Sharing's Caring

Thank you to everybody who has shared this blog. Sharing is the way these things work, otherwise I'm justing talking to myself. If you like what you read please tweet, Facebook or email it to your mates. The more people outside our agricultural circle we can reach the better. Don't forget to have a look at the other blogs I'm following too. Everyone has a story to tell.

Tuesday, 6 January 2015

Kickstart a Pen's Worth.

       Almost twelve months to the day I announced on here I'd finished a manuscript. Now I've said some silly things in my time, but that'd be up there with the best of them. Since then, it's been drafted and redrafted more times than a dodgy mob of crossy lambs facing a fussy buyer. Now I'm finished as far as I can go, and it's time to bring the professionals in, but they cost money and if you've been reading for a while, you know that something we don't have at the minute.

        So, I've created a Kickstarter page, which is here, and this post is to provide a sample of the book. Namely, the first bit of Chapter One, Wydjawanna Station. If you like it and want more, well, you'll have to pledge a few bucks so I can afford to get it edited, and then printed. All I can say is the dozen or so people who've read it loved it, and the reason I chose them to is because I knew they wouldn't blow smoke up my nether regions. Even my Mum (she never let us win board games, ever). So without further waffle, please enjoy the first bit of Wydjawanna Station.

Wydjawanna Station


Michael Trant

 Chapter One

Jack Simmonds leaned against the bonnet of his Landcruiser as he smoked, and waited. Grey hairs poked out from under his cap, and his trousers were stained with a mixture of red dust and black grease, a result of sliding around the workshop floor earlier that morning. He stared silently into the horizon beyond the dirt airstrip, his gaze only interrupted by the bush flies seeking refuge in the corners of his eyes, and a wave of his well-worn hand to clear them. His neighbour, John Harris from Nanoo, a sheep station some fifty kilometres away, was due here shortly with their new backpacker working man. John could’ve driven, but he never missed a chance to fly, a man much after Jack’s own heart.