On ducks...

 I found these ducks in a box of my mum's things and thought they might be nice for a small Easter post. 

Mum was an infant teacher and made and collected teaching aids all her life and she didn't often throw things away. These ducks are probably older than me. Anyway they got me thinking about the ducks of my childhood.

My folks were into self-sufficiency -- a kind of pre-hippy thing, and we had loads of animals, and among the various kinds of poultry, we had white muscovy ducks and lovely browny Khaki Campbell ducks, and I bet you can guess which ones I liked best.

Yep, the Khaki Campbells. They seemed somehow gentler and more friendly than the other ducks. They were my dad's favourites, too. There's something about ducks. They make me smile.

I especially loved the ducklings, little balls of cheeping tortoise-shell fluff. Sometimes not all the eggs of a nest hatched, but the mother and ducklings had moved off. In those cases my sister Jan used to hatch them herself, wrapped in old woollen jumpers and placed in the electric frypan on the lowest setting.

When the orphaned ducklings hatched, they used to follow us around, cheeping like mad. The best day was when they first discovered water. They took to it like... yeah, that. Absolute joy and delight.

These days people are coming back to self-sufficiency, but though many of my friends grow their own vegies and some fruit and some keep chickens, nobody I know keeps ducks. It's a shame. Joyful creatures, ducks. Though possibly a bit messy for suburban back yards.

What about you? Any experience with ducks? Grow your own? Yearn after a little self-sufficiency? Or do you prefer your ducks roasted?

The power of gratitude

I came across this wonderful little video. Sometimes the simplest things can be the most life-changing.


365grateful.com from hailey bartholomew on Vimeo.

A splash of scarlet

My study looks out on a fence that's usually covered by Virginia creeper and each autumn it really comes into its own. I love this time of year when one by one the deciduous plants —which are all exotic species in Australia — change color. 

I particularly love the way the Virginia creeper twines through other plants, leaving a splash of scarlet — in this case over the bronzed green leaves of my self-sown tree fern.

The Virginia Creeper is always the first. Now I'm waiting for the Japanese Maple.

What about you? What signs of the new season — autumn down under or spring in the Northern Hemisphere — are you looking forward to?

Spider and bee

When I recently went away for couple weeks, I left a matching small and large spider sharing a web near my front door. When I got home there was only the bigger spider there. It's doubled in size and is quite lovely -- in a creepy sort of way, with a velvety grey abdomen, a black and white speckled thorax and a little black heat. And the web is delicate and simply gorgeous in the misty rain. I'll try and get a photo if we get some rain or mist later.

I photographed it this morning in the process of devouring a bee. You can see the bee hanging in the web at the bottom of this pic. It's been there for at least a week.

Today, as I was watching, the spider made its move, gathering in the nicely ripened bee.

And the poor old bee is now history.

I'm wondering how large the spider will get. And also whether the smaller web-mate that was there went the same way as the bee...

And whether the spider, only a foot away from the path to my door, will deter door-to-door sales people. :)

Or maybe my friends. :(

Would you wear these?

I watched a movie on TV last night, and because I like to do stuff while I'm watching TV, I tried making some paper earrings out of my book covers. Each one only takes a few minutes. They're a miniature version of the paper decorations I made for Christmas one year.

 I thought they might be fun to give away at the ARRA convention I'm attending in a couple of weeks time.

Can you identify the books they're from?

 #1

#2

#3

#4

Here they all are together, hanging off a coffee mug.

What do you think? Should I take them to ARRA? Is it a dumb idea? 

Would you ever wear something like this?

Leave a comment or match the earrings with the books, and I'll pick someone to receive a pair of earrings made of whatever cover you want.

Post script: After Trish Morey's comment,  I made these from her book covers and some for another author friend. I gave my earrings away at ARRA and they were such a hit I might make some to take to New York in June.

A Quick Interview

I've had a slew of emails recently, asking me about this or that, but since I'm on deadline and have not a lot of time to write detailed emails,  I'm recycling a quick interview I did for a magazine. It covers some of the basics.

Why romance?

Originally I thought it would be a way to fund my literary ambitions, but the more I learned and the more widely I read, the more I grew to love the genre. It’s character driven storytelling with a feel-good ending – what’s not to love? And there’s such variety within the genre -- unlike the urban myths about romance, I have complete freedom to write the stories I want. Plus there’s a vast international market for it — I have translations in 16 languages so far, including Japanese print and manga editions.

There are hundreds of romance novels on the market at the moment. How do you come up with an original story?

It’s easy. Original characters make for an original story, and there is an endless variety of settings and situations and problems to overcome. It’s like music – there might be only eight notes, but the combinations are endless.

What was your big break into publishing?

When my first novel was shortlisted for a RITA in the USA – that’s the romance equivalent of an Oscar nomination. My books got a lot of buzz as a result and were published in the USA.

Tell us something we don’t know about being published.

I’ll tell you three things:

1)  that romance writers are the best, most supportive mates you will find anywhere in the writing world.

2) that when you get published, it’s just the beginning of a whole new learning curve.

And 3)  that writing doesn’t get easier; each book is a fresh new challenge. In fact sometimes it’s harder because you’re more aware of the market.

What are three reasons why romance manuscripts get rejected by publishers?

1) The writer has assumed romance novels don’t have the same features as all good fiction.

2) Clichéd, unbelievable or unsympathetic characters

3) Lack of emotional punch – people often confuse emotion with sex.

How has having deadlines from publishers changed the way you write and the way you think about writing? Does it ever get to be a drag?

It used to be something I did for fun, and now it’s my job, so that changes things. It can be difficult sometimes, usually when the book isn’t working, but then you’ll come at the story from a different angle and suddenly it’s all flowing again and it’s the best job in the world.

Other people dream of being a full-time writer. What does a full-time writer dream of being?

In a clean, tidy, well-run house.  ;)

A quick Tasmanian escape

Last week I took the opportunity to get away to Tasmania for a few days. For part of it I holed up in a hotel on the east coast, and wrote without interruption. It was a wonderful experience, and I wish I hadn't had to come home so soon.
I hired this little car. Cute, eh? It made me smile. I named it Cedric, after the car in the David Parker/Nadia Tass film, The Big Steal. (If you haven't seen this lovely movie, rent it out - it's fab!)

As Cedric and I wound through the hills, we drove through this... Cool, temperate rainforest. 

I stopped for lunch and wandered down this path...

...and walked along this beach. I shared the entire stretch with one woman and two little girls.

I drove on and found a hotel for the night. This was the view from my room.

And this, in the other direction, taken on a misty, moisty, drizzly day.

I ended up staying there several nights, writing and walking and writing some more. Got loads done.

Every morning and every night I walked along the beach, scrambling over rocks (which I love) or  sinking my toes in sand and small waves. This beach was right across the road from the hotel.

At night I sat quietly on the rocks and watched tiny fairy penguins, so sweet and shy and dauntless as they clambered and waddled over rocks and up the hill to their burrows, where we could hear hungry chicks cheeping imperiously.  I didn't take theses photos; I didn't want to disturb them with a flash, and I didn't have a good enough camera to take pics without.

On the last day, I continued down the east coast. I ate my lunch  on this beach and collected broken shells for a jewellery idea. I always collect shells and stones and bits of driftwood from the beach. Can't help myself, even when I know I'm flying home with only walk-on baggage.

I stopped here just to stare at the view...

And had a coffee here... 

This old cowshed must have the best view in the world, I think — cowshed-wise.

I came home with a firm resolve to organize a writers' retreat here one day.