BULLIES DONT ALWAYS WIN – Diana Harley talks about her experience of bullying and how a split second decision set her free.
Thanks to Micheal Mackenzie, Hilary Harper and Amanda Dalziel for their help in getting my story on air.
Book Week 2019 at Sapphire Coast Anglican College, Bega
What a wonderful Celebration of Books at SCAC on Tuesday! I was privileged enough to be invited along by teacher, Mrs Linda Whyman, to talk to the students about my latest book, “Fantastic Gymnastics”, and about being an author.
We talked about becoming an author, finding inspiration for your book and how being a wide reader can help budding authors.
I was treated to a colourful parade of children dressed up as their favourite book characters. It was wonderful to see how widely read the children were and how diverse their interests in books are.
I can say with confidence that reading by children is alive and well in the Bega Valley!
We had fun listening to my book be read by one of the teachers, and everyone got to see the great illustrations via the big screen set-up.
A huge thankyou to the children and staff at SCAC for inviting me along and making me feel so welcome – I enjoyed myself immensely!
Book Week 2019 – Talking about books at Lumen Christi Catholic College
Local author, Diana Harley joined our Book Week celebrations this morning to speak with the primary students about being an author. Diana is a mother of six, Libby her youngest is a student at Lumen Christi. She has written a number of picture story books including ‘Beetles and Bugs’, ‘Underneath the Apple Tree’, ‘Butterflies’ and her most recent ‘Fantastic Gymnastics’. Two of these books have been on the Premier’s Reader’s Challenge in Victoria and NSW. Many thanks to Diana for joining us this morning.
Lumen Christi Catholic College
I was fortunate enough to attend another great Book Week Assembly this week at Lumen Christi Catholic College, Pambula.
So many smiling faces, so many great costumes! It is wonderful to see how serious children are about books – it warms my heart!!!
I was asked what my “super power” was, since this is the theme of this year’s book week. My super power is, of course, the ability to read! I’ve been reading for a very long time, I read lots of books, from all different genres, and feel physically sick if I cant read on any given day. Reading is Power!!!
I told the kids a bit about my latest book, “Fantastic Gymnastics”, and answered a few questions from the children themselves.
Some of the questions asked were:
What was my favourite book out of all the books I have written?
How do you write a book?
How do you get your book out there?
How did I come up with the ideas for my books?
Great questions which I tried to answer thoroughly but succinctly – not an easy job!
One of the teachers read my book to the students and they seemed to enjoy it.
Thankyou to the teachers and librarians, and special thanks to the children who were attentive, interested and fun to be around!
My interview with Ian Campbell
Last week, I was fortunate enough to have an interview with Ian Campbell from About Regional.
The interview was about my latest childrens book, “Fantastic Gymnastics”, which I have only just published.
The venue was the Bega library and the lovely space that is now the childrens section. What a great spot for kids to read, unwind, enjoy some toys and books and spend time with family and new friends!
Ian did a Facebook live interview, which I have never done before. It was a tad nerve-wracking but Ian is a wonderful interviewer and a great listener!
I tried not to rabbit on too much – I dont know how I went (any feedback graciously received)
Talking about oneself is not easy!!! However, talking about my book was much easier, probably because I believe in it and I want the message contained in the book to be accessible to everyone.
Thankyou Ian for your support and kindness – it means a lot!
My first blog post on my new website
It has been a while since ABC Open announced it was closing its submission doors, and now it is time to re-start telling my story.
I have just published two poetry chapbooks with Ginninderra Press, they are entitled “Raw” and “The First Fig of Summer”.
And at last my latest childrens picture book is available! “Fantastic Gymnastics” introduces children to the fun and excitement of new skills, environments, experiences and friendships. With simple bouncing rhymes and beautiful illustrations, this book weaves a tapestry of movement, learning and, above all, fun for kids to enjoy. For the birth to 10 – 12 years age group. Check out my website for purchase info: dianaharley.com
Please share with your friends and families – Thanks everyone!
Ready, Steady Go!
PocketDocs: Running With Scissors
https://open.abc.net.au/explore/155325
I was pissed off.
Why me?
Being the eldest kid sucked.
I had important stuff to do and going to the shops for my mother wasn’t one of them.
No bike, said mum, for some unknown reason, so I had to hoof it. And because I was so upset about having to go in the first place, I ran the whole way.
Getting to the shops meant crossing two very busy streets, with the help of traffic lights and pedestrian crossings.
