The Lifer got some curious feedback about this blog the other day. “When I started to read it at first…I was confused. I mean, stories aren’t set in Wellington. They’re set in New York. Or maybe Paris. So it was hard to wrap my head around it that this was a story set where I live.”
This was a fascinating echo of a panel populated by serious editors/authors that The Lifer attended at the Auckland Writers and Readers Festival in 2008. The panel was on fiction set in Auckland. Encouraged by the existence of this panel, in the Q&A period, The Lifer asked if there was great interest amongst Kiwis about reading stories set in their land, reflecting their lives. According to that panel, no. No, New Zealanders are not interested in fiction or stories about New Zealand. Aspiring authors should set their stories in Europe. Or maybe New York.
And it baffles me, because not only am I hungry for local media, but people I know around the world are always curious about life in New Zealand, specifically life in Wellington. They didn’t sigh and melt over where I live back when I used to say, “I live in Auckland,” let me tell you. To them, New Zealand is the fairyland far away, and Wellington our shining city on the hill. So this blog is some of what I’d like to see about where I live – and a signal out into the great unknown, like the Pioneer plaque sent into outer space. Except IAWL has less geometry. And more pants.
Also, huge thanks to everyone for the links, comments, and feedback! Outside of comments, The Lifer has received requests for “It’s A Wellington Life” to include kitten pictures and lesbian romance. Separate requests, just to clarify.
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It’s certainly true for this Minneapolis girl that Wellington is a glamorous antipodes place, and it would be so even if I didn’t have favorite college and (and high school) friends who have since relocated there.
All that gorgeous film work and costuming and such coming here from there lends some of this illusion.