Month: May 2024

The Ever-Present 80s Music

“You need to write a blog. It can be about anything. Here are some examples.”

Those were the words I was told before I got stuck into reading said examples. And yet, I still don’t know what to write. This genuinely might be the first time I’m at a loss for words. And so, I’m sitting here listening to the sounds of the office.

I can hear the intern’s keyboard clacking, an editor rummaging around her pencil case, Kev on the phone to a client, Oscar the dog playing with his squeaky toy, and Les turning on the coffee machine.

Of course, the ever-present 80s music is also playing.

The 80s music.

From the moment you walk into the office at Busybird you notice the music. It’s only ever 80s music, and all interns and work-experience students are forewarned that we need to study before we show up. Lest we be quizzed and get the singer/band/songwriter wrong.

Funny story about that: I didn’t remember which era I needed to study before my placement and thought it was 70s music. Over the course of the week, I have only gotten one song right, much to the horror of Les and Kev.

Whoops!

Currently “Super Trooper” by ABBA is playing, and no, I didn’t look that up! Les thinks it’s funny to quiz everyone on lesser-known songs, so while I grew up on these tracks, he always catches me off-guard. I suspect he does that with everyone though. The trick to avoid answering wrong is not to think, I hope no one quizzes me on this song, because trust me, they are telepathic and will ask you the minute you think it.

All jokes aside, the office is a very welcoming environment.

Oscar, AKA the “Morale Manager”, is always ready to greet you at the door, and wipes his mouth on your pants after he has a drink, which is always a laugh.

Every day, a different intern greets me with a smile as they introduce themselves. Kev and Les are always ready to unleash their sarcasm and constantly offer everyone tea, coffee and some kind of chocolate sweet. The editors and bookkeeper I’ve met are all very friendly too.

It’s laughable that I was worried I wasn’t going to fit in because I am so young and inexperienced, but it was almost as if I slotted in. No one has made me feel as if I don’t belong and I have even felt comfortable enough to join in on jokes.

I’m learning so much from this placement, from how to proof things, to formatting and even basic grammar. All these things I can use in school and for the rest of my life in whatever career I end up in, whether it be publishing, editing, writing, or something else entirely.

I don’t think this week could have been any better, and I also think I won’t ever listen to as much 80s music as I have this week either!

-Maddy Vecch
Year 10 Work Experience, 2024

Open Mic Night #100

When we first moved into our Montmorency Studio way back in 2013, something Blaise wanted to do was host a monthly Open Mic Night.

That had been a requirement at our Professional Writing & Editing course – students had to read at least twice a year. Most students (or at least most students I knew) dreaded it. Read in front of an audience? Terrifying. I’d almost hyperventilate, and had to continually psyche myself up beforehand.

But, inevitably, I grew to enjoy it, and in my second year of study would volunteer to read. Later, after I’d graduated, I actually spoke about mental health issues for SANE Victoria, then Beyond Blue. I never would’ve done that – never would’ve considered it – if those school readings hadn’t introduced me to public speaking.

As far as Busybird was concerned, I was worried that without that study imperative, people wouldn’t attend. But Blaise was typically optimistic. And persistent.

The first few Open Mics were understandably sparse, but gradually they grew. They were rarely big, barnstorming events, but they gained respectable numbers, and many of those people became regulars over the years.

What everybody immediately embraced was the passion behind the night. A lot of that came from Blaise and Kev. They brought warmth, familiarity, and encouragement to the Open Mic Nights. People felt that the moment they walked in. It wasn’t a place to be nervous. It wasn’t a place of judgement. It was a nest that was nurturing. Readers could find their voice in a way they might not have been able to otherwise.

On the day of an Open Mic Night, we’d often try to predict how many people would attend. Sometimes, we’d have a cold, wet, miserable day, and think that would impact numbers. Nope. People wanted somewhere cosy to settle in.

When we reached Open Mic Night #21, Blaise drew a key on an A4 sheet of paper, and people signed it like they’d sign a twenty-first-birthday key. It seemed amazing to have gotten that far. (That key’s now stuck on the wall behind Kev’s collection of cameras. Check it out.)

That was way back on 15 April 2015 – look how far we’ve come!

The Open Mic Nights were something that could’ve easily imploded during the Covid years. But Blaise worked industriously to keep them going, running them as online functions until we could forage back out into the real world. Then, when she unexpectedly passed away, it would’ve been easy to let them fall away.

Kev used the first couple of dates for Blaise-centric events – first a memorial, where family and friends could talk about her, and then, to launch her novel The Colours of Ash. Both were well attended, but they were events.

The first few Open Mics after that were sparse. Understandably, the bulk of regulars hadn’t returned. It was a strange space to now occupy – a Blaise-place without Blaise.

For Kev, myself, an intern Daniel (who was so helpful during that difficult time), Kate the bookkeeper, and Oscar, it was noticeable every day.

At functions, it was far worse. Typically, Blaise would be front and centre behind the microphone. All the dynamics had changed. Maybe it was only natural to call time on Open Mic Night.

We kept pushing, thinking – as was the motivator behind so many decisions back then – it’s what Blaise would want. Numbers started to grow. Lots of new people started coming. Open Mic Night had found a new lease.

Now here we are at Open Mic Night #100.

Blaise grew up on a hippy commune nicknamed “Tralfamadore”, a place (I imagine) that she developed a sense of close-knit community. Walls didn’t separate neighbours. Everybody knew everybody. Everybody relied on everybody. It was (for a time) their little utopia.

It wasn’t until Blaise passed away that I realized that’s what she was doing with Busybird, and with the Open Mic Nights – creating a community of like-minded people, and giving them a place where they could feel safe, where they could find their voice and be appreciated, and where they could form lasting friendships.

One of the important outcomes of writing, Blaise would say, was leaving a legacy behind – our stories would remain here long after we were gone.

Through Open Mic Night, she built her own legacy, and allowed all of us to tell our stories and connect with others.

And long may it live on.

Hope to see you all tomorrow night, Wednesday, 15^th May, at 7.00pm at our Studio for Open Mic Night #100!