A surprise

A parcel arrived two days ago. The sender was my German publisher, Bastei Lubbe, and inside were two hard-cover copies of Der Sturm der Rache (Fatal Flaw) and a delivery note. And nothing else. No clue as to what these copies represented. A year ago I received two hard-cover editions with a different cover and they came with a letter saying they had been published for the Berlin Book Club. So now I’m curious about these new copies. I love mysteries, but only if I can find out the answers 🙂

Gold Coast Writers Festival

The Gold Coast Writers Festival is on 26-28 October, and I’m heading off on the 25th on the long drive down. There’s a fabulous line-up of authors, publishers, and industry professionals all sharing their expertise with aspiring writers as well as giving readers insights into the industry.

On Saturday I’ll be joining Rowena Cory Daniells and Tony Cavanagh on the The Thrill of the Chase panel, with the CEO of the Queensland Writers Centre, Meg Vann, as chair. Meg also runs the Brisbane arm of Sisters-in-Crime and I’m sure she will have some interesting questions for the panel. The audience might go away with more than they bargained for 🙂

The panels at the festival are free, with seminars and workshops costing a minimal fee. It’s going to be a great event and I hope both writers and readers take advantage of the hard work the Gold Coast Writers Association has put in to bring this fantastic opportunity to the Gold Coast.

What I discovered

After two months of my mother being in and out of hospital, she was finally offered a place in the nursing home of our choice, one where we knew she’d be happy. But we’ve had to move her from a two-bedroom unit to one room, and it’s sad to think that a lifetime of possessions now has to be condensed to fit this new part of her life.

I’ve always known Mum was a hoarder, but what we’ve discovered amazed me, especially as she and my late step-father moved here only six years ago and so much had to be discarded on that move. The hardest part of all this is having to decide what books can move with her and what can’t. But I’ve found one little treasure that has reminded me that I too, am a hoarder – but a hoarder of words. Along with all the other books – classics, romances, poetry, atlases, etc – I found a slim volume titled “The Treasure of Friendship”, and tucked inside were some yellowed pages from a magazine that, when folded, became a small booklet of poems.

One of these poems is “Love is a Solvent” (copyright 1971) by Patience Strong. An internet search revealed that was the pen name of English poet Winifred May, who died in 1990. I’d love to share this poem with you, but copyright law prohibits this. But if you get a chance to read this poem, please do so.

So why am I mentioning this? Well, my mother and I are as different as it’s possible for two people to be. We love each other, but have totally different outlooks, needs etc. I would need pages and pages to list our differences. But one thing we do share is a love of words. There were always books in our house, and I shall always be grateful for this gift, this love of reading, that she has given me. In turn, I have tried to pass this on to my children, and my heart is full of joy when I see my grandchildren, tiny though they be, demanding to have books read to them.

As I read through these crumbling pages that my mother has kept for so many years, I wonder if, many years in the future, my children and their children will one day discover a similar treasure when they are forced to decide what of their parents’ belongings are to be kept and what has to be discarded. I doubt that ebooks will have the same tug on heartstrings that this small volume, with its wishes from a friend for future happiness, has brought to me. I know that ebooks are here to stay, and I have embraced their practicality and their economy, and am grateful that my stories are now available to my readers for many years to come, but I think they cannot evoke the same sentimentality that I feel as I turn the pages of a book my mother has treasured for many decades of her life.

Have you a special book that you cannot bear to part with? Is there some collection of words that has moved your soul and stayed with you? I’d love to hear your stories.

Congratulations to a friend

It was one day after Valentine’s Day, but my friend Louise Cusack‘s life was full of rose-tinged thoughts when her fantasy romance trilogy was epublished by Momentum Books on 15 February. Although the books had been previously print published in Australia, epublishing meant they were now available internationally.

Epublishing is a wonderful avenue for Australian authors to get their books out into the world. My books have Australian settings, which can make them difficult to sell overseas, and particularly into the USA, but with the growing trend towards readers purchasing ebooks it means my stories can now reach a greater audience and show readers from other countries aspects of Australia, and particularly Queensland, they won’t find in most travel brochures. For example, the amazing Amphitheatre at Carnarvon Gorge in Central Queensland is a wonderful example of nature’s force and I knew I had to use it when writing Dangerous Deception. The opening to the Amphitheatre is high up on a cliff face and can only be reached by climbing a series of ladders.

 

When you get to the entrance of the tunnel (which is formed by an enormous slab of rock splitting apart and creating an opening), you then have to traverse about 40 metres of uneven rock as well as concrete steps made by the Park Rangers. This photo was taken from almost inside the Amphitheatre looking back to the entrance in the cliff face.

When you step inside the Amphitheatre, it’s like walking into a massive cathedral. You gaze up the vaulting slabs of rock to the tiny opening at the top where sunlight enters. The floor is grey dirt, and amazingly ferns grow in abundance, perhaps watered by rain seeping through fissures in the rock. They certainly wouldn’t get much rain through the small top opening.

When we were there a young couple joined us, and the woman took out a flute and began playing. Magic. It was the only word to describe it. Pure notes lingering then rising to the tiny patch of sky above. The acoustics are so good they have had choirs perform there for the fabulous resonance.

