Spirit Moments The sheoak whispers and wails A wattlebird warbles and whistles The laughing bird claims the tree – my tree, my tree, mine A possum tail flicks high in the red gum Silver-green leaves dance in the morning light Shivers of bark peel and curl and swirl down the trunk The ancient tree … Continue reading Poems


Well, Because It’s Wednesday, and I Promised

However, I left out the part about exactly what I promised. I have an excuse. A good one. Valid. 'Flu. It's the first bout I've been afflicted with since 2001 (or thereabouts - who the hell remembers specifics that far back when in the throes of death?). If I had the energy, I'd go dig … Continue reading Well, Because It’s Wednesday, and I Promised

The right way to write?

Adding voice to style … how does it go?

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

There was a bit of a conversation going on yesterday over at Serendipity about finding your voice as a writer. It is something with which many writers are preoccupied and with reason. Your voice is your signature. The tone, the flow, even the choice or repetition of words will, if you are lucky, make your work appeal to a reader.

For a writer, the best thing in the world is to know you have been read and that what you have written has been enjoyed or has struck a chord with a reader. Most of the time, we just don’t know… a book goes out into the world and we hear very little unless we are fortunate enough to get a review. Sales don’t matter in that respect… they only show that a book has been bought…you still don’t know whether they were even read. The odd review or…

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A Muse in the . . .

I was inspired by( https://dailytales.com.au/2018/05/04/195-the-tale-of-a-story-never-told/), and decided to reblog my own version of the wandering story-beings.

Cage Dunn: Writer, Author, Teller-of-tall-tales

What is the word for a whole passel of muses? Multiple voices yelling that it’s time they had a chance to say something?

Musae – that’s what it is. Hundreds of them, hanging around, waiting – not quietly – for their chance in the sun (or words). But they never shut up, never go away, never leave the mind at peace. Never.

In the bath, and my other half comes in, asks “you okay?”, I say “yeah, we’re fine.” he says “we?” I say “yeah, me and my muse – it’s telling me a story.”

True. This happens all the time. I don’t think I’ll live long enough to tell all the stories that come to me that way. Too many.

I worked it out once (this thought came from the muse of numbers). If I wrote ten books a year, I’d have to live for at least another fifty years to…

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