Dragon Launched on Tamar

Yesterday was a Pink-Letter day on the Tamar River in Launceston.
It marked the launch of the Dragons Abreast latest Dragon Boat.
Dragons Abreast is a world wide association whose members are survivors of breast cancer or their survivors.
Hobart and Devonport already have their own dragons.
The aim of the dragon boat association is to promote both fitness through paddling and fun for all the participants.
The blessing of the 'dragon' (a creature of the water) was conducted by a Buddhist monk whose gave a traditional blessing in Engligh and Sanscrit (the ancient and sacred language of India).

A naval adventure set in 1802

It's two months since I updated my blog - the reason - I have been flat-out writing my latest manuscript.
I won't quote its title yet as two of my previous novels have had their titles changed (much to my disappointment).
As I mentioned below, with the death of Bob Tanner, my agent, I am not sure where I will be sending this work but I'm hoping International Scripts will be able to place it for me.
As a brief insight into the latest novel - it is a naval adventure set in the pre-Trafalgar years of 1802/3.
It is written primarily for a male audience, though anyone who enjoys the adventures of Horatio Hornblower (CS Forester) or Captain Jack Aubrey (Patrick O'Brian) should hopefully relate to this one.
I'm still debating whether to use my own name or a pseudonym.
Do men read naval adventures written by a woman?
Photo: HMS Victory - Portsmouth MM

Bob Tanner dies

Last week, Bob Tanner, my literary agent in London died.
He was 88 and still working.
Though I only ‘met’ Bob through our email conversations, I soon came to realise he was a man of few words, astute and had a vast knowledge of the book business in the UK.
Bob accepted me into his stable of authors (which includes many distinguished writers) in 2005.
At the time I was a raw beginner and it is thanks to him that my first novel ‘Sea Dust’ was published.
Subsequently I have had two other books published thanks to International Scripts.

Recently I had been polishing up my latest manuscript to send to Bob and was hoping he would like it.
My hope now is that Bob’s daughter, Jill Lawson, a fellow director of the company, will take over where Bob left off.
RIP Bob

Happy New Year from Tasmania

I wish you all a very happy, safe and prosperous New Year.
In 2007 I did a few things - in 2008 I know I can achieve a lot more.
As they say in the movies, 'Bring it on!'
Photo: At home in the Tamar Valley 15 km from Launceston, Tasmania

Boxing Day Tsunami

When the Tsunami swept across the Indian Ocean on Boxing Day (2004) and hundreds of thousands of people died, I was on board a cruise ship visiting the Antarctic Peninsula.
For about three days the vessel was out of contact with the world and when the news of the catastrophe filtered through it was sparce and limited.
Last night on TV I watched a documentaries about the Tsunami and through home videos taken at the time, I witnessed something of the full horror of that event.
The power of the sea, when unleashed, is a force to be seen to be believed.
I take this opportunity to spare a Christmas thought for those who lost so much, and those who still carry the mental scars of that event.

Billy Ruffian

"Billy Ruffian" (The Bellerophon and the downfall of Napoleon - the biography of a ship of the line 1782-1836) by David Cordingly.
The Bellerophon's career spanned 50 years.
She was launched on the Medway in 1786, a 74 gunner which fought at The Battle of the Glorious First of June, The battle of the Nile, and at Trafalgar.
But one of her finest hours was when she transported Napoleon, with due dignity on his 'surrender', from France to England.
The Bellerophon's ignominious end, like that of so many other proud ships, was as a prison hulk, before being condemned to the breakers' yard.
This is a non-fiction, well researched account which reads like the pages of a sea story.
Billy Ruffian is the affectionate name given to the ship by the seamen who sailed on her.
For lovers of books of naval heroes, I would highly recommend the biography of the Bellorophon.
Available from Amazon UK

