We writers are often rather introverted people. How cruel that after we write our books in our quiet little nests, we have to expose ourselves to the big wide world. Oh dear, giving talks and speaking on radio etc will always terrify me, no matter how
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My partner and I were driving to Sydney from the Blue Mountains one Sunday when we were caught up in the most horrendous traffic jam. After inching along for half an hour or so we were diverted off the Great Western Highway….into another dreadful jam. Apparently there
Read more →As many of my friends know, I have a great love for the sound of church bells. They ring to call the faithful to worship and to proclaim joyful events such as declarations of peace after war. They celebrate births and marriages and toll to commemorate the
Read more →BLOWN TO THE LEFT IN A COLD WIND OF CHANGE Until recently the only concept I had of being ‘left’ in any sense was being left handed. Since I am not a violinist it has never caused me huge problems, except when signing books at author functions.
Read more →I remember watching as work proceeded on the wonderfully eccentric University of Technology building in Sydney. The Aussie ‘brickies’ had never coped with anything quite like it. Creating folds and curves from bricks is extremely difficult. One fellow joked that instead of laying a few
Read more →The Take Home Busker, by Tony Smith Since my partner and I have had fewer restrictions imposed on our time by work commitments, I have reinvented myself as a folk musician. We attend festivals, do CD reviews, write songs and perform in ‘sessions’. Undoubtedly, one of my
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MOMENTS IN TIME, BUT NO LONGER IN MEMORY Pop psychologists are always urging us to ‘Live in the moment’. I do try to do this, especially when it comes to enjoying my garden and the wonderful bird life around me. However, as a writer on social history and
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It is such a privilege to have access to someone’s diaries. I find myself handling them with something akin to reverence. Recently I have been in Sydney’s Mitchell Library reading those of English writer Sylvia Townsend Warner. Sylvia began them in 1927, the year after she
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Sometimes the tiniest, least expensive gifts provide the greatest pleasure. When recipients acknowledge their delight in the manner of the examples below, the result it is a gift to us all. In 1989 The children’s author Roald Dahl received a small container filled with coloured
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SOMETIMES I COME ACROSS A STORY THAT TRULY MOVES ME. JESSICA TRUETT GREW UP IN KENTUCKY. HER MEMORIES OF HER DEARLY LOVED GRANDMOTHER DOLLIE CAME STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART. THEY WERE ALSO BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN. IT IS A PRIVILEGE TO SHARE HER ARTICLE ON MY WEBSITE. DOLLIE DIED
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