There a place in the artist’s heart where all things are bearable, no matter how terrible, where experience is sifted through, consecrated, hallowed and transformed into something we call art.
Ever since I began writing some twenty years or so years ago, I have been fascinated by literary form, function and structure. I have written many short stories in which I have experimented with the architecture of words on the page and I often find myself visualizing the story as one might imagine a painting or even a sculpture. I find metaphor is such an ally in the craft of writing. In my debut novel "The Hard Seed", I have attempted to construct a writerly shape which would imitate the central theme of the novel - trauma. I also enjoyed working with the motif of the seed and the rose hip which is so beautifully illustrated in the pages of the novel by visual artist Julie Andrews.
Like many women writers before me, I gather bits and pieces of life, the lint, leaves, rags and string of experience and dreams and use them to create stories which reflect a position in and experience of the world, which is often different than that of men. Likewise, in my writing of these stories, I have used, re-visioned and embroidered my own experience, enmeshed with observations from everyday life and insights from my reading. For me, in both writing and reading, what I look for above all else is an emotional rather than a historic truth because, as we all know, facts come and go. I have little regard for facts because fiction is not constructed from facts but is always a work of the creative imagination.