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OUTBACK WRITERS Newsletter of the Outback Writers’ Centre Inc
Established 1996 Y2606722 Encompassing the Local Government Areas of Bogan, Bourke, Brewarrina, Cobar, Coonamble, Dubbo, Gilgandra,
Narromine, Walgett, Warren, Warrumbungle
ISSN 1445-‐0208 Welcome to the first quarter edition of Outback Writers for 2015 The Outback Writers’ is now being distributed electronically. Please send your email details to [email protected] If you have any feedback or suggestions for workshops or magazine content, please contact an Office Bearer.
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.
Saturday Meetings On the first Saturday of each month members give readings of their poetry and prose, discuss their work, share their interests in writing and receive 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 Ken Windsor 5806 0212 [email protected] Vice President Trevor Walder Secretary/Publicity Val Clark [email protected] Treasurer Lee Cooper 6884 3498 [email protected] Newsletter Karen Russell 0418 979 498 [email protected] Carinda Regional Contact Margaret Johnstone 6823 2362 [email protected] Macquarie Regional Library John Bayliss 6801 4501 [email protected]
February, March, April 2015 _________________________________
President’s report,
Page 2
Writing themes ,Meeting Dates & Competitions
Page 2 & 3
Members’ writings
Page 4
Competitions
Writer’s Inspiration
Page 14
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PRESIDENT’S REPORT
Ken Windsor
A Happy New Year to all our members and readers. 2015 looks like being another busy year for OWC, with workshops and West
Words in the planning stages. There is also a sub-‐committee working on a presentation for prospective sponsors.
Attendance at our Saturday readings improved towards the end of last year, so we can look forward to some lively discussions this year. We are currently looking at plans to resume the monthly critique meetings which could be a great benefit to members working on pieces for publication.
The results of the Rolf Boldrewood Literary Awards were announced by Macquarie Regional Library Director, John Bayliss at our December meeting. The list is elsewhere in this edition. Our set topics for the next three months are also being published, so there is no excuse not to write.
Come along to our meetings on the first Saturday of each month with your contribution for help, entertainment or both.
WRITING COMPETITIONS AND CLOSING DATES Note some require entry forms. When requesting forms send a business sized stamped self-‐addressed envelope. 28 Feb 2015 Free Expressions. Poetry and Prose. Entry Forms. FreeXpression. PO Box 4 West Hoxton NSW 2171. End March 2015 Gulgong Henry Lawson Soc. Lit. Awards for verse, short story & performance poetry. Forms from PO Box 235 Gulgong NSW 2852. End March 2015 Grenfell Henry Lawson Festival, for verse & prose. Forms from PO Box 77 Grenfell NSW 2810. Mid April 2015 Banjo Peterson Lit. Awards for verse & short story. Forms from PO Box 194 Orange NSW 2800. 31 May 2015 Eastwood Hills FAW Literary Competition. Prose and Poetry, PO Box 4663, North Rockis. Phone Marilyn Humbert, 9456 1307. AND THE WINNER OF THE ROLF BOLDREWOOD LITERARY AWARDS FOR 2014 IS … PROSE First prize Wellington Valley by Bob Wright Highly commended Crocodyllus by Ken Windsor Dust Etching by Roxeena Bidgood End of a Dream by Jim Brigginshaw POETRY First prize A Call to Arms by Tom McIlveen Highly commended Eugene by Tony McIlveen Walers by Tony Hammill
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NEWS – Val Clark Secretary Hello Fellow Writers! 2015 is shaping up to be another great year for writers in the West and North West. Our monthly meetings start on February 7th, 10am-‐1pm in the meeting room at the Dubbo Library. Subject to funding and sponsorship here are some of the things on the OWC, WestWords (September 11-‐13) radar thus far.
• Publishers, Anna Valdinga (Harper Collins), Alison Green (Pantera Press) and David Reiter (IP Press) will be available to talk to writers and/or take pitches.
• We are inviting Aboriginal writer, and David Uniopon Award winner, Marie Munkara, to tour some of the remote regions encouraging Aboriginal story tellers to tell and record their stories. Following a mentorship process and in partnership with IAD Press finished stories will be published as Chap books.
• Travel writer, Sue White, will run a day workshop on travel writing and provide travel writing super sessions.
• (Sponsored by WPCC) Mike Ladd, poet and producer of ABC National Poetica will be guest poet
at Off The Western Page, WestWords Launch spoken word event and run a poetry workshop.
