Myperbole

My father turned 70 earlier this year and, in keeping with a longstanding tradition of familial ‘burban’ (combo of bush and urban) poetry, I penned a little tribute:

‘The Net’.

It centres on the legendary cricket net Dad built for his eldest boy (that would be me) in our suburban Brisbane backyard.  It still stands today, some thirty years after the concrete slab was first poured.  Last year, during my little family’s return to Australia for the Kindling book tour, a small ‘inukshuk’ was erected beside the net to honour our Canadian links and watch over the Old Faithful.

Read it and raise a glass: To fathers, fantasies and fields of dreams!

The Net

We all sat around sharing a few beers
The Canucks and one lone Aussie lad
And a question was raised that pricked up our ears
What comes to mind when you think of your Dad?

As the answers poured forth, I must confess
There were too many memories of fun;
Coolum Beach, the Pope and shared Maroon stress
How could it be narrowed to just one?

Cryptic clues hinting treasure of a BMX bike,
Gaythorne’s last train docking bay;
There was the ‘Sheriff of Richmond’ patrolling the dike
And the ‘Blowfly’s wobbly jaunt the next day

Then one gem burned bright like a hinterland fire,
An epic surely penned by the Bard;
A bastion of dreams, a fort of desire:
The cricket net Dad built in our yard

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You can tell a lot about a writer’s stuff in ten pages.

Want to know where your stuff sits?

Ask the ‘Ten Page Sage’!

This special, limited-time-only mentorship service is suitable for beginners, emerging authors and Booker Prize winners (well, some of the ones I’ve read).  Perfect as a gift - for a birthday, bat mitzvah, wake, gender re-assignment or dishonourable discharge from the army.  Your special someone will be eternally grateful.

Interested?  Drop me an email:

choco_mcconaghy@yahoo.com

With the manuscript of my new novel, ‘Finding Fault’, set to be completed this week, here’s the re-jigged teaser for all and sundry…

‘Finding Fault’ – Darren Groth

The Richter twins stood firm on shaky ground.

At age four, their tortured mother, Leonie, walked out on the family.  On the cusp of adulthood, their beloved father, Dan, died of cancer.  Now in their early twenties, the twins remain defined by their symbiotic relationship: sole, at-home carer, Justine; and disabled, ‘Extra-Sensory’ Perry.

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So, my friend Angela Law – the inimitable Ange of All Trades – recently went galavanting across Europe and, for her reading pleasure, she packed a copy of Kindling.  

Not only did she devour the story over a two day stretch (and she assures me she loved it), she also took the little Aussie novel on some sight-seeing adventures: most notably in Amsterdam, Denmark and Italy.  To get a close-up of Ange’s ‘Kindling Tour’, click the photos above.

Now, let me ask the question: As Kindling nears its one year anniversary of release, can anyone add to Ange’s unique locales?

Get snappin!

The Taiwanese publication of Kindling (titled ‘Emerald Boy’…I really like that…) is now available and, though I’m sure the literary translator did a fine job, the Google translation back into English of the TW version is pure comedic gold.  Here’s a taste of Chapter One, originally written in Australian English, translated into Complex Chinese, then re-translated back into Google’s own warped vortex of the Queen’s tongue:

I pulled the door hard. 門鎖住了。 The door was locked. 理智衝破混亂的思緒，向我發聲： Break through the confusion of thoughts sensible to me voice:
他不可能在屋裡。 He can not in the house.
「基倫！」我大喊，手伸進口袋笨拙地摸索。 “Kieren!” I shouted, reached into his pocket awkwardly groping.
他沒有鑰匙。 He did not key.
「基倫！」 “Kieren!”
我開鎖、甩開門，手扒向電燈開關。 I lock, throw off the door, hand picking the light switch. 哪裡不對勁？ Wrong with you? 哪裡？ Where? 就算是再細微的變化也好──我在心裡祈禱。 Even subtle changes in re-Ye Hao ─ ─ I pray in my heart. 移動過的玩具？ Moved the toys? 扔在地上的抱枕？ On the floor of the pillow? 令他安心的小玩意兒有哪一樣不見了？ Make him feel at ease with which one small thing missing? 某樣東西、任何東西，只要能透露我兒子的蹤跡、移除哽在我喉頭的恐懼都好。 Something, anything, as long as my son said the trace, remove the fear of choking in my throat all good.

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