This is a quick post to let everyone know where I’ve been writing this week:
Jenn J McLeod invited me to be part of her series, ‘A Letter to My Younger Self’, so I wrote to my twelve-year-old self and, as it turned out, I had a fair bit to tell her. I could have gone on and on, but I cut it down to the bare essentials …
This is your 49-year-old self here. I’m a bit stouter, creakier, and have a few more creases in my skin, but inside my head, I’m still the same as you. All of the things you love—walking in the bush, swimming in the ocean, music, reading—I still love, too. You’re still here.
I’ve learnt loads in the intervening years, though, and I’d like to share a few of them with you:
Firstly, you are a good girl and you are lovable. You should have been told this from the minute you were born, so that you’d know it inside your heart. But you weren’t. If I was with you now, I’d tell you that you’re not a bad person, you’re not selfish, and you’re not a bitch, and I’d keep telling you until you believed it …
Click here to read the rest of what I had to say to young Lou …
My piece, Freedom to Imagine, is about play and imagination and the games I played as a child.
When I was a kid, we seemed to have days and days with no commitments and nothing to do. Weekend sport hadn’t been invented, and homework could be dashed off in milliseconds, so there was plenty of time for reading and playing.
I read a lot, mainly the staples of my era: Enid Blyton, Anne of Green Gables, The Silver Brumby, and the Billabong series.
Being brought up Catholic, the Bible was rather important, too. Now there’s a book to inspire your imagination—Harry Potter has nothing on Jesus Christ; I’m yet to find anything that trumps a resurrection.
When I wasn’t reading, I was playing. When we were really young, my sister and I played with our dolls for hours on end. We made up gender-stereotyped stories about how much cooking and cleaning we had to do by the time our husbands came home from work (I still make up the same stories), and about the naughty things our children were getting up to (none of which would have been based on ourselves), as we ironed our dolls’ dresses on the toy ironing board or sipped from dainty teacups.
Click here to read more …
The Writing the Dream anthology will be released in November. I’m proud to have an essay included alongside pieces by 24 authors from all across Australia: Anna Jacobs, Tess Woods, Jenn J McLeod, Natasha Lester, just to name a few.
The stories examine how we’ve achieved—or are achieving—our dreams, the hurdles we faced, and the tips we have for aspiring writers. It’s aimed at readers as much as writers, and hopes to inspire, motivate and encourage the creative-at-heart.
Will Yeoman from The West Australian had this to say about the book:
‘…it’s the individuality and intimacy of their personal narratives which will touch and inspire you in less obviously practical but equally valuable ways…’
If you’d like to pre-order a copy, click here. A special ‘Writing the Dream’ notebook comes free with all pre-orders.
If that’s not enough to tempt you, here’s the trailer:
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