for another year which I no doubt believe he will because honestly he’s to mean to die.
Word count: 399
Travel Used To Be Glamorous
Many moons ago my father worked for Queensland Railways. Yearly he'd been given a free family pass to travel by train anywhere in Queensland. Each year he'd tell us where we'd be travelling, places like The Great Barrier Reef in northern Queensland.
My mind burst with enthusiasm to picture myself viewing The Great Barrier Reef. All the while each year became another promise. We never did travel to The Great Barrier Reef nor any other place. We remained home to spend my vacations dreaming about one day journeying to those far away places. His excuse 'we can't afford holidays this year. Perhaps next year.' Next year same excuse.
Travel was expensive and glamorous. Stories related from the more fortunate friends who travelled with their parents told their stories of adventure seeing different things in their travels. Myself, all I could do was dream and perhaps one day visit these glamorous places my friends spoke about if and when I could afford to.
Also, I lived in a bubble. My life with my family. Attend school, return home, commit to chores, bathe, go to bed and in the morning repeat the same as the day before. The only glamorous travel I'd done was in my head. Studying Social Studies enlightened my knowledge of far away places, too far from my home to ever realise a dream to visit. They grew in my mind so much I would one day visit these glamorous places.
After I completed school and commenced work my boss often told me to travel the world. He'd travelled the seas joining the merchant navy. His story stirred enthusiasm in me to try and travel to visit the places he mentioned. Alas, after completing my apprenticeship I travelled to western Queensland to work on a property.
Dyvenor Downs became my home. Wide open spaces, gum trees almost reaching the sky, a place I thought in all my dreams became a dream of visiting and working on a property. Clear open space for miles, different places, like Dyvenor Lakes. A salt water lake. In my studies early explorers knew of a inland sea. Perhaps they were looking for Dyvenor Lake which contained sufficient water to fill more than a thousand swimming pools.
My first view of a black swan almost took my breath away. Aborigines worked on this property and on a Sunday afternoon I went with an aboriginal friend to steal swan eggs from their nests. We gathered a dozen eggs from different nests. Before we boiled them, we placed them into a bucket of water to find how many were rotten. If they rose to the top, they were rotten. Ones on the bottom were eatable. Boiled and eaten almost immediately. The taste delicious and rich, twice the size of an ordinary chook egg.
People should pay to see this wonderland, I often told the others who worked with me. A team of fifty workers ranging from Manager, Overseer, Stockmen, Ringers and Station Hands. A variety of workers to operate one million acres of lush green Mitchell grasses and mulga scrub. A paradise in south-western Queensland unknown to the many visitors who didn't know the place existed.
I wanted to share with the world my discovery of outback Queensland with kangaroos, wild pigs, flocks of galahs in flight. Silence of bush surroundings. If one could bottle this stress free environment and sell across the globe, one would make a fortune.
Fancy living in a stress free environment, no traffic, no worries only rising in the morning to a glorious sunrise to go to bed at night with a wondrous sunset. Perfect in everyway. Out in the middle of nowhere, no telephones, communication of any type only the telephone exchange from the local post office forty kilometres west of the property. I wanted to shout my findings to the world.
I needed to wait another forty years before this portion of south-western Queensland to be discovered as glamorous, once the grey brigade rolled out across Australia to seek their own searches of places to visit. Now this portion of Australia has been discovered I'm pleased because although travel used to be glamorous, this portion of Australia needs all the visitors they can receive to boost tourism for their economy to keep small country towns in the west survive.
Word count: 727
We've All Got To Start Somewhere
All through my life, as far back as I can remember, mention of the word 'stupid' became my totem. Honestly, I never thought I was 'stupid' only a little slow to analyse what the other person said. Might had something to do with my brainwaves. Over time this word 'stupid' encased my mind to such a degree I actually thought I was 'stupid' and accepted this fact.
