Australia Day

Australia Day 2013 should have been full of barbecues, picnics, thong-throwing competitions, and happy families celebrating their pride in their country while newer residents proudly took their citizenship oath. But Cyclone Oswald lashed Queensland’s coast, creating six tornadoes and the biggest flood in Bundaberg’s recorded history. Thousands of homes were inundated, thirteen washed away, never to be found, others teetering on holes created by the torrent. Businesses suffered devastating losses, caught by Nature’s intensity and the Burnett River breaking its banks. Boats were washed away, some completely disappearing, some found days later as broken hulks on the rocky shore, debris scattered like broken dreams.

The town was in shock. But as the water receded and help flowed in, Bundabergians created their own Mud Army and went to work helping those whose lives had been traumatised.

One year later, the town has mostly recovered. Some businesses never re-opened, some houses never re-built, some folks still fighting insurance companies and unable to return to their homes, but the ghost-town atmosphere that pervaded North Bundaberg in the months following the flood has been replaced by a thriving community spirit.

So this Australia Day I reflected on that wonderful Aussie spirit, that pride in a country of extremes, from tropical rainforests, snow-covered mountain ranges, vast Outback plains that seem to be either in drought or flood. We started as a penal colony of convicts and guards and evolved into explorers and farmers and graziers and nation-builders. But it wasn’t easy. This is a harsh and often unforgiving land, and it took guts to try to conquer it.

It’s those aspects of the Australian landscape and psyche that I’ve tried to capture in my books. I love this unique land of ours and want to share it with my readers. In Dance with the Devil the rugged Great Dividing Range became as huge an obstacle for Emma and Drew to conquer as the killer who held an innocent life in his hands. In Black Ice a hit-and-run on the Sunshine Coast and a mud slide in the Blue Mountains nearly meant the end for Kirri and Daniel. Deadly Tide was a favourite to write, set as it was on a trawler off Bundaberg’s coast. Putting Sam and Chayse in such a confined space gave lots of opportunities for sparks to fly, and some unusual dangerous situations, and researching beautiful Lady Musgrave Island was no hardship for this dedicated writer J

Until Death was more citified, encompassing Brisbane, Sydney and the Hunter Valley region where Libby and Connor had to cope with a natural disaster as deadly as the killers hunting them.

Dangerous Deception allowed me to indulge in more exotic locations such as Central Queensland’s Carnarvon Gorge before bringing Breeanna and Rogan back to Melbourne. But I couldn’t resist having them go via the Gold Coast hinterland in a daring escape that has them jumping off a mountain.

Ladder to Amphitheatre tunnel entrance at Carnarvon Gorge

The plot of Fatal Flaw only allowed me to take a slight deviation from Brisbane’s suburbs, Chinatown, and nearby Mount Glorious, but it’s Mark’s trip to the sapphire diggings outside Emerald that gives him a clue to who wants to kill Julie’s father.

Grievous Harm (to be released later this year), traverses a lot of New South Wales and Queensland, and depicts the harshness and grandeur of the Outback. This is the darkest of all my novels, and I hope readers can forgive me for what I put Kate and John through. They really deserve their HEA.

What I also strived to do was give my heroes and heroines the kind of courage our early settlers had to have in order to survive. They have to battle not only the highs and lows of falling in love, but danger in various guises and a land that can be as deadly as any determined killer.

We didn’t have prawns (shrimp) on the barbie this Australia Day, but lamb chops (after all, Australia was supposed to ride on the sheep’s back at one stage in our history), and I counted my blessings that I live in this wonderful country that gives me such fabulous settings in which to tell my stories, and planned my next research trips to those states and territories I haven’t yet written about.

SheKilda and the Chaos Fairy

Just a little over a week to go before the Sisters-in-Crime convention, SheKilda, will be held in Melbourne. For readers interested in the crime genre and the romantic suspense sub-genre, it will be a must-attend event. Top Aussie crime writers will be sharing their knowledge and baring their souls (well, their writing souls). Aspiring writers will have the opportunity to come along and ask their favourite authors those questions they’d never otherwise have a chance to ask. Readers will get to see their favourite authors in the flesh and have books signed.

As a Queenslander I was writing winter woollies on my packing list, but was pleasantly surprised to see Melbourne temperatures in temperatures in the high twenties (C). Just as I was thinking of revising the list, the city lived up to its reputation of having four seasons in one day and the mercury plummeted. It’s a good thing Rob and I are driving down – I’ll need all the back seat to stack the many changes of clothing I’m sure to need.

On Monday a journalist from our local newspaper, the NewsMail, phoned and said she wanted to interview me about the publication of Fatal Flaw and send out a photographer. I looked around the house – saw the stuff that’s been piling up in the past few weeks as the Chaos Fairy swatted me a few good ones with her wacky wand and kept me from concentrating on housework (all right, I’ll be honest, I try to avoid housework but I don’t like it to get too feral) and knew I was in for a quick clean-up. I looked in the mirror and knew that was a good place to start, especially as my hair looked like I should mop the floor with it. Deciding it needed a colour to give it a lift, I quickly dragged out the plastic gloves and set to work. During the colour-setting time I made like the mad woman in the Ajax tv ad and did a surface clearance. Just as I was about to dive into the shower to rinse off the colour the phone rang. I looked at the number. It was my publisher. I couldn’t not answer it. Ten minutes later I half stripped, stuck my head in the shower and was towelling dry when the photographer arrived. Luckily for me it was Max Fleet, a great guy with a lot of patience. I didn’t have time to throw on any spak filler, but he managed to play with the light so I didn’t crack his lens. The result can be seen here.