If you are interested in being part of the planning group for WestWords 2015 you are invited to meet at the Dubbo Library from 1pm after our monthly meeting on the 7th. (You don’t have to come to both.) The only prerequisite is that you are a financial member of the OWC. You can fill in the appropriate forms and pay your $25 membership on the day or on line. Go to www.outbackwriters.weebly.com and follow the membership links. Don’t forget, if you are a facebooker, to join us on facebook.
Outback Writers’ Centre
Meeting Dates Macquarie Regional Library
Conference Room Cnr Macquarie & Talbragar Streets Dubbo
10 am – 1 pm 7 February 7 March 4 April
Contributions from members are welcome. They must be typed and posted to Outback Writers Centre Inc
PO Box 2994 Dubbo. NSW 2830 Or emailed to:
[email protected] The views expressed in Outback Writers are those of the individual and do not necessarily reflect the views of the
Outback Writers Centre.
February 2015 Summer/Romance March 2015 Pioneers/Bushrangers April 2015 Ancient History/Moons May 2015 TBA June 2015 TBA
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 2014 + January 2015
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Outback Writers
Articles – Poetry – Prose – History – Biography – Autobiography – Fact – Fiction – Fantasy Musings – Diaries – Essays – Lyrics – Letters – Reviews – Scripts – Reports – Thoughts
Sun De-‐Light Hair By Frances Peters-‐Little She was never convinced when she heard them say, To love others you must first love yourself that way, Her milk-‐chocolate skin and SUN DE-‐LIGHT HAIR,
Passing through colour bars everywhere, Never thought of herself, giving it all away, Never complaining, ever maintaining, mother earth always,
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She was not impressed and post Louise Hay, That the world was still racist, and she was not okay, And personal growth was a white luxury she could not afford, So she became any-‐body’s sister on every council and board, Paying back all that she’d thought was taken away, Never complaining, ever maintaining, mother earth always, Her children somewhat jealous, not generous like she was, Sometimes denied mum the right to fight for the cause, In prams, in rallies, in streets and brawls, Conference hopping, pub politics and lecture halls, Doing it for her people, in the most righteous way, Never complaining, ever maintaining, mother earth always, She was severely in love once to her second child’s father, Who viciously beat her and left her for one who would rather Be there for him and stand by her man, than
To try and change a world that can’t understand, That he’d only hit her because he was oppressed too, Never complaining. The best friend a girl could ask for and more, She’ll feed your kids, walk your dog, mop your floors, Listen to your telephone conversations about how life’s so unfair, And without hesitation tell you that she’ll always be there, But you knew it was true and at the end of the day, That she really did understand, mother earth, always, She never talked much about her past or where she came from, I think her father was the bloke who ran the home, But I know she hated Priests, Abbott and the Queen, And she longed for a mother who she’d never seen, But her imagination was strong and wrote her every other day, Never complaining, ever maintaining I love you mother earth. Always.
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A CALL TO ARMS by Tom McIlveen Poetry Winner of the Rolf Boldrewood Literary Awards
I had seen the ‘Cooee Caller’ in our local weekly paper, as he beckoned me to join him overseas.
He was seemingly involved in some extraordinary caper, that would bring the German Army to its knees.
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He was featured in Gallipoli, awaiting further orders from his Dardanelles Peninsula Command… and was told to cross the ranges, to the western Turkish borders, and evacuate their God-‐forsaken land. Then I heard a Cooee call one day, from up above the kitchen of Gilgandra’s newly renovated pub. It had been a rousing call to arms, from William Thomas Hitchen, who was captain of our local Rifle Club. There was William’s brother Richard, and a bunch of rowdy yokels, who had come to hear his stirring Cooee call. In amongst the out of towners, with at least a hundred locals, we were packed in to the rafters, wall to wall. We had rallied in the barroom, underneath the pub veranda, just to hear old ‘Cooee’ make one last appeal. He was calling on the lingerers, who’d come to take a gander and to share a drink and complimentary meal. We had marched from old Gilgandra in the warmth of mid October, with the smell of apple blossom in the air. And although the crowd had laughed and cheered, the mood was somewhat sober…
as they sang a hymn and blessed us with a prayer. To the beat of pounding kettledrums, we’d marched in full formation, through the dusty streets along the Castlereagh. We were off to fight the Turk and Hun, with Cooee’s invitation, and avenge the boys who’d died at Suvla Bay. There were twenty-‐six of us that day, en route to join the fighting, on the Western Front of Luxembourg and France. We were keen as English Mustard, and were bantering and skiting… ‘How we’d flog the Hun – if given half a chance.’ We had travelled south through Mogriguy, to Dubbo and Wongarbon, where the ashes of an early summer blaze, had besmeared the eucalyptus, with a coat of inky carbon, which had lingered in the smoke and murky haze. By the time we’d got to Sydney, we had formed our own battalion from the progeny of every land on earth. There were Scottish, Irish, English and a Yugoslav Italian, who were all Australian heritage, by birth. We were comrades, one and all, who’d shared a patriotic vision – to redeem the persecuted from the Hun.
