking till as far in the day as you get when the timer goes off.
I’d love to know how you go! Post your writing to Instagram using #RaptorialWrites, or feel free to share it in the comments here. Happy writing!
Raptorial Bites
A monthly short story book club
This month’s read is inspired by a New York Times post commemorating the 75th anniversary of Shirley Jackson’s The Lottery.
I’d read Call Me Ishmael for my #100DaysofNewYorkerFiction last year. Although I gave it only three stars, I wrote, ‘This is an early short story of Jackson’s. I haven’t read any of her writing till now but this has made me curious. A super short story that cleverly explores ideas of meaning and being in language. It’s playful, philosophical and intriguing. If it were any longer, I think my mind might have exploded. Excuse me now while I go read the interview with Laurence Jackson Hyman, her son, to get a little more insight on this story.’
Speaking of #100DaysofNewYorkerFiction, I shall repeat the endeavour at some point because auto-renew kicked in before I could cancel, and the avalanche of magazines will now continue to grow for another year.
As per my usual disclaimer, I have a fair bit of catching up to do on stories and discussions, but I hope that one day we can build community in the discussions, with reader meeting reader. You can browse past Raptorial Bites and join conversations at any time — comments remain open on all threads.