Recently, one of my many imaginary friends dropped by, escaping from the horrendous fires in Eastern Australia. Of course I felt for him and made him welcome. But imagine my horror when I soon discovered him, crest up, engaged in the most heinous of mischiefs !
Noting my disgust, the cheeky creature informed me he was simply devouring knowledge, a noble pursuit.
But I was aghast, and told him so in no uncertain terms.
He said he would stop eating my manuscripts if I granted him an interview about my time-travel adventure novel, The Palace of the Stars. Of course I readily agreed! Here is part of our conversation: (I will post more in the coming weeks.)
My avian interloper, Charlie I call him, eyed these pictures of modern-day ex-cop Mike Harker admiring Gordon's Palace of the Stars; seeming to gaze across time!
Charlie : Take Me! Squawk! Squawk! Take me to the past ! Can we really go there???
Karina: In books, we can. (I grabbed my remaining writings.) See here my friend; I pointed to an excerpt from the story:
Here was Gordon’s Palace. No, cathedral!
And somehow it did not belong to him; too great to belong to anyone.
But it was testimony.
A brightness; ebullience. A proud exemplar. An almost conceited witness to the power and dignity of human creativity. Surely the very hand of God had been at work here!
Charlie: Happens I read that part. Couldn't resist. Put my appetite on hold. I was attracted to your beautiful description of The Palace of the Stars, where most of your story takes place. Have you visited such places?
Karina: Only in my imagination. And in books, of course! Magical things that they are. (At this point, I gave him the stare down and uttered, 'Watch it, buster'.)
Anyway, I was inspired to write the Palace of the Stars, when I fortuitously chanced upon a book about the grand Victorian-age theatres. I transported the famous Alhambra Palace to York, my Western Australian hometown. A building exists here from about that time; a fine place, but it required embellishment, so I sat in the middle of the empty hall and decorated it with my mind. Shortly after, I started wandering the streets at night.
Charlie: You did? Why did you do that?
Karina: Because it's a sleepy place these days, and nighttime falls like a drug; the sidewalks are all rolled up and the town is tucked in for the night, well out for the count. I had the place all to myself, and wanted to get the feel of days gone by. York was big business during the gold rush here, and many of the old buildings from that time remain.
Charlie: So, were you successful in your efforts to commune with the past?
Karina: I've always had a fascination with really being in the past. How strongly can imagination take hold? Here's what I discovered:
“Clear off, will ya? Ya damn drunk! Middle of the street ’n’ all. Get out me way!”
The irked driver pulled his coach around. Cracked his whip. The team bolted and Mike started at the din of galloping horses, big ones, harnesses jangling. The man shouting “Yah! Yah!” Dust flew up in Mike’s face, making him sneeze.
“Didn’t ja hear the man, cobber! Git out the bleedin’ way, will ya?”
A heavy dray rumbled past in the other direction. More dust. Mike could hardly see.
He could hear better than he could see. Commotion surrounded him. Jangling harness rigs, the galloping of hooves, the more sedate clip clop clip clop. Neighing. Drivers’ commands. Whips cracking. Bells ringing. People shouting. Smells of leather, sweating horses, piss, and shit. More dust yet again; he felt it was clogging his brain.
Charlie: Sounds great! I can see it hear it, see it, even smell it! And his confusion, too. So, would you say that getting that authenticity is paramount to your writing style?
Karina: Absolutely. I want me readers to get enjoy the closest experience possible.
Charlie: You've got me already! And then what happened?
Karina: For that, as Gordon would say, "Pray, endeavour to be patient, and all shall be revealed, I do most heartily assure you."
End note: Dear readers, fret not. This clever cockatoo was true to his word and my writings are safe. He has fully recovered and flown away free. We'll have a new interviewer next time; she will no doubt surprise you. Stay tuned.
Oh, and I promised Charlie I would donate all royalties from my book sales to fire-damaged wildlife and their habitats.
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