The Chicken Thief - Author Interview

Today I'm taking a bit of a departure from my usual topics. I'm talking to author and blogger, Fiona Leonard about her first novel, The Chicken Thief published to Kindle. Fiona's self-confessed gypsy soul has taken her from a career as an Australian diplomat to foreign and trade policy consultant to freelance writer, blogger, home schooler and author living and writing in Ghana.

Your first novel is an extraordinary ride of emotions, quirky characters and wonderful telling. I found that the voice of the protagonist, Alois, was so strong that I often forgot that it was a white Australian woman who was the author.

How did you find the voice of this young, black African man – a bureaucrat who left his job to be a chicken thief?

Ironically, in many ways Alois (pr: Al-o-is) is a very autobiographical character. I drew on a lot of personal experiences to make his emotions ring true. For example I confess to mining many of my own feelings about being a bureaucrat to help Alois articulate his desire to leap out the window and run away! (I should note I never considered turning to a life of crime though!) To give him an African voice I drew inspiration from African proverbs. Alois uses a lot of proverbs about chickens to explain what’s going on in his life. That language and sentiment gave me a starting point to find my way into his head.

I notice that while the protagonist is a young man, he is surrounded by a group of strong women.

Why did you choose to make the protagonist male? And then surround this young man with so many women?

For a long time I thought about this book as a very male story. And I think when I first started writing it, it was. But then over the years more and more women have appeared in the story. Rose, the love of Alois’ life, stepped out of the shadows very late in the piece, and demanded to have more of a say! I liked being able to use all of the women as a mirror to different aspects of his life.

I tend to come to stories through characters, rather than having a plot I need to fit people into. I had Alois as a character and I had Gabriel, and I was really drawn to both of them. The more I got to know them the more the other characters and the plot grew up around them.

While your novel is set in an unnamed African country, the political machinations are broad enough to for readers to find parallels in other nations.

Where did you find the inspiration for the political events of the novel?

Some of the events are drawn from specific events in southern African history, going back to the Independence struggles. Some were more current, drawn from events that occurred while I was living in Zimbabwe in the late 90s and more recently.

There’s even some Australian political history in there – when I was developing the relationship between the President and his Finance Minister, I often looked to the Howard and Costello machinations for inspiration!

The novel is littered with wonderful images of Africa and Africans that ring true, and contains some terrific metaphors that seem entirely African in their nature.

Do you think there is an international market for such specifically African content?

When you are writing about one country/continent and then marketing it internationally you need to strike a balance between making it true to the setting and also making it accessible to the reader. I like to think that if a reader picks up a book set somewhere unfamiliar then they already have a sense of adventure and curiosity that makes them receptive to exploring somewhere new.

It’s an exciting time to be writing about Africa. With the events unfolding in northern Africa, there is considerable media attention focused on the continent and a genuine interest in the hopes and aspirations of the region

Self-publishing has been around for as long as the publishing industry itself, yet it has been slow to gain mainstream popularity. Despite authors like Oscar Wilde, Irma Rombauer and Christopher Paolini choosing to self-publish, many authors today seem to prefer to duke it out for limited places with large publishing houses.

Why did you choose to go down the self-publication route?

Cold calling has never been my strong suit. I would rather establish a relationship and see what evolves, instead of the first words out of my mouth being ‘please publish my book!’ So I’ve never felt comfortable with pitching to agencies (and have not been particularly good at it to date!). On the other hand, I really believe in this book and wanted to find a way to get it into readers’ hands. E-publishing felt like the right way to achieve that goal.

With so many options for self-publishing available, why have you chosen to e-publish with Kindle?

Quite simply - location, location, location.

Plus, Kindle Direct Publishing makes the mechanics of actually getting your book into the marketplace incredibly easy. There is also a very strong author community behind the scenes at Amazon where authors can exchange ideas and information. That’s an attractive support mechanism when you’re starting out.

Are you planning to publish through other means in the future?

I intend to publish in hard copy later in the year, but that will take a bit more time as it will involve sending proof copies around the world. One of the things I like about Amazon is that they offer print-on-demand, which is great for self-publishing because it means you don’t have to carry your own inventory.

What do you think are the advantages for aspiring authors in e-publishing?

I think pricing is a huge factor. Because you don’t have the overheads that publishing houses have, you can keep the price of your book right down. Many first time authors are e-publishing at $2.99 or lower. This puts you into an accessible price bracket where readers are more willing to take a risk on an unknown author because they can buy a book for the price of a cup of coffee!

I also think being forced to do your own marketing is a fantastic experience. Being your own publicist means you have to be clear about what you are selling and who you are selling to. It’s a steep learning curve but helps you to develop incredibly valuable skills whether you stick to self-publishing or approach publishing houses.

