breakaway

We hitched up the caravan and drove to Port Fairy. All those green lawns and gardens- how soft the colour green is on the eyes after the harsh yellow landscape of a drought stricken Bendigo and Northern Victoria. We only managed four nights. It was so peaceful in Port Fairy but apparently we had taken someone else's pre-booked spot and had to move so we went to Warnambool. Our spot at Port Fairy was bordered by Boobiallas and there amongst the dry twigs was a rat's nest and a mouse nest. The rodents were used to scavenging and would peek bright eyes out at crumbs on the site and scurry into the dry nesting. And rabbits- so many capering in the thick couch grass of the dunes, as well as sparrows- a whole host of imported creatures holidaying also.

I am trying to re-capture the gist of my 5000 word start to my novel which was so untimely executed when the laptop was stolen.
I am back to handwriting in my note book first then typing up as a second draft on the big computer.

disaster

My laptop was stolen from the state library as I worked in a dark room with microfilm. I feel as if I've lost a member of the family- and that 5000 word start of a novel. I compose on this laptop and then put it onto the big computer when I'm happy with it- alright you know what's coming- I didn't'save my stuff to the big computer- all that work. I want to howl and rage- how could anyone take my bag and the steal the laptop and leave the bag behind some shelves??????

spinning threads into words

Writing produces writing- no doubt about it- while you're immersed in writing a story or a poem, other threads come easily to the writing spinning wheel. It's just the fact of picking up yesterday's thread and maintaining the plot and tension and need to read on, that are the tricky parts.

I have recently had some new shelves added to my book cases and in the act of sorting through books I am re-reading some children's' classics- well what I believe are children's classics and seeing the dated social conventions- Elizabeth Kyle's 'The house of the Pelican' is one such book- not that I would classify this as a classic. But it is interesting. A better read was Gillian Avery 'The Warden's Daughter'. I like historical novels made readable for today's younger audience.

I went to our poets' group meeting last night- what a fantastic time of sharing poems- it's amazing what we see in each other's poems and an objective eye helps understand our own writing and choice of words. We meet once a month in Bunja Thai restaurant and often while waiting for the group to arrive I can write and actually sketched an outline of a children's story I want to write- this does not often happen and even while we were discussing poetry, some ideas of past experiences floated to mind and I quickly jotted them down- it's amazing how an idea evaporates without proper recording.

rain

Rain after such dry years. Has rain become extinct? The rain is gentle and filling our tanks and making hope. Our town's water storage is critical and domestic water restrictions have been severe. It has changed economies and business and the way we look at everyday domestic chores and so it should. I even do dishes in a plastic tub so I can put the water onto one Hebe bush out the back door that refuses to give up living. Thanks for rain.

first entry

I am jumping on the band wagon. My own blog. A type of internal dialogue and diary entry. What am I writing now? Poetry and stories. I am tackling a bigger novel, not quite fantasy, a quest? I can't seriously plot, the characters unfold as I write and lead me into the story- trouble is with a larger text one has to keep details, take notes as I write of what features each character has revealed to me. So I suppose the type of plotting I do is after the event!