Taken all the raw material, transcripts, letters, anecdotes, etc etc, and finally found a way into the story... looking for an in, some sort of portal, threshold, door. Looking and wandering through the forest of words all the time thinking to myself, there's got to be a way into the story somewhere. A beginning, a good hook that gets the reader turning the first page before they even register they've read four or five paragraphs. I'm very pleased with it thus far. It reads so much better, got a good flow.
So, I'm on my way... again. And thats the nature of writing, I've said it before and yeah I'll say it again, its all about tenacity, holding on to the dream, the goal, never giving up. Never. Was going to spell that in capitals...
NEVER GIVE UP
Like a true soldier I'll see the campaign through and I'm loving the revisiting of all the interviews and all the amazing people I've spoken too. I treat that part of it very seriously, they have given their time and said use whatever you need, including sending old maps, photos and precious momentos. They have bestowed all onto me and I feel very privileged. I feel too, being Franks niece and being a woman in a mostly male domain regarding the subject matter - this has endeared me to a lot of these old fellas. And I know my subject, I can keep up with them, they appreciate that I do.
For me its not about the hunting. I'm interested in social history and how our collective past is shaped by specific historic activities and occupations that dont exist anymore. Thats what my passion is and thats what drives me. Its the stories from everyday people that inspire me as a writer.
Been reading Rex Forrester books. He has some interesting thoughts on the deer cullers personality, and interestingly I have just been writing that section in the manuscript. My interview with Gerald Goodger touches on the same thoughts. That they were mostly outcasts, some shy, some antisocial, they were good at being left alone, didn't like being told what to do, liked to explore and forge their own paths.
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Upon the upland road
Ride easy stranger
Surrender to the sky
Your heart of anger
JK Baxter
That's the ones that made it past the first season. The stayers. Jack Wildermoth remembers new recruits hightailing it out of the bush in droves. He'd pass them on the tracks never to return. He did eighteen seasons, he knows some things. And Jack's one of my all time favourite cullers, he's an absolute salt of the earth guy. Tough as they come with a heart as big as a camp oven. He started out working in the Westcoast coal mines at sixteen. His father died and he had to provide for his mother and younger sister. Thats what I'm talking about. Thats what drives me.
I interviewed Jack at his home with my mum knitting on his sofa. I said to mum, 'could be a long day, Jack likes to talk, bring your crossword book and your knitting.'
Well I have to go, got a book to write. Its been the longest hiatus between posts ever, but the traffic is still constant from around the globe. Thank you everyone, and remember to look back through the old posts, there's some good stories and photos to check out.
Louise x
