Transcriber: Elise LECAMP Reviewer: Elisabeth Buffard
Imagine you were 21.
Perhaps you're lucky enough to know exactly what's your going to do,
and how you're going to do it.
But, if you are anything like me,
the only thing you really feel you know how to do properly
is make noodles. (Laughter)
What I really want to be is a writer.
But that seems impossible.
There are instructions at the back of a noodle packet.
But there are no instructions for how to make a writer.
Then I hear on a science podcast, that the only reason
we have a sense of self is our ability to create narrative.
This makes sense to me.
Stories are the most important things in my life.
They are my memories,
they're how I imagine the future,
they're what distinguishes strangers from the people I love.
I decide I have to become a writer.
And the only way to do it is to write all the time.
Surely, if I do it everyday
I'll pick-up a few things.
So I do a test run.
I write 24 hours live at the National Young Writers Festival
asking people to send in their prompts.
I pitch it as extreme writing.
I want to be the Bear Grylls of the literary world.
(Laughter)
It's a huge rush, and straight off the back of that
I start designing 365-day challenge.
I'm going to write one story, everyday, for a year.
But, like New Year's resolutions or flossing, I'm worried
that I'm not actually going to keep it up. (Laughter)
And so, I need someone to enforce the challenge.
So, I tell the Internet what I'm doing.
Because that thing never sleeps.
And then, I write, on Christmas,
on my birthday,
at a wedding in India,
with a high fever,
at Ikea,
atop a waterfall,
in a front row of gigs,
at Woolies and even up a tree.
Some days I love it, other days I mash my face into the keyboard.
But I never give up.
And this is where I learn my first big lesson.
That rules and challenges are really useful for inspiration.
It's sounds counter-intuitive
but I have been writing for 246 days now
and I never worry about running out of inspiration anymore.
And the rules are forcing me to do things that I would never have done before.
I carve words into candles, scratch them onto seedpods,
write poetry on people's hands and trace words in the sands
after facing my fear of swimming in the ocean.
I leave my stories in libraries, on cars and in sushi trains.
I eat my words on toast,
I read them in the mirror
and I even set them free on paper airplanes
Someone even sends me their real diary entry
and a pack of fun photos as inspiration.
And then something else happening too,
I'm making connections with lots of really interesting people.
Some of them are strangers off the streets
and other people are incredible writers and mentors
from London to Australia, who I previously considered
mysterious out-of-reach creatures.
On day 58, someone asked me to write a story
and send it to a stranger's letter box.
I immediately start thinking about this house, which is a few streets away,
and it has this fence made of knobbly old tree branches.
Even though it's grey and gnarled,
there is something alive about it and I'm fascinated.
Every time I drive past, I have to crane my neck to get a better look.
So, I quickly write a story inspired by the said fence
and I drive over to drop it off.
I can hear that there is people there,
so I try to do it as quickly as possible.
When I get home, it's been totally thrilling and I just can't sleep.
I keep wondering if they've seen it.
9pm, 10pm, 11pm, there is still no word from them.
But just before I go to bed, and I'm just about to give up on the whole thing,
I decide to check my Facebook one last time.
I doubt that they'd send a message in the middle of the night,
but there it is.
"We just received your beautiful letter,
my partner always has this strange habit
of checking the mail box at odd hours of the night,
even though it's always been delivered.
Now it seems his search of the empty letter box has been fruitful !"
(Laughter))
The next morning, I get this picture of them.
It turns out that the lady who lives there is an artist
who is transforming the house into a gallery.
And about a month or so later,
I'm sitting in the house that has fascinated me for so long,
writing a story at her exhibition.
And this is where I learn my second big lesson:
that inspiration is sparked by others.
Writing doesn't have to be about locking yourself away and growing a crazy beard.
(Laughter)
My project has been as much about people as it has been about writing.
And asking strangers to collaborate with me is risky and nerve-racking
but they nearly always respond in a generous and exciting way
which I can't anticipate.
And...
the more I make these connections, the more connections I seem to attract.
On day 3, I write a story inspired by a TED-Ed Talk.
On day 129, rather, I wrote a story
inspired by a stranger called Haley Bartholomew
Today, I'm giving a TEDx Talk alongside Haley Bartholomew
And stories are still the most important thing in my life.
I haven't gotten sick of them.
And this has led me to believe
that if there is something you think is important,
whether be it science, painting, cooking, whatever it is,
the most important thing to do is
do it whenever you can, wherever you can,
for whoever you think will enjoy it most.
And perhaps this won't always be in a lab or for a gallery, or tasted by a foody.
Perhaps the person that's going to enjoy it most is your idol
who inspired you or the person sitting next to you right now
or the strangers in a park.
Today is day 246, and I've been writing for 2 ...
er, sorry, I only have 3 months of my challenge to go,
or 120 stories.
And I really wanted to share some of my imagination with you here live today.
But you can have to share some of yours too.
When I was little, I loved to make up words.
For example, "Fingo" which meant "to stomp".
Which is why I really want to write today's story in a new language.
One that you are going to make up.
I'm challenging you to think about a new word,
write it down alongside its definition,
and then pin it to the board during morning tea,
which we are just about to have.
Then I'm going to take as many of those words as possible,
and weave them into a story.
Together we're going to imagine a TEDxQUT dictionary,
which I'll make available at the end of the day alongside my story.
And this is where my talk ends but my extreme writing adventure continues.
I hope you'll join me but for now,
it's time for my finally "fingo" from the stage.
(Applause)