The hours fly

Have been hypermotivated all week. I have even cleaned out my top drawer (full of postcards and letter stationery) and my second drawer (full of receipts, some of them for tax purposes) and felt pretty proud of myself.

I was supposed to also prep my tax return instead of just sorting receipts but I have recently signed up to Quickflix on my parents' 'two months free' bonus card and Thursday night happened to be the day the second disc of the Monty Python doco 'Almost the Truth' arrived.

Friday was an exceptional day: took the car back to Wintergreen (filled it with petrol and went through a drive-thru carwash on the way), buried the Bokashi scraps in the backyard, came home and tidied up and then played cards with Boff, Dina, and Robert.

Also had a great long weekend. I forget that other states don't have the Labour Day long weekend, at least not on the same Monday as NSW. As usual, I spent it up at Newcastle for This Is Not Art. I believe I have done this every year since 2000 (except 2005 when I was overseas) with a variety of companions and have never regretted it.

I didn't feel like I went to many panels this year, but here's a summary of what I got up to:

Words that sell: About successful freelancing. Unfortunately didn't tell me anything I didn't already know so I'm just going to have to figure out this sole trader business for myself.

How to get along with your editor or writer: Interesting exchange of anecdotes and a few tips for working with both. Should be helpful for both my day job and my future career as a novelist.

I'm a writer but nothing's ever happened to me: "Life doesn't have to be exciting to be interesting."

Breaking the rules: Writing exercises for tangential thinking. But, as Boff said, "It didn't actually break any rules."

I should have read that by now: Essentially a help group for people who think they should read certain things. Cure: recognise you're an individual and that you have individual reading tastes.

Three: Radio play done specifically incorporating visual performance. Too poetic to be a cohesive narrative...

Authenticity vs Experience: Promised to be a helpful panel for YA novelists trying to capture a YA voice but strayed off-topic quite a bit. Picked up a couple of tips and was quite entertained by the rest of it.

Spelling Bee: Oh god. Boff put my name in the jar and I was up first round. Came third in the end (beating last year's winner Geoff Lemon!). Words I had to spell to get there: 'brooch', 'jurisprudence', 'euchre' and (the one I didn't get because I've never encountered it before) 'abecedarian'. Minor fame ensued. In between rounds they did a 'Who am I?' with dinosaurs and Boff managed to win a schooner of beer, which he gave to me (mistake). He and Mr Newcastle also argued about paleontology. Sigh.

So you think you can pitch? Straightforward advice about pitching to a publishing house.

Bio Bootcamp: Don'ts for writing an author bio.

In between, Boff and I took a look at the Newcastle Mattara Art Prize exhibition, which was at a church between our accommodation (The Oriental; nice place, I'd stay there again for sure) and the main TINA venues. I saw a painting I really liked and found out it was $350 and was considering buying it... and then Boff bought it for me. I had to carefully bring it home on the train with me. It was really very sweet of him. (The painting he liked best was more than $7,500!).

Also coaxed him up to The Obelisk for the obligatory bird's eye view of Newcastle, and the annual trek I make out to Nobbys Head. We missed the American Gothic Ball on Saturday night because we ended up having a late dinner at Nagisa (Japanese restaurant; sushi rice was way too soft) and also because we'd had a very early morning.

Actually, I need to brag about that. We woke up at 6.30am and left at what I thought was 7.10am for the 7.21am train to Hornsby to connect with the Newcastle train. We missed the train. Not by much, but we missed it. I resigned myself to the fact that we would just have to get into Newcastle an hour later. We caught the next train, which was to Hornsby via Epping, then realised that the Newcastle train stopped at Epping too. We agreed to dash to the platform and hope for the best; research indicates that the Newcastle train was due to arrive at Epping at 7.46am and that the train we were on was due to arrive at 7.48am. By some miracle our train was slightly ahead and the Newcastle train was slightly behind and we made it. Best train story ever.

I had a really good time. A couple of weeks ago, Boff dropped the 'l' word and I found it easier to lie and reciprocate than admit that I wasn't quite there yet, but after spending a weekend like this with him, I can truly say I love him. Maybe not forever, but certainly for the time being.