Most of my friends, coworkers, and family
know I’m obsessed with pirates. Check my internet search history and it comes
up with things like ‘frigate breadth’ and ‘carracks vs caravels’, and ‘how to
cook salamagundy’. I’m doing an Honours
thesis on pirates in pre-modern England, and I’m working on a pirate novel. My
favourite historical figure is the wild and wonderful Grace O’Malley.
I think I am drawn to pirates because I am
their complete opposite. I am indoors-y and bookish, and my adventures are
mostly confined to the page. In spite of my love of ships, I am most assuredly
not a sailor.
A dear friend of mine – an American artist
named Kristin Lane – is familiar with my pirate obsession, and she encourages
it shamelessly. A few years ago, she asked me what flag is flown by the pirates
in my novel. I described a red flag with a black rose, modelled off the Tudor
rose. To my delight, some months later Kristin sent me a small canvas panel
with the design painted on it. She had also added a little something of her
own, saying:
“The red is easy to see from a distance,
but the black wouldn’t be so contrasting. The white not only draws the eye and
makes the design more readable, but also serves a purpose. White is fresh, new,
pure, and unused. The longer the flag flies, the more weathered and discoloured
it gets. I took this principle from early martial arts training. Before they
started dyeing the belts you only had one which would get dirtier and dirtier
the more you trained. This is why we go from white belt to black belt.”
I keep the flag on my desk. It reminds me
of the journey my pirate captain must make. When she starts to sail she is untried,
uncertain, and unprepared for the responsibility of a ship and crew. By the end
of the novel, she must know where she stands on the deck, and she must know
what she stands for. The centre of her flag must go from white to black.
Like my captain, I’m new to the business;
my debut novel is being released this year. The canvas panel, with white
blazing in the centre, reminds me of how far I have to go. I have a lot to
learn, and a lot of work still to do. Moreover, the flag helps me to deal with
all the things that are so daunting to a newcomer in the world of professional
writing. The flag enables me to see the late nights, early mornings, weeks of
solitude, rejection letters, deleted drafts, and rewrites not as failures – but
as weathering. Evidence that I can sail.
Meg
Caddy has a BA in English Literature and History from the University of Western
Australia, and is currently writing an Honours dissertation on pirates. In
2013, her YA fantasy novel Waer was shortlisted for the
Text Prize, which led to a contract with Text Publishing. Meg was the 2013
Young Writer-in-Residence at the Katharine Susannah Prichard Writers’ Centre.
Her short story ‘Amphibian Summer’ was
shortlisted for the Questions Writing Prize, and her poetry has been
shortlisted for the Ethel Webb Bundell Poetry Prize. In 2014, her poem
‘Tiddalik’ was published in the 2015 Poetry d’Amour anthology.
For the past five
years, Meg has been working with children of all ages. She is passionate about
storytelling, cooking, pirates, and lizards.
Website: www.megcaddy.com
Twitter:
@MegCaddy1
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2 comments:
How wonderful to have a supportive friend to make you such a lovely gift. PS I think if your internet search history is not sufficiently strange, they cut up your WRITER card.
Great post Meg, nice to see you spreading your wisdom around the internet.
Gorgeous post. Love the metaphor.
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