Trek into the future

A plan is a plan is a plan. This one screeches to an end in ten months.

I feel like I’m driving down a snowbound road without chains on my tires. I can only really view the slush in front of me. Shangri-La, way down the way, is there, I know it, but no one can yet glimpse it.

Clunk clunk

As a writer, are you an outliner like Graeme Simsion (check out his The Novel Project) or a pantser like Lee Kofman (check out her The Writer Laid Bare; I’m about to sink into this!)? With my murder mysteries, I was the former. With my albatross-on-neck nonfiction project, I have been the latter, simply because I could never see how to conceptually organize the material. Well, now I can…

Pierce the fog

Looking back, I’ve lost a month of work efforts to Covid, a very hectic trip, and ten days of laziness conferred by cold/cough symptoms. Ever is it thus, ever is it thus. Ever is the need to restart, to thrust aside the easy mist of challenge, and to settle back into the real work. I know the first steps: get back into an early routine. Exercise early. No Twitter or email before noon. Hour…

Chapter change

Switching to Chapter 8. Long time no see, Chapter 8. A change of scenery also, from drab wintry Melbourne to Darwin just shy of the dry season. Grandparenting for most of the day, so only a couple of hours, Chapter 8, but that’s okay?

Closing up shop

Same as it ever was, same as it ever was. Off to Darwin for ten days, then a camping/walking tour to Broome, so now I’m scrambling to get Chapter 15 under control. I’ve already agreed with myself that I won’t quite get it finished (it’s too, too hard, I moan) but some bits need to be written up now, otherwise the hardship in getting back to speed on my return will be…

A window opens

A steep muddy hill, restorative rain, wintry chills … that’s what my diary foretold today. But fate intervened, scarily but, strangely enough, also hopefully. My bushwalking club put on a walk in the Dandenongs and I looked forward to struggling with walk-unfitness and hiking seventeen kilometers. Then Covid struck one of our children’s families. Having seen the grandsons twice…


I need to celebrate achievements more openly. So, hear this, all and sundry, today, I whipped a chapter into shape, ready for editing and editing and editing for language and rhythm and impact, but nonetheless now whole in terms of nonfiction facts and references. Pop goes the cork!

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