Kia ora, writing and gardening have lot in common – you do the preparation, consider what to plant, where to plant it, what kind of structure – is the style cottage or sculptured?
When I made this garden I put a lot of plants and bushes in the ground, tended them with great care, bought things recklessly on whim; they all grew. I thought about what it would look like when it grew up and became a garden instead of some dug over ground with plants here and there. Naturally I over-planted. Anyone who tells you they didn’t over plant when they set up their garden has either developed amnesia or is lying.
I’ve spent the last couple of years cutting things back, digging them out, replacing the ones that didn’t work or got too big for the garden. Tried and failed to curb my visits to garden centres.
This last year I’ve written a novel and the same things happened. I chucked a few things in that were later dug out, rearranged some things, changed a lot, tended it carefully, looked in on it every day, sometimes just to say hello. Thought about it all the time.
I lived with the characters, imagined all sorts of scenarios, some of which made it to the page and made lots of incremental discoveries while I was playing around with the characters.
The difference between the garden and the novel is that people could see the garden-in-progress and make comments, all encouraging and admiring. The same people have passed the garden now for five years and still stop and tell me they remember the before and after.
The novel is exactly the opposite. I didn’t show it to anyone until I thought it was ready although I discussed the story and the characters with a friend, another playwright and poet. There’s always going to be a production of a play in the Vogel Place novels and this means I have to know the particular play very well, work out what the production will be like, the set, everything, just like I would if I was actually directing it. So I discussed those ideas too.
I thank my first readers Mandy Hager and Sarah Delahunty whose rigour is scary but also very welcome and absolutely essential. And an extra thanks to Sarah for the cover photo of her cockatiel, aka Jason. Thanks to Miriam Richardson, WednesdayBusk’s resident magician, who makes sure the words are actually on these pages – she waves her wand and lo, magic happens. Thanks to all the poets and writers who said yes when I asked them for a poem or an interview, your generosity touches my heart, thanks to you, the reader, for your time and your messages and comments – and your smiles when I meet up with you somewhere – I think you’ll like Harriet as much as you like Hester, who pops into Once Bitten occasionally.
Now Once Bitten is out of the nest and flying and I’m thinking of the next one. And spring is here and I’m thinking of what to plant in the garden. And so it goes…
