Favourite Books from 2015

What were your favourite reads in 2015?

The Writer’s Festival in the grounds of the University of Western Australia is always a feast for me and this year’s selection in February, more than lived up to past presentations.

Liz Byrski spoke about her non-fiction book, ‘In Love and War,’ which I have only recently read. Her fear of the injured men who returned from the war, many with faces so badly burned that they appeared to the young Liz as almost inhuman, made me hesitate. I love Byrski’s fiction, particularly her ability to draw me into the lives of her characters. This latest book is nothing like them and I felt that it dragged a bit, but it was worth the effort to stick with her journey in revisiting the site and interviewing as many of the survivors and the nurses who cared for them, as she could find.

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Colours – Grey

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Grey is not one of my favourite colours, but I think it depicts the emotional state of someone experiencing this kind of loss and grief.

The ocean’s rhythm

GREY

She watches the sun set then gathers her jacket closer to her chest. Under her bare feet the sand feels crunchy. It makes a squelching sound with each step. The water whispers ‘Sh-sh-sh,’ then retreats with an inward sigh, as if drawing breath before rushing back to the shore.

Toes half-buried in the sand, the woman waits. No matter how hard she tries to resist, the shock of that first splash catches her breath and forces a short, sharp squeak from her. Two waves later and her response is childlike. She rolls her trackpants higher and dances along the water’s edge, swaying in and out with the ocean’s rhythm.

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Colours – Yellow

This is another of my pieces inspired by colour.

Laughter is yellow

and birds in spring

a summer’s day

with boats and kites

and children playing in a garden;

a little girl on twirling toes

a kitten chasing a ball.

Yellow is smooth

it’s full of joy

a hymn of praise

a word of thanks

a kiss from a child

and friendship.

Purple

Purple is my favourite colour. I wrote this piece several years ago; I hope my new followers will enjoy it and those of you who have read it before, won’t mind reading it again. The flowers are from my garden.

Purple sits on mountain tops. It tugs your soul at the moment of daylight into dusk and hangs in the air when a heavenly fragrance wafts past. It lives in the taste buds of a chocolate connoisseur and of course truffles, excellent brie and fine Russian caviar have more than a touch of purple in their chemistry.

Purple is the sound of a Beethoven symphony. It is the colour of majesty, commanding homage from those who wait in awe for the moment when purple sweeps into view, adorning the triumphant.

Moods of purple are sensuous, evocative, illogical to the browns and greens of this world. A mystical aura envelops those with purple souls. Dancers, like Fonteyn and Nureyev, were swathed from head to pointed toe in every shade of purple; a soft and frothy mauve for lighter moods, the tragedies all dark and swirling into tindered sumptuousness.

Unpredictable, tantalizing, never moderate or mundane, purple is renowned for extremes. Pavarotti is purple; an excellent example of the soul, the talent and temperament of this colour. Tempered and trained, never fully controlled, it flashes brilliance or leaves one in despair. Reliable it is not. Gentle and tender are not the norm, but purple also comes in pansies, soft as wood-smoke.

To live with a purple soul is at once the epitome of heaven and hell, difficult for all when the mood is dark, but a journey through the stars when it soars.

Istanbul – The Taxi Route

I have just discovered another story that I wrote about my Turkish trip in 2013. Some of you may have read it, but I think it’s amusing and hope my newer followers enjoy it

Chora Museum at the top of the hill

After visiting the Chora Museum in Istanbul, our intention is to find an ancient wall, supposedly nearby. We set off, walking down a laneway, where our interest is captured by an old man with a white beard and moustache, leaning out of a window and chatting with a neighbour standing near us. He wears a small black fez pushed back to reveal a smattering of white hair and large ears. His face is lean, his nose long and his teeth are yellowing.

Leaning further out of the window, he smiles and waves to us, his pose creating the perfect photo for my collection of interesting characters. I wonder if he does this on a regular basis and wish it was possible to converse with him. We manage a Turkish thank you – te shekir edeem – as we wave goodbye; he disappears behind the potted red geranium on his window sill.

We continue walking down the hill, stopping everyone who might be able to point us in the direction of the elusive wall but, as we can’t speak Turkish and they don’t speak English, we have no luck.

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Lesmurdie Library Reviews

On Tuesday evening, the 24th November, my author presentation went very well at the Lesmurdie Library. I am now relaxed about doing these presentations and everyone enjoyed the evening. Most members of the audience bought at least one book and several bought three.

The library put on drinks and tasty nibbles before the talk, giving me the opportunity for a quick word with my audience. Review sheets were placed on each chair and I am delighted to report that everyone rated the evening as excellent or very good. Here are a few comments:

‘Most interesting talk and Victoria covered many aspects of writing.’

‘Well spoken presentation. Lots of info. on the book.’

‘Great to hear a local author speak, especially about life in WA.’

Each audience is different, but all the libraries I have attended have been most helpful and welcoming. I am keen to speak at other libraries and to expand my audience to any groups interested in books and writing. If you know of any, please let me know.

Friends In My Garden – Rose

Rose

I have a rose

a special rose

whose petals bloom

in shades of white

for her heart is pure,

to the crimson of enduring love.

Her stems have no thorns.

As near to perfect as a rose can be

with blossoms full blown

and budding heads held high

she’s a friend to treasure,

cherished and admired

by all who know her beauty.

Lesmurdie Library

I think this will be my last presentation for 2015, so please join me if you can.

Friends In My Garden: Owl

Owl

My friend owl

is a friend of many years.

He perches on the fence

sometimes a little wary

to join in the babble of the crowd

but when he does

they respond with hilarity

to the jokes he tells

for owl is witty as well as wise.

His nest is in a neighbouring tree

close enough to hear my call.

A quiet ear

a word of sense

he brings when I’m in need.

Sometimes there’s a tasty treat

a special prize he’s caught.

Often he’ll stop for a chat

we eat and drink

and soon there’s a bit of a party

as others hear our merriment

and drop in to join the fun

for my friend owl is a clever owl

who knows how to make others happy.

Dunsborough Library and South West Retailers

At Dunsborough Library

I recently spent a few days in and around Dunsborough, presenting ‘The Green Velvet Dress’ in the library, where I enjoyed the scones and coffee and sold copies to all who attended.

I then took my novel to book shops and interesting galleries between Dunsborough and Boranup. I now have four new outlets (see on my list under ‘Buy the Book’ ) and the library has two copies.