My reading tour began on 20 August 2006 in Castlemaine (where Robert O’Hara Burke was employed as Police Superintendent) where I read at the Albion Hotel run by Ross Donlon. I featured with Alex Skovron and shared the stage with poets featured in Five Island Press’s New Poets Series Eleven. From 22-25 August I read at libraries in Bendigo, Kerang, Mildura and Swan Hill, where audiences varied from 2 – 24 people. I must admit the Swan Hill reading was very disappointing both for me and the library staff which had promoted the reading through local newspapers, library bulletins, etc. They had even arranged for a photographer from the local paper to be there, so you can imagine how disenchanting it was when only two people turned up! However, when faced with this situation the reader must perform with the same professionalism and gusto as if the audience numbered 100. As the say, the show must go on! And go on it did.
We (as in me and my partner Heather) headed to Adelaide on 28 August where I did five readings and a radio interview in nine days. I was fortunate in that some of the readings I attended coincided with the dates in which I was in Adelaide. I was also lucky because a couple of the readings had only just come on the scene. Speaking to the locals I learnt that the poetry scene there seems to be cyclic in nature: it can be reduced to the iconic Friendly Street readings alone to that venue and another five or six events, which while I was there included Lee Marvin, Hard Boiled, Wordfire, Staples, etc.
Can I be honest? Well, it is my blog and website, so I suppose I can say what I like! I can say what I like, but I will also be truthful. And honestly, the most disappointing thing about my trip to Adelaide was the Friendly Street readings. I did not expect every one of the 50 people there to buy my book, however I did think that a few of them would say hello or welcome me to the reading. In the end I sold one book to someone interested in the Cornish element of the story, and swapped a copy of mine with another poet’s book. Outside of that the only person who “spoke” to me was someone who abused me for saying that the “poetry” of the 19th Century explorer Earnest Giles was mediocre. Well, we’re all entitled to our opinion and good on him I say for at least expressing an opinion and saying something. As for the rest… well, they were there to hear their mates or to hear the sound of their own voices. This was such a stark contrast to the readings at other venues where I was made to feel welcome and the atmosphere was relaxed and convivial.
We left Adelaide and arrived in Broken Hill on 6 September. My book was to be launched the next day as part of the Broken Hill Poetry Festival. Let me say I loved the launch; loved it because it was attended by people I didn’t know! There were no poets in the audience (I stand corrected), only people interested in the book and the story it had to tell.
A large part of my book is set in Broken Hill, so maybe that is what drew people to it. However, I would like to believe that the poetry as well as the historic element was a factor in people buying the book. All that aside, I very much enjoyed my stay in The Hill.
I had been to this anachronistic place several years ago for family and research purposes, so I knew, more or less, what to expect this time around. However, I certainly didn’t think I’d ever see a restaurant sitting on top of a tailings dump! Not only is there the restaurant, but also a wonderful rusted metal monument to the miners who died while working in the mines.
Broken Hill? I’m not sure. My uncle. My search for him. The book. The mystery surrounding him. It grows deeper. He is not on the family tree. His brother (my father) says nothing. After dad there is no one. Broken Hill pulls at my soul. There is nothing in that isolated place but a spiritual yearning. I don’t know what it is. Watch this space!
