OUTBACK WRITERS MEMBERSHIP

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1 OUTBACK WRITERS Newsletter of the Outback Writers Centre Inc Established 1996 Y Encompassing the Local Government Areas of Bogan, Bourke, Brewarrina, Cobar, Coonamble, Dubbo, Gilgandra, Narromine, Walgett, Warren, Warrumbungle ISSN Welcome to the fourth quarter edition of Outback Writers for 2014 The Outback Writers is now being distributed electronically. Please send your details to If you have any feedback or suggestions for workshops or magazine content, please contact an Office Bearer. November, December 2014 & January 2015 President s report, Page 2 MEMBERSHIP Under the new guidelines for incorporated organizations, membership lapses after three months from the membership renewal date. For OWC, the new financial year is in line with the Australian fiscal year Membership renewals were due in July. This means if you haven t renewed yet you are no longer a financial member. Writing themes,meeting Dates & Competitions Page 2 Members writings Page 3 Competitions Saturday Meetings On the first Saturday of each month members give readings of their poetry and prose, discuss their Writer s Inspiration work, share their interests in writing and receive Page 6 encouragement. Meetings held from 10 am to 1 pm. Thursday Critique Group Held on the second Thursday evening of each month. Writers review longer pieces of writing with a more detailed critique. Critique Group now in recess until further notice. Venue: Macquarie Regional Library, Dubbo All Welcome. Office Bearers & Contact Details President Vice President Secretary/Publicity Treasurer Newsletter Ken Windsor Peter Dargin Val Clark Lee Cooper Karen Russell Carinda Regional Contact Margaret Johnstone Macquarie Regional Library John Bayliss windsorak1@optusnet.com.au dap@hwy.com.au outbackwriters@gmail.com leilacooper@bigpond.com karenelizabethrussell@gmail.com margaret16@ipstarmail.com.au john.bayliss@dubbo.nsw.gov.au 1

2 President s Report Ken Windsor The end of another calendar year! December is inexorably bearing down on us. The promise of joyful events, Christmas celebrations, New Year s Eve, birthday parties for those born in December and most importantly, the Outback Writers Centre s Annual general meeting. We have completed another successful year. The monthly Saturday morning meetings have been attended by increasing numbers of members enjoying the diverse presentations. It is interesting to hear so many different interpretations of the set topic. There have been several attempts to emulate Ron s poetry skills. The improvements are pleasing to see, but no- one has laid claim to his crown. The Thursday Critique Group for aspiring authors has also had some interesting meetings during the year and is currently in recess until next year. The Rolf Boldrewood Literary awards were again run by the Macquarie Regional Library with OWC providing some publicity and distribution of applications forms. As with many literary competitions, entries are declining in numbers. If we get a result before publications, we will add a Stop Press. Two major workshops have been conducted this year. West Words was run in May and the Billy Stoneking Marshall script- writing workshop was presented in October. Val is working on West Words for The AGM, to be held on Saturday, December 6 th is your chance to be involved and set the course for the next twelve months. Best wishes to all members and associates for a happy and safe Christmas season and good luck for writing success in WRITING COMPETITIONS AND CLOSING DATES Note some require entry forms. When requesting forms send a business sized stamped self- addressed envelope. 15 Feb 2015 Dunedoo Bush Poetry Festival. Details from (02) End March 2015 Gulgong Henry Lawson Soc. Lit. Awards for verse, short story & performance poetry. Forms from PO Box 235 Gulgong NSW End March 2015 Grenfell Henry Lawson Festival, for verse & prose. Forms from PO Box 77 Grenfell NSW Mid April 2015 Banjo Peterson Lit. Awards for verse & short story. Forms from PO Box 194 Orange NSW Outback Writers Centre Meeting Dates Macquarie Regional Library Conference Room Cnr Macquarie & Talbragar Streets Dubbo 10 am 1 pm 1 November 6 December Contributions from members are welcome. They must be typed and posted to Outback Writers Centre Inc PO Box 2994 Dubbo. NSW 2830 Or ed to: windsorak1@optusnet.com.au The views expressed in Outback Writers are those of the individual and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Outback Writers Centre. November 2014 December 2014 January 2015 February 2015 March 2015 Seeing is Believing/Magic Escape/What is Love? NO MEETING TODAY. IN RECESS UNTIL FEBRUARY To be advised To be advised Write up to 300 words on the topic of the month in any style, from prose to poetry, essay to letter, and bring it along for sharing and constructive feedback at the Saturday meetings. Outback Writers November, December January

