Most people who want to write a novel probably already have a good idea about what they want to write about. It’s the idea that fuels the desire, and keeps you up at night (or, if you are like me, wakes you up early in the morning, kind of like the family pet, helpfully licking your face to let you know the sun is about to come up). I understand, however, that it is a source of mystery for many. And perhaps some of them would like to write a novel if only they could work out

When I ambitiously started this little project, apart from ruthlessly choosing to split an infinitive or two in the quest for conversational style, not to mention other grammatical anomalies, I had visions of a neat, linear group of posts that would follow one from the other and provide a guiding light for others who, like me, are on the never ending quest for knowledge. Ha. Ha. And then I started thinking. Learning to write is not a sequential process. It is an amorphous who

This is me at the moment... it's school holidays, but I've got most of the planning out of the way for next term after something of a marathon effort over the last few weeks of term, and the first week of the hols. There are still one or two things I should probably get done, but I'm comfortable we're all set for a good start... so, time to write? I can hardly believe it. I sit in front of the computer... bliss... ...and check facebook. I've a couple of friends who are travel

Imagine yourself here, wandering along this old track above the creek. The breeze is chill, but the sun is warm. Under your feet, old, dry leaves and twigs crackle and crunch with every step, birds are flittering around you, swooping and diving to catch the insects your movement disturbs, and you can hear the gentle babble of the creek as it wends its way down the the gully. It is your time, just you on this quiet track through the bush, with no need to rush or be anywhere