Life is never predictable, my memoirs are full of the unexpected; so no reader should be surprised that I am currently writing the third book in my Alaskan memoir series, "Dancing on the Tundra" in the sticky heat of tropical Queensland. Each day I step into some chilly memories of my Alaskan life, then venture out into muggy Australian summer storms, to investigate shops, watch people, enjoy fresh sushi and at times interact with other writers.
I have kicked myself, "You needed to bring more books here to share". Local writers and libraries are keen to hear more, but I didn't think to pack extra books. I will need to do that on my return trip, late November.
From my writer's perch that overlooks the city, I enjoy spectacular views that change throughout the day. Currently the soft lavender of many jacaranda trees in bloom are powdering the green and orange landscape with random soft smoky-blue smudges. Thick cumulus clouds in every shade of grey gather each afternoon as the city waits expectantly for yet another tropical downpour. The caw of birds and hum of trains is broken by the sounds of a city rubbish truck, a distant saw or a child's cry. We all live close here, so different from the Tasman country life that is my usual writer's nest. I am distracted by thoughts of coffee at the local mall, a promise to keep when I have written just a little more....coffee or writing?
Yeah, okay, okay...back to the writing!
I have kicked myself, "You needed to bring more books here to share". Local writers and libraries are keen to hear more, but I didn't think to pack extra books. I will need to do that on my return trip, late November.
From my writer's perch that overlooks the city, I enjoy spectacular views that change throughout the day. Currently the soft lavender of many jacaranda trees in bloom are powdering the green and orange landscape with random soft smoky-blue smudges. Thick cumulus clouds in every shade of grey gather each afternoon as the city waits expectantly for yet another tropical downpour. The caw of birds and hum of trains is broken by the sounds of a city rubbish truck, a distant saw or a child's cry. We all live close here, so different from the Tasman country life that is my usual writer's nest. I am distracted by thoughts of coffee at the local mall, a promise to keep when I have written just a little more....coffee or writing?
Yeah, okay, okay...back to the writing!
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