3 Outback Writers Articles Poetry Prose History Biography Autobiography Fact Fiction Fantasy Musings Diaries Essays Lyrics Letters Reviews Scripts Reports Thoughts WORDS ON A NOT- TOO- FAR HORIZON Ron Stevens I ve glimpsed degrees of peace when words did not intrude; have heard an adolescent eucalypt extend its limbs by millimetres, reaching for the sun; have watched a leaf- held droplet tremble, fall and slide with others almost silently beside my feet; once breathed in time with my first- born and felt a brief return to aweful innocence when days were clean and words were sweetly soothing through the darkest night. I fear the words of mass destruction used today - - manipulating, taunting words in warlike joust. No hope of peace with words defining Them and Us maliciously with steel religious certitude. Crusade, jihad, surviving Age of Reason, rise and clash their swords, although pretentiously devout. At funerals and wakes the priests all pray and mourners ululate, while bishops pawn their principles for pop performances. The web- sites harbor offerings with poisoned codes. Kashmir evokes no vision of romantic east but temple burnings, mosques ablaze, atomic guards on either side held loosely, snarling at each gate. And closer, riots scar suburban streets, Australian flags are burned and synagogues defaced. Last night I sensed a scratching on my cell- room wall; awoke to find this text in biblical effect: At the ending were the Words; and the Words were dust where roaches vied like gods in rubbled church and mosque. 3

4 HORIZONS Ken Windsor The sun is directly overhead. It must be close to midday. The glare and the strength- sapping heat are relentless. I plod on, one foot in front of the other, like an automaton. My water bottle is almost empty. I take another small sip to moisten my dry lips; I swallow the remainder. The heat sears my nostrils as I breathe and I flare them against the hot air flow. It is better than breathing through my mouth because the hot air rapidly dries my tongue and the inside of my lips stick dryly to my teeth. The scorching nostrils are the least of the two evils. I shield my eyes against the blinding light of the sun. The landscape is featureless. I look all around me, hoping to see something familiar. The horizon is bare. The sun reflects off the undulating dunes. I look back down towards my feet in my own shadow. I see a tiny puff of dust as my right foot kicks a small rock. I am shuffling. My heels are dragging in the grey- coloured sand as I take each step. My hands, hanging at my sides, are starting to swell. I reach the top of a sand dune; I lift my head and look around again. There, on the horizon, less than half a kilometer away, is a small stand of trees, shimmering in a heat- haze. Trees mean water. In my mind I hasten my pace. In reality, my feet do not respond. I continue to shuffle towards the trees. I trip and fall forward; my mouth is full of the dry earth. I breathe it in. I choke and dry- retch. I look up and I cannot see the trees. They were just a mirage on the horizon. I close my eyes and all pain stops FAR HORIZONS Lee Cooper I ve heard about beautiful places far, far away. I dream of living somewhere permanently, not just visiting. I dream about sailing on a big, big ship over a sparkling sea. How wonderful it would be to go there with my family and have a happy life. It would be nice to have the children learn another language, get a good education and ultimately that would lead to a well- paid job. A lovely house, where we could entertain new found friends with similar interests. At present we are battling to make ends meet and our future doesn t look bright. It is difficult to procure good food to keep the children well and the education they receive at the moment is anything but satisfactory. We live in crowded accommodation and there are always disagreements about food, and also our basic necessities for hygiene are less than what is necessary. However, today my husband advised that he has made arrangements for us to take a trip on a boat and leave this place forever. Fortunately, we have a little money and some of our relatives have loaned us the balance to secure a passage. We are excited and looking forward to our new life. We can hardly wait. The children are packing their clothes and saying goodbye to their friends, with assurances that they will stay in contact and describe to them our new home and all that it has to offer. Some of our closer friends are also coming and there is a festive air. I wonder what the weather will be like. Maybe we will see snow, and indeed we ll be able to swim and have fun. I won t sleep tonight as I dream of our new life at a place called Nauru

