
Image: Mike Bowers
Writers of fiction and non-fiction play a crucial role in the everyday experience of what it means to be Australian. Even if you have never picked up an Australian book, seen an Australian play, listened to an Australian song or watched an Australian movie, your life is being shaped by these storytellers.
Stories of diverse experiences from people across our country help us understand who we are. They help us understand our history and our values. These stories shape public thinking and narratives, influencing public norms — and public policy.
Independent writers ventilate what is bubbling under the surface and, through their work, provide an agora for modern Australia. Without the input of creative thinkers, Australia would be duller place. It would be less representative, and less safe.
Why? Because a primary intention of independent writers is to observe and reflect. It is this intentionality that makes their role so essential. Even writers who argue what we should do, rather than simply observe what we do and why we do it, do not hold direct power.
Storytelling by politicians is propaganda. Storytelling by corporations is marketing — convincing us of a problem we don’t have so they can sell us a solution we never needed.
As author Richard Flannagan wrote in the Nine papers:
“Writing, as Franz Kafka, another Jewish writer, put it, is the axe that smashes the frozen sea within. Good writing is never orthodoxy. It is heresy. Writers, if they are doing their work properly, rub against the grain of conventional thinking.”
And what is the reward for independent writers for this crucial national service? Often less than they would get making burgers at McDonalds. Their work is poorly paid, highly insecure, and structurally undervalued. The average income for an Australian author is $18,000, which is well below the poverty line.
As Managing Editor of Australia Institute press, Dr Alice Grundy, pointed out:
“Independent publishers are the ones who most often foster the next generation of literary greats. Without action, we’re set to miss out on the next Tim Winton or Helen Garner.”
The Adelaide Writers’ Week Festival presents writers with a unique opportunity to see their hard work bear fruit. For some, it is a once in a lifetime opportunity. The politically influenced decision of the Board to cancel the appearance of Dr Randa Abdel-Fattah at this year’s event effectively took away this opportunity from almost 100 booked participants.
The decision of the Board was extraordinarily poor. The subsequent boycotting of almost 100 writers was extraordinarily self-sacrificing.
Only the writers themselves know the immediate financial cost they will bear for boycotting the festival. None of us will know the effect, the lost opportunity may have on their future careers.
The decision to cancel Dr Abdel-Fattah ultimately led to the collapse of Writers’ Week. It’s uncertain if it will go ahead in future years. If not, it is one fewer opportunity for our writers to share their thoughts and ideas on a big stage.
Writers perform a crucial national service. For this service they are underpaid and undervalued. The Adelaide Writers’ Week Festival has just made them pay the price for a problem they didn’t create.
If we value what writers do, the least we can do is provide a safe place for them to contribute. Without them, we are lost.