Pop the champagne, Hobart is a UNESCO City of Literature! After a lot of hard work from the local literary community, we've been accepted.
Long ago, in 1992, before podcasts were ever created, Julia Cameron presented a simple equation, feed your mind and it will supply you with creative inspiration. She called it ‘filling the well’ (from The Artist’s Way).
According to the latest science, inspiration comes from your brain amassing all your experiences, observations, activities, emotions and interests. Then, using its phenomenal plasticity, the brain mixes everything together to endow your imagination with odd, charming and terrifying inspiration. Inspiration that enables you to create fantastic worlds, rich characters and details that pull your readers in.
Egilsstaðir is east Iceland's main airport. It sits, a rectangular two-story box, on the shores of Lagarfjlót lake, surrounded by mountains more often snow streaked than not. It is a regional airport in every way; no security scanning, and a casual stroll across the tarmac to board the plane. Inside the building the distracting beauty of the landscape is replaced by the expected official white walls, posters and information boards by the mile, and chain seats that put you in direct, awkward eye-contact with your fellow waiting passengers.
I’m sitting in a glass dome above Reykjavik, drinking tea in the middle of winter. This is the first day in the past seven where the wind has stopped and the -3ºC is not exacerbated by dust filled icy blasts of air that encourage you to stay inside, or only venture into town where the buildings will offer some shelter. The 10:30am sun bathes the world in pink and orange as it rises on one side while the full moon sets on the other. In this warm glass dome I can see above the city a full 360 degrees. Not far beyond the buildings is either snow covered mountains or silver-blue ocean. Below me, is a small hill covered in pine trees, and across the city I see the empty branches of birch and black cottonwood.
I regularly walk past the UNESCO City of Literature plaque in downtown Reykjavik, but although I am involved in the literary world, I’ve never really been sure of what being a literary city means. Did the city have to meet specific targets? Did being part of a UNESCO group add something to the city other than the plaque? Should I, as a regular resident, be conscious of being in a city of literature, or was it no more than a label to be used in marketing? In short, I was clueless as to what it meant to be a City of Literature. This article attempts to answer these questions.