It’s roughly four weeks to publication day. My novel The Hidden will then wing its way to my
readers, the wonderful people who have either pre-ordered it (thank you, thank you,
thank you) or who have won it in my Goodreads Giveway (thank you, thank you,
thank you for entering the competition – it will be on its way to you in late
October).
In the weeks leading up to publication I am mentally cowering inside
my mind at the altar of my readers. To me, they are EVERYTHING!! I will owe
them my life. If this sounds a little dramatic, let me try and explain why it’s
not.
There are millions of talented writers out there, and millions of avid readers clamouring to read a good story. Anyone who decides to
invest their time in reading my story immediately becomes my hero, because they
could so easily choose another writer over me.
This sounds black and white but
it’s a fact. By reading my story, they are entering the world of my mind, they
are joining me in a place that’s special to me – the sanctuary of my mind - a
place where I seek to understand this world, understand the people in it, and
try and untangle all the issues that confuse me about this life.
My readers
might not like what they find there. My story might make them feel
uncomfortable, but if the opposite is true and it inspires them and takes them
away to a place where they can find some liberation from the day-to-day, we
will live this momentary journey together, and become friends forever.
My story The Hidden
was written at a time when I was caged by a devastating set of emotional,
geographical and financial circumstances which took me to the edge of my
strength. Writing The Hidden was an
attempt to control the world of my mind when my physical world was
disintegrating.
The Hidden’s three
main characters Taha Farouk, Hezba al-Shezira and Aimee Ibrahim are all caged
by issues of nationality, the sins of their ancestors and geography. They are
all ‘up against it’. They are all looking for answers in a world that doesn’t
make sense anymore (1919 Cairo, Egypt when the Nationalist riots were destroying
the city of Cairo, Egypt, and in 1940 when the Second World War was threatening to
destroy them once again).
Hezba, a Muslim, and daughter of the Sultan of Egypt, was
married at the age of 11, but at the age of 17 she takes a lover and joins a
terrorist organisation, determined to crush the British control of Egypt. She
is caged by her sex; as a woman the physical boundaries of the harem at her
palace and by the strict confines of her religion which she chooses to question to the very full extent of her power. She chooses to defy every
one of these sets of boundaries and charts the course of life as a free, determined
woman, set on living the life she wants for herself.
Aimee Ibrahim, her daughter, feels rootless in a city that
offers her no answers. The brutal murder of her husband Azi propels her into a
dark and seedy world of terrorism and espionage and changing landscapes.
Nothing makes sense.
Taha Farouk’s band of terrorist activists is planning a
revolution to end all revolutions. They want a new Egypt, free from the grip of
the king and all who serve him. But Farouk is obsessed with the murder of one man, and won't rest until he's scored the ultimate revenge for past wrongs.
My story was written at a time when I needed to inhabit
another world. Every day I stepped through the door to early 20th century
Egypt and left my tiny, rented Australian (Melbourne) cottage behind. I left motherhood temporarily behind
every day to live with my characters as they moved through the terrifying chain
of events that took place in The Hidden.
By living with them, living through them, I was able to deal
with my own fear, my own anxiety, my own sense of failure, my own utter devotion to
my children, my utter terror at what was happening to me, my own chronic anxiety that I had no future in a society that was corporate, afflicted by consumerism and ownership and which didn't give two shits about creative people like me. I had my own issues of nationality to deal with. I knew I didn't belong. Aimee felt she didn't belong. Hezba didn't want to belong, not to the royalty of her heritage, but to the desert land of the fellahin. That's where she felt most comfortable.
The Hidden is a
tragic story but Aimee, Hezba and Farouk are fighters. They do terrible things
and terrible things are done to them, but within them is the essence of
goodness. They are ‘real’ fictional characters and they were my friends for a
very long time.
Which gets me back to my readers; those people to who I owe a massive
debt of gratitude; for taking time for my story, for buying my novel, for
connecting with me, for sharing their thoughts, for walking with me in
the city of Cairo and in Egypt in 1919 and 1940.
My characters are vulnerable, and they reveal the extent of
my own vulnerability. But it’s vulnerability that drives me, and which drives them.
The intimate depth of humanity fascinates me, not showiness, not surface stuff,
not over-loud proclamations of affluence and elitism. Vulnerability and strength
are a mesmerising mix.
Thank you for reading my blog and please, please connect
with me on social media any which way you choose – www.jochumas.com - I will answer any writing questions you might have.
Here’s to you all. In your vulnerability, I hope you find the strength you need.
Warm wishes,
Jo
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