My story

Elephants?

Hmm!  Yes!  Elephants?  Why the elephants?

There’s a story there.  The writer (the very good writer), Stephen King, in his book, ‘On Writing’, tells us how he met the young woman who became his wife.  They were both part of a group of wannabe poets who, once a week, would meet at their lecturer’s house to share the work that they had done . . . that is, read out their poems.

It was a time when, what can almost be described as the poetic equivalent of throwing paint at a canvas and calling it art, some of the writers simply wrote . . . ahm . . . nonsense.  If challenged they’d – according to Stephen – just give you a look of contempt; “Feel the heaviness, man.” (King, p 63.)

However, when Tabitha (the said young woman) read her poem, A Gradual Canticle for Augustine . . . (which I’m not going to write out now, but here’s the first line, ‘The thinnest bear is awakened in the winter by the sleep-laughter of locusts’) . . . the room stopped. 

Total silence! 

Stephen wrote that ‘no one knew how to react’ and that he found the ‘combination of crafty diction and delirious imagery exciting and illuminating.’

He went on to write, ‘There was also a work ethic in the poem that I liked, something that suggested writing poems (or stories, or essays) had as much in common with sweeping the floor as with mythy moments of revelation.’ (King, p 64-5).

And THAT, Dear Reader, is one of the reasons why writing can be revered . . . it’s work!  It’s honest work.  It’s a noble job.  Honest, creative effort . . . that special combination of both art (read: imagination) and endeavour – the ‘work ethic’.

There’s a joy when finally you can lean back in the chair and know that you’ve hit the mark.  The words, all formed up in neat rows, will surely please you.

What else does this fella do?

I’ve been teaching professional people how to make first-rate presentations for over 30 years.  Still do!  It’s enormously satisfying, and the people I’ve met and worked with over time have been almost universally both interesting and likeable.  To get to those people across Australia I’ve travelled by aeroplane (747 and a little Cessna 172), Mercedes-Benz saloon car and a rusty four-wheel drive LandCruiser, Manly and Rottnest Ferries, trains too numerous to mention and, best of all, in my own trusty (but not rusty) Beemer . . . 668,000 kilometres on the clock and still bopping along nicely.

Always travelling!

And the rooms I’ve worked in?  Everything from 5-star boardrooms with views across the Swan River or Sydney Harbour to – once – a tin shed in country Victoria in the back yard of a mining company’s managing director starting at 06.00 am . . . in winter.  Yes, we froze – there was no heating.

Within the pleasures afforded me by all those years of training, and speaking, and writing (I’m a speech-writer, too) has been the request here and there for something written . . . a company report edited and proof-read, a web-site’s copy to be (no other word for it) fixed, some marketing flyers and more.  

And, on my own behalf, I’ve written two books, an essay or two and a full-length screenplay.

According (again) to King, ‘If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot.  There’s no way around these two things that I’m aware of, no shortcut.’  (King, p 164.

Tick and tick!

But, there’s more!

It’s useful to have ‘done stuff’ which adds to one’s overall experience.  Happily, I have.  I was raised on the land (the BEST start for any young’un), played drums professionally (jazz), flew jet-fighters with the RAAF, driven rally-cars, been (still am) a professional actor, broadcaster with the ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation), professional speaker and (now) professional writer (after writing for zip for 40 years).  Best of all, a father to two (now) adult children – a boy and a girl. 

I run every day, eat to live and read . . . read, read, read.  Life would be meaningless without family, friends and books . . . and a daily newspaper – not the digital version.  No, no . . . the kind that can be folded over and propped against the table’s fruit bowl to be read while breakfasting on toast and marmalade.  

The solitary, but not lonely, business of being at my desk to simply write – as constantly as possible (no more travelling) – fills me with anticipatory pleasure.

Your turn

Remember that the line on the HOME page, ‘You are really busy and you need some writing done’; whatever it is that you need written, call me.

There are some contact details on the CONTACT page, but, for convenience, here’s the phone number: +61 3 5754 1122.

And that’ll do, I think.  You now have a pretty good idea of who you’d be dealing with.

. . . Sorry!  What’s that?  

The what?  Oh, the elephants?  Oh, of course . . . yes . . .  the elephants.

Let’s go back to Tabitha (or Tabby as Stephen calls her):  Stephen writes (of Tabby talking about St Augustine), ‘And he sometimes likened himself to a bear.’  Tabby has a way of tilting her chin down when she smiles – it makes her look both wise and severely cute.  She did that then, I remember, and said, ‘Besides, I like bears.’ (King, p 66)

I was looking over endless pages of photographs that I could use as I set up this website.  Took me hours.  I saw the picture above, and saw fit to include it, acting in pure response to Tabby’s confession (which I paraphrase), ‘Besides, I like elephants.’

And, my neighbour, just after I moved into the house where I live (in mountain country, no less), suddenly appeared with his roaring lawn-mower just after I had started mowing my lawn.

‘But, Trevor,’ I exclaimed, ‘why are you helping?’

‘Why not!’ he said. 

Elephants?  Why not, indeed! 

If you could use a (writing) hand, just call.  Anytime at all . . . just call.

Stephen King’s book

‘On Writing’ is worth a read – even if you’re not a writer.  It’s brilliant.  Here are the details: Publisher, Hodder and Stoughton, London, 2001.  ISBN 978-0-340-82046-9.)