tonypark.net

Living the dream... vicariously

2009-07-15T17:56:00.003+10:00

Now, if you think I have a good life (and I do), living in Africa's great national parks for six months of the year and the land of no bottled water for the remainder, then you should pop over and have a look at this blog on the South African National Parks website.

The blog's author, Martie, is a South African woman who has been living abroad, but has returned to SA to spend a year in Kruger, living her dream. Yes, that's right, a year camping in the Kruger National Park.

Martie posts pictures of the animals and birds she's seen each day, and shots taken in the camps.

If you like Africa, Kruger, or wildlife, you'll love it.

Bottled water... farm invasions... ANTM...

2009-07-12T13:28:00.002+10:00

Where to start? There is so little happening in my world right now that it's hard to know where to to start rambling.

I've worked out that I actually blog more when I'm busy. I know for a fact that when I'm in Africa, researching and writing my books, I consciously try and blog each day as a means of getting my brain into gear (and convincing Mrs Blog that I've actually started working, as opposed to... well, blogging).

But in the here and now, with a few weeks more of being in between books with little to do, I've faffed my way into a blogging standstill. Except for now, of course, because I'm feeling so guilty that I decided I must write something for you, all four of you remaining Legion of Fans (LOF) (and I fear that includes the relatives).

The only two things I can think to write about are bottle water and farm invasions - both of which have left me feeling thoroughly pissed off this week.

The important one first.... this week Mrs B and I received grim news that friends of ours in Zimbabwe have just had their farm invaded - again. They've been lucky (after a fashion) these last few years in that they have actually been allowed to keep farming, after being kicked off their land for a while in the early days of the invasions.

It's a complicated situation, and I don't want to into details for fear of identifying them and upsetting someone, but the upshot is that they've been able to hang in there on their property while others all over the country were evicted.

I'm not starry-eyed about the power sharing deal brokered between ZANU-PF and the MDC, and I don't think I even dared hope that with Mugabe still in total power in all but name only that there would be any sense injected into the land debate. What's happening, I guess, is that across the country there is a rash of last-minute land grabs (as in what's happened to our friend).

At least I hope it is a last minute grab. If it is, and our friends can hold out without bowing to this particular invader's threats of violence (threats of death to their African employees, so far), that they might be able to survive until some semblance of order does actually return to the country.

I remain, or at least I try to remain, optimistic for Zimbabwe. Africa's a roller-coaster and today's basket case country is tomorrrow's powerhouse. Mozambique was coming out of a long and bloody civil war when I first went to Africa in 1995 and today it's peaceful, welcoming, and, in its own way, forging ahead. It's still poor, but it's on the up. By contrast, Zimbabwe was peaceful and relatively prosperous when I first visited it in 1995. Now the country is gasping on its death bed.

But I am optimistic. In the years since Mugabe gave into demands for compensation by the veterans of the liberation war and allowed/encouraged/facillitated the farm invasions and subsequent land grab, Zimbabweans have flocked to the polls in a series of ill-fated elections.

Despite being beaten (literally) and bowed, opposition politicans have seen their votes increase and steadily added to their tally of seats. Voters have risked and suffered intimidation to exercise thier democratic right.

No matter whose figures you believe from the last election, the indisputable fact is that voting in Zimbabwe now cuts across racial, tribal and socio economic lines, and people who were once steadfast supporters of Mugabe's government have fallen in with the opposition.

Once there is real change at the top in Zimbabwe (that's a euphemism for someone departing, one way or another), I believe Zimbabwe has the potential to emerge as one of the continent's strongest democracies - perhaps its strongest.

Too many African countries have become one-party states in the post colonial era. Zimbabwe was one for many, many years following independence in 1980. South Africa is still one.

People sometimes ask me, "why hasn't someone just killed that man (in Zimabbwe)?". My answer is that no matter what you think of the man at the top, the very fact that no one has killed him speaks volumes about the decency, honesty and faith of the people of Zimbabwe.

Many people believe that if they continue to do the right thing, peacefully turning out to elections and exercising their democratic right to vote, that one day the incumbent government might live up to its end of the bargain and allow free and fair elections, free of violence, and accept the result.

Real change will come to Zimbabwe. Real peace and real democracy will come to Zimbabwe. I'm sure of it. I just hope our friends can hold out until it does.

Meanwhile, back in Australia, in my home state of New South Wales, we have a Premier who has decided to ban the sale of bottled water in plastic bottles. This ground-breaking initiative is because one tiny village, Bundanoon, got some favourable press for voting to ban the sale of bottled water in its town in protest against a drink company wanting to tap into their ground water to extract spring water.

There was also a hoo-hah about reducing the number of plastic bottles going into land fill. Our fearless Premier jumped on the bandwagon and decided that an announcement about banning the sale of a legal product (I think water is legal to sell and if people want to pay for it, I believe they have the right to, and bottlers and shops have the right to make money out of them) was a wise decision for the future betteremnt of the State. Talk about a case of too many politicians and too few issues... (that's Australia for you).

The Premier used the bottled water issue much in the same way that Robert Mugabe used the land issue - that is, to distract the general public's attention from a screwed-up economy and a poor-performing government.

Sure, we're talking about different degrees here, but the strategy's the same. Give me a f-ing break.

In South Australia there is legislation which provides for a refundable deposit on bottles. In parts of Europe, according to a show I saw on TV recently, plastic bottles are washed and re-used. Now there's an ida.

In poverty-stricken Zimbabwe you can't buy a bottle of beer or soft drink without returning an empty. Why can't our politicians learn as much about recycling from Zimbabwe as they can about political strategy?

(Oh, yes,,, ANTM? What does that stand for? Why, America's Next Top Model, of course. Not as good as the Aussie version, as the contestants tend to be strippers and crack-hos, rather than fresh-faced teenagers, but I do worship the ground Tyra Banks walks on, so we will persist with the next season of the American version, starting this Tuesday on Fox8).

