Look and Listen

Biography

My early childhood was spent on the fish-scale decks of a fishing fleet rather than with dolls while trying to ignore the abusive reality of an alcohol tainted household. That episode in my life came to an abrupt end one night with a car chase across state borders and a new life that was suddenly devoid of a father. Ten years passed and a shy, young girl of seventeen left home with no money, no where to go but with big dreams of being a marine biologist in search of... who knows? I didn't end up following my heart to be a scientist for once I was told how much it was going to cost, I left the University teary-eyed and defeated before I even begun. I then spent the next few years in the north of beautiful Queensland discovering life, in all its good and bad points, until I unwittingly fell in love with a soldier. We travelled Queensland after he left and then my fiance took me from a seaside town to the big daunting city of Melbourne to meet his family. For a few years after that I rebelled against many things including his vovacious, charming ways that saw him always surrounded by women. Of course I lost, but only for a short time till I matured emotionally enough to realise he had never been unfaithful but that girls are just attracted to men that are witty, charming and empathic. I instead became an Avionics Engineer until an interstate visit from my mother saw us visit my ex -fiance's parents which we had never lost touch with. Somehow that one visit for coffee reunited my ex-fiance and I. Not long after, we resolved a few differences and reunited permanently. Within the year, our first child was on the way and so was our first house. During my stint with the aviation industry, I discovered the passion for ten pin bowling and became part of the intercontinental bowling team that went to Switzerland, Honk Kong and India. Little did I appreciate at the time the amazing journey I had been privileged to be apart of. Not to mention that all those spare hours waiting for planes to come in to undergo maintainence and the lunch hours that I spent jotting scenes and ideas in my little notebook was the beginning of my writing career. With the company I worked for dissolving, not long after the birth of my second child, it wasn't hard to spent all my spare time sitting at a table between feeding babies, writing. That was when I first joined a writer's group and sent away poetry that had been hidden away in draws and seriously looked at a writing course which I completed just weeks before the birth of my third child. Then a relocation interstate saw this bustling family of five arise out of the hundreds of pages of loose writing and into the future with the arrival of our first computer. What followed of course was numerous computer crashes, upgrades and a half dozen children stories tentatively sent off to editors, and returned declined. Then we finally had our last child, while two of the older ones started their journey in school. I have managed during the time since I traded being an Avionics Engineer for being an engineer more of a domestic type, to have three poems published and rewritten my first serious fantasy novel a dozen times too many, trying to become a perfect author! Many people have read and loved it and tried to tell me there is no such thing as a perfect author. Some even pointed out in our massive home library the typos that the professional have let slip. Somehow that truth has still has not sunk in but at least I have submitted the first six chapters of my novel (with much heart racing trepidation) to the one and only agent I have ever wanted, who is in the U.K. This may or may not have been the most sensible thing I have done and I will never know if I have prematurely ruined my chances of acceptance but I felt after so many years I had to do something professional. Although the only agent I have chosen so far, did not accept my manuscript, he did offer a friendly and in depth reply that was very uplifting for my novice shoulders and shaky confidence. The most exciting thing he mentioned was that he could not pinpoint fault with my story and even though it is not what he believes is in the publishers interest, I can not say anything but praise for this agent for his mannerism. Nor has it deterred me from writing, much less persuing my dream of publication, which awaits, but not for the faint-hearted.

Inspiration

There are always many things that define a person, their travels, their friends, their family and among many other important things, the authors they read that make them cry and laugh and think. The late David Gemmel did that for me and more. He made me feel I was there traveling with his mismatched bunch of unassuming heroes as they fought the bad guys while living in the most extra-ordinary circumstances. I was saddened yet strengthened by his own life's adversities and crushed by his death. For me he filled a yearning niche of believable heroes that I wished for in my father's absence after my parents violent separation when I was a kid. But back to the realm of reality, it is my adoring fantasy/sci-fi fanatical husband with no undeserved sugary words to offer that peeped over my shoulder one day and asked what was I writing. When I shrugged and told him it was just some stuff I made up, he requested to read it. His interest in my tentative steps as a writer was sparked from a three page spontaneous fantasy blurb that has since stretched to an idea for at least three books. What has followed since those early days of being a first time mum, ten years ago has been a writers course, four children, an upgrade from pen and hundreds of pieces of paper (god help the trees)to a computer- upgrade three times and at least a million words, plus who knows how many edits and redrafts with a blunt and critical, loving sidekick pushing my: 'I want to be a great author, but I'm scared of failing...' butt towards my goal of finally finishing the first book in a fantasy trilogy. Another inspiration is my mother, not so much for what she has done, which was courageous in a time of no support for abused women, but on what she has not done. Like me, my mother is writer and a poet who has had her poetry published and her first short story published back in the late seventies in an Australian women's magazine. Even though she still writes to this day, it is her own doubts and self sabotage that has never seen anything else put in the mail to an editor or agent. I know she is talented for I have read her material since I was young and I have edited many of her stories for competitions. But I can not unfortunately replace her confidence to get her work out there for her success. For this fact I know I must prove not just to me, but to her, my husband and four adoring children that I am more than a, 'wanna be writer'. Finally, on a sad note, it is also the estrange relationship with my father who recently died from lung cancer that has probably helped to push my lack of confidence into a conquerable corner. Sometimes it takes something traumatic to wake you up and realise that it's too late when your dead to keep wondering what if I would have, could have, should have, done something. So, for his rested soul that I barely knew but wish I had attempted to reach beyond the lonely, reserved handsome man with the larconic smile that taught me how to fish, to uncover his true story. Instead I am left to delve into the depths of his own traumatic and harsh upbringing that created a talented musician who never left the pub scene in every sense of the word, and to ponder my own fate. One thing I have come to realise is that only I am responsible for putting my feet on the path to the success I have always wanted but have been too scared to reach for... till now. In the literary sense, it is the encouraging comments from friends and an early stint in a writer's group many years ago that provoked the thought that people liked what I wrote and that my facy to be a writer was given a confidence boost. But my most heartfelt writing inspiration comes from David Gemmell who was one of the many amazing fantasy writers I have ever read. His death last year was a profound shock. His amazing characters and adventures give us all a chance to live in a time of heroes that overcome the gravest odds to achieve what they believe and stand for. It is yet another wake up call to get moving on life before it eats me up and leaves me for dust as well.