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We were proud to serve the King and join the British coalition, to defend their land with bayonet and gun. From the twenty-‐six who’d started out, our numbers had inflated, and had snowballed by a multiple of ten. By the time we got to Martin Place, the crowds had been elated to have sighted ‘Billy’s band of marching men.’ Through an arch of blood-‐red roses, we had marched in proud procession, past survivors of Gallipoli’s campaign. They acknowledged us with haunted eyes, devoid of all expression, as we laid a wreath, to sanctify the slain. On completion of our training, we were loaded up like cattle, on a merchant ship, converted for the war. It was armed with some munitions, but unsuitable for battle, and had never faced an enemy before. After countless miles of ocean, we had reached the North Atlantic, and had scanned the sea for German submarines. and although it was deserted … the Commander had been frantic, that we’d all be bombed, and blown to smithereens. We had disembarked in London for some further weapons training,
and were ferried on a British Naval punt to a port in Dunkirk Harbour, which was overcast and raining, as we trudged through mud to reach the Western Front. They had welcomed us with mustard gas, artillery and mortars, and with every type of detonating bomb. They had pounded us relentlessly, beside the tranquil waters of a river that the French had named La Somme. Through the smoky haze of battle, I could see a soldier crawling in between the trenches parallel to mine. In the chaos and confusion, I could hear his Cooee calling me to join him, in a charge across the line. Then a hundred Cooee calls had hailed from all across the valley … as the Diggers rose as one, to face the wire. With the British right behind us, we had all begun to rally, as the German troops began to open fire. We had broken through their lines that day, and marched in full formation, through the street they’d named ‘La Rue du Grand Marcais.’ We had taken back a piece of France, and glorified our nation, to avenge the boys who’d died at Suvla Bay.
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WELLINGTON VALLEY by Bob Wright Prose winner of the Rolf Boldrewood Literary Awards. 30th March 1827
To His Excellency Lieutenant-‐
General Ralph Darling, Governor and Commander in Chief in and over His Majesty’s Territory of New South Wales and its Dependencies, etc, etc, etc. Sir, I have the honour to acquaint you with the facts of a very curious incident that occurred here in Wellington Valley during my recent visit. The affair could have had very serious consequences, but fortunately I have been able to clear it up to the satisfaction of all concerned. It is more than a year since
Your Excellency was pleased to appoint me to the position of Inspector of Roads and Bridges, and it is only now that I have reached the outer limits of settlement in my general tour of inspection of the colony’s roads. From Bathurst I have come 102 miles west to this remote convict settlement, reaching it on the morning of the 27th. On arrival at Government House I found the Commandant, Lieutenant Percy Simpson, on the point of ordering the soldiers under his command to carry out a general attack on the local aborigines in order to drive them out of the district entirely. Conscious as I am that such action is totally against Your Excellency’s benign policy with regard to the native people, I enquired of him as to the cause of such a drastic intention. He related the following extraordinary circumstances to me.