Merry Christmas

".....So to all of you at Christmas, I wish you Yule-tide cheer
As I read my Mr. Dickens there’s one true voice I hear
That dear old man, that Mr Scrooge, astute – no not a mug
He, only he, had got it right, Christmas is - Humbug!"
These are the last few lines of a poem I wrote and posted in December 2006.
Well, a fair bit has changed in my life since then.
My new life in Tassie is looking good.
Perhaps next year I will write a poem and leave out the 'Humbug'!
Happy Christmas to one and all.
Marg

Riding in Cradle Mountain country

I've never ridden a horse before (if you don't count the donkeys on Scarborough beach), so the idea of a half-day ride in the Cradle Mountain foothills appealed to me.
Having my grandson, Jake, visit me, was a great excuse to do something I had wanted to do for a long time.
It was great!
The horses were placid and walked most of the time.
I was suprised how steep the gradients were but we made it and the views were magnificent.
Haing done it once, I must do it again one day.
And it will all help if I ever get back to writing my Patagonia story.

Photo: Jacob and his mount taken when we stopped for morning tea

The Ben Lomond experience

No, I am not in Scotland!
Ben Lomond is in the north east of Tasmania and this was my first visit.
I was told there were snowfields at the top (in winter), but didn't realise the road to the top of the mountain was a zig-zag gravel track with a sheer drop at the side.

Not being a braveheart when it comes to heights, I only made it to the first bend (you can see where I left the car).
Just as well, as the road ahead was shrouded in cloud and there had been a minor rock fall higher up.
Not to be outdone, my grandson and I climbed to the top.
Wow! what a view!
Photo: The road up Ben Lomond
Photo: "It's neither at the bottom and neither at the top..."

Cuckoo and peacock - an odd couple

I've previously mentioned the flowers growing in my English-style garden here in Tasmania.
At the moment I have black poppies, blue cornflowers, masses of red valerian,
forget-me-nots, jasmine and various varieties of honeysuckle, and of course dozens of different roses.
But the sights in the garden are not the only things which differ from my garden in Western Australia.
In the evening, instead of listening to the trucks rolling along on the Great Eastern Highway, I listen to the night sounds.
The thump of the feet of the tiny Bennet's wallabies, the call of a cuckoo and, just recently, the cry of a peacock high in tree.
I was told the male bird (who used to be part of a pair) visits every spring.
None of the neighbours know where he comes from. But the calls of the the cuckoo and peacock are most distinctive - and beautiful.
Photo: Peacocks at Cataract Gorge in Launceston (within walking distance of the city). MM

Bad Ground - a must read!

There are not many books which grab me to the extent that I will sit all day glued to the pages.
Bad Ground written by Tony Wright is one of those books.
It’s not fiction - it's a true story - but it reads like an adventure. It has everything - tension, raw emotion, unreal setting, honest dialogue, conflict and above all human drama.
Bad Ground is the retelling of the Beaconsfield mine disater where one miner died and two were rescued. Where the odds stacked against their survival were enormous.
But it’s not just the story of Brant Webb and Todd Russell, but it’s the story of their rescuers – the men who came from the length and breadth of Australia; it’s the story of the families – and the heartwrenching wait for news which went on for days and days; it’s the story of a trajedy unfolding when Larry Knight’s body was discovered; and above all, it’s the story of joy and celebration when the recue was finally completed.
I compliment Tony Wright – journalist and author - for his narrative and the supurb way in which he related this event.
(Page-down to read of some of the visits I have made recenlty to Beaconsfield)

The Himalayan Express

No - this is not the train I am talking about!
One of the new great train lines of the world was only completed and opened recently.
It runs for 4000 km from Behjing (China) to Lhasa (Tibet).
And because it travels into the Himalayas and to very high altitudes, the train has to be oxygenated to compensate for the rarified air.
When I got a flyer from my travel agent about a tour going next year, I couldn't resist the opportunity to sign up.
Apart from the 3 day train journey, there is time in China to see the Great Wall, time in Nepal and Tibet to see the great monastaries and shrines, time to visit the base camp of Everest and time to sightsee in Kathmandu.
I remember as a child learning the peom which goes something like: there's little wooden idol, to the north of Kathmandu....
Who ever thought that one day I would be visiting that part of the world!
Photo: Steam engine at the Don River Museum in Northern Tasmania. MM

