Part Two: The Wednesday Intern

The following is a recollection of the Wednesday Intern’s experiences. Most of this it true … or at least as true as it needs to be.

Day Five

I created some graphics today. Les needed digital assets for Busybird authors. They’re little images to post on Facebook or Instagram, usually showcasing the book cover, maybe a quote and reviews. They’re an author’s peacock feathers, purely to attract potential readers. Done well, they can be a useful tool.

Anything visual is right up my alley. As much as I love writing a story and editing a story, designing the wrapper it comes in is just as exciting. I learnt all about design in school and know my way around Photoshop. It was fun to match colours and fonts, and play around with layout.

Honestly, I could talk about opacity levels and contrast all day. Point is, I put my all into the graphic I made. Really took my time with it. I was so excited to show the guys. After all my fumbling with signs and devon, I felt I finally found my groove.

“Sweet,” said Kev, nodding. “Where are the others?”

I forgot the most important rule of Design. Always make multiple. I needed three others. And with only an hour left, I did my best with what I had.

Day Six

I’ve suddenly become really good at guessing songs. It helps that Les is usually in his office and can’t see my computer screen.

“Who sings this, Carly?”

Pause. “Roxette.”


“Thanks,” I said, closing out of Google.

It was going great. I think I was becoming their number one intern for a moment there. Until Kev figured it out.

Day Seven

I’m illustrating a book now. For some reason, Kev and Les think I have it in me to produce ten high quality images worthy of being published.

Do I think I have it in me? That’s a hard question to answer.

As artists/writer/creators, we do what we do for fun. Otherwise we wouldn’t do it. No one in their right mind would stare at a blank page for hours on end if they didn’t find something rewarding in it. In that fun, you practice. You get better. You enjoy yourself for a while. Then you see someone else doing it better and suddenly your work becomes the epitome of suck.

And you can try to copy and be inspired by others, but ultimately it doesn’t feel as good, or look like your work anymore. You doubt yourself, your skills and your worth as a creator. Can I actually do this? Will it come out even a tenth as good as I wish it to be? What if I can never get the results I want?

It’s a rollercoaster. Right now, I’m in the big dip. Hopefully in this process, I’ll find that confidence in me that others seem to have. Until then, I’ll work even harder.

And because this got a tad bit sad, here’s a frog using a toadstool as an umbrella.

Day Eight

Oscar found a blue-tongue lizard today. We figured it lives under the porch. There’s a few holes where the stairs don’t fit against the earth, and you’d think Oscar would go and stick his nose in to sniff around. Instead, he became a big sook and stuck by me. But that may be because I’ve been feeding him again. Peanut butter on rice cakes yield better results than devon.

After work, we got ready for Open Mic Night. Kev did the sign this time.

Sitting back and watching everyone, something became clear rather quickly. The people presenting their work were just like me. They were nervous to share their material, but also excited. Maybe they didn’t have anywhere else to be a creator. Maybe this was the first community they ever felt like they belonged to. Maybe they, whilst others went out dancing and drinking, spent hours into the night writing. They spent days figuring out that one paragraph that would not flow. They used dish washing time to mull over plot points. They found company in fiction when reality was too harsh of a world to live in.

Introverted. Hardworking. Passionate.

These same people came up to me afterwards with praise, and we spoke about shared experiences as writers and artists. And about this time I realised I was at the halfway point of my internship. My stomach flipped. I’m running out of days.

In another 8 weeks, this is over. No more Oscar crop dusts, no more cringing to guess 80s songs, no more Busybird. If I wanted to stay, I’d probably have to room with the blue tongue.

I’m having a great time and I’m learning so much.

I don’t want it to end.

Carly Mitchell, Publishing Intern

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