It’s only August and a friend texted to say she’d received next year’s programme for the live theatre we go to. “No wonder life is flying by,” she said. I was visiting a cemetery at that moment (more about that later), and so I responded, “Hope it’s not flying by too fast!”

She came back with: “Yeah, it is. Trust me.”

You know what? She is not wrong. Take this last week for example. It’s Tuesday as I write this post, although goodness knows when I will publish it. This time last week I was at my monthly writer’s group meeting. Although it’s not my forte, I tried out a poem and received helpful feedback. Then, nothing ventured, nothing gained, I presented an excerpt from my following manuscript Florence & Lucy. It’s always a challenge to pluck out 300 words from 100,000 and hope the group can workshop it – but they rose to the occasion.

Next day, Wednesday, was the monthly meeting of Society Women Writers NSW. This is a big day, up to Sydney and back on the train. This time I had decided to do the morning workshop in addition to the literary section – member speaker, keynote speaker and networking with other writing buddies. The workshop! How inspiring. Led by Ashley Kalagian-Blunt, the topic was “Strengthen Your Narrative Drive”.

Seeing Louisa out in the world, and working my little fingers to the bone to line up and deliver author’s talks is great fun, but I have been itching to get back to Florence & Lucy. As a direct consequence of that workshop, I spent some time Thursday starting right back on Chapter One; removing some characters and backstory in favour of adding more “breadcrumbs”. I promised myself that from hereon, at least one hour per day will be devoted to the manuscript.

Yeah, right.

But I do have a valid reason for breaking my own promise. Friday was the Author Talk at Kirrawee Library, part of the Sutherland Regional network. I spruiked the event in my previous blog post. Full disclosure, I’d used AI to combine three different PowerPoint presentations into one cohesive 30-40 minute session. The result went off so fabulously that I forgot to get the obligatory photo to feed the Social Media beast. I chased up the wonderfully supportive organiser from the Librarian Reader Services and here is what she had to say:

I was so engrossed in your talk I totally forgot to take a photo … So many who walked past me after your talk said how much they enjoyed it.

Heartwarming, isn’t it? In fact, in the Q&A section, one of the audience members went out of her way to compliment me on it, and the others all agreed. It’s feedback like this that makes all the time and effort worthwhile. A true celebration of bringing Louisa and other women like her out of the shadows and into the limelight.

Then … Saturday – my official Sydney launch. I wrote about it back in June but forgot to do a reminder in the immediate lead up. Held in the upstairs area of the fabulously-named bookshop, Better Read Than Dead in inner-Sydney Newtown, this was a much smaller, more intimate affair than my Wollongong launch. You can see from the photos, courtesy of my cousin Dianne, that I was in full flight about something. It actually looks as if I am praying – to Louisa? The interview went off well, with many thanks to my friend and fellow writer, Carmel Bendon whose specialty is the medieval era. I’ve learned so much from her writing. Here she is patiently waiting for me to finish a point.

Afterwards some of us went off to a super-trendy bar for celebratory bubbles. Another cousin, this one in her eighties, even managed the climb up onto a barstool. More inspiring stuff!

The trip to Sydney provided the opportunity to be the overnight guest of the type of friend you don’t see in months and then just pick straight up again. You know who you are 🙂 Such a treat, and we were well spoilt with dinner, wine, warm bed and big breakfast. Not to mention the stimulating conversation.

This overnighter put us very close to Rookwood Cemetery, so, despite intermittent rain all weekend, Bill and I went on an exploratory trip. This heritage-listed cemetery in Sydney is the largest necropolis in the Southern Hemisphere and is the world’s largest remaining operating cemetery from the Victorian era. It covers a complex demographic of some 18 dedicated religious sections each sub-divided into more than 100 specific areas tailored to particular faiths and community groups. In addition, there are general, non-denominational, and “pauper” sections. The first person to be buried here was in 1867, and since then, the remains of over 1 million people have followed.

Among them, my great-grandmother, Louisa Whitley. She died as bells pealed across Sydney, marking the Armistice, the end of WW1.

The 1918 Anglican section in which she is buried in an unmarked grave is overgrown with a native grass. Much earlier this year, after my request, a work order was processed to clear her spot and erect a marker. Murphy’s Law, we then had fuel shortages and rain, so by the time we could return, so had some vegetation. Luckily, we discovered a pole with the remains of the hand-made identification sign. I was finally able to place the bunch of artificial flowers I’d bought way back in February. A small tribute to the real Louisa, whose story is brought to life in my debut historical novel of the same name.