There’s something spiritual about Carnarvon Gorge, and even more so about the Amphitheatre. It was something I felt just driving from the highway to the Gorge and became stronger the moment I walked into the Amphitheatre.

Aboriginal rock paintings adorn the cliff walls further into the gorge, and it’s easy to visualise them living here and enjoying the abundant wildlife. With a creek traversing the length of the gorge, there is ample water and lush grasses to attract wallabies, goannas and birds.

Unfortunately, feral pigs have also made the gorge their home, and their habit of rooting up plants for food has led to some destruction of the creek banks. The Park Rangers try to keep their numbers under control, but eliminating them entirely would be almost impossible.

Happy Christmas

They call it the silly season, this time coming up to Christmas, and with the steamy days and flooding rains we could all be forgiven for becoming a bit “silly”. One afternoon last week a 30 minute thunderstorm had the drains on both sides of the road in front of our place filling so quickly they flowed over onto the road and our driveway and our backyard was almost a lake. For the next three nights we were serenaded by hundreds, if not thousands, of frogs and toads calling out their joy and trying to attract the females of the species to choose them to help keep the amphibian population growing.

It made me grateful that humans are a little less vocal when it comes to the mating game. I don’t think I could tolerate a human version of Frog Hollow! No offence to Kermit, but if he croaked all night like these guys do I doubt Miss Piggy would have clutched him to her ham bone.

The Writers Mentoring Retreat was a great success. Thirteen participants, all enthusiastic and eager to learn and network. Wonderful to see the progress in their writing and the way quite a few of them decided to keep in touch and form an email critique group. They were all such lovely people and it was a pleasure to work with them.

After Christmas I will have to decide whether to write the next in the Murder, Mayhem & ? series or to let the next complex romantic suspense story flow from my fingertips. Don’t you just love the word “flow”? Wish it was as easy as that 🙂 Plots and characters for both stories are stewing in my brain and it’s getting quite crowded in there. I’ll have to let some of them out soon or the pressure will get too much.

Speaking of pressure – four days ago I had built-in furniture put in my office. Now, the big problem with this was clearing out the five pieces of old, and very disparate, furniture that had contributed to my mental clutter by not coping with the physical clutter. I culled as I filled boxes, then ran out of time and just threw everything in and moved the boxes to the lounge room and the furniture to the shed. Now I’ve put back most of the ’stuff’ and am trying to dredge up the enthusiasm to finish sorting the last few boxes when all I really want to do is write.

So I wonder – how do all you great people out there in cyber land cope with encroaching clutter? Any thoughts on the subject would be appreciated. And maybe contribute to something in the next Murder, Mayhem & ?? book.

Wishing you all a safe and happy Christmas and New Year and may love wrap you in its warm embrace.

Sandy

Finished!!!

Murder, Mayhem & Menopause is finished! I was beginning to think it wouldn’t happen. Months ago I thought it wouldn’t take long to get to the end but my characters had other ideas and took me on the journey they’d decided they needed to go on. I’ve given the manuscript to a couple of trusted friends (writers and readers) and am grateful for their feedback. The problem with writing the story is that you are too close to it and sometimes can’t see that some things need changing or expanding – or deleting. I’m very grateful to these readers for their opinions and comments. And for letting me know that they loved it! Thank you, gals. My husband read it too – but I know he only reads my books for the sexy bits 😉

It’s been a month of surprises. As you may have read in previous posts, I have been organising WriteFest, the Bundaberg writers festival, for the past six years. Last month a local Rotary club asked me if I would attend their change-over dinner and give a talk about WriteFest. Grateful for the chance to spread the word about writing and books, I agreed and spent a while working out a talk that was hopefully interesting enough to keep them awake and not nod into their desserts. So imagine my shock when, instead of being asked to come up and talk, I was asked to come to the podium to receive a Paul Harris Fellowship award for my work with WriteFest. I was so surprised I was speechless for a minute (quite remarkable for me, my friends will tell you). I feel very honoured by this as although not a Rotarian, I know how highly Rotary regards this award and wish to thank them for it.

Mentoring the Muse –  That’s the title of a writers mentoring retreat that I am conducting with two other writers in October. It’s an intensive three-day retreat offering one-on-one mentoring to writers of novels, short stories and memoirs, and plays. Acceptance to attend is based on submissions and these close on 20 August. If you are interested in attending, have a look at our website mentoringthemuse.wordpress.com and send in your submissions.

Isn’t it great to see winter is on the way out? I’m a spring and summer person – love the heat and swimming and watermelon and mangoes and ice-blocks dripping down my arm. Don’t like the psycho magpie who lives in a tree next door and attacks everyone within a 500m radius, including me as I get mail from my letterbox or hang washing on the line. Once his daddy hormones kick in he doesn’t seem to recognise that I’m the person who feeds him and his kids. Anyone who moves becomes his enemy, including a wheelchair-bound neighbour I had to rescue because he couldn’t push his chair as he needed his hands to fend off the feathered fiend. None of the other maggies are swooping yet, but he’s already started. And if last year is any indication he’ll be swooping long after the others have kicked their kids out of the nest. Anyone with a metal helmet for sale?