Look out! Politics.

I’d love to comment on the political scene in Australia at the moment but the last time I wrote anything political (first and last time) the Old Boy made me remove it. He thought it’d upset his family. That’s the trouble with politics; someone is always going to be upset. (Before you get mad at him; he was right even tho’ I didn’t like it at the time. I love the family and, let’s face it, I don’t want to do anything that’d ruin Christmas.) I really, really want to comment on the current scene because I get so frustrated with the ignorance of the … Nope. Even I can tell I was straying into contentious territory then. I must learn restraint. My father was very vocal about his political views. As far as he was...

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To kindle or not…

I’m toying with the idea of going over to the dark side and publishing my junior fantasy as a kindle on Amazon. (I know! I never thought that day would come.) You see, I really think it’s a worthwhile story and I’ve done a good job with it. If I was reviewing it, I’d give it at least three and a half stars. (Rosanne Hawke suggested four!) But, I can’t find a publisher willing to take it. I’ve tried. I’ve been patient. I’ve been polite. Most of them couldn’t be bothered to even send a form letter/ e-mail reply. How hard is it to type, “Sorry. No.” and hit Send? I’ve spent nearly three years waiting…waiting…waiting… I can see why many authors, even those who’ve...

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The writing process.

Mug of coffee: check. Pillow in the small of my back: check. Old Boy out of the house: check. Wonder Dog fed and sleeping on back of armchair: check. Okay, I’m ready to rock and roll. I open up the Writing folder in Word documents. I go to the piece I’m currently working on. I read the first three paragraphs and realise I’ve bored myself stupid. I find myself thinking, once again, of the myriad of programs and/or apps I could purchase to assist me in my “craft”. Would having Scribblers Inc in my PC make the writing any less boring? Perhaps not, but it’s handy to have something to blame other than myself. I’ve got to liven up the prose. Strong verbs are important. “He walked into the lounge room…” Hmm,...

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The good things

The Old Boy, the Wonder Dog and I spent two weeks in a cabin on the edge of a forest. (Sounds like the start of a fairy tale, right?) Every morning we’d put out the crumbs and then sat back to watch the customers rush in: blue wrens and red-eye finches, blackbirds, and one little bush rat. Rex had to content himself with running back and forth in front of the window and growling menacingly. The hungry hordes couldn’t have cared less. In the forest and surrounding hills we saw wallabies, echidnas and one kangaroo. There were bucket-loads of cockatoos, crimson parrots, rosellas, lorikeets, kookaburras, little hawks and we even saw three wedge-tailed eagles. Now I’m back, sitting at my desk, telling myself I should get busy. In the last few weeks a...

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