Condensed

 I was thrilled when I heard that the lovely people at Readers Digest wanted to condense Alzheimer's: A Love Story for their Encounters series. I'd heard of Readers Digest, of course, and of their condensed books, but I'd never heard of the Encounters series. The first thing I did was head across to wise old Mrs Google.

This is what she told me:

Encounters are series of condensed books published by Reader's Digest. Each Encounters volume contains four of today's most up-to-date non-fiction stories about real life people and events. The stories have been skilfully edited, illustrated with colour photographs and bound into one striking hardcover book to bring the secrets, wisdom and amazing truths about other people's lives into your home.

The editors at Reader's Digest hand-select the most fascinating of today's unforgettable true stories from Australia, New Zealand and overseas, with memoirs, adventure, true crime, behind-the-headlines, touching stories about nature—and human nature—that will surprise and move you.

Did you read that? 'the most fascinating of today's unforgettable true stories?' That's me! How great is that!

It's an honour that the editors of Readers Digest chose my memoir; the company has a long history and an enormous readership. And I could see how my story would fit their series. But I must admit I was nervous about what condensing would do to my book. What would they leave out? Would what they left make sense?

My copies arrived and I ripped open the box. There was my book pictured at the bottom right of the cover. It was very exciting. But every time I tried to read it I felt sick. Crazy, I know, but it was how I felt. It's often difficult for me to read my own work but this felt worse than usual.

Finally I decided to plunge in by reading the other books in the volume in order, as though I were an ordinary reader. That was easy to do and rewarding because they're fascinating stories about remarkable and brave people. I was proud that my parents' story would be read alongside these others.

It was easy then to read my own work in this new context. Somehow seeing it here set amongst other stories of understated heroism, highlights my father's quiet courage and determination. It made me remember his motto: The difference between the possible and the impossible is the measure of man's will.

None of the people in this volume of Encounters would see themselves as heros. Accidental heros at most. But not everyone reacts the way they did when confronted with difficult realities.

The truth is that heroism is rare. I'm proud of my father and proud of my book and proud to be included in this volume. Thanks, Reader's Digest for selecting me.

Reading the Writing

Last night I read extracts from chapter one of Alzheimer's: a Love Story at the third Wheeler Centre Debut Monday. The other three writers on the night were an energetic young philosopher, an American born novelist and a loud performance poet. They were all amazing - talented, polished and confident. Beforehand we hung out in the Green Room, chatting about writing-related topics -such as the fun for young parents of leaving children with grandparents, and how good Russell Crowe's American accent is. (This second issue has puzzled me for some time now: given that we Aussies can pick a fake Australian accent in a second, does Russell Crowe's American accent convince an American? According to the author of Dancing Backwards in High Heels it does.)

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the evening. Most of my time as a writer is spent refusing invitations. I am desperate for solitude, hate the phone and other interruptions, crave the company of my own thoughts. But last night I loved the performance aspect, hearing the audience react when I hammed up a line or played up the pathos of a situation. And I had a ball afterwards, chatting with my writer friends who'd come to cheer me on.

I'd describe myself as a shyish person, so I was surprised by how much fun I had. And I get to do it all over again tomorrow night at the Sandybeach Centre in Sims Street Sandringham when I'll be delivering a talk about my book. I'm sure I'll be nervous at the time, but right now I'm looking forward to it a lot. Meeting readers and discussing my book with them - what could be nicer!

With A Little Help From My Friends

Well, here they are - ten author copies of my book. I picked them up from the lovely people at Scribe yesterday. I was so excited I couldn't stop babbling, but I guess they must be used to that behaviour and they all acted as though I was perfectly normal.

Apparently it will take from now until late October for the distributor to get the books out to all the shops so the rest of you will have to wait for your copies. The launch is November 12th, but I think the book will be for sale from October 26th.

It looks beautiful. I love the cover - so moody and evocative - and I think the designer has done a wonderful job with the inside of the book too. Not to mention Nicola, my painstaking editor, who, despite her gentle manner, insisted on polishing my prose until now it fairly shines on the page.