Democracy in action... good triumphs over evil

2009-07-07T23:07:00.004+10:00

I speak, of course, of tonight's frankly stunning final of Australia's Next Top Model.

The judges had cast their votes and the score was four to three in favour of the petulant, tantrum-chucking Cassi, with Tahnee (the favourite in the Blog household), watching her modelling career drift away like her very unfortnate last-minute nosebleed. Alex Perry, how could you?

Like millions (I'm sure) of other Australians Mrs Blog and I were galvanised into action early on in the show when the first judges' votes came in. Tahnee was down three-two at that stage, so Mrs B and I texted our votes.

The end result? People power triumphed and Tahnee won such an overwhelming majority of the viewers' votes that it was enough to unbalance the judges. She won!

I let out a whoop of joy.

Afterwards, it got me thinking about Africa. Here I am, living in Sydney, and the only thing of any concern to me in my day-to-day life, in between writing books, was which 17-year-old was going to win a car and a modelling contract.

This is what makes Australia a good country to live in - our (relative) lack of troubles, strife, and our excellent voting system.

And it's also what makes me want to get back to Africa. Soon.

Well done, Tahnee. Your country salutes you, and Mrs Blog and I salute you, you fine young Australian.

Back to Africa...

2009-07-02T18:42:00.007+10:00

Yes, I hear you scream... "get back to talking about Africa. We don't come here to listen to you talk about Australia's Next Top Model, Mr Blog, or listen to your pathetic excuses for not visiting Melbourne or Brisbane..."

I hear you, Legion of Fans (LOF)... loud and clear!

Unfortunately, it's still two months and nine days before fly back to Africa so you, like me, will have to be content with a few re-hashed pictures and a bit of day-dreaming (unless, of course, you live in Africa, in which case you could very well be day dreaming about coming to Australia).

Above is a sunset shot taken at Tsitsikama National Park, South Africa, from my cabin at the Storm's River campsite. What a sensational place it was, too. Spectacular views and very different to the bushveld where Mrs Blog and I usually hang out.

Moving north, we find ourselves on the tranquil waters of Lake Kariba, between Zimbabwe and Zambia. Cue the bird... I think if I could live anywhere in southern Africa if would quite possibly be Kariba, where man and wildlife live, literally, side by side (that is if the man hasn't eaten all the wildlife by now). I'm planning on going back to Kariba on my next trip.

The pesky pied Kingfisher - hardest bird in the world to shoot (with a camera, that is. Pretty easy with a .22, though, I reckon, as they hover for a quite a long time before diving for their prey.) I bagged this beauty in Kruger, near the Sweni Bird Hide.

Not roaring... yawning. Lions do two fifths of bugger all, all day long, so one opening its mouth is a big treat. You can just about hear the "oohs" and the "ahhhs" from the other onlookers around me as I shot His Majesty, mid-yawn. Check those teeth.

All this is making me want to get on that plane, get back to Africa and crank-up old Tonka the Land Rover.

What will I look at for now, though, as I shivver my way through the Sydney winter?

I know, how about...

Forget the the African bush (for now), for the claws, teeth, (fake) fur, and big hair will be flying next Tuesday night as our own Big Cat(ty) Diary, Australia's Next Top Model, reaches its nail-breaking finale.

It's a showdown between the charming, lovely, peronable Tahnee (pictured above... Tahnee's aim in life is to be a Victoria's Secret model - true) and the whingey, whiny, tantrum-chcking boganista, Cassi.

Will good triumph over evil in the circle of life?

(I really need to 1. get back to Africa, or 2. find some work to do until my next book).

On tour - but I ain't afraid of no pig

2009-06-27T11:35:00.003+10:00

Honest, Legion of Fans (LOF), it's not the risk of swine flu that is keeping me away from Victoria.

Newsletter edition two went out yesterday (if you aren't receiving my newsletter, please drop me a line at tonyparknews (at) gmail (dot) com and I'll put you on the list) and already I'm getting some forthright feedback about the lack of any speaking engagements in the fine state of Victoria on the forthcoming Shameless-self-promotion-of-my-pirate-book-IVORY tour.

Yes, Mexicans (which is what people in my state call people in the adjoining state to the south), as things stand at the moment it does not look like I will be venturing south of the border down Melbourne way... In case you didn't get the newsletter I will, however, be appearing at:

New South Wales

St Ives Library - July 31, 11am
Camden Library - August 12, 6.30pm
Belrose Library - August 25, 4pm
Lane Cove Library - August 26, 6pm
Ingleburn Library - August 27, 7pm
Viv's Travel Bug, Bowral, August 28, 5.45pm. Phone 4861 3433 to book.
Gordon Library - August 30, 2.30pm
Hornsby Library - September 3, 6.30pm

Save Foundation Black Tie Ball - September 5, 7pm at the Hunters Hill Sailing Club to raise money for the African Rhino. Two course dinner and South African beer and wine for $90 per head. Bookings essential, contact theafricanqueen@bigpond.com

Queensland
Toowoomba City Library - September 7, 6pm

South Australia
Marion Cultural Centre evening, Adelaide - August 3, 7.30pm. Bookings essential, phone 8375 6855.

West Australia
Dymocks Bookseller Event - August 5, 7pm at Tompkins on Swan Function Centre, Alfred Cove. Welcome, non-alcoholic drink and finger food for $15 per head. Contact Dymocks Garden City on 9364 7387.
Mount Claremont Library - August 6, 7pm, Mount Claremont Community Centre next to the library.

Painted Dog Conservation Inc Fundraiser - August 7, 7pm-9pm in the Gershwin Room, Hyatt Hotel, Perth to raise money for the endangered African Painted Dog. Drinks and canapes included at $50 per head. Bookings essential, contact lemonj@ozemail.com.au

Petition?

