Isolation epidemic

Liminal space: An interview with Maggie Hamilton

Maggie Hamilton’s latest book When We Become Strangers has come at a time when the questions it poses are at a critical juncture, due to COVID-19 and the state of culture in 2021. Maggie was due to appear at the cancelled 2021 Byron Writers Festival; here she discusses her new work and looks back on her career.

Can you give an overview of how the initial idea for When We Become Strangers took root in your mind, and the questions you were trying to answer? I wanted to get to the heart of what I saw as a growing sense of estrangement. People talking and judging more, listening less. An intolerance of difference. Our young reporting a growing, biting loneliness. Escalating competition amongst friends. The deadening impact of influencers. Overly curated lives, that leave little room for spontaneity, creativity, fresh ideas. The unkindness, if not downright cruelty, of much of reality TV, encouraging us to judge others as winners or losers, rather than as individuals, each with a contribution, a story to tell. How has your writing life been affected by COVID-19? I love liminal space. It’s where I get my best ideas – where I’m most able to sift through possibilities. So, lockdown, for me, was the ultimate liminal space. That said, I know how hard lockdown has been for many. Writing for me, even on days when the words don’t flow, is the chance to deep dive into my own private world. When I can do this, I’m more able to engage with others, even if only on Zoom right now. Connection is essential – it feeds our thoughts, our heart, our soul.

Can you comment on the potential role of literature and the arts in combatting loneliness? Loneliness, I feel, is a lack of connection to ourselves as well as others. The arts, including books, lift us out of this space. They offer us the chance to immerse ourselves in ‘otherness’ – in worlds that are sometimes similar, sometimes very different from our own. These experiences build insight, and with insight, hopefully, we can create powerful bridges to the world around us. The arts, at their best, stretch us, help broaden our view, embrace difference and grow our humanity. They feed our curiosity, our passion for living, for exploring, celebrating and understanding the other in all its manifestations.

Writing itself can be a lonely activity and existence. How can writers maintain connection with others to ward off isolation and loneliness? Writing is about the subtleties of seeing and hearing, about making sense of our world. I love the quiet

joy of working with my hands – tending my balcony garden, trying a new recipe, knitting a little – these moments lift me out of my head and any funk I’m in. They feed something deep inside. Outside COVID restrictions, Derek and I like to gather neighbours of all ages and stages together for a casual meal – everyone arrives with a dish and something to tell. Or we head off with friends to a migrant part of Sydney, to sample a humble mum and dad restaurant – with formica tables, wonderful food and stories. I’m also passionate about nature – even if it’s only time out in a city park – when we deepen our connection with nature, we reconnect with life at a profound level, and any sense of separation dissolves.

It’s been over ten years since your influential books, What’s Happening to Our Boys and What’s Happening to Our Girls? In that time, what key observations have you made that would be important if you were writing the book now? We still see boys as problematic, which is sad. We need to tap more powerfully into what boys need – to offer them ways to be useful, to count. One rural community had some adolescent boys constantly in trouble. Everyone despaired, until a tradie suggested they work with these boys to restore a derelict heritage home. This experience changed the boys’ lives. While learning valuable skills, they were surrounded by good, solid men, and doing something tangible to make a difference. Too many of our kids are immersed in shallow stories – in sitcoms, on social media and elsewhere. This banal fare has ramped up in recent years. We have a whole generation who have grown up on their devices, spending their days holed up in their bedrooms, and now reporting real loneliness. With poor social skills to fall back on, they struggle with leaving home and unstructured study, and find workplace cultures hard to navigate.

Looking back, can you tell us a little about the mission and ethos of the Inspired Living imprint you oversaw for Allen & Unwin? Do you think the gap that imprint filled is being served today? Inspired Living was a joy to work on, focusing in on popular psychology, spirituality, and complementary health titles. Smaller publishing houses are now coming to the fore, and mainstream publishers will also pick up occasional titles in these areas. Self-publishing is flourishing. However, I wouldn’t advise writers down this route, unless they have a ready market for their book, and are prepared to put in the work publicising and marketing their book near and far. There are new models such as Write With Me, where Jane Turner edits and lays out a manuscript, preps writers for talks and media, provides print-on-demand and ebook options, then sets the author up with online portals where their self-published works can be bought worldwide.

You recently gave a Zoom workshop for Byron Writers Festival on non-fiction writing. Can you give a summary of the key points from that?

It’s not enough to have something to write about – be it a cutting-edge issue, memoir, an inspirational offering or expert help. We must understand the minds and hearts of our readers – their anxieties and aspirations. Every sentence must speak to these qualities.

Frequently writers want to impart everything they know – leaving readers drowning in information. Or they’re so passionate, they tell readers what to think, rather than creating a landscape of discovery.

Our language must be effortless. Frequently, non-fiction writers fall back on jargon or pet phrases, making their text hard work and/or mind-numbingly repetitive.

Finally, what writing projects are you working on at the moment?

My new book – What Happens to Us, Our Kids, When We Fail to Grow Up – looks to the future. It examines the complexities of juvenile behaviour across all age groups –where these behaviours originate, and what happens to us and emerging generations, when we have a toxic relationship to happiness and success, when we’re careless in our relationships, with the truth, with the underprivileged, with our resources, preferring to let others do the heavy lifting, rather than engage with key issues of the day. It will be published by Affirm next year. BS