As Saturday progresses, one can’t be accused of lazing the day away.
This year is flying and sometimes I just want to grab it and say slow down. Other times, I grab it by the shirt tails and hold on for my life!
Thankfully, writing is not just sitting in draughty garrets with guttering candles and quills worn to stubs and ideas fluttering to the floor like so much rubbish.
Good things come one’s way…
I’ve always been a fan of Michael Jecks. His writing is the kind we all crave to publish – writing that flows from one page to the next (and in all the best timeframes). But his Youtube writing videos are excellent also and most recently, I have lusted after his country rambles with the dogs, the kind of country walking that makes bells ring in my soul. Which makes me wonder where will be his ‘desert island’ and what will he choose to read?
Croise devant, port de bras, demi-plie…
These expressions came creeping out of dark corners of my brain this week as I went to my first ballet class since I was a child.
Ballet class – me – at the age of 65!
Why for heavens’ sake? I’m a writer, not some frustrated prima ballerina. Not even almost retired Galena at the back of the corps de ballet!
This is my bay.
It also belongs to many other people – the people of Tasmania. These are State waters, a beautiful sea that has provided occupation, recreation and ambience for many lifetimes of both indigenous people and newcomers.
When I talk of occupation, I talk of professions. I talk of fishermen – generations who have caught wild fish for a living. I had an uncle who was a professional fisherman. He would take his boat out and fish between the continental shelf and the shore of Tasmania, catching all manner of fish for the markets. But he fished sustainably and treated the ocean and what lived in it with respect, knowing that to over-fish would be cutting his nose to spite his face.
Today, a young family friend is also a professional fisherman, but thanks to climate change and an ecology altering by the day, his catch is sporadic and difficult.
Times have changed…
UK writer, Alex Martin and I became acquainted a couple of years ago – I discovered her wonderful WWI novel, Daffodils, and from that moment, became an ardent fan. This book and its sequels are the kinds of novels from which TV series are made. It was only natural that I include Alex on my Desert Island guest list – we share a lot in common – coasts, dogs, herbs, French countryside, and of course, we are both indie writers.
I ‘met’ Annie online last year and rapidly became a fan of her work and her informed blogposts on Dark Age history. We share something of a love of light and life and Annie has humour that appeals. It was only natural then that I invite her to be my first guest on Desert Island Books so that we can learn more about the Inner Annie (try saying that fast!). She admits to cheating but I don’t mind. Over to Annie and her Top Ten…