Had something of a disturbed night last night (women's troubles, so move on quickly if you're a man!) and was up for an hour or so at 3am before I felt able to go back to bed again. I read my copy of the Writers' News competition supplement and was much surprised to see (whilst groaning and clutching a hot-water bottle to my stomach) that I'd been shortlisted in the Betjeman poetry competition. I hadn't even been aware I'd entered it actually. Maybe they just recognise talent when they see it and these days I don't even have to enter in order to get an award?? I ruddy wish, eh!! Anyway, I've queried it with them, so let's see what they say. In the meantime, roll on the menopause ...

Lord H and I have spent most of the day at Arundel Wetlands Centre and a lovely time we had too. We managed to see two kestrels, two nuthatches, a zillion and one greylag geese and a peculiar thing that was halfway between a grouse and a ptarmigan. So Lord alone knows what that was. I was also very brave and took the boat safari, which Lord H was very keen to do. How I hate boats! Mind you, the initial terror was worth it as we saw a kingfisher perched on a branch and - for once - it stayed there for ages so we had an A++ view. Fabulous. Plus there were Little Grebes, so that was definitely worth it too. The woman steering the boat did terrify me at the end though when she admitted that she'd run out of power (and therefore the ability to steer) and would have to rely on the landing stage to stop the darn thing. Okay, it wasn't going very fast, but I at least noticed the jolt ... And squeaked. Dammit ...

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A dreadful pun to annouce my appointment as the site host for Fiction II on the Writewords site.

I was bit unsure if I should take the plunge and apply for the spot, but a few emails here and there convinced me that I ought to.



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Managed to get through last night okay. I have to say it was fine, but I did feel really uncomfortable a couple of times and utterly exhausted when it was over. Seeing the old University gals is in some ways like revisiting a section of my past that is long since over. I'm not convinced I'm that person any more. At all. They did talk about meeting up later in the year, but I kept my mouth shut (now, there's a novelty ...) as I honestly don't want to. It makes me feel I'm wearing a coat that no longer fits. Hell, I've just said the same thing twice, but I rather like the coat image, so I'm keeping it in. Anyway, it was just soooooo good to be home! And Lord H had done some cleaning while I was out too, so now has way too many SuperHusband Points. I just can't keep up, sigh ...

This morning, I opened my copy of Writing Magazine to discover I've been shortlisted in the Tanka competition. Yattah! As Hiro would say. That's certainly given me a boost. If only I could ruddy well remember what a tanka actually is (or even be bothered to look it up), I would write more of them. Bugger, eh ...

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I did get some answers on my question about the novella, and have come to the conclusion that it is really more related to the short story than the novel. I thought I should read more so asked if anyone knew any off hand and got two so far which I'll try to get from the library today. My local writing group meet there so it's all quite handy. I've been popping in on this group for the past year, whenever I was in Glasgow, and it never occurred to me to actually join the library

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"It is by honouring the memory of great men that
one inspires greatness in others."
Hyacinthe de Bougainville 8th September 1825

This blog is a recording of my journey as I get to know a botanist, Allan Cunningham, who dedicated his life to science in the early 1800s.

After coming across his grave site in the middle of the Sydney Botanic Gardens, I was inspired to get to know him. The moss covered plaque, on his memorial, simply saying that Allan Cunningham, Botanist Explorer 1791-1839 was buried at the spot, drew me in. I'd never heard of him and my curiosity twinkled like a bright light.

My interest was further fueled by the words Ida Lee, an Historian, wrote back in 1925, when she realised that she was too ill to complete her work recording the story of Allan Cunningham. She regretfully acknowledged : "owing to illness continually hampering my efforts I have been unable to carry out my original intentions. I therefore trust that in due course an abler writer will deal with what I have omitted and do Cunningham's memory the justice it so richly deserves" (Ida Lee, "Early Explorers in Australia" 1925). It was like an invitation. No so much that I am an abler writer, more so that she thought the man "richly deserves" to be remembered.

Since discovering the grave I have done some extensive research. The more I know about this kindly brave and dedicated man, the more I am driven by excitement and enthusiasm to record his story. His is a story of tenacity, courage, commitment, curiosity and passion, it's an adventure story. If I tell this story well, the reader will be able to follow in the footsteps of this man's life journey and will be rewarded with the knowledge that so much can be achieved with just a little passion, perseverance and tenacity.