Here's the deal - if there is anyone other than Crookpaw and Trin from Victoria who would like me to come down to Australia's hippest, trendiest and coldest capital city (except, I supposed, for Hobart), then I will present your collective case to my publishers.

Normally, I will go to the opening of a door, so I don't need any convincing to go to Melbourne.

In other news... just finishing off the edits to my second non fiction book, which is due at the publishers this week. Hope they like it.

And, in truly important news, Adelle was voted off this week (predictable, but sad nonetheless), leaving only willowy Clare, the petulant and painful Cassi, and the thoroughly delightful Tahnee. I know who my money is on. Speak out, fans of Australia's Next Top Model (ANTM)... I know you're out there and I share your anguish at every elimination.

My reality television weakness is, quite clearly, ANTM. (Yes, I'm a guy, and that sounds a bit gay, but what's not to like - attractive young ladies behaving badly in lingerie?) What's your most embarrassing TV fixation, LOF?

To faff or not to faff...

2009-06-23T18:12:00.004+10:00

Isn't faffing a good word, Legion of Fans (LOF)? Not heard of it? To faff means, well, to appear to be doing something, but not actually achieving anything at all.

Faffing is a way of life for me when I'm in between books, and I quite enjoy it. I could faff for days, weeks, perhaps months on end. In fact, when I worked as a government media adviser circa 1988-1992 I faffed for virtually the entire time (well, that's not entirely true, but I may as well have been faffing for all that I achieved).

With the catchily titled Book 7 having been accepted by my charming, witty, intelligent, Grace- Kelly-lookalike (when Grace was alive) publisher, and while I await some edits for my second (mysterious) non fiction book to come back to me, I technically have nothing to do.

Of course, I have a list of chores to do (organise junk in garage, write another newsletter, vacuum flat, clean bathroom floor, trim hairs in ears) but when I'm in Faff-mode I find it hard to do anything at all. The less busy I am, the lazier I get.

As an example of Faffing, I'm writing this blog, about nothing, instead of dilligently going through a stack of emails I've received about dates when I'll be speaking at various events and engagements following the release of IVORY. If I'd done that, I'd be able to post dates and places here, which might have been of some use to y'all.

Yet here I am, taking the time to write about nothing. I appear to be busy, tapping away on the laptop, but I am achieving zip.

That's Faffing for you.

Tony on tour.... gulp

2009-06-16T17:00:00.003+10:00

Tour dates nearly ready to be released for my whistle-stop-round-parts-of-Australia tour, in order to shamelessly promote the release of my new pirate book, IVORY, post August 1.

Good news is... South Australia is definitely in (after being missed-out last year), as is NSW (of course), Qld (limited stops), and WA (lots of stops), but Victoria.... Well, let us just say, "Trin, do you have any frequent flyer points saved up?"

Paradise lost

2009-06-14T16:40:00.007+10:00

We resume normal transmission, Legion of Fans (LOF). Mrs Blog and I have returned from the South Paficic with all body parts intact, having escaped being eaten by cannibals and (more realistically) food poisoning at the hands of the "chef" (read chief-defroster) at the Nukualofu International Airport Hotel.

Had us a great time, LOF, of that there was no doubt. I'd never fancied myself a cruise ship passenger (at least not for another 40 years or so), but I tell you, after a week aboard the Pacific Dawn I certainly had my sea legs (or was that the copious amount of beer I was drinking in the Lido Bar in between speaking engagements?). My favourite spot on the ship, however, was the poop deck, where Mrs Blog would lounge in our deck chairs in the sun and barely have to raise an eyebrow to attract the unifromed drink waiter's attention.

It was very, very relaxing. And WARM. Bloody hell, LOF, who turned off the heater in Australia while we were gone, eh?

I learned a new saying on Tonga: "Island Time". Island Time is remarkably similar to something else many of you will be familiar with - "African Time". Let us just say that unlike the snappy ship-shape service on the Pacific Dawn, things happenned ashore at their own pace in the Friendly Islands, and rarely without being asked for three or four times.

But how could you not be laid back and blissfully uncaring of interlopers' concepts of time and service when you lived in paradise? The people of the South Pacific (if one were to generalise) remind me of the good people of Botswana (if one were to generalise again). They live in a very nice place, run their own show, and don't much give a fig if tourists arrive late, early or not at all. I have to admire them for that.

Another similarity between the islands and Africa (apart from questionable and variable adherence to the rules of the road when driving) was the ever present spectre of times-past. I saw several charming old colonial homes and administrative buildings in Tonga and many of these had been allowed to go to rack and ruin. Why? Who knows. People don't have the time, inclination, or threat-of-flogging to keep the walls painted and the grass mown, I suppose.

The coast of Mozambique, I noticed (warning, warning, self-promotional segue approaching) is similarly studded with once shining touristic colonial jewels that are in dire need of a dip in coca cola or a scrub with the toothbrush.

In my soon-to-be-released sixth novel IVORY the lead character and modern-day pirate King, Alex Tremain, is trying to restore a once grand, but now run-down hotel on an island off the coast of Mozambique. Alex was born on the island, the priveleged son of the hotel's owners, but he and his family were forced to flee Mozambique when the Portuguese left en-masse in the 1970s.

I based Alex's hotel and the ficitious island where he lives on a number of similar old hotels and beautiful locales on the coast of Moz, from Xai Xai in the south, to the Bazaruto Archipelago, where I travelled extensively in search of inspiration and tax-deductions.

I had a pretty good idea in my own mind of what Alex's hotel must have looked like in its heyday, and how it looked these days. However, truth always being better and more interesting than fiction, I was de-socked to open an email from my ex-Zimbo friend Viv, and find this series of pictures which shows the Grande Hotel in the coastal city of Beira during the olden days of Portuguese rule in Mozambique...

...and then this pic which shows what the exact same hotel looks like these days!

And here's the swimming pool, circa Sasha Distelle...