Taking deep, gulping breaths I leant into the light pole, index finger jabbing at the black button non-stop until the little green man appeared.
Straight into the shop, got the couple of things needed back home, and right back out to the crossing.
There was a lot of traffic across the four-lane mini highway , everyone out and about driving off to do fun things, unlike me. I smouldered.
The lights were taking a terribly long time to turn. Was it just me or where they short-changing in favour of the cars?
With a face like thunder, I stood, with my finger on that little black button, for what seemed like ages.
I waited impatiently, my anger flaring. It wasn’t fair! I just wanted to get home.
And what the heck was going on with these lights? Why hadn’t they changed ?something must be wrong with them.
I could be here all day! Oh come on, come on!
My feet tapped the dirty grey footpath impatiently, my head swivelling from side to side – was there no end to the cars and buses and trucks driving past me?
I stood craning my neck, up the street and down, like an overly enthusiastic tennis spectator.
And then, unexpectedly, I saw a break in the traffic and impulsively, I left my common-sense on the footpath and ran for it.
I got half way across the road, came to a half-crazed stop in the middle, let a double-decker bus go past and then stepped out and into the path of an olive-green VW that had raced up out of nowhere.
The car swerved wildly, jerking away from me at the last minute to the screeching of tyres and the blasting of a horn. I was rooted to the spot whilst all the noise and colour registered in my brain in slow motion.
The driver was a young hippy-looking girl with a mane of long, brown curls flowing out the window. I could see the whites of her startled eyes and the flare of her nostrils as she yanked the steering wheel away from me. Like a wild horse she whinnied a scream. Her bearded passenger-seat boyfriend yelled foul obscenities at me non-stop, stabbing the air with a spindly finger presumably showing me where the crossing and the green man were and then making rude signs and signals.
In a blaze of swear words, gesticulation and glowering looks, the driver took off, kangarooing the Vdub away from me as I desperately tried to breathe.
Still clutching my shopping to my chest and with tears streaming down my face, I hobbled awkwardly across the road, to the footpath on the other side.
The traffic had increased and there was more tooting of horns and jeering.
It seemed as if all the other road-users were joining in the abusive banter at my expense. Expletives of the highest calibre rained down on me as I slunk away.
Not one vehicle stopped to see if I was okay.
As I dumped the shopping onto the kitchen table, my mother innocently asked what had taken me so long.
Lots of traffic, I muttered, not meeting her eye.
R.I.P by Nigel Williams
Retired bank manager George is dead. His mother has also passed away on the eve of her 99th birthday. However, it could be that they were both murdered. George, might be dead in body, but he is sti…
Source: R.I.P by Nigel Williams
My date with the Tim Tam Genie
500 Words: Dear Unfinished Business
https://open.abc.net.au/explore/147870
As I raise my sleepy head off my pillow and shuffle my warm body up and out from under my covers, thoughts of unfinished business surface once again and I wonder whether I will ever have the courage to take this never-used path and see if the journey is all I’ve dreamt it might be.
It’s cold, dark mornings like this that really make me wish I had the strength to “just do it.” My bare feet hit the carpeted floor and even the soft loop pile can’t distract me from thinking, once again, about this wish of mine.
In the grand scheme of things, I really don’t think I’m asking too much. After all these years of getting educated, going to work, raising children and running a household, I try to convince myself that I have paid my dues. Decades of getting up and out, facing the day head on, jumping on the hamster wheel of life and running for all I’m worth really should entitle me to pursue this one little indulgence.
The “Do Something For Yourself” mantra could come in handy here, if I chose to use it. If I pursued this longing of mine and really pandered to this fantasy that I’ve been living with for all these years, I really would be doing something for me, for once.
And what was that other saying that gets bandied about on advertisements involving gorgeous, young things and beauty products – something along the lines of me being “ worth it”…? Hmm…I wonder if it’s okay if I think I’m worth it or do I need the imprimatur of a family member or close friend before I can justify doing what I long to do ?
I think of what I need to get this business finished : coffee (cappuccino, piccolo latte, machiatto – I’m definitely not fussy); chocolate (but certainly not compound); and wonderful, wonderful books (just skip the Chic Lit, please).
And the setting for the resolution of my unfinished business? To do it properly, I really should go all out. Egyptian cotton sheets with the highest thread count?…. – of course, nothing but the best for this “dream-about-to-come-true”. After decades of wanting to go down this particular road, I don’t think scrimping on a few hundred threads is warranted.
