This morning I woke up with such a luscious feeling. The sun shone brightly and I embraced all that stood before me. My plans for the day, simple, blog and organise a talk for one of our larger regional libraries.

I saw clear. Don’t you just love those moments when that happens? And before my second cup of coffee, too; forgive the grammar.


Me, smiling happily with my book

Writing my first novel, I felt scared, well that is one of those minimising understatement, the type often used here in Australia. My ignorance preceded me creating a force field. I jumped carried on the faith of the strength of the story, self-publishing because one literary agent rejected my manuscript.

Holding on with all my might, the exponential learning curve began, I learnt a lot.

Creation is an ongoing experience. The writer’s platform like a relationship between lovers needs constant attention. A social user of social media before, now I am more deliberate in my use of Instagram, Facebook and Twitter.

They become extensions of me, my persona; the author, the person who sits alone behind the computer; invisible a lot of the time. Then it pops out another book. I have just written a second novel about adolescence, the seventies and anorexia, largely undiagnosed and minimally managed at that time.

24” Waste is in the process of refinement.

Reine and Stefan are there. The child Miriam is the main character, two completely different tales in different continents unified by the characters in the plot. Reine and Stefan will live on through a third novel, one on post WWII immigration.

This novel places me back into the unknown as guileless as before Schicksal.

All the procrastinating, self-doubting behaviours begin to raise their heads but this time I know them. Ideas bang into my head during quiet times, especially in the shower. Making a plan to finish 24” Waste and submit it for publication, I will research the next book.

The sequel to Schicksal is born, today. I set my intent to write it.

An avid reader who played with words, writing short pieces of unstructured prose to clear the trauma of ICU weekends from my system, I never thought I would actually write books, doubting I had the courage.

As always, I encourage you to find you passion and pursue it. Believe in yourself.

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