... and today, where's it's still in use as a mosquito and malaria breeding facility.

So, if/when you pick up your copy of IVORY post August 1 and you want to get an idea of how things were/are in Mozambique, you could do worse than referring back to these amazing pics.

I spent some time in the coastal town of Vilanculos while researching and writing IVORY and was interested to see that its local concrete palace, the Hotel Dona Ana, was undergoing frantic restoration. Mozambique was devastated by civil war for many years and tourism is playing a key role in rejuvenating the country's economy.

It's a funny thing... part of Mozambique's attraction at the moment is that it is relatively quiet and low key in some places (outside of South African school holidays) and the infrastructure (or lack thereof) is keeping out mass tourism. I'm not looking forward to the day when I have to arm wrestle some Teutonic tourist for a sun bed and umbrella by the pool, but another part of me hopes that one day more of these grande olde monoliths will once more be gleaming with white wash and brimming with people in sandals and socks.

The very fact that so many of these colonial hotels are still standing on the coast is a tribute to the Portuguese colonialists' appreciation and mastery of the art of concreting. They mightn't be as attractive as a low-key, eco-friendly burres made of palm fronds and rafia work, but they do stand up to the odd cyclone and the test of time very well.

African Time and Island Time are all well and good, LOF, and I'd hate to sea the Indian Ocean coast of Mozambique built-out from north to south, but there's room on the beach and in the market for a few more of these concrete colonial casas and their snappily-attired and snappily-moving drinks waiters to make a come back.

Castaway!

2009-06-11T15:45:00.002+10:00

Captain'f log, June 11th,

After running out of jokes and storief about the dark continent, and refufing to dreff appopriately for the Outback Hoe Down Lady Blog and I were forced to walk the plank in Tonga and were caftaway from the MV Paficific Dawn.

Although chriftened the 'friendly ifles' by Captain Cook, the good people of thif island nation alfo have a penchant for cooking hapleff castaways, according to Mr Grant Hyde Efq in hif excellent book, Lordf of the Pacific.

Today we learned that we were, in fact, marooned in Nukualofa af our flight home, on Pacific Blue, was cancelled. We currently await our fate in an encampment near the airport.

At thif moment the only thing going according to plan if the free wireleff internet acceff. Lady Blog'f complementary meal just arrvied stone cold. A cannibal'f cooking fire would not go astray right now - at leaft we would get a hot meal.

The drumf, Legion of Fanf, the drumf...

The nativef are getting restleff.

There are worfe placef to be shipwrecked, LOF, but I can alfo think of fome better onef.

Lord of the Pacific

2009-06-08T18:54:00.003+10:00

“Some people dream of a lonely island… stuck in the middle of a lonely seeeeeeeea.”

And I found one, Legion of Fans (LOF), Amadee Island. Amadee is actually French for sea snakes and expensive beer, but it was as pretty as a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical and an extremely agreeable place to spend my first shore leave from my arduous duties as Commodore of the MV Pacific Dawn’s inaugural book club.

(If you’ve just joined us, I’m on a freebie, acting as the guinea pig for P&O’s first on-board book club, spruiking my books and delivering an arduous program of lectures – three in six days, if you must know).

And what better place than L’isle de la sea Serpente et Bier Extravagante to start reading LORDS OF THE PACIFIC by new Macmillan Australian author Grant Hyde.

My oh my, LOF, if this isn’t a cracking yarn then you can call me Frank Co…. Enough of that.

Grant, who I have yet to meet but look forward to stalking, is a former first grade Rugby League player (Roosters) who has had all manner of career changes before ending up as a part time author and full time Qantas baggage handler. All true. Well, the man can write and although I’m only a third through he is putting LORDS OF THE PACIFIC long and high and it’s currently heading straight between the posts.

LORDS OF THE PACIFIC is set in the 18th Century in the South Pacific, with much of the action taking place on Tonga, where Mrs Blog and I will sadly be disembarking our cruise and then flying home.

The book’s a bit of a cross between Bernard Cornwell, Patrick O’Brien and vintage Wilbur. Damn good stuff, and I am learning heaps (like how the Tongans used to cook people alive and then eat them. Really looking forward to getting to Tonga).

I should point out, here, that I would have been reading the exceptionally nice Katherine Howell’s first thriller, FRANTIC, if Mrs Blog hadn’t snaffled it early on in the Cruise. She’s loving it.

Apropos of LORDS OF THE PACFICIC, I’m actually living a bit of a Lord Jim life meself at the moment, shipmates. The Filipino staff here on Pacific Dawn have an endearing habit of referring to male passengers as “Sir”, followed by their name.

So I am “Sir Anthony” to the barman on the Lido Deck and “Sir Tony” to our charming stewardess who looks after our cabin. Normally I wouldn’t brook such familiarity, but our stewardess has done such a champion job I shall continue to allow her to refer to me in the diminutive form.

All jokes aside the service on this ship is superb and the food is excellent and I’m not just saying that because I’m on a freebie.

I do believe Mrs Blog and I are getting into the whole cruising thing. It’s been a perfect opportunity to unwind from my normal busy schedule of traveling on country library buses and attending important lunches.

Fortunately, the inaugural book club meeting was held on the coldest, wettest day of the cruise so far. There was no question of shuffleboard or hot-tub socializing, and as the book club meeting was scheduled immediately prior to the daily Bingo extravaganza I had an excellent roll up. To make sure the crowd was paying attention I would occasionally interrupt my monologue with “Eyes down… legs eleven!”

Seriously (once more) it was a great roll up and lots of people bought copies of SILENT PREDATOR (lest you think I was being too generous plugging Grant’s book, this blog is, after all, all about me) from the ship-board boutique.

I fielded lots of very good questions about books and writing and now I know I am going to have to think very hard to come up with something worthy and sensible to say in the next two meetings.

Until then, I shall continue to immerse myself in the Pacific of yore.