How do you think e-publishing, specifically, is useful to aspiring authors from countries in Africa, Asia and so on – countries outside of what would be considered the western world?

E-publishing, especially through a platform like Amazon, gives you the opportunity to put your writing on a shelf alongside everyone else. You don’t have to wait to be discovered, you can discover yourself! And as long as you have an internet connection, you can do it from anywhere in the world.

Social media also offers an unprecedented marketing opportunity for new authors. Apparently 70% of Facebook users and 60% of Twitter users are outside the US so these really are global platforms that are there to be capitalised on.

If you could go back six years, what advice would you give yourself with regard to writing and publishing?

It’s funny, on one hand I would like to go back and shake myself and say ‘Stop worrying and just write already!’ (with a few expletives thrown in for good measure!) There’s a part of me that is frustrated that I took so long about it. But on the other hand, I think I needed to take six years to write this story. My plot and characters needed time to evolve, I needed to grow as a writer, and I needed to find the burning desire to write.

So perhaps I would say ‘Relax, go live a bit and come back when you’re really ready to enjoy it.’

So what’s next for you? Can we expect to see another novel from you in the near future?

One of the people I had reading drafts of my novel, asked early on in the piece whether there would be a sequel. At the time I had no intention of writing a sequel, but when it came time to write the ending, I specifically left a door open just for her! I will be sitting down to start writing again in a month or so, but whether it’s a sequel, or whether I finish one of the many half written novels I have lying around, I’m not sure yet! Either way, my aim is to have another novel ready to publish by the end of the year.

I’m looking forward to starting on a new novel though. Plotting and writing is the part I really love doing, and I’m itching to get back to it.

I can't wait to see what comes next from this clever author and wish Fiona all the best luck with her current novel. I urge you to head over to Amazon and have a look at The Chicken Thief - with a free sample and at only $2.99, it's a bargain!

Shining a Light in Dark Places

Image via Wikipedia

A Picture of [Mental] Health - Images | Nyani Quarmyne

My amazing photographer friend Nyani Quarmyne has recently done a photo essay and accompanying exhibition on Mental Health in Ghana. The images are evocative, technically stunning and beautifully understated. It's a powerful series of images and the stories behind each of the individuals is tragic. These are people who have been treated in ways we, in developed nations, would consider hideously cruel even for animals.

It reminded me of a story from my own family. My mother's uncle was said to have gone mad after practising a complex form of breathing and stotras in yoga without the guidance of a guru. The story goes that his arrogance led him to believe he was sufficiently versed in the practice of yoga to attempt these techniques unguided. In yoga, there are stotras that can lead either to growth or deterioration. Even those conducted for growth, if done incorrectly, are said to lead to disaster. Apparently, my great uncle thought it wise to defy popular belief and attempt these practices on his own. It led, in turn, to his downfall. The poor man was said to have gone mad and begun attacking those around him including his own family. He was chained to his bed in due course and remained there for many years. His wife was the only one who could enter the room to bring him food. He would attack his own children and the rest of his family could only peer at him through slits in the door as his mental health rapidly deteriorated. Healers were brought to the house and a variety of traditional remedies were tried to no effect. Through all of this, he remained chained, unable to leave the room or even reach the door. Eventually, his attacks diminished, he was deemed cured and released from his chains. But I wonder how he reconciled that period in his life. I wonder if the chaining made him fall further into his mental illness and how he endured that dark period.

It also leads me to ponder how societies deal with deviance from the norm. It would seem that we humans have little tolerance of deviance and little capacity to deal with it in respectful, humane ways. We're getting better at it I guess, but it's definitely a work in progress. The shunning, hiding, disenfranchisement and mistreatment of those with mental health issues is decidedly something to be castigated. But what is the way forward? I believe we can only move forward by shining a light in dark places. This is what I think Nyani is doing with his expose of the conditions endured by those Ghanaians with mental health issues. I hope you'll take the time to look through his powerful work.

Shouting from fast cars...

Catapults ready for firing

I was standing out the front of B1's school earlier this week watching the boys fire their catapults. Now I know you're thinking of little hand-held weaponry or modest structures that fire marbles, but no. These were huge and potentially lethal. They were truly awesome and I think I was saddest of all when they were taken apart.

Anyway, as I was standing out the front of the school waiting for fine adjustments to be made, a car drove past quickly. As it went by, the driver and passenger felt, apparently, an uncontrollable urge to stick their heads out of the windows and shout something. I'd like to say it was a profanity and I was outraged. I'd even settle for being able to say it was words of encouragement for the boys. In truth though, all that could be discerned of the utterance at speed was a primal grunt. It brought to mind a story that LomL had told me about going riding on his bike and being shouted at by passing motorists. I made the mistake of asking what exactly they shouted.... "Baaamaaahmaahbaaa" was the response. LomL's response to my confused looks? "Well that's what it sounded like to me as they drove by".

