changes

Mentor: So you decided to stay put? 

Man: I received a call from the publisher I sent my MS to, much earlier than I expected, and he expressed interest, and talked about editors and the possibility of a contract, and as you can imagine this was all a bit overwhelming. It seemed that my brilliant career had begun. Naturally this made me rethink the Sydney or interstate thing, but on reflection I decided I should go interstate, because I still needed a shake-up, and the editing and the contractual stuff could surely be managed by mail, email and so forth. In fact, this news meant that I could go forth on an interstate adventure with a modicum of confidence - unusual for me. So, I waited for the news from interstate, fully expecting to have a choice of places. The responses trickled in, and they were all negative. Nobody wanted me. I considered contacting them again to tell them I now had a publisher, but that wasn't official, and I wondered if maybe that info wouldn't be more negative than positive for my chances. Better for their rep to take on newbies and guide them to greatness than to take on someone already guaranteed publication. Where would be the kudos in that? But the final nail in the coffin of my interstate dream came in the form of another call from the publisher. He asked me how I was off financially and suggested I apply for a state grant, letting it be known that he might be able to use his influence... This made it seem more clear to me that my book would be published, but I realized that if I applied for a state grant, it would tie me, morally if not physically, to the granting state. Forces were conspiring to keep me in South Australia. I applied for a grant, and was successful.

Mentor: And Zelda was in the loop about all this?

Man: Oh yes. I mean, she was privy to the confusion and provisionality of my plans. Let me see now. I moved in with Zelda in October 1995, and it might be that I'd already started writing to creative writing courses before that. I must have sent my MS to the publisher in late 95 and received a call within a couple of weeks. I received an arts grant for either the first half or the second half of 96. Probably in the second half but I was informed about it in the first half. I was thirty-nine years old, and it was all happening for me. I felt rejuvenated. No doubt my relationship with Zelda benefitted from that. I was lively, enthusiastic, confident, open-hearted, gregarious, more like the sort of person I'd always wanted to be. You see, to be recognised as a writer, that had been my great desire for so long, it had so shaped my existence that I was almost beginning to think it a burden, a weight I'd been forcing myself to carry around, wearing me out, making me crabbed and anxious, unappreciated and vaguely ashamed. At last I felt accepted and released, I'd come out in a sense, and on top of this, rarety of rareties, I was in an actual relationship, with an actual woman, and had become an accepted part of her community, in from the cold.