I had another dose of South Pacific history last night when the onboard movie channel screened a remake of THE South Pacific. It was filmed in Australia – on the Gold Coast if I’m not mistaken, and starred the very elderly Glenn Close as the supposedly young and naïve Nurse Nellie Forbush. Odd.

The male leads were all equally aged and much more heavyset Australians (Jack Thompson included). Odd, LOF, very odd. I love the original (how gay is that) and the music, but this remake looked like the handycam-recorded performance of the Surfer’s Paradise Amateur Dramatic Society.

Still, I did sing along with every track, much to Mrs Blog’s consternation as she lay beside me with a pillow over her head.

Ah, bless her. “There is absolutely nothing like aaaaaaaaa daaaaaaaaaaaaaaame.”

Thoughts, Legion of Fans? Have I been at sea too long? Trin, Les, stay tuned to Cruise Cam as I may be doing my rendition of ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ on the poop deck later this evening.

Something for you to read in case I get captured by pirates...

2009-06-04T10:12:00.004+10:00

Bags are packed.

Hawaiian shirt - tick
Sunscreen - tick
Bermuda shorts - tick
Book: How to Win at Shuffleboard - tick
Last Will and Testament - tick.
Book: Assegai - tick (may come in handy as a life raft a la Leonardo and Kate in Titanic in case of icebergs).
Sketchbook and charcoal - tick.

We're good to go, Legion of Fans (LOF). Hopefully I'll soon be beaming to you live from Bali Hai and other points of the South Pacific, but just in case, as promised in an earlier comment, I thought I'd direct you towards some very talented and thorougly nice lady authors who I met duirng my recent drunken stay on the Gold Coast.

As we say in the South West Pacific Theatre of Operations, "there is nothing like a dame", so here are three grande dames (note drawn-out and un-PC segue, not one of my best) of the Australian literary scene, whose works I commend to youse all:

Katherine Howell: writer of Aussie crime novels and perhaps the nicest person ever to put finger to keyboard (she sent me an email the other day telling me she thought my blog was funny, so Katherine gets extra points). I sneaked a peek at the first three pages of her first book, FRANTIC, the other day, and I fear ASSEGAI may be doing a bit of time as the door stop in the cabin on this trip.

Katherine's a former ambulance paramedic and so is one of her characters - got my pulse up to 180 over sixty (or whatever they say) in the first page. More valium, stat... I have have an appointment with a deck chair. Katherine also hands out free chocolates at her book signings to shame people into buying her books... errr, I mean because she is so nice.

Sydney Bauer: writer of legal thrillers set in Boston, US & A. You know, after meeting the very charming Sydney I almost said to her, "say, how come an Aussie is writing books set in America?" when I suddenly remebered the 3,429 people who have asked me, "say, how come an Aussie is writing books set in Africa?".

Mrs Blog is going to be reading ALIBI on the boat, errr ship, errr whatever in between posing.

Kathy Webb: writer(s) of chick lit. Now, this is complicated... Kathy Webb is an amalgam (right word?) of two people, Kathy Wilkinson and her sister, Mrs Webb. They write their books together. I met Kathy Wilkinson and she was as thoroughly nice as Katherine and Sydney. Now if you think this whole sisters-writing-together-and-joining-names thing sounds complicated, you should try having it explained to you at midnight after too many drinks.

Well, that's enough promotion of other people, back to me.

Ooops, sorry, don't forget my good friend and flood victim Peter Watt.

Also I met a top bloke at Literati who is a seller of books and aspiring writer, Mr David Hibbins. David has just started a blog called bookblog in which he is inviting members of the public to review selected books, and offering cash prizes for reviews! Trin, Les, and all the rest of you out... pens and pencils out and pop over and say hi to all my writerly friends while I dash off for welcome cocktails with the Captain, and lifeboat drill.

"Another Mai Tai, Isaac, and don't go easy on the umbrellas this time, my man!"

I'm the king of the world!

2009-06-03T18:15:00.003+10:00

Leonardo di Caprio eat your heart out... here I am, Legion of Fans (LOF) on board the magnificent, luxurious and totally virus-free MV Pacific Dawn, doing a quick brush up on my fifth book, SILENT PREDATOR so I can sound like I know what I'm talking about when I address the ship's first ever on-board book club.

Gulp.

It could be a bit embarrassment sitting around with people discussing my book. Oh well, if the worst happens and no one fronts for the book club I can always console myself with Pina Coladas on the poop deck.

I'm looking forward to my SIX-DAY CRUISE TO TONGA, LOF. And why wouldn't I be? Flu-shmoo, who cares. When the opportunity presents itself for a passage to some exotic south sea island, together with the promise of drinks with umbrellas and the opportunity to wear my Hawaiian shirt in public, not even the Bubonic Plague could keep me ashore.

I was hoping to have all my work done before embarking (as we say in nautical circles) but unfortunately I'm still doing the first edit of my second non-fiction book. You know, the one about....

Still, it will keep me out of mischief for the first few days and keep me away from the Karaoke Bar (rest assured, I will get there) for a short while. Mrs Blog will be pleased.

So, I'm about to set my course for adventure, my mind on a new romance (romance scene that is, as in for a future book, not a new romance, as the small but perfectly formed Mrs Blog will be joining me on this cruise). We look forward to leaning out over the pointy end, dancing with the poor but happy folk in steerage, and perhaps even finding a Model T Ford stowed away somewhere in the cargo hold.

As well as discussing the deep and inner meanings of SILENT PREDATOR (what did happen to Tom Furey's jag when he left England for Africa?) I also intend on heavily spruiking my forthcoming book IVORY which is, in case you didn't know, about MODERN DAY PIRACY.

Poor old Pacific Dawn. After her run of luck this week wouldn't it be terrible if she was set upon by pirates?

Ahhhh, but think of the free PR for the new book!