I always wonder what drivers in these cars are thinking as they shout. Do they expect to be heard clearly? Do they believe that their rants are articulate and clear? Do they not see the looks of utter confusion on the faces of those they're shouting at?

Me and Julia...on the Kindle

Cover of My Life in FranceThanks to my wonderful and much adored Kindle, I had the opportunity to read Julia Child's autobiography, My Life in France. Her writing is both passionate and revelatory. The book is a testament to both her passion for food and the wondrous love and acceptance that existed between her and her husband, Paul. At no point does she exclaim her adoration for him, nor he for her, but throughout the book it is patently evident that theirs was an extraordinary love story, filled with complete respect for each other. They obviously gave each other the space to be exactly who they were.

I had previously seen the film Julie and Julia and had fallen deeply in love with Julia Child through Meryl Streep's portrayal of her. The autobiography has only served to enhance that. Mrs Child's telling of her story is charming and humble. Her enthusiasm and wide-eyed wonderment at all she encounters is positively infectious and her humility at what both she and her husband achieved is, in itself, humbling. She is truly inspiring and has become something of a hero for me. I love how she conveys both her passion for and determination to master food (particularly French cuisine) and the extraordinarily subtle way in which her adoration for Paul intertwines itself throughout her story.

The story fills me with passion for food and a terrible wanderlust. This was a woman long before her time. A pioneer in her own way and definitely an exceptional advocate for strong women everywhere. I love her descriptions of herself and her sister. What a accepting family she was raised in. One that placed almost no importance on beauty and a great deal on learning. I like Mrs Child. If I could have a dinner with anyone, past or present, she'd be at my table and we'd be sniffing and tasting everything and comparing notes to try out recipes later.

Another bit from a story I'm working on...

This is a section of the story I particularly love...

Acha had left Kerala as a young man of 24, with a bachelor's degree, a little work experience as a taluk officer and five hundred rupees in his pocket. He had gone directly to Malaysia. Acha's oldest sister had married a man from Malaysia and Acha was convinced that he would have better prospects of finding a job and helping his own father to support the family there. Acha was determined and clever. He changed his accent by teaching himself English using the pronunciation guides inside the Random House Dictionary. He applied to become an English teacher and quickly gained his certification. It didn't take him long to secure himself a job first at the technical college and then at the University teaching English Literature. Pretty soon, his younger brother joined him in Malaysia. They were gregarious men and quickly made friends with the other bachelor teachers there. This was the part of Acha's life Sumi knew so little about. There were tantalising snippets of stories, beer and pigeon hunting, billiards and wild boar, fishing and crabbing and a care-free existence. Acha rarely spoke about these times, and when he did, Amma seemed to sense it somewhere deep in her soul. She would magically materialise and Acha would clam-up. No amount of prodding or cajoling on Sumi or Shalu's part would get him to open up again. Sumi liked to think of this time in Acha's life as his secret treasure box. The treasure he kept guarded from everyone - even Amma. The part of himself that was truly him. The only part of himself that he didn't share with Amma.

Fairy Princesses and GI Joes

Image by Cayusa via FlickrI was reading a blog today by Candace Lindemann about our progressive move as a society to limit the choices of aspirational goal/hero for our girls and it set alarm bells ringing for me. I've long thought that the choices we offer girls is woeful. In no way is this the fault of parents. When there is little variety on offer, there is little scope for parents to make choices that don't disenfranchise their children from friendships or exclude them from the norm. And we all want to fit in. Next time you go clothes shopping, turn the aisle into the children's section and take a peek at what's on offer for girls. Though not a parent of girls, I do have a niece and do periodically wander bug-eyed and bamboozled through the array of attire for girls. I'm constantly horrified. If it's not pink, frilly and princess-like, then it's something that's too adult, too revealing and positively salacious. Something that in my worst, most critical moments I think of as appropriate work wear for a full-body masseuse. These are not the clothes I wore as a child. Especially since I was the classic tomboy, happier up a tree or playing with my train set or cars in the sand than playing at fairy princess. Don't get me wrong, I loved the idea of magic and witches, but I was always more attracted to the darker side - Macbeth is still my favourite of Shakespeare's plays and the weird sisters, Hecate and Lady M are my favourite characters. I love these women. They are strong and wilful and ambitious. They live their lives as they please (in the case of the witches) and don't let any men tell them what to do. But pink and frilly was never me... and low-cut, leopard print and lustrous nails are not my idea of the alternative.

