What fun, what fun! Six more books – five new and one revised.
Here they are:
Here are a couple of closer looks, which reveal that a small modification to the spine width might be required for two of the books. Must have missed that in my electronic proofing!
A Fading Voice is my memoir of my parents struggles with dementia and frailty over the last couple of years of my mother’s life. It has been revised and is essentially finished now. I’ll need to create an e-book version, but the paperback is done and dusted.
A Specialist at The Recycled Heart is self evidently speculative in nature – fishing in Mellish Street (which is bitumen, of course, and runs in front of my house, here in Beechworth) and droving the milky way are a couple of for-instances, along with heart repair, of course.
Lagoon is a memoir of the very nasty and far too prolonged Millennial drought, when the local river was reduced to the point where we could step across it, and the lagoon country around it dried up completely. The collection is in two parts. Drought generally, and the slow demise of the very last lagoon, in particular. I have had a need to print this collection for a long time. I feel, sometimes, that the role I gravitate toward is chronicler of disaster.
A Koala in the Coalmine is my recounting of the dreadful fires we experienced in 2019/20. It was my belief that I would not ever again write about bushfires after publishing Devil In The Wind, but it was New Year’s Eve in 2019 that my pen found the paper again and could not stop. Who could imagine Australians would have to flee their homes in makeshift boats and require humane care to survive at all in their own country? There is irony aplenty, sometimes.
The year 2020 didn’t miss a beat, but slipped straight into the disaster of COVID 19. Here in Victoria (Australia) we went into a Stage 1 lockdown early and it was hard. Very hard. Closed for Now is my memoir and journal of that period. I took the title from one of the hand-made signs that local shops posted in their windows to advise changes to business and life. The collection is in two parts. The second part ‘The Facility’ tells of my father’s last months and his passing in March of 2020. A popular man who was only able to have nine mourners at his graveside for the funeral and no public wake.
The Last of Eden is, again, a book of Speculative work, but this time I have collected poems that I wrote in response to visual prompts provided, usually, by my fellow bloggers, and generally sourced from Pixabay or similar locations that allow free use of created imagery. An exception is the imagery provided by Sue Vincent, which is largely drawn from her personal locale. It was my pleasure and privilege to be able to get a paperback copy of this collection delivered directly to Sue just before Christmas, particularly as she has been feeling poorly just recently.
There is currently only one book left in my quiver that is seeking development – my Ghost collection. I’ve left it to languish for awhile because . . . well, just because, really.
A couple of pics from The Last of Eden, to finish. It is hard to adequately describe how involving I found these images to be, when I allowed free rein.
One from Closed for Now.