Pipe me aboard, number one, for it's time to weigh anchors, arc up the Karaoke machine and break out the drink umbrellas! Come on pirates, take your best shot across our bows (please? I need the publicity).

What about you, LOF? Cruise fan or not?

Literati.. very GC

2009-05-31T13:11:00.002+10:00

It’s just as well my good mate and fellow Pan Macmillan author Peter Watt was trapped in his home by rising floodwaters and couldn’t make it to this years Gold Coast council Literati writers’ event.

If he had, I might be dead.

Hung over, Legion of Fans (LOF) is what I am right now, as I type this from the grandly named but still fairly unglitzy Gold Coast International Airport (the airport formerly known as Coolangatta).

The last time Peter Watt and I caught up for a drink we pulled stumps at four in the morning and by that time Peter had convinced me that it would be a good idea to start my next book (IVORY, the one due out August 1) with a scene where modern day pirates hijack a huge car carrying ship.

When I eventually sobered up I thought to myself that no one would believe a car carrier being hijacked (in order to steal its load of factory-fresh automobiles), but real-life Somali pirates later seized a ship carrying tanks for the Kenyan Army, so I figured my pirates could, after all, get away with making off with a few Hummer H3s.

Even with Peter’s absence (which I really was very disappointed about), I still managed to end up talking Swahili by the end of the Literati Dinner. I had an absolutely sensational time and have decided that Literati is the best writers’ festival I’ve ever been to (in fact, it’s the only one, but from what I know of the others, this one is still the best).

At the dinner forty authors (all much more famous than me) and about 150 guests all chowed down in the Gold Coast Arts Centre and us people what can write moved from table to table in between courses.

I met many very nice people, including readers Bruce and Mark who came to the event as a result of being spammed by me when I put out my first e-newsletter recently. I thank you and your significant others for coming along and I wish I could have spent more time with you (especially as you two knew who I was).

However, I was able to sell a couple of books to complete strangers and meet some new and interesting people, such as the lady who told me how her husband reads “romance” scenes to her in the privacy of their boudoir.

I think it should be compulsory for all literary events to include an all-you-can-drink bar (or at least I did before waking this morning).

I like the Gold Coast, or, as it is called these days, the GC.

A Sydney friend of mine was pooh-poohing Surfer’s Paradise when I told him I was heading for the Coast for this event. “Too much concrete blah blah blah; fake tans, fake boobs blah blah blah,” he went on at me. He was wrong, of course - all the tans are real on the GC.

Sure, there may be a higher-than-national-average amount of concrete high rises and silicone on the GC but, hey, they do make for stunning views.

This morning (Saturday, actually, as I'm posting all this a day late), I went for a 10-kilometre run to attempt to sober up before my midday talk at Southport Library, and to punish myself for my excessive drinking and non-sensical dinner table talk.

And guess what, one-eyed Sydney fans… never before on a run have I encountered so many g’days and smiles and so much all-round friendliness while pounding the waterfront. The people of the GC seem very comfortable in their tanned wrinkly skins. They’re happy to be alive and no longer working (either temporarily or permanently) and very friendly to strangers.

It’s the sort of place where if you’re not on holiday or on the run from a crime committed elsewhere, then you’re probably retired. In short, everyone is happy to be there, rather than in Sydney or Melbourne or Auckland.

It was a good run, and an easy one, thanks to the total lack of hills. Who says reclaiming swamp land is bad? Even the footpaths are friendlier in Surfers.

I spoke to a very nice and very responsive audience at the library today (yesterday) and did my best to appear lucid and sober. I also met some more very nice people who knew who I was (thank you, Moira and Karen for coming along) and did my best to push Peter Watt’s books as well as mine (Peter was also supposed to be at the talk with me).

Getting back to the dinner, the other good thing (apart from the unlimited booze) was being able to meet other book writers. It is, as we say in cliché-land, a lonely business writing books, so it was good to me to get together with other people who suffer as I do for my Legion of Fans.

On that note, LOF, the word is that my shipboard book club engagement on board the MV Pacific Dawn is still going ahead. (For the non-Australians, the Pacific Dawn has recently been quarantined due to an outbreak of Swine Flu and scurvy among its passengers and crew).

GC one weekend, Tonga the next… The things I do for you, LOF. Spare a thought me and those of your fellow readers in peril on the sea next week.

(PS: I’ll be past a couple of deadlines next week, so expect many trivial tales from the South Pacific).

Moaning! Parkcast number 2.

2009-05-26T21:49:00.002+10:00

Sex!

Oops, I mean romance. Do I have your attention Legion of Fans (LOF), and assorted perverts who have found their way here through some naughty googling?

Parkcast (that's my big-headed name for a Podcast) number two is, um, up, and it's available at the top left hand corner of this blog via something called an RSS feed, or some such thing.

My IT fundi (that's African for guru, which is Indian for expert), The Barman, has been working his magic behind the scenes on the blog and you can now access both pod.. I mean Parkcasts at your leisure and, if you believe the little widget thing to the left, you can have them delivered to your email, or something like this.

Jimbob has gone to great effort again in Parkcast number 2, sourcing all manner of sound effects and 1970s porn music to help you, ahem, get in the mood as he interviews about writing literary romance scenes.

This is not, I should add, pornographic, although there is an excerpt from the SILENT PREDATOR audio book that mentions the word "shaft". And no, we're not talking about a 1970s African American detective. Some listener discretion is advised and if you are under 18 you should be off doing your homework, and not hanging around here.

You have been warned.

Gulp.

Why did I ever agree to this?

Listen away, and please post some encouraging comments for Jimbob, for he has an ego nearly as big as mine.

(OOH-ah, nearly forgot... our fellow Legionnaire Muriel gets a special mention near the end of the Parkcast, as does her contribution to OPEN, an anthology of literary erotica by some of South Africa's most erudite and grubby-minded female writers).