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Several days previously an aboriginal man named Wiradjura was arrested by the soldiers for attacking one Private John Lynch in the bush with murderous intent. He wounded Lynch with his spear, at which point Lynch called out to his fellow soldiers for help and they swiftly came to his assistance and saved him from any further harm. Lynch was furious and wanted to shoot the man there and then, but his fellow soldiers would not allow him to commit so wanton an act. They insisted the man be arrested and brought before the Commandant for punishment by due process of law. The wounded Lynch kept hold of Wiradjura’s spear as evidence, and the soldiers conveyed the aborigine to the jail, where he was locked in by the settlement constable, the convict Vincent Russell. A report on the incident was then made to the Commandant, who questioned Private Lynch. Lynch said the attack was entirely unprovoked. In the eyes of the Commandant this was a very serious development, coming on top of a recent escalation of tensions between the natives and the settlers. The natives have been provoked to an increasing number of retaliatory attacks by outrages committed upon them by stock-‐keepers, who interfere with their women and subject them to other acts of aggression. Consequently the settlers, who are now fearful for their safety, have been calling on the Commandant to clear the aboriginal tribes right out of the district. An unprovoked attack on a soldier so close the centre of the settlement made it
more difficult for him to resist their demands. It being already late in the afternoon, the Commandant decided to leave Wiradjura locked up overnight and question him in the morning. That evening the constable brought the prisoner a meal and found him to be in a sullen mood and making threats to kill Private Lynch. He left him locked in the jail and retired to his hut, which he shares with the principal overseer, the convict George Brown. The following morning, when the Commandant was ready to question the prisoner, the soldiers went to the jail with the constable to fetch him to Government House. To their utmost astonishment, when the constable unlocked the jail they found inside not the man Wiradjura, but the soldier Private Lynch, run through with Wiradjura’s spear and quite dead. Of Wiradjura there was no sign. This unexpected development was reported immediately to the Commandant, who sent the soldiers out in search of Wiradjura and closely questioned the constable, who swore that he could not understand how the body of Private Lynch came to be in the jail in place of the aborigine. Vincent Russell was adamant that Wiradjura had been in the jail when he locked it up the previous night, that he had gone straight to his hut afterwards, from which had had not stirred all night, and that he had the only key to the jail with him the whole time. He could not account for the strange turn of events. The Commandant then sent for the principal overseer and questioned him,
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and George Brown confirmed that Russell had not left their hut from the time he returned from taking Wiradjura a meal until the following morning. The Commandant surmised that the only possible explanation was that Private Lynch, who still had Wiradjura’s spear, must have somehow stolen the keys to the jail from Russell and opened it in the night with intent to kill Wiradjura in revenge for the attack upon himself. The aborigine must have fought Lynch off and got the better of him in the ensuing struggle, spearing him to death and fleeing into the bush. Upon their return the soldiers reporsted that after an extensivew search they had found no trace of Wiradjura, nor would any of the other aborigines say where he was. At this point the Commandant sent word to the aborigines that if they did not deliver Wiradjura up he would have no choice but to attack them and drive them away. He gave them 24 hours to meet his demand. The killing of one of his soldiers could not be allowed to go unaccounted for and unpunished. The 24 hours having expired with no word from the aborigines, the Commandant mobilized his soldiers in preparation for hostilities, and that is how I found matters on the morning of my arrival. On Your Excellency’s authority I ordered the Commandant to suspend his action pending my own investigation of the case. I was not entirely convinced that his explanation of the facts was the true one. For one thing, it did not explain
how the jail came to be locked again the morning that Private Lynch’s body was discovered inside, and the keys back in possession of the constable. I told Lieutenant Simpson that I wished to question both the constable and the principal overseer myself. He ordered them brought to Government House and I questioned them separately in the presence of the Commandant. They both told me exactly what they had told him. I then told the Commandant that I wished to examine the body of Private Lynch, which had been removed from the jail to his hut, and had not yet been buried. He took me to Lynch’s hut, where I found the unfortunate man’s corpse laid out on his bed, which was soaked in his blood. The spear had been removed from his body, leaving a gaping hole in his chest. His face was contorted in pain. It was a gruesome sight. The Commandant informed me that he had the bloodied spear safely in his possession at Government House. I next asked to see the jail, where Lynch had been killed. The constable was sent for again, and he unlocked it for me. I looked it over carefully, but there was nothing to be seen, nothing to give any clue as to what had taken place so recently within. I was perplexed, and decided at this point that I needed to hear Wiradjura’s side of the story. I declared my intention of visiting the aborigines on my own to attempt to speak with Wiradjura. The Commandant protested against this course most vehemently. He was of the opinion that I would be putting myself