Image via WikipediaSo having vented my spleen on the pitiful choices available for our young girls, let me turn to what's on offer for boys. I started my parenting adventure believing that I was going to be different. I would raise children who didn't feel the need to conform to the norm. I would provide my boys with as many alternatives as possible and nothing was off limits. The toy room was filled with cars, trucks, planes, soft toys and dolls. Many many dolls. Of many many skin colours and national dress. Despite the concerned looks from LomL and the obvious discomfort of the in-laws, I persisted. Thank goodness for a loving family that support me in all my mad schemes. My baby boys were dressed in bright, happy colours. Bright blues, greens, yellows, purples and even pinks adorned them regardless of the tutt-tutts and dire warnings of retinal damage from all the older Aunties in the community. Not a single pastel passed my boys' bodies. And I was proud of the start I was giving them. Vibrant, full of choices to be who they wanted, uninhibited by the demands of peer pressure or societal norms, accepted always. But the baby stage doesn't last long. Pretty soon my boys grew into toddlers and the cute baby suits in bright colours had to be replaced with more age-appropriate clothing. But what was on offer? Gone were the bright colours. Gone were the purples and pinks. Gone were the sex-neutral baby suits. Replaced with khaki greens, navy blues, browns, blacks and greys. The colour and wonder of babyhood was rapidly replaced by an increasingly dull, monotonous (and it really did look like one tone when you squinted), drab wardrobe. This was depressing for me. It made me wonder whether this would start my children down the path of becoming another depressed teen boy statistic. Is this how it starts? In tiny, drab, monotonous choices? Do we wear our boys into depression by making them wear the colours of it? Perhaps I'm being a little hysterical, but for me colour and music are always key catalysts for my mood.

And what of the choices of toys to play with? Gone were the options for dolls and soft toys. That was all very well when they were babies, but now it was time for them to be proper little boys. Flooding in came trains large and small, planes and automobiles. I held off on the weaponry for as long as I could, but it was like holding back a tidal wave. Once the first knife appeared, it was quickly followed by bows and arrows, spears and eventually my greatest hurdle, guns. I finally gave up on resisting guns in the house when my boys started making guns out of sticks, coloured markers and even toast. I had to admit defeat. They had been enculturated and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't blame the media entirely since we didn't watch a lot of TV and what we did watch was almost exclusively on the non-commercial broadcaster or on video. But I realised quickly that I couldn't keep them away from the inevitable draw of the blinking box forever. So what was the alternative? Send them uncritical, unquestioning to face the onslaught of sophisticated and insidious marketing on commercial television? That was not an option I cared to consider. Instead, we've watched TV with our kids, commenting on the advertisements as they appear. We critique them, talk about how they make us feel, examine whether or not we want to buy the product and why. We talk critically about marketing strategies, times of the day that certain advertisements appear and why. We listen to the music used and explore why that choice was made. We talk about the choice of actors or characters in the advertisements. All in all we aim to make our children critical viewers of the media images they're exposed to.

I don't think it's realistic to believe we can shelter them from all advertising forever. So instead, I'd rather aim for developing a sense of critical viewing of the advertising and an awareness of what it's trying to do. I hope that this will equip them to protect themselves from being led, nose-first into making poor financial and life choices.

Some more personal writing

I'm working on many projects at the moment. This should come as no surprise to those of you who know me. I'm notorious for juggling many balls in the air at the same time... or as my mother would say starting a million things and never finishing anything.


So instead of my usual rant about a random topic, here's an unedited (very raw) section of a story I'm working on.

Every day of Sumi’s childhood was laced with some mention of Amma’s dream. It could be as innocuous as Amma showing Sumi how to cook fish molee and throwing in an unconscious comment about how she would cook that dish for her husband one day. Rarely did Amma overtly say to her girls that she expected them to have an arranged marriage. It was assumed by everyone in the house. So much so that Sumi had not even thought to fight the idea. She had always assumed that that was how her life would pan out. She never questioned that that was what she wanted too.

Sumi had never disappointed her parents. She went to Bharata Natyam classes because Amma had not had the opportunity in her childhood. As it turned out, Sumi excelled in dance class. She quickly became the teacher’s pet and with Amma’s strict overseeing of her practice sessions, she learned more and more complex dances. She learnt to swim because Amma had not. She went to Carnatic singing classes because Amma had missed that opportunity. She learned the violin at school because Amma had always wanted to learn a musical instrument. And in all of this, she was expected to bring home nothing but As on her school report. Acha was a teacher and had been a brilliant student in his time, so he would accept nothing less.

She had started uni with high expectations of continuing her demonstrated academic performance to date. She hadn’t expected to be distracted by boys and knew she was perfectly capable of having a friendship with a boy that didn’t automatically transform into a relationship. She’d watched friends fall into and out of some teenage approximation of love all through the summer holidays and knew it wasn’t for her. She was a sensible, practical young woman and had no intentions of finding herself entangled in some tawdry, love-lorn liaison. But then, she had not expected to encounter someone quite like Michael.