Alias the Cat - Random House request review

Imagine how excited I was when I received an email from Random House, UK.
But it wasn't what I could have wished for.
The email read: I’m getting in touch about Alias the Cat : the latest weird and totally wonderful graphic narrative by Kim Deitch, who has been creating comics since 1967. It’s a kaleidoscopic read; full of mistaken identities, disguises, explosions and insidious plots, and is of course rendered in Deitch’s inimitable style.
Random House asked if I was interested in writing a review.

I said yes, but on receipt of the book found myself in unfamiliar territory.
Here is my review:
I’m not a comics reader, so reading Kim Deitch's graphic narrative, Alias the Cat, was a new experience for me.
Unlike a standard novel, where the reader’s mind is allowed free-rein to conjure images of scenes, characters and events, Deitch’s black and white artwork depicts each and every setting and action in infinite detail.
When reading Alias the Cat, the reader’s imagination quickly becomes redundant.
Furthermore; Deitch’s characters resemble cardboard cut-outs which are replicated from page to page and the faces look like duplicated copy-and-paste postings. Though some characters carry smiles, most of the faces wear troubled, shocked or pained expressions.
For me, Deitch’s artwork, though interesting in its sheer volume, lacks vibrancy, and carries a negative overall impression.
As to the storyline; Alias the Cat is a hotchpotch of weird events loosely connected by the appearance of feline characters/dolls and/or a skin-tight cat costume. The narrative rambles between seeming fact, fiction and psychedelic imaginings.
The story-line comes from nowhere and goes nowhere. It lacks punch and verve and tends to repetition and the dialogue is sadly dated reflecting the voice of an ageing writer.
Alias the Cat is devoid of subtlety and it completely misses the boat to my (Australian) sense-of-humour department.
Although the book’s jacket could be misconstrued as the cover of a comic book for kids, Alias the Cat is certainly not a children’s book.
Deitch’s themes are definitely adult and this graphic publication could only appeal to the unimaginative reader.

The craft of writing missing at Deloraine Fair

Deloraine on the Meander River Valley in the north of Tasmania is home to one of the best craft fairs in Australia.
This year it held its 27th Annual event. It ran for 4 days early in November and being new to Tasmania, I couldn't resist a visit.
On display at the 200 stalls, I saw no shortage of local and interstate crafts plus a display of Japanes themed attractions.
But for me, however, there was one thing lacking.
There were no writers present (to my knowledge). And no signed books to purchase.

My point is: if writing is a craft then surely it should be represented.I realize writers don't make much money, but there are many crafts people who don't get rightly rewarded for the time and effort they put into their work.
I also know that the cost of stalls is not cheap.
Perhaps, however, there is a group of writers who would like to showcase their writing and share a stall next year at Deloraine.
Worth a thought - isn't it?
Photo: Main street, Deloraine - Quamby Bluff in distance MM

Mini-field of Pink Ladies - Breast Cancer Fundraiser

I was back in Beaconsfield about 10 days ago to support their Breast Cancer Mini-field event.
This type of event is held throughout Australia and the money raised goes to Breast Cancer research.
The ideas is that Pink Ladies are purchased/sponsored and then 'planted' in a local park or field.
I 'planted' my pink lady in memory of my sister, Barbara Boasman.

And I was back in Beaconsfield again today to give a talk on my inspiration for writing to the Cancer Support and Social Group.
I now find myself signed up for the Launceston Relay for Life - another cancer fundraising event.
The relay is a 24 hour walk/run around an oval.
Teams from various groups and organisations throughout the region compete.
Although this is a baton event and no one has to run for 24 hours, it's just as well it's not on until next March as that gives me a few months to get fit!
Photo: MM at Beaconsfield mini-field day

Beaconsfield - the town built on a gold field

Today most folk have heard of the Beaconsfield in Tasmania - mainly because of the mine rescue which happened here over a year ago.
I never realised I would be living only 25 minutes away.
Just recently the gold mine reopened for production and I visited the town and the local Grubb Shaft Museum with my son.
If you are touring Tasmania, the museum is well worth a visit.
Photo: Rob Dunn with main shaft in the background.