Frightened to do anything worthy I slipped to the background thinking how 'stupid' I was. One story comes to mind. In a manual arts class of drawing, our teacher asked us to draw an oblique view. For those who are unfamiliar with oblique, it is a drawing using 45 degree angles instead of horizontal view. After completing this task, mine was the only drawing drawn oblique view. When the teacher noticed what I'd done, his words cut through me like a hot knife through butter, 'how did you know what to do, you're stupid, if you had another brain it'd be lonely.' Instead of praising my efforts, he criticised them.
Over the many years ahead I carried this 'stupid' tag wherever I went and after sometime carried it with pride. My father became my greatest critic often saying, 'how would you know. You're stupid!' I didn't know any better and often wanted to speak back and tell him I wasn't 'stupid' but in those times a child never spoke to their parents in the way they wanted to.
I'll never forget when an honour was bestowed upon me. I was an apprentice fitter and turner. I'd made an implement and thus earned the title 'Apprentice of the week'. Unfortunately when I told my father, his reply, 'how could they give you a title like that, you're stupid. Probably got it out of a Kellogg Cornflake packet.'
Since four years of age I wanted to be a policeman, moreso a detective. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think one day my dream would come true. I'll never forget the day I told my father I wanted to join the police, 'what'd you want to join them for. You swear to arrest your own mother or father,' his only comment.
We've all got to start somewhere, and start of a my new life began as a police officer. On the day of my swearing-in parade my parents were present and I would've loved to be able to read my father's thoughts when I held my hand on the bible swearing to arrest my own mother and father. Of course these words weren't in the oath I took, but in my father's mind they were.
After a couple of years performing general duties my life-time wish came true. I became a Detective in the Criminal Investigation Branch. I'll never forget the first day I arrived at Selby House in Petrie Terrace to commence my duty as a detective. Among other first day detectives I became one of many fresh new faces and ready to go. We've got to start somewhere and this was my time to unshackle the 'stupid' tag and go for it.
Lucky I was placed with an 'ole timer' with much more experience than I could've imagined. We fitted together like two peas in a pod and without his teachings in my early days I doubt if I could've risen to the great heights I did. Along this journey I was blessed working with senior detectives whose teachings drove me to venture into areas I never thought possible.
After twenty years as a police officer I retired medically unfit because I had a pacemaker implanted. One of my greatest joys of being a police officer, to assist less unfortunate people who needed help. In latter years in the force I became an author. This book help spread-the-word for parents of teenage children to improve their communication between both parties.
My last project as a police officer to establish 'Crimestoppers', a programme to work in partnership with the community to report crime. After twenty years service and given the opportunity to establish this important crime prevention programme I felt the 'stupid' tag had been finally lifted from my shoulders.
Writing became my challenge and still continues to this day. I love to write and more particularly publish my writing for the world to read. Looking back on my life, has been filled with dreams. Initially I dreamt about being a real-life detective which I achieved. I didn't dream of being a published author, this came l
ater in life. Now I want my writing to reach all corners of the globe, be read by as many readers as possible and love what I do.
We've got to start somewhere and thankfully I did start because had I not when I did I wouldn't experienced life as I have done.
Word count: 815
What Did We Do Without Google
Google is a godsend for authors such as me. When I’m writing a novel and ‘get stuck’ in history, as with my latest novel of events set in 1891, I click onto Google and presto immediate information without leaving the comforts of my computer.
Let me share with you how I came to first came across Google? 4th September, 1998 Google was founded by Larry Page and Sergey Brin in Menlo Park, California, America. At the time I’d written and published about four books. I’d ask questions on where to find information when the Manager of Oral Health where I worked at the time told me about Google, ‘Pat, it’s great, you can find anything you want.’
From that moment onward I used Google for almost everything. Initially in 1998 I became shocked when I typed in my own name to find twenty-five thousand results, not all were my material, but comparing a similar name overwhelmed my ego and information I didn’t know existed.
Today when