5 ON THE COOL BLUE SEA Trevor Walder Benghazi Harbour. We are roughly pushed onboard the boat. This is not what we were promised. A filthy crowded vessel, like those on the great river. Not a great white shining one like those shown to me on the TV. My heart is distressed. I have no separate place to sleep. The crew address us. Have patience we will deliver you to Europe. My heart sings at the sound of the word. Europe where everyone has their own apartment. Where everyone has enough to eat. Where no one dies of wasting disease or bowel flux. Europe the great shining paradise on the other side of the sea. xx At sea. All killing has its ritual. The frigate s bridge loud- speaker squawks. Zulu- Charlie to Sunray- three. The young commander keys the transmitter switch in way of reply. He s done it before often enough. Six plus bandits. Location four- four one- seven. Rate two. This is what he s paid for. Course zero- three- zero. Rate five. All guns close- up. The crew have been at modified Action Stations since they left harbor a week ago. The calm blue sea is like a painting by a Renaissance Master. The pale- grey warship leaving a pure white arrow- like wake behind is oddly beautiful. Then the radar reports. Range five thousand. Ten degrees to port. A steadying order from the commander. The frigate reduces her speed. Target port- side. P- gun ready. Mixed tracer and hex. Ten rounds. Fire when astern of bandit one, range two- fifty bearing ninety. The frigate has almost stopped now. The immigrants are waving cloths. They expect to be picked up? Surely not. Europe has too many, far, far too many people to provide for. The computer controlled 40mm gun mount jerks around. Steadies. Then comes a coughing sound. xx On the immigrant boat. A warship has seen us. It has flashed lights. I join my neighbors in dancing and waving. I sense something is wrong. There are no men on the warship. Another bright light flashes. The boat flies to pieces. This is terrible. I am in the sea. There is nothing but blood and cold. I am dragged under the water. I open my mouth to scream. xx Methodically the frigate and patrol plane go about the business of killing. Pull in astern at least 200 metres off. Engage with one of the side- mounted 40mm guns. A short burst. The immigrant craft is shot to pieces. There is no attempt to rescue survivors. A short routine item on the nightly news without any video. Today ships of the European Union Frontier Command intercepted illegal immigrant vessels off the coasts of Greece, Malta, Sardinia and Spain. Next the weather

6 WOO BACK Jim Pascoe WOO BACK WOO BACK floats through my memory as I enter the Museum of the Western Plains Cultural Centre. There before me is this magnificent wagon which someone has carefully kept and restored, and how did they get it into the building? I walk around it admiring the wooden spokes and fellies and the massive iron tyres, though noting the absence of shafts. This brings me back to my opening remarks. As a small boy of eight or nine years I remember my Father and Grandfather backing two draught horses WOO BACK and harnessing them into the shafts of a similar wagon. They then connected four more horses two by two in front. The leading pair, and the pair in the shafts, were controlled with two sets of reins. I further remember a special Saturday morning when I didn t have to saddle up my frisky pony to ride the ten k s to school. Dad let me go with him and Clarrie (his helper) to get a load of sheaf hay on the wagon. This only happened about seventy two years ago, so I remember it very clearly. I stood between my Dad s legs and he let me hold the reins as we trotted down the paddock. Clarrie pitched up the sheaves with a long handled fork and Dad stacked them neatly until we had a big load. Clarrie could toss the sheaves very high and won the sheaf tossing competition at the local show. This happened early in World War Two, and Clarrie went off to the war leaving Dad with too big a job to manage two teams of horses for the cropping. A new Case tractor was purchased which started the demise of our wagon, as the new tractor took its place in the shed. Iron to build a shed was unprocurable if it could be afforded. Sadly the wagon still remains in the same place after all these years, with white ants, weather and rust slowly taking it back to the ground. I am sure many hundreds of wagons have gone the same way. One can be seen in a Cootha paddock opposite the Western Plains Zoo. Those of us who are fortunate enough to see this beautiful wagon at the Museum should walk around it again and think about all the wool and wheat these wagons would have carried in earlier times, being pulled by bullocks as well as horses. Those who have seen George Lambert s painting Across the Black Soil Plains may have some idea of the varying conditions these wagons could encounter Writer s Inspiration 6

7 We acknowledge and thank our sponsors: Australian Art Sales And Book Central The authors of the best poem and piece of prose each receive a bottle of wine, courtesy of Australian Art Sales. Cindy and Peter Neilson of Book Central are offering a 5 % discount on books purchased by Outback Writers Centre members. Book Central is located at 83 Talbragar Street, just up from the post office. Ph: Make sure your OWC membership is current to take advantage of this generous sponsorship. Outback Writers Centre Inc Established 1996 Encompassing the Local Government Areas of Bogan, Bourke, Brewarrina, Cobar, Coonamble, Dubbo, Gilgandra, Narromine, Walgett, Warren, Warrumbungle 7

8 APPLICATION FOR MEMBERSHIP OF ASSOCIATION Outback Writers Association Incorporated (incorporated under the Associations Incorporation Act 2009) 1 July to 30 June - $25 ($10 full- time student or under 18) I, (full name of applicant) of (address) (occupation) hereby apply to become a member of the abovenamed incorporated association. In the event of my admission as a member, I agree to be bound by the constitution of the association for the time being in force. Signature of applicant Date I, (full name) a member of the association nominate the applicant for membership of the association Signature of proposer Date I, (full name) a member of the association, second the nomination of the applicant for membership of the association. Signature of seconder Date Outback Writers Nov/Dec 2014 & Jan