The Black Thread by Margaret Muir - sold out!

I came home from the Far South Camp to the news that after only 7 weeks, the first edition of my latest novel, The Black Thread, had sold out.
I hope that publisher, Robert Hale Limited, will consider reprinting this hardback edition.
Photo: Cover - The Black Thread

Ross Bridge - Tasmania

Driving through the Midlands, I stopped at the small hamlet of Ross.
Here I found the lovely stone bridge - reputed to be the best example of its kind in the state.
Though not quite the oldest in Tasmania - the bridge at Richmond has that title.
Not only the bridge but many buildings in the village remind one of the English countryside.
Photo: Ross Bridge - M Muir

Scrimshaw - the Whaler's art

I couldn't leave Hobart without a visit to the Maritime Museum.
Apart from a display of models, pictures and histories of the early ships and visitors to the region, the museum provided details of the whaling industry which was conducted in the southern waters for many years.
Fine examples of Scrimshaw are on display.
Designs of ships, nauticl scenes and loved ones were carved with only the tools the seamen had on board - knives and neddles (for sail repairs).
Soot, tobacco juice, lamp black or tar were used to colour the carved designs.
Whale bone and teeth were used and bones from other sea creatures.
Photo: Scrimshaw in Hobart's Maritime Museum

The Lady Neson and Windward Bound

As I didn't want to drive the 324 km back to Launceston that afternoon, I booked into a B&B in Hobart and stayed the night.
The following morning I visited the Hobart Harbour and was delighted to find both the Lady Nelson and Windward Bound tied up on the wharf.
Both vessels offer daily short cruises.
Unfortunately I didn't have the time to take advantage of a harbour cruise.
Photo: M Muir - Hobart

Kit of Cloudy Bay - Franklin Wooden Boat

Driving north to Hobart, I stopped at the little town of Franklin.
I had heard on the ABC that the renowned boat building yard had launched its latest craft that morning.
As I drove up I was delighted to see Kit of Cloudy Bay (named after the owner's mother) making its second trial on the water.
The hull, I believe, was crafted from Huon Pine, a rare timber which grows at only 1 ml at year. Some of the timber in the area is over 2000 years old.
No wonder the Greenies are adverse to the logging of the old growth forests!
Photo: Launch day for Kit of Cloudy Bay

Travelling north from Dover

As I drove back from the Wilderness Camp to Hobart I couldn't resist taking a few photos on the way.
I kept hearing myself say, "this is a beautiful place".
The photos hardly do the views justice.
Photo: M Muir - South of the Huon Valley

The Far South Wilderness - Tasmania

Being Author in Residence at the Camp was a great experience for me.
My previous expeiences as an author had been limited to talks at clubs and libraries. And mainly to adult audience.
I had never been involved with an extended three day event and had not been involved with school students.
Having accepted the challenge and thoroughly enjoyed the experience, I will be looking at other similar opportunities.
I guess you are never too old to try something new!
Photo: Peak overlooking Strathblane with some snow remaining on top

French landing at Recherche Bay

When I travelled to the Far South Wilderness Camp I knew little or nothing about the French impact on Tasmania.
During an evening around the campfire, the group was treated to a history lesson, by local historian, Paddy Prosser.
I discovered that two French ships in search of La Pereuse, landed near the mouth of the Esperance River.
It was an expeditionary party who interacted well with the local aborigines.
Many place names in the area reflect the French visit even though it was fairly brief.
To create atmosphere, Paddy dressed eight of the students in French costumes - seamen, revolutionaries - aristocrats - and concluded the evening with songs which she had written telling tales of the men and of the old sailing ships.
Photo: Paddy Prosser and group of students from the Huon region.