What an amazing experience this has been. I delivered the manuscript at the end of April and since then it's undergone meticulous editing and fine tuning to make sure it's the best version it can possibly be. And now here it is. I feel quite humble: I'm going to take all the credit, but I didn't do it alone.

Advance Reading Copy

The book is here. When Farmdoc and I walked down to the post office this afternoon, there was a padded bag from Scribe, addressed to me, waiting in the box.

I had decided that I'd wait until I sat somewhere before I opened it. I wanted to relish the unveiling. Instead, as we walked, I ripped the bag open, desperate to see what it looked like.

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

Raimond Gaita's full endorsement is on the back, and on the front, his lovely words, 'A heartrendingly beautiful book.' The gorgeous front cover design wraps around the spine, and then onto the back. I think Marc Martin, the designer, has done an incredible job. You should check out his website to see some of his other work.

There was also a lovely note from my editor, Nicola, explaining that this is only the Advance Reading Copy and not the final book so there'll be mistakes.

Too exciting really.

We walked on to the Mole Creek Visitor Information Centre, which now houses The Superb Herb and an espresso machine. The Laurel Berry where I wrote so much of this book, is closed until September, so it's a slightly longer walk from our place for a cup of coffee. On one of the two glass tables, I set myself up in earnest to savour the moment while Farmdoc read his mail.

And what's my reaction? How do I feel? Well, my strongest urge is to treat this volume as I would any other new book: scrutinize the cover, read the blurb on the back, leaf through to the acknowledgements to see if I know any of the people thanked, and then turn to page one to begin reading: The Journey.

I read the words:

'It has been said that all stories begin in one of two ways: a stranger comes to town, or a person sets out on a journey.'

After all the hours that I spent writing, reading, revising, editing and then proofreading this book, what I most want to do now is to read it as a reader and not as the writer.

But also to admire it as a beautiful object and to decide which page I'll sign for my readers.

I guess how I feel is that I have been on a journey writing this book that describes my mother's journey with Alzheimer's. And now the book will have a life and a journey of her own. All I can do is wish her Godspeed.

Waiting, waiting...

The last couple of weeks have been quite momentous ones in the life of this writer.

First, I received two draft concepts for my cover. One of these I admired very much, but didn't want for my book. I found it too confronting and too upsetting. The other I absolutely loved. I thought it was unusual and beautiful and really expressed what I am trying to say with my words. It has a dream-like quality and I know my mother would have liked it. That feels important seeing the book's about her. Nicola, my editor, said she loves that concept too, and that's the one the designer will develop for the book. I am impatient to see the final result though I am feeling more confident than I did.

Seeing the art work made a surprisingly big difference. It's made the book feel more real to me. Until then I'd felt in limbo. I signed the contract way back last December and it's been a long six months. I delivered the final draft at the end of April and then had to wait until Nicola read it. That was awful. It still wasn't too late for the publisher to walk away if they didn't like it. But Nicola did. She loved it!

Then I had to wait some more while Nicola edited it. That was nerve wracking. She kept sending me lovely, reassuring emails about how 'clean' the manuscript was and what a pleasure to edit, but I didn't really believe her. All my insecurity demons came out to play and they whispered in my ear that in editing school editors are taught to say nice things to their authors so they'll accept slashing and burning of their precious words more easily.

And then the first edit dropped into my email inbox. Nicola had meant what she'd said. There wasn't anything too drastic. All that angst was for nothing.

Surprisingly, I'm enjoying the editing process. It's reconnected me with the writing, and I like Nicola's work. I think she has a good eye and a good ear and although she's scrupulous - she hasn't let me get away with anything - she's also very gentle. I feel very privileged to have her edit my manuscript.

The third event was having some photographs taken by Daniel Mahon for publicity purposes. My new profile picture is one of his. And so is the little pic on this post. I actually enjoyed the session though I had dreaded it. I think he's a great photographer who knows how to get the best out of his subjects.

I'm finishing up the first round of editing this week, then it's over to Nicola, and more waiting until the manuscript comes back for me to have another go. Then when that's done there'll be further rounds of waiting until the book finally hits the shelves in November and I wait to see how it's received.

I'd like to say I'm developing patience but I don't think that's true. I'm just getting more used to waiting.