Storytime

A writing friend of mine has recently won some prizes in competitions, prize money and publication of stories, all very well deserved (she's a great writer). I smiled when another writing friend of mine said 'yes, that's what happens when you send stuff out.' I smiled, if only it was that easy. The work has to be good, the timing has to be right but then I began to think when did I last send something out. Hmmmmmmmmm.......still thinking about that. I"m sure if I looked up my 'paper work' it would tell me but between you and me, I'm afraid of the answer. So what is stopping me? Climbing the Gloucester tree in Western Australia, I was intent in making it to the top. Once there, then safely back down, then I thought of all the things that could have happened. Could have fallen, could have broken something, could have had an anxiety attack and froze half way up. None of this happened....I wasn't the speediest climbing it and my legs turne...

Recently we went to the Barossa Valley...for a night...to pick up two small barrels. And of course something to put in them. It was a lovely drive there...a long drive back home...and some interesting sights on the way. I"m not a big drinker so after a few wineries it's all the same for me. While the other half sampled, I walked around, looking at the buildings, the flowers, people watching (don't get me started on hen's nights that start at a winery at 10 am- or pink hummers!) Just loved the history. These stone buildings still standing. We stayed in Betheny ( Bethanien) established in 1842 by 25 German Lutheran families from Silesia. The Pioneer Cemetery tells it's own story. So many lived long lives. 82, 71, 83...so many children still born, still born, 1 year 3 weeks, 8 days. We picked up our barrels from Seppetsfield- another adventuring family with an interesting history. We were given a tour of where the barrels are made and met Youngy, ...

It's that time of the year - for me at least. I've spent the past few months sending works out...and now the waiting game begins. Waiting for weeks, sometimes months, sometimes even more months. Hoping for that 'yes' but more often than not receiving... It's a part of life when you write. You sit in your lonely garret, pen to the paper (or in my case, sit in my bedroom, fingers at the keyboard) and you create. You attempt to put down what moves you, those wondrous sentences that dance before your eyes. For me, that's the fun part. The creation. Then you edit. And edit. And edit some more. Finally, with a deep breath and some belief in what you have created you send it out into the ether, hoping that an editor/ publisher/ editorial committee or judge will see the beauty in what you have created. There is no denying that a rejection hurts. Although it is no longer as painful as when I started out- at that early stage I had not built up those layers of self...

I belong to a writing group, The Lazy River Writers (named after the restaurant/bar we first met not after our work habits!) and this year marks our tenth anniversary. Tenth I believe is tin- malleable yet with a strength that deceives. Fitting for the group. We began as a collection of strangers, brought together via a writing workshop run at Belgrave library. The tutor suggested that since we worked well as a group, we should keep meeting once a month. And so we have. Members have left, new ones arrived, some have left for a duration then returned. My husband often asks why a writing group? The answer is quite complex. Firstly it's for the support and understanding. All members of the LRW can relate to a month of rejections, even the nice ones. They understand the frustration when the words in our head don't magically appear on the page. They know there are the months when life intrudes and nothing gets written, those months when the best plans are tossed aside, or ...