Celebrating Independent Authors
Regardless of your beliefs ‒ justify it in whatever way you have to ‒ if you stick to a particular path long enough the universe is likely to tap you on the shoulder one day and say, ‘Tag! You’re it!’
Oftentimes, beforehand, you are unaware that things are about to change. Be it good, bad or indifferent; stay on the same track long enough and you are going to collide with the train of destiny. Continue reading “On Track With Destiny”
With the assistance of my trusty editor/partner in crime and beloved wife, Zoë Lake, I conducted a writer’s workshop seminar on the first of June this year. This Devonport Writers Workshop group, organised by Fay Forbes, has been running consistently, September through May, every year for the past eighteen years and each year the workshop participants produce an anthology of their work: poetry, essays, flash fictions, slice of life short stories and much more. Within this diverse group of individuals: school teachers, bush poets, business men and women, and housewives, who write for the sheer joy of writing, are many talented writers; some of whom have been published. Continue reading “From Inspiration to Publication”
Like every subject to do with writing, this is a theme that comes up ‘time and time again’; there that didn’t take long did it?
The origin of the word cliché is, not surprisingly, French. The French first used the word to describe the sound that a matrix, or a mould with letters on it, made when being dropped into molten metal to make a printing plate. Well, the meaning has certainly come a long way since then.
There are various interpretive descriptions of ‘the cliché’, depending on which dictionary or thesaurus you consult, but this one describes it well enough for most readers to grasp its meaning: an original saying, phrase, work of art or part thereof that, through continual use, becomes trite and unimaginative; or this, the cliché can be an expression imposed by conventionalised linguistic usage. Continue reading “The Cliché”
Over the years, before Indies Unlimited, I wrote by myself for myself; until whatever I was writing was ready for publication no one but me, apart from my editor, heard the sound of my voice.
I suppose I’ve always been a bit of a loner. I’ve never played or supported any sporting teams; in fact games of any description have never interested me. What pastimes I do have (and I use that term loosely) are quite solitary affairs and so it probably comes as no surprise that I’m pretty much a loner with my writing too. I used to think that was part and parcel of being a writer, I therefore felt a kinship with those iconic, and supposedly reclusive, writers I had always held in high regard. Continue reading “Howling at the Moon”