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in danger, and he said he would not be able to guarantee my safety if I did so. I assured him that I would come to no harm. The Commandant gave me directions and I rode into the bush in search of the natives. At first they kept their distance and fled at my approach. But I called out to them that I was a friend and meant them no harm, that I only wished to speak with them. They saw that I was alone and eventually they permitted me to approach them. I explained who I was and assured them that I would permit no attack upon them by the soldiers. I asked to speak with Wiradjura, but they said he was frightened and had gone into hiding and would not come. I could not persuade them to bring him out. As I turned to leave however, a comely young aboriginal woman came forward and identified herself as Wiradjura’s wife, Bangaree, and said she would speak with me. Bangaree then told me that Wiradjura had attacked Private Lynch because the soldier had tried to take her by force when he happened across them in the bush. Wiradjura had only been defending her against an attempted outrage. She fled, and did not see Wiradjura again until the following day. Her husband told her how he had been taken by the soldiers and locked in the jail. She said that Wiradjura did not kill Lynch. She said he told her that after he had eaten the meal the constable had brought him, he had fallen asleep in the jail and woken the next morning in the bush, with no idea of what had happened in the
interval. This was a queer tale indeed, but I had no reason to think that she was not telling the truth. She insisted upon her husband’s innocence. I was now getting suspicious about the peculiar circumstances surrounding Lynch’s killing, and as I rode back to the settlement something was nagging at me, something that didn’t seem right. On arrival I made some examination of the ground which confirmed by suspicions. I also questioned some of the other convicts to see if they could tell my anything about this mysterious affair. They provided me with certain information which made the whole thing clear to me. I asked to question Brown again and had him brought to Government House. In the presence of the Commandant I told him that I knew he had been lying and that he and Russell had murdered Lynch. He denied it and said they had no reason to do so. I then revealed that the convicts had told me that Lynch had treated both Russell and himself with contempt and never lost an opportunity to heap insults upon them, despite their positions of responsibility, and that consequently there was bad blood between the two men and Lynch. The convicts had been willing to tell me this because they despised both the constable and the principal overseer due to their harshness. Brown said the other convicts were slandering him out of jealousy and that I had no proof that Lynch wasn’t killed by Wiradjura. I told him that was impossible because Lynch’s
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bed was soaked in blood, but there was none in the jail. If he had been speared in the jail in a struggle with Wiradjura, then there would have been blood stains in the jail, but when I had examined it earlier in the day there were none. Conversely, if Lynch had been killed in the jail there should have been no blood in his hut, or at least not the quantity that I had observed there. There could only be one explanation. Lynch must have been killed in his hut and the body removed to the jail afterwards. I had confirmed this by carefully examining the ground between dLynch’s hut and the jail, and sure enough I had found evidence of dried blood, the larger quantity being near the hut and a lesser amount closer to the jail. Furthermore Russell was the only one who could have locked Lynch’s body in the jail, and that meant that he must have had a hand in the man’s death. Since Brown had given Russell an alibi, Brown must also be involved. I told Brown this was sufficient evidence to hang them both for murder. At this he went ashen-‐faced and begged for mercy, insisting that he had taken no part in the killing of Lynch. I told Brown his only hope of avoiding the gallows was to tell me the whole truth immediately. He said I was right in all particulars except that he had only assisted Russell after the event, and colluded with him to cover it up. He said Russell had left their hut in the night and returned a little later and asked him to help with something. They had gone to Lynch’s hut where Brown saw that Russell had killed
Lynch with Wiradjura’s spear. Brown and Russell then carried the body to the jail and locked it in. Brown said Wiradjura was quite unconscious at the time, and did not stir at all when they removed him to the bush – a circumstance he could not account for. I now sent for Russell, and Brown repeated his account of events in front of him. With no way out, Russell made a full confession. He said he hated Lynch and was just waiting for a chance to be revenged on him. He seized the opportunity provided by Wiradjura’s arrest to kill Lynch and make it look as though he had been killed in an attempt to murder the prisoner. Knowing Lynch was wounded and vulnerable, Russell had stolen into his hut that night, seized the spear and run him through the chest while he slept. He then solicited Brown’s assistance to remove the body to the jail. Earlier in the evening he had laced Wiradjura’s meal with opium, so the prisoner was totally unconscious when they brought in Lynch’s body and took him out to the bush. Russell’s idea was to blame the killing on the aborigine, who would have no knowledge of events. The constable’s mistake was to lock up the prison afterwards, which he did out of habit and without thinking. With the mystery resolved and Russell now locked in the jail awaiting trial, the Commandant is satisfied that the aborigines had no part in the murder of Private Lynch. He has cancelled the planned attack and re-‐established good relations with the natives, sending them word that they will not be harmed and that Wiradjura
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will not be arrested. I have forbidden Lieutenant Simpson to take any extreme action in the future, whatever pressure he may be under from the settlers, and reminded him of your policy in these matters. I have also warned him severely against allowing any of his soldiers to mistreat the aborigines or their women. Of course it is harder to police such behavior
amongst the settlers and stock-‐keepers on so remote a frontier. Perhaps it would be wiser after all to withdraw the settlement at Wellington Valley entirely. I will send a further report in my next letter. I have the honour to be, Sir, Your most Humble Obedient Servant, Captain William Dumaresq.
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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: 6884 5088. 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
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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 above-‐named 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 – Feb/Mar/April 2015