Inspiration for writing - goats and tall ships!

As an into to the writing sessions, I gave the group an insight into what inspired me to write.
For me the two most important things were - goats and tall ships!!
The students, aged from 10 to 14 years, were intrigued.
From there we went on to model a short story.
Over the three days, each student produced a piece of work suitable to go into an anthology.
Apart from myself, Damian Bester, a journalist, and June Burrell, illustrator, also provided sessions in the crafts of writing and illustrating.

The 34 students who attended the course were selected from the Huon cluster of schools which included, Huonville Primary and High, Cygnet, Franklin, Geeveston and Dover schools.
They were a great group, who despite age differences, interacted extrememly well.
Photo: Students plus teachers, Ms Lee and Mr Andrews and jounalist, Damien Bester (back row second from right)

Writers' Wilderness Camp

I was indeed fortunate to be chosen as the author in residence for a three-day workshop conducted by the education department for the Huon District group of Schools.
The Camp was held at the Wilderness Adventure Camp on the Esperance River near Strathblane.
It was a 324 kilometer drive from Launceston but as I had never driven south before, it was an enjoyable experience.
Photo: Wilderness Camp in pristine forest

Children's Writing Workshop with Mike Lefroy

In early October, I drove to Burnie on the north coast of Tasmania for a Writing Workshop.
It was a 90 minute drive from Launceston, but the scenery and the 6 hour session, made it worthwhile.
Mike Lefroy, like myself, has a keen interest in Maritime history.
Also like myself, he comes from WA.
Having seen the types of books he produces, I came away with a new insight into what the market is interested with regard to children's writing.
I must re-look at some of my previous work and think about submitting.
Photo: North coast of Tasmania, looking across the Forth River to Turner's Beach and Ulverstone.

Granny Buttons posts Black Thread review

Was I looking into the canal for inspiration?
Who knows what I was thinking at the time, but I did manage to get a story out of it!

The following review of my latest novel comes from Andrew Denny of www.grannybuttons.com
Andrew must be regarded as one of the leading UK canal bloggers - certainly for volume of articles published, variety of material and its regularity, not to mention the quality of his photographic images.

Andrew's review (posted 13 Sept) begins:
I've been reading The Black Thread a historical novel by Margaret Muir.
It's set at the end of the Victorian era, mainly in Leeds and on the Leeds & Liverpool Canal up to Saltaire and Bingley.
The canal research on this one is good, and it turns out to be a pretty hot page turner.
It's nominally a historical novel with romantic embroidery, but it's fast-paced, the storytelling is taut and never drags, and smartly-plotted. The conclusion is neat (if a little improbable) but cleverly explains Amy's name and several other points in the story.
At the heart of the story is a family of Number Ones running their L&L 'short boat' mainly on the Leeds side of the canal, and this is where the story's research really shows.....
To read the rest of the review, go to:
http://www.grannybuttons.com/granny_buttons/2007/09/the-black-threa.html#more

Spring in the Tamar Valley

I'm just loving the early spring flowers colouring the garden.
The daffodils are out and the snowdrops and irises.
Camellias are an absolute picture (as you can see) and the azaleas are coming into full bloom, and lots of flowers I don't know the names of.
And every branch on the fruit trees is covered in blossom.
Most magnificent are the magnolias I have sen nearby, though I don't have a tree in the garden.
Photo: Camellia bush outside my kitchen window and morning mist in the valley.

A camellia by any other name!

How could I resist buying a camellia with the name - China Doll.
China Doll was the name of one of my favourite goats.
Although she died several years ago, I will never forget her.
Whenever I went out in the paddock she would follow me, and if I sat down on the grass she would come and sit next to me and lay her head on my lap and happily go to sleep.
It's hard to forget those special animals?
Guess I'm feeling sentimental.

Photo: Curly (another pet) checking out my brief case!
Photo: China Doll - camellia variety