The logistics of this whole thing is a little daunting, but perhaps I could strike up a deal with the TV Tim Tam genie, you know the one who grants the wish of a never-ending supply of chocolate biscuits. That guy in the puffy silk shirt, blowsy pants and curly-toed shoes looked like a reasonable sort of bloke – maybe if I offered to share my goodies with him, he’ll make regular appearances out of his lamp and keep the coffee hot and steamy, the chocolate box full and the book basket overflowing.
And so, as I stand shivering in the shower waiting for the hot water to flow, I dream of my warm bed, my coffee, and my chocolate, the latest best-sellers and my ridiculously high thread count sheets, knowing that I’m finally ready to give it a go.
Come some day soon, I’m going to see what it’s really like and finish off my unfinished business with the help of a whole lot of determination, a basket-full of goodies and 5 simple words : “I’m not getting up today!”
Confessions of a Driving Instructor
500 Words: What happens in Vegas…
https://open.abc.net.au/explore/143350
Lowering myself inside, I pull the door and sink into the comfort of velour plush.Buckling up, I use a different hand. It feels odd.Strapped in, I breathe, deep and slow. I will myself to stay in control.Staring straight ahead, I go through “the talk” – seatbelt, mirrors, proper driving position and so on and so forth. I’ve already given the “driving a car is like being armed with a loaded gun” talk three times this week, so I skip that one now.As the key is turned in the ignition, I feel my heart sinking into my stomach, or is it my stomach rising to take the place of my heart? Either way, something’s churning inside me and it doesn’t feel good. “Down boy! Down!” I chide my innards, mentally lumping them together into the form of a pesky canine of undisciplined nature. In response, I find myself wriggling around in my seat. “Control!”, I tell myself, “Control!”I will not allow my face to give anything away. I wear a mask of inscrutability. I will ooze confidence.In gear and moving off, I involuntarily grab at the seat belt. My fingers are clutching at the webbing as we properly indicate and make a safe left-hand turn.My bursting lungs force me to exhale and then gulp. To avoid detection, I turn to look out the window but my look doesn’t linger, I am on duty and I sharply turn back to get my eyes on the road ahead. I attempt to radiate calm.We progress smoothly and at a safe speed but why do we seem to be so close to the middle white line? I feel myself shift my whole body to the left, as if willing the car to follow me away from the centre. And then, suddenly, we are going around a fairly decent curve and it looks as though we are going to be hitting the next road marker at any minute! My upper body jerks back towards the right and my brake foot madly convulses downwards onto a nonexistent pedal. I can feel myself hyperventilating. My fingers are now cramped around the seatbelt, rigor mortis style. I try to breathe whilst at the same time peeling my digits off the belt. Silently, I mouth my mantra “control, control! “ We happily sail through a roundabout. I think “Hey, that was good” and then I panic – my brain overloaded with questions – did we indicate correctly?, Were there cars on the left? What about the right? Did I miss anything? I stop clenching my teeth and hunching in on myself. My son’s driving is going well – we are both still alive and we haven’t hit anything…yet.A friend sees my car parked at the playing fields and comments on the “L’” plates. Lots of people do. Over the last few years those ”L’s” have almost become a permanent fixture.“You must be an expert by now” they joke. I laugh, joining in the banter, not willing to confess the Vegas that has become part of my life.Teaching your kids to drive is gut-wrenchingly scary! There are tears and laughter, loud swearing and silent prayers, cold sweats and frayed tempers. Not every outing is mentally exhausting – some can actually be quite pleasurable. But when one of our driving adventures hasn’t gone quite to plan, and my teenager pushes all my buttons and the accelerator too far, I stumble out of the passenger door with legs like jelly and a head about to explode, vowing to keep all my angst to myself because what happens in the Vegas of our driving lesson stays in the Vegas of our driving lesson while I doggedly continue to breathe through my mantra of “control, control”…until the next time.
Hello Readers!
Hi everyone,
just letting you know that a friend and I have started up another blog called “Far South Coast Readers” for all you passionate readers out there in blogland!
It is pretty basic so far – we review books we enjoy and make suggestions via book lists etc.
It will be growing as we read more books and maybe get some contributions from other avid readers.
So please check it out and get in touch with your favourite reads and recommendations.
Warmest regards!
Diana
Diana Harley 