Tag: crime fiction

Hazards of the Modern Writer-(ex)Postman. Episode 18

Here in Oz we’re in the back end of winter. Cold weather is good writing weather. So, I’ve been writing. Yep, I’m hard at it on a new crime novel called Happy Days. ATM, I’m 49,000 words into the manuscript (that’s about 60% completed) and I think- no, I’m sure- No. No. I think I know who-did-it. Always helpful in a murder mystery I suppose (especially if you’re the author).

So, what’s Happy Days about, Chris? I hear you ask.

Well . . .

Forty-something, Martha has left her boorish husband, Simon, to begin a new life with her soul mate, Gordon. Unfortunately, Gordon is killed in a car accident. Grief-stricken and adrift, Martha uproots herself from the city and moves to the picturesque town of Melton in the NSW central west where she plans to open a book shop.

Melton was a boom town during the 19th century gold rush and a famous nugget, Happy Days was found close to town. That nugget, preserved at the museum in Sydney was stolen almost 20 years ago when on display at a gold festival in Melton. Martha rents the shop that was used as a base by the thieves and this piques her interest to solve the mystery and find out Happy Days fate.

But a firebug strikes in Melton – attempting to burn down Martha’s shop, as well as an out building on a nearby farm. The farmer, Sarah, tells Martha she’s been the victim of ‘bad luck’ – with stock getting out, equipment mysteriously breaking down – and now the fire.

With the police ineffective, crime-fiction loving Martha determines to reveal the firebug and in doing so uncovers a multi-million dollar plot that could cost her life.

That’s all I’m giving away. Okay?

As I said in my previous dispatch, I’m no longer a postman. I’m at that stage in life where I can support myself (at a comfortable level) through my savings and writing income. So, it’s not bread and water – or road kill – for my meals. Mind you, we have a plague of wild deer here in the Illawarra.

Yeah. I said deer (see pic. below)

This picture was taken on my postie run a few years back. There are deer everywhere now. As I said, plague proportion. The upside is a wonderful supply of fresh venison. Not to everyone’s taste I know, but why look a gift horse (deer) in the mouth? Mmmm. Venison in a red wine sauce with truffle oil and chat potatoes. (Pretentious? Moi? Oh, no, no, no!)

Music I’m listening to as I write:

Augie March

Porcupine Tree

Okay. That’s it for now. Hopefully next time I post I’ll have GOOD news to crow about.

Until then, bye, bye, bye . . . .

The Modern Writer-Postman Encounters UCI World Championships

Hello cycling enthusiasts and welcome to beautiful Wollongong, here in NSW Australia.

I’ve laid my quill on my desk and put the lid on the ink for a moment to embrace this huge cycling event that has arrived on my doorstep.

It was the Mens Final today and what a race! Below you’ll see one of my reports for sporting news websites and channels across the world.

Holidays of the Modern Writer-Postman. Episode 1

No news. At all. Nothing. To quote the modern vernacular: crickets . . .

Okay, Mr/Mrs Publisher, I can take a hint. Maybe we both need a break from each other.

I’m going on holidays! My wife and I have headed south – down Australia’s east coast to the region known as The Sapphire Coast. No, no. The waterways and environs aren’t littered with precious gemstones, rather the sea and the sky are sapphire-like in colour.

Hazards of the Modern Writer-Postman. Episode 13

It’s happened. The first time, ever, for me in my fiction writing career.

A form of WRITER’S BLOCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don’t if it was, you know, WB, but the other night, as I was on the cusp of sleep I pondered my novel and where I’d be going with it next. There was nothing. Just this dark wall-like thing in my mind (where I can usually play out the action like a movie) preventing me ‘seeing’ anything. Nothing. But the next day I had an answer (a key to The Block) and onwards I travel. Phew. From a writing perspective that feeling is awful. I felt lost. Hopeless. Plotless. I’m glad it was only overnight.

But now it is onwards and upwards with the manuscript – plus, I sat down and wrote myself a detailed plot line from where I’m at (close to the end) all the way to The End.

Now onto more more important matters:

Can you find the letterbox?

Okay. It wasn’t that hard. But this is still an obstacle course for your friendly Writer-Postman.

Manuscript word count: 81,408.

Getting close to the end now and I can’t wait to find out who the killer is. I have my suspicions, but you can never tell with a crime novel there’s always a final twist.

Hazards of the Modern Writer-Postman. Episode 12

The weather continues to be the enemy of all posties here in Eastern Australia.

Rain, rain, and more rain. And then more rain, rain, rain.

But how does this ‘rain’ of which you write manifest itself? I hear you ask. (see below)

The Disappearing Lake

Need I say more? It’s a lot for a modern writer/postman to deal with, but deal with it I did. I mean, the sooner the mail is delivered, the sooner I can get home behind the keyboard. Of course I take care of family matters, domestic chores, and then it’s off to the world of . . . well, wherever my imagination takes me.

MANUSCRIPT UPDATE: Corruption is currently under consideration at a publisher. The Squeezed, my latest in-progress manuscript, progresses well. 75,000 words down. Editing on the run has got me caught up to where I’m at. This means I’ve added in changes, made adjustments, deleted unnecessary sections and generally tidied the draft. Now it’s on to uncharted waters. But never fear, there is a plot line for me to follow. Now it’s onward to:

T H E E N D

Hazards of the Modern Writer-Postman. Episode 10

I’m doing something I promised myself I wouldn’t do. No. It’s nothing illegal or something that could be deemed ‘naughty’. I’m editing my manuscript before I’ve completed the first draft.

Finish the damn thing. Completely. Then tinker and cut and polish, the little voice inside my head yodels. But no. I’m editing.

Why now? you ask. Now, when you’re so close to finishing the manuscript. The short answer is: I have to.

This pollution monstrosity on my postie run is a pretty fair representation of what’s going on in my writer’s head at the moment.

But I shall prevail!

Onwards and upwards to ‘The End’

Hazards of the Modern Writer-Postman. Episode 9.

When mail thieves strike, your friendly writer-postman is on the job detailing their dastardly work!

Stolen mail – dumped unceremoniously!

What can I say? To some, the sanctity of the written word, of the Royal (okay, not anymore) mail means nothing. Zero. Zip. Zilch. And so these ne’er-do-wells swoop in the dead of night while good folk slumber – and steal their bills and junk mail!

Calamity!

But fear not, we are on the hunt and shall bring these perpetrators to book.

The Hazards of the Modern Writer-Postman. Episode 4.

I understand maintaining your garden can be time-consuming and not exactly high on one’s priority list of household chores. But lorks-a-lordy, spare a thought for your friendly neighbourhood Writer-Postman.

Somewhere in that green Cousin It look-a-like vegetative monstrosity is a letterbox!

Pass the machete please!

Can you see the letterbox? Just right of centre, low down. Yeah low down all right! A Writer-Postman runs the risk of poking out an eye – or poking something worse.

So come on people, think of the hardworking postmen and postwomen who bring you messages of joy and hope (and the occasional bill) and get those hedge clippers out. TODAY.