Reflecting on the year that was 2016 -
it’s been my manuscript year. Yes, I completed it! I began my memoir five years ago but had neglected it for two of those years…
having a mentor made a huge difference and I committed myself to rising at 5am every day, except for a few weeks break to attend a family wedding… my writing days were fraught with picking at my nails -an old childhood habit - numerous cups of tea with a biscuit - my waistline has ballooned - and 5pm drinking wine sessions with my drinking buddy on the end of the phone in Q (I’m in Victoria)
today I will be a Blogger, a beginner blogger - to continue my leap into the modern world of communication…that is part of the writers’ life… unfamiliar to me.
I grew up with my head buried in books with hardcovers and dust jackets, typical of children whose world was filled with stories of the Famous Five and Biggles - yes, I’m old, well, ancient really, but like book lovers of my generation, we continue to read any form of book with just as much pleasure, although I still like to hold the book. Rarely do I get to indulge in that new book smell… delicious crisp notes of black ink on smooth unblemished paper, promising a world of intrigue as the letters shape themselves into words, building into sentences, long and short, paragraphs that flow into chapters, and suddenly it’s a book.., actually not that suddenly..
In 2017 I will be reading for a different purpose - I’ve joined a book club. The reading list has been decided so there will be 10 books to struggle through, to fall in love with, to be confronted by, to leave me lingering, thoughts swirling, wanting more…turning pages quickly or slowly..
Have you ever enjoyed a book so much you can’t put it down - but put off getting to the end - because you can't bear to have it finish - wanting it to go on and on… such was a book I read after meeting the author, Tim Cope and Tigon, his dog at a Melbourne Writers Festival.
I felt as though I was on Tim’s epic journey across the vast expanse of grasslands, salt pans, desert and mountains, as he travelled on the trails of nomads and Genghis Khan… I didn’t want it all to end, but it wasn’t me who spent nights almost frozen in a tent, worrying about the horses being stolen or attacked by wolves, endless days trekking, hoping to find food and water, fixing broken gear… along with Tigon, his unwanted ( at first) companion who stole his heart and mine, but it was Tim's description of this harsh landscape, both beautiful and dangerous, that stayed with me, filling my days with visions of a far-away world..
A few days ago I was captivated by nature resplendent at dusk - far from the Eurasian Steppes of Tim’s journey, and I wonder how he would describe it....