"Baggage"by Cornelia MacErlean ISBN978-1-742842-10-6

Some excerpts... you decide...

Mauri lifted himself up across the dune to be kneeling, facing Sean. The black bristles, new growth on Mauri's chin, were now less than an elbow-length away from Sean's face. He could see the rider's calloused hand tugging........Mauri's other hand moved to explore Sean, the mischievous grin on Mauri's face not shifting.





In one movement, Moira sat amongst us, her bra swinging under one armpit, her shirt hanging around her neck.
'What an artist, my surgeon! Sean pleased too...only took one day.'
Ritchie sat staring, my kick under the table missing. Moira sat posing, waiting for confirmation from Ritchie. And the time it took seemed endless.
But it was Sean who broke the silence, his hand moving around Moira's shoulder, covering her red-raw scalpel-tracked skin with her clothes. 'And we would not want to lose her now', he smiled.



...your partner, Mauri, does not see you as he saw you before his addiction to pornographic images. His dependence is on unrealistisc caricatures of women and behaviours as presented by hard core pornography.


Interesting? I think so. Some readers e-mailed me to say that they forgot to get off at their train stop because they were so involved in the book. Another said that it stopped her doing her house work...great recommendation I think...she couldn't put it down! Sooo....... 

My Mother Myself

This is a poem I wrote years ago but I added it to my memoir KIN DEEP and the Inability to Mourn published by www.bookpal in July 2012

Turning tides of fate
Loosely timed intervals
Of cause and effect determine
The penalty or the reward
From the sea of indulgence
Illicit love and lust
Excitement and exhilaration
Come doubt, guilt and recrimination
Disloyalty and desperation
The tidal gift, the innocent Leo child
Tabula Rasa
Secret words behind cupped hands
Whispers with lowered eyes
Identify the delivery as one of difference
Washed ashore on the prickly reef
Of worlds at war
Destruction, hopelessness
Discrimination, deceit
Rejection, poverty
Hunger, neglect
A thin line between love and hate.    Cornelia (Contag) Mac Erlean 2000copyright

Spring on...

A letter to Ruby! I missed you yesterday while I was paddling on the river. My first experience of this for three years. I can't believe it myself. BUT when I fell overboard I did believe it. My hat went floating away leaving me with an upturned boat and wondering what on earth happened. Of course the secret at my age is the balance factor...you would have no trouble at all...but like on a bucking horse I immediately righted the boat and got back on. I even caught up with my hat. So two hours later when I tried to raise my garage door I realised that I had had the electronic switch in my pocket when I ended up submerged But a small sacrifice to make! I won't do it again tomorrow. So when you have holidays again perhaps you can have a go with me? YES? I warn you ...I'll be an expert by then...no more paddling around the 25 hectare island but I'll be making my way to Burswood by then...sooo fit!

The Stella Prize 2013

So who was Stella Maria Sarah Miles Franklin? Simple! She was one of the greatest women writers of Australia. And now, someone in Melbourne has decided to name a competition after her...a writing competition for women only! Fantastic and at last women have been asked to submit books recently published (this year 2012). The results will become known in March 2013.
And...I have just re-read my memoir, KIN DEEP and the Inability to Mourn, and also my novel, Baggage, both of which I have entered in the competition. I stayed objective, not an easy thing to do, reading from a point of view that may have been in the minds of the critics. But I came away very thankful that I have spent the time to write both and most importantly have taken the time to send in my entries. I am assuming that both books have been received. Now all I have to do is wait...is that all? Yes, that is the hardest part of the whole deal. But I am confident! Both read really well and never stop holding the reader's interest. So keep your fingers crossed with me.

Spring is here!

 And I have broken the spell! My personal spell of giving in to my body. I will not listen to my body anymore but will do what I know is good for me. Structure the day and stick to it. for example: prepare and plan the evening meal first thing after breakfast. Then walk for 45-60 minutes around the magnificent Ascot Waters...this you can appreciate by enjoying the photos on my blog. My urge to not live here any more is completely obliterated. I had forgotten how beautiful my surroundings are...I could never live anywhere else. Three kyaks with crew my age came paddling by on the river...the smooth waters of the river were silently broken into sharing the peace of the bird nesting areas.

Guilt, guilt! Why hadn't I taken our boats out onto the river on this magnificent morning? Oh but it takes effort! So, a few minutes of effort and hours of reward to follow. My body needs it!
 Give up the grimace of winter! Allow the light and warmth of the changing season to enter your heart and influence your mood for the better...for the day.
Families on their outing teaching their young how to search for food. How could nature not be so beautiful and welcoming?

 Tomorrow I'll be paddling around the island as I used to do. What about the sharks seen at the bridge? That was years ago...now is today... with weather like this...how could I not paddle my way into summer?

More touring!

Yes starting with the worst...way back in the sixties but one never knows with all that rumbling going on.
There is a placard showing where the cot stood with the baby in it. What luck!
 It is worth stopping just to spend a few minutes to try and understand the psychology of this display. It spans many years creating quite a deal of history.


 Of course the sight of the Golden Mile at Kalgoorlie was breath-taking. Yet the drive into Kalgoorlie with the Paddy Hannan statue to look forward to left me disappointed. Kalgoorlie is now such a large expanse of city development that I think it has lost its uniqueness...the images of an old mining town overrun with men of the earth and females who ran their businesses for whatever reason are now sorted and filed away never to be seen again. But wait...there is more history on the way.

Eastern Goldfields

Some self prtraits you might suggest after a few days in the sun? No, wrong again though some similarities do exist...the hanging organs? Perhaps. But no, these are the images of natives created  and placed on a huge salt lake at Menzies. A fascinating experience to spend hours wandering the, in some parts, squashy salt surface...not too soft...yet moist enough to leave imprints of feet passing by. A great opportunity for budding artists too of all ages to leave their marks and designs.
A lot of money and time has been spent in making Menzies and the Goldfields in general an attractive tourist destination. Not all roads have been bitumised but some have... much to the disappointment of some locals. There is nothing like the red dust experience in this magnificent countryside. Try it sometime!

More from Above!

 Yes my impressions of nature taken through a not so clean window of a Qantas jet  whilst flying across WA to Sydney, Melbourne or Brisbane. I can't recall which exactly but all views depict the salt lakes of WA. of course with a little help from Picassa...just a few dabs of colour here and there.
 This is one of those psychological smudges...you can see what you can see. Crocodile? In a rage?
Amazing what one can do to amuse oneself on a longish flight.