I find that I’ve slowed down a little with this, the last tranche of my Archives project. It amused to take a screenshot of the task:
- 5 Archive books to bring the collections to 2020
- Lagoon is poetry from 2006 focusing on stories from the Millennium drought here in Australia (2001 – 2009)
- A Fading Voice is the journey through my mothers dementia (Parkinsonian), accompanied by fathers physical frailties at the same time.
- The Garden Black is what I’ve decided to title my first formal venture into Fantasy/Speculative fiction. I needed a poem to submit to my first Rainforest Writers anthology. That poem was Blue Dog, and the anthology (Short Stories of Forest and Fantasy) is here. I had to write a couple of pieces before getting one that was just right, and in the process I kept writing. Covered a lot of territory in this collection.
- The Cielonaut is the journey of a space traveler – sole survivor of his space ships liftoff from old earth. No way back, no control going forward. I’ve incorporated my work with NASA images from a while back in this collection, so it is very image-heavy (grayscale). I think it works, but we shall see. The Cielonaut was originally one poem from the Rainforest anthology collection that sort of kept growing.
- Pandemic is the working title for my first set of poems tracking and responding to the Corona virus. Our first lockdown here in Victoria. I have notions of incorporating images I took of signs in shops – closures, limitations and so on, to represent a human impact. They’re not wonderful images, but feel very ‘real’ to me. I’ve included one below – sorry if it is huge on screen. I have limited control.
- Speculative is just a placeholding title for some further deliberate speculative fiction I wrote. For instance, what will it be like when life in orbit is normal? Instead of astrophysicist astronauts, perhaps there will be ordinary Joe’s (or Jill’s) doing space-walk maintenance. Playing tricks on each other, or a snooty manager, back in the station . . . I’m also planning to include the poem/stories I’ve written to go with visual prompts provided by other bloggers, along with the images that inspired them. Like this one – Big Girl (On The Tiles) Now. It will be 2022 or later for this to be released, I suspect, so plenty of time to finish with this, in theory.
- Koala is short for Koala in a Coalmine. That is my working title for the collection of poems I wrote at the start of 2020 in response to our terrible bushfires here in Oz. It is heartbreaking to watch news and footage of other countries and communities going through the same hell.
- Ghosts is untitled yet, but has again arisen from the wish to write a single poem for the Rainforest Writers anthology that has just been released a week or so ago, called Short Stories of Ghosts and Graves. I don’t think the anthology has been released in e-book form yet. Anyway, mine is a sweet tale of murder/suicide (as you do!). It led me to write more, as seems usually to be the case. My take on this subject has to some extent been to focus on the ghosts we carry around with us in daily life, not necessarily the dead. I will possibly record a reading of my contribution (coming) for Youtube when I get a chance. My own ghosts collection if I ever get it finished won’t be for release until 2022, I suspect, as I will want to include ‘coming in it. It’s a powerful piece.
I have posted my proposed cover for The Cielonaut a little while back. I have two more covers done (unless Leanne throws them out and does some better ones . . .).
This is what I’ve done for A Fading Voice, to this point. The image is of remnants of a dandelion flower.
The cover for The Garden Black collection. This has been a bit of a nightmare to decide on a title I’m happy with. Luckily, I still had some one wild, black rose left, at the back of the garden . . .
Anyway, that’s where this project is up to. I uploaded 3 draft books to IngramSpark yesterday, and hopefully will move forward fairly quickly from here with the five remaining archive collections, at least. I’m growing weary of the effort and discipline that is needed to complete it.
~
Oooooh, a ghostly collection … I wait with bated breath (and dreamcatcher).
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Feels like a bunch of old burdens and commitments that are finally being dealt with Cage. I’m hoping it will pave the way to new contemplations, but can’t be sure, really.
The dreamcatcher may well be helpful! Footsteps in the hallway (outside the nursing home bedroom door)
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Dreamcatchers are often helpful with wandering ghosts, especially in places where peoples minds left the body a living shell that then didn’t know when to stop.
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You know, I actually wrote a poem about that for that collection . . .
Similar, at least.
Or, it sounded familiar . . . a bit
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When I first encountered dreamcatchers – my belated hippy era, or equivalent, I thought they were magnificent objects. Filled with mystery and beauty. I lived the idea of them.
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Me, too, but my dreamcatchers were pieces of art my Nan made to keep the from sneaking in when no one was looking.
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Clever woman, your Nan.
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Pandemic — an appropriate title for the year! Just today, our Governor announced the tightest lockdown we’ve had since early summer, with virtually everything except grocery stores closed for the next 3 weeks, and orders not to leave home if you don’t have to (exercise & fresh air excepted — BUT —
Koala in a Coalmine — I awoke this morning to news of two serious brush fires in areas where we recently had other fires, and the number has grown during the day to 5 or 6 serious fires. Winds are back, and one of the fires (the Bond Fire) was doubling its acreage every 2-3 hours earlier today! Another apt title for one of your collections!
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