Enjoying the Parkcasts, LOF? Please say yes, as Jimbob and I have such fun getting drunk and recording them.

Groaning...

2009-05-25T17:30:00.002+10:00

Yes, Legion of Fans (LOF), groaning... and not in a good way.

I am buried in work. All for you, LOF, all for you (and the mortgage and the Land Rover, of course).

Update:

1. About to commence absolute last and final read-through of IVORY

2. Doing last minute edits on Book 7 (due for submision to my beautiful, brainy, witty, Grace-Kelly-lookalike (when Grace was alive) publisher, C, next week)

3. Finishing off second non fiction book. You know, the one about...

Phew.

I'm cramping up just writing the update.

You get the picture. Sorry for the lack of blogging. Normal mundane transmission of frippery and trivia will resume soon.

The other reason for my stress is that I have a ship to catch. No, not a pirate ship, a cruise ship - the MV Pacific Dawn. Yours truly has been invited to be the first ever author to cruise the high seas and speak to Pacific Dawn's inaugural on-board book club. Yes, the book club-afloat will be reading SILENT PREDATOR during their voyage to Tahiti, departing Sydney Jun 4.

Stick that in your Mr Juicy bottle and smoke it, Sydney Writers' Festival organisers!

I, salty sea dog that I am (after writing a pirate book), will be on board until the ship berths in Tonga on June 11.

See what I do for you LOF? See how I suffer for you in the name of my art, and the art of shameless self-promotion?

(PS: Don't forget, I'll be at the Literati Dinner at the Gold Coast Arts Centre this Friday night, May 29, and talking at Southport Library the next day with my good mate and fellow drinker Peter Watt).

What about you, LOF? Keeping busy?

You vil ask zee qwestions!

2009-05-19T21:03:00.003+10:00

Come on, Legion of Fans (LOF), if you've listened to the podcast then you know that Jimbob needs you to ask me questions so that we have something to talk about for the next Parkcast.

Ask away. Surely there's something on your mind...

What is the meaning of life?

Did Paul Bryant live or die?

Why didn't Mike Williams have sex with the single mum's (legally-aged) daughter?

What happened to Tom Furey's Jag when he moved to South Africa?

Is it safe to drive from Johannesburg Airport to Kruger?

Do I need a yellow fever shot to go to Cape Town?

Come on... you know you want to!

Trin's turn (Wilbur, brace yourself)

2009-05-18T21:50:00.002+10:00

And here, hot on the heels of SA Les is our home-grown Aussie reviewer; the tough, the fearless, the forthright.... Trin.

Assegai opens in the early 1900's, just before the outbreak of WW1, with Leon Courtney, a very young 19 year old in His Majesty the King’s African Rifles hunting Nandi rebels and being seduced by an older woman – willingly I might add, but not simultaneously – both to the detriment of his military career.

Leon turns African hunter, although retaining interest in the military, courtesy of his high ranking uncle. With his trusted Masai warriors at his side and as the apprentice of an ageing white hunter of note, he very quickly is transformed into a great white hunter himself, with a maturity I have yet to come across in a 19 year old. Leon becomes part of a spy network, with the help of his Masai friends and a German customer’s beautiful mistress, with whom he falls in love.

We are given an insight into the sheer extravagance of the likes of Teddy Roosevelt whilst on expedition, as well as the European aristocracy (or just plain rich) of the times, complete with their extravagance, arrogance and, in some cases, downright cruelty to anything living.

Imagery was easy, but I found the rapid progress of a couple of the relationships to be slightly forced – perhaps due to editing. Not riveting reading, but a good read none the less.

Take it away, Les!

2009-05-18T19:07:00.002+10:00

In line with my current policy of doing a minimal amount of work on the blog (while I slave away writing more books for y'all), it gives me great pleasure to introduce my very first guest blogger, our very own Les, of South Africa.

Les has risen to my challenge and submits, for our mutual edification, the following review of Ass-guy, oops, I mean Assegai, by Mr W. Smith of Cape Town, Switzerland and Botswana (I read recently he's sold the island in the Seychelles).

Give it up, for Les!

Assegai is another Courtney novel, and this one takes place in Kenya in the early 1800's.

Leon Courtney is a British soldier forced out of the army. He then joins a big game hunter and after proving himself becomes a full partner and guide.

His client is a rich German arms manufacturer who wants to test his newly designed planes. Leon falls in love with the German's mistress and the two become lovers.

They discover a plot against the British at the outbreak of WW1. With the help of his two loyal masai tribesmen, Leon must foil the plot and save his lover.

This book is the old style Wilbur smith with adventure, action, romance and intrigue that we expect.

Well worth a read.

Well, there you have it. Good work, Les. I think I may have to start working out so I can pick up my hardcover copy and start reading it.

Listen up, y'all... the Parkcasts have begun

2009-05-17T13:32:00.003+10:00

EYEEEEEESSSSSS left!

Click on the pic of me in the bathtub at the top left of the blog, Legion of Fans (LOF), and you will be transported to the website wherein resides the first ever "Parkcast".

The Parkcast is my first Podcast. Jimbob, my smart-mouthed PR buddy thought up the term Parkcast. Catchy, eh? Jimbob interviews me in the Pod/Parkcast, which goes for about half an hour and includes the odd African sound effect and pirated piece of music.

So, as Jimbob says in his Guy Smiley radio voice at the start of the recording, sit back, relax, grab the beverage of your choice and listen to me talking about writing fiction and non fiction.

At the end of the interview Jimbob and I exhort you, dear listener, to bombard me with all the questions you've ever wanted to ask, and I'll answer them in the next podcast. Please post your questions (and your extensive praise for Jimbob's radio voice) below

I think Jimbob's done an excellent job on the interview and the podcast, and the Barman has done a good job getting it on to the web for us. As I come to grips with this new fangled technology I also hope to have the podcasts in a down-loadable format so you can play them on your ipod, or save them for posterity.

