White People Like Writers Festivals, and other stories

This weekend just gone Fairlie and I spent 50 hours at the Sydney Writers' Festival*. This is the fourth SWF I've attended, the second with Fairlie schlepping up to Sydney to stop me from being a sad lonely housewife sitting by myself in the back row.

Christos Tsiolkas (The Slap) in conversation with Leigh Sales

After listening to Christian Lander, internet celebrity and founder of http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/, tell us that white people like yoga, adopting babies from exotic locations and moleskine notebooks I looked around me and decided that white people also like going to writers festivals. I would've pointed this out, however with 60 million hits to his blog since he started it on January 18, 2008 (!) I'm sure someone else has already done this.

The sheep races where one lines up for the free events.

This year's SWF was seriously good. Fairlie and I saw eleven sessions over our 50 hours and I don't think there was a dud among them. Fairlie was a little suspicious when I dragged her along to Marcus Chown talk about his book Quantum Theory Cannot Hurt You, and was a little bemused that I wanted to listen to a controversial geopolitical futurist tell us that America will dominate the world stage for the next 100 years. But what's not to love about a guy who can talk about String Theory in words of one syllable and a former military strategist who when told he might need a gun while riding in Montana just happened to have one on his person.

Book signing station at the Heritage Pier

Over the two days we covered the First Fleet, astronomy, parenting, music in literature, blogging, the middle classes, theatre, truth in writing, murder, quantum theory and the hazards of filming in North West Pakistan. I ensured that Gleebooks would survive the GFC by buying 11 books and I practised my patented queuing technique for getting an author's signature toute suite. My most excellent queuing technique was of particular use when I managed to beat a hoard of fellow bookclubbers to the line to get my copy of The Slap signed and thereby managed to get not only a signature but a between session snack as well.

Conversation stage at the Sydney Theatre, Walsh Bay

The one thing Fairlie and I never learn is to ensure that we have sufficient breaks in the day for food. With half and hour between sessions which are usually taken up with book signing and walking to the next venue we mostly ate quickly, and on the run. I have never eaten so many apples in one weekend.

Daily run sheet, and sold out events

For an excellent rundown on the book highlights of the festival click over to Fairlie's blog. My only addition to her list would be Quantum Theory Cannot Hurt You. Unlike Fairlie I don't yawn at the thought of String Theory or singularities. Baffled perhaps. But interested.

Having been a long time supporter of the Melbourne Writer's Festival* I finally declare that in 2009 Sydney has surpassed its rival. Sydney's festival is fun, easy, atmospheric and full of quality sessions both free and ticketed. I look forward to the Melbourne festival in September but it has a lot to live up to.

*I've placed the apostrophes where the individual festivals choose to place them in each instance.

...break in transmission...

My apologies for a break in transmission. It appears that life has got in the way of blogging, and that simply won't do.

First, this paid work caper has completely interfered with my lifestyle. How dare paid employment not only take up hours of my time but also stay in my brain during the hours that I am not at the workplace. I'm assured that this will improve with time and that soon I will wonder into work like a mindless drone and it won't hurt a bit.

Second, how dare my part-time job involve travel. Some people like travel in their work because it provides variety and the opportunity to stay in a nice hotel. Me? Just means I have to pack stuff, sit on aeroplanes and make complicated arrangements for the care of my children. It also seems that my employer prefers crappy hotels.

Third, my dear maternal grandmother passed away. This should really have come first on my list but I'm whining in order, so bear with me. Last Thursday night I flew to Perth for her funeral on Friday. Mama, as we called her, was 94 and had lived a long full life so it was nice to be at a funeral that celebrated a life rather than mourned a tragedy. I gave a Eulogy on behalf of the grandchildren, and in a last minute decision, was a pallbearer, in heels. Those of you who are regular readers may remember that my paternal grandmother died in January so I am now officially grandparent-less.

Fourth, at 8am Sunday morning, having flown in late the night before I was on duty at my daughter's Band Camp up in Narabeen. Luckily a fellow parent drove me because I may have fallen asleep at the wheel.

I'm away interstate for the last half of this week but on Friday I'm looking forward to a visit from Fairlie who is coming to stay for the weekend for the Sydney Writers Festival. We have a full weekend of sessions to attend and I hope to be able to report on those next week.

What do you do? I'm a mother.

When we moved to Sydney five years ago I had a consulting business and three days of work a week lined up. However, after arriving here with a little girl who was about to start school and a little boy about to start pre-school I decided that my time was best spent with my children rather than a demanding client.

I thought it was fabulous. I got involved in the new school and the new pre-school, I got to know my new city and I was around the school enough to form strong friendships which helped me settle into a new city.

And then that question started to raise its ugly head at social gatherings - "What do you do?" Now you know the answer that is expected is what paid work do you do. Like...

I'm in publishing, or

I work with [insert CBD firm of choice], or

I'm in real estate [this is Sydney after all]

At first I found myself saying "I used to be in Human Resources but I'm taking a break". I was cross at the question being asked because I couldn't answer with a suitably corporate-sounding response.

And then I got over myself. Completely over myself. Soon I was proudly saying "I'm a mother". Not in any meek way but in the same way that you might imagine someone saying "I'm the CEO of fancy ASX-listed company of choice". I felt much better.

Now that I have been back in paid work for a week I've been contemplating how I would answer that question now. I hope when next asked that I will still say "I'm a mother".

Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful mothers out there. May you put motherhood right at the top of your CV.

Who won?

Congratulations to Duyvken for winning a 100% cotton hand-crocheted washcloth in my 2 year Blogiversary giveaway. You win my first ever crocheted washcloth.

Since then I have been experimenting with colour and size and prefer them to my knitted washcloths.

I feel like I've won something with this beautiful hand-dyed sock yarn that I purchased from Suse at Pea Soup. I will soon start knitting a pair of socks for me rather than someone else.

Practising outside before the Eisteddfod. Note the socks over the ballet shoes!

And Blossom should've won her section at the Eisteddfod today, or nearly won. At least I think so. She was one mark off a Highly Commended but her biased mother thought she was robbed. When she danced I swear you could've heard a pin drop in the auditorium.