During the early 1800's he participated in some of the major British expeditions in Australia, on land and on sea. Allan Cunningham's drive was not fueled by a desire for fame and fortune. He did it because he was curious and he was given the opportunity. He had a tenacious spirit that allowed him to over-ride his frail and often sickly physique and pursue his need to know.

His ancestors were Scottish. The influence of the Scottish Enlightenment and the Scottish psych on our hero cannot be ignored.

The method for recording this story has not yet been "nailed down". At this stage I think it is a six part television documentary series accompanied by a book, similar to the method Michael Palin used in his documentary series, Hemingway's Adventure.

The story incorporates at least six major adventures, travels across the oceans of the world when longitude measurement was in in its infancy, scientific study and the naming of plants identified for the first time by Europeans in the global landscape. The story is a visual one and could be illustrated with many wonderful images from our treasure trove of historical art left behind by our ancestors plus high quality photography will be used to give a window into the geography of the story.

The story is populated by some wonderful characters. AC knew so many of the history makers during the Macquarie era and several years after. He was a member of important scientific societies of his time. For example the Linnaeus Society. He was well educated and well read. He corresponded with many eminent scientists in the field of Botany.

How did he become the man he was?

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I was so impressed with myself yesterday; I wrote a whole piece, edited and polished it to what I hope is publishable standard, then emailed it to The Guardian. It's in letter form, an 800wds first person account for their Saturday supplement family page. So my fingers will be well-crossed until I hear from them. I also got around 500wds on the novel; a good day, for me.


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Well, it's good to pack in as much as you can in a day, you know. Besides, I had to get up early as my hairdresser was arriving at 8.30am to attempt to make me look like a normal human being. And when Lynda says 8.30am, she actually means 8.10 but she'll have been waiting outside the flat since 7.30. For very early morning appointments, it's probably not worth going to bed at all. And you may as well invite her in for supper.

Anyway, she's been and done her thing and gone, with the result that I look unexpectedly stylish as long as I don't move fast in high winds. 'Twas ever thus ... And of course it'll all be ruined (ruined, dahlings, ruined!) when I wash it myself tomorrow. I never really know what to do with a hairdryer and a brush (careful, people, careful ...) - it's like tackling Mount Everest with a pair of sandals and a screwdriver, and hoping to get to the peak by noon ...

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With the upcoming release of Unrequited, I'm becoming more and more excited. My skin fairly tingles with anticipation. Well, it has been nearly a four year wait from having been offered a publishing contract to actually seeing the book in the flesh...

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Was much amazed yesterday when I came home to find an acceptance for two of my poems by “Seventh Quarry” magazine. Joy indeed! And huge thanks to editor, Peter Thabit Jones, for being kind enough to say yes. Twice. I’m always astonished when anyone takes any of my stuff really – it’s just so unusual an occurrence! But – heck – always welcome. I have to read the email or letter at least three times before I can even begin to believe it. Anyway, it was a lovely extra surprise for our anniversary day.

This morning, I have run around campus collecting copies of our Freshers’ talks DVD and distributing it to the needy. I was hugely excited as I found a completely new route from Student Advice to the Counselling Centre that I’d never trodden before. Spooky really … it was certainly very shadowy and narrow. Hmm, perhaps I was in the twilight zone. It’s possible. Anyway, I don’t think I’ll ever find it again so I don’t think there’s any cause for concern. Yet ...

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I am a single mum, juggling full time work during the day with writing my book at night. I always think of writing in terms of food. Kenkey, fish and black fried pepper is the first dish that springs to mind whenever anyone asks me what I would choose for my last dish on this earth. It's the sort of meal that sits in the belly and tingles the taste buds long after you have washed the sticky white kenkey from your finger tips and picked out bits of fish from your teeth. I love eating it with friends; sitting on the floor in a circle around the food, or in one of those lovely Ghanaian restaurants that encourage you to eat with your fingers. I feel a wonderful guilty pleasure when I eat it on my own, because I tend to over eat, with more kenkey than I need and blow-your-head-off hot pepper, chased down with gallons of water. I then become so full that I have to lie down, and think. Either way, the memory of a good kenkey and fish meal lingers for days, weeks, sometimes years. A good book should do that too. And that is what I am aiming for.


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