Just think, you could be listening to me on your way to work some day in the near future. If you do, make sure you turn the volume up really loud on your ipod so you can annoy fellow travellers and show them how nerdy you are, listening to an author instead of Matt Monro.

Guest reviews

2009-05-16T12:58:00.003+10:00

All this talk about Ass-guy, oops, I mean Assegai, by Mr W. Smith of Cape Town, has me intrigued.

I have a copy sitting by my bed, but have not had time to read it because I am too busy writing my own books (and, if truth be told, reading my good mate Peter Watt's book, Frozen Circle).

I'm wavering over Assegai, whether to tackle this ginormous volume next or read something else.

I need your help, Trin and Les. I'd like to invite you each to write a review of Assegai, and I'll post them on the blog. No pressure... but let's egg them on, Legion of Fans.

Reviews should be no more than 200 words, submitted to me at mail (at) tonypark (dot) net.

(And, yes, if you think this is a way for me to get out of posting on the blog while I'm busy working you're 100 per cent correct).

Anyone else feel like reviewing a book? Why, we could even have our own little book club here, couldn't we...

Take it away, Matt

2009-05-13T22:51:00.003+10:00

Has anyone else here in Australia been as brainwashed as I have been by the current free-to-air-TV campaign, featuring a certain song from a certain cheezy African lion movie?

I can't get this damned song out of my mind! Welcome to my nightmare! (and, PS, the first of the podcasts will be online soon, so you won't have to listen to...)

Radio Ga Ga

2009-05-05T17:46:00.002+10:00

Ai, ai, ai, ai, ai, ai, Legion of Fans (LOF)! Or, should I say, "aye aye".

I feel sorry for writers who know nothing about Army life (something I've had some experience with) and have to include military scenes in their books.

I know nothing at all about the navy or life at sea (well, I know a little bit more, I think, than I did before I started researching and writing my new pirate book, IVORY) and am now a bit brain dead after my umpteenth read through of the proofs of IVORY, trying to make sure I've included all the correct jargon and nauticalisms that go with a life on the ocean waves.

I've been helped in my research by no fewer than three master mariners, a retired South African Navy Captain and, as of today, an Australian Navy Captain and... wait for it, an ADMIRAL.

I really can't thank all these people enough for giving me their time. One of the great things about writing is that I've never had someone tell me to go jump or "walk the plank" (more appropriate in these circles) whenever I've asked for help with a book. I find people are incredibly generous with their time, and very patient with my many stupid questions and ridiculous scenarios.

I must add that sometimes a writer has to walk a narrow plank (sorry, had to use it again) between striving for technical accuracy and stretching the bounds of credibility. I've tried to do both in Ivory - ie be accurate and stretch credibility.

So I'll issue a blanket thank-you, now, to all the salts who have helped me with this book (as it sails dangerously close to the printing presses, into harm's way etc etc etc) and a blanket apology for all the dodgy bits that have to remain (in order for the book to be made into an even more improbable Hollywood blockbuster).

Anyway... back to the title of this post. What does that mean? I'm so brain dead I can't remember.

Oh, wait... that's it. I meant to say, at the start of this post, I'm too busy writing non-fiction book number two to even blog.

Instead, with the help of my techno-savvy and smart-mouthed PR mate, Jimbob, I will very soon by uploading my first ever home-grown PODCAST.

Stay tuned, as it were, for some ramblings (aided by the several beers Jimbob and I consumed to lubricate our golden tonsils while recording our first podcast) of the verbal kind in the very near future.

What about you, LOF? Ever been put into a positon where you've had to write or talk about a subject you know nothing about and sweated over it? I have. Every bloody day of my life.

So, you reckon I'm a tease, eh?

2009-05-02T15:41:00.002+10:00

Of pirates and crabs

2009-04-26T13:46:00.002+10:00

Ahoy, Legion of Fans (LOF), my fellow blogger, brilliant writer and online buddy the Crabmommy kindly invited me to do a guest spot on her blog and canvas the issue of what it is that society finds so endearing about people in puffy shirts who rob, kill, pillage, maim and have parrot pooh on their shoulders. I speak, of course, about pirates.

One of the crabster's commentators raised this subject, about kids loving pirates, so Crabmommy and I naturally saw this as perfect opportunity for me to shamelessly promote my upcoming tale of buccaneers, IVORY.

Crabmommy's blog is very funny and is read by squillions of people around the world, including Gwyneth Paltrow. Feel free to go have your two pieces-of-eight's worth on my post, here, but make sure you also browse through the Crabmommy's musings if you haven't already.

Elsewhere, my other very good internet and real-life friend Muriel calls me a slut in one of her recent blog posts, here. And I thank her for it.

Sneak preview...

2009-04-24T11:42:00.003+10:00

Shush.... don't tell anyone, but here's a bit about my sixth book, IVORY which will be released in Australia on August 1, and South Africa in September (I think).

All you literary agents and publishing houses elsewhere around the world hoping to cash in on the current wave of publicity abut modern day piracy off the coast of Africa, pay attention:

IVORY

Alex Tremain is a pirate in trouble.

The two women in his life – his financial adviser and his mechanic – have left him. He’s facing a mounting tide of debts and his crew of modern-day buccaneers is getting restless. What Alex really wants is to re-open his parents’ five-star hotel on the Island of Dreams, off the coast of Mozambique.

But a chance raid on a ship sets the Chinese triads after him and, to add to his woes, corporate lawyer Jane Humphries lands, literally, in his lap. Another woman is the last thing Captain Tremain needs right now – especially one whose lover is a ruthless shipping magnate.

Before he knows it, Alex is embroiled in two separate and equally risky pursuits – one takes him to South Africa’s Kruger National Park and will pay enough for him to re-open his hotel, and the other involves the love of a lifetime. Can Alex pull off this one last heist and walk away with both prizes?