The View From Connor's Hill (33 page)

Sadly, the other feedback I have had from today's kids indicates that many of them have little interest in, or time for, reading or writing. Consequently, given any opportunity to do so, I encourage them to take on both of these activities.

My opinion isn't a researched or proven one. For me, it's a simple philosophy — writing allows you to explore your interior life in a way that talking to yourself or thinking doesn't. Those acts pale in comparison. To me, the written word can be re-read, altered, or mulled over like a good wine. Private thoughts, ideas, or passions can be grieved over, expressed, and vented in a way that leads to healing, wisdom, forgiveness, or compassion — capacities that we all have but, at times, struggle to find.

Reading the works of fine writers is necessary. I have found many students prefer audio books on MP3 players. That's okay. In fact, it allows the listener to close his or her eyes and enter that book entirely. As I travel only by public transport, I often listen to talking books. Recently, I've listened to
Far from the Madding Crowd
, by Thomas Hardy — what a wonderful novel. Schools should be encouraged to pursue this idea, if students don't warm to reading.

Finally, with writing, you can tell funny stories to an audience of one — yourself. Maybe you giggle at a memory. Whatever — it's you who decides whether to share the joke. On the other hand, there's the opposite: you can pour out sadness with a passion that helps dissipate the pain.

Today, writing doesn't come easily for most people. For me, the best guide is a teacher, or a good book … looking up words that don't reveal their meaning at first glance, and then savouring a good sentence.

Consequently, I now encourage others to read and write.

As mentioned in
Well Done, Those Men
, I hesitated for ages to show anyone my original writings. After a time, a few mates read my short pieces and made grunting noises that I guessed were compliments, which led to me handing over the stack of paper that became the book. This time I got very good feedback. Still, I was reluctant to accept that it was suitable for other people to read — certainly not for publication. I had no confidence in my ability, or that it would interest other people.

To this day, I'm not sure why I wanted to show people my work. I certainly had no vision or belief that my writing would appeal to many readers. In those early writing days, I was writing prolifically. It dominated my life. I found writing a wonderful, healing activity.

I hope you find that reading it has a similar effect.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Max Prendergast. His assistance has helped develop my writing, and his local knowledge has been of great value. To Reg and Norma Tomkins, Blake Hollands, Tom Sandy, Barry and Topsy Newcomen — like so many locals — your stories, memories, details, and encouragement have been appreciated.

Thanks also to Bill Bricknall, a fellow Vietnam veteran, who is widely read and is always supportive. And to the local writers' group — in particular, Maurs Rodwell, Cherry Stevens, Robyn Butson, and Rosemary Abbott — many thanks for your professional input and encouragement.

And to the staff at my publisher, Scribe, who have become like family, a sincere thank you.