The purpose of ‘The History of Distance’ is to show the actual journey that the manuscript under went – from initial idea, the 15 drafts, to the eventual book launch. The Word Doc is some 70 pages long and deals only in extracts with photographs and hence, does not upload onto the Blog page.
The below extract will provide some notion of what ‘The History of Distance’ entails.
If you are holding a Book Club, a Creative Writing Student or you are pursuing your own literary life – you might find the document of some value. It provides an insight into my creative writing process. If you would like to view the complete History, please email me at email@example.com and I will forward the Word Doc.
Segments of email to Justine – 8th of August 2003
Subject: I am a spaceman
… I can only assume that you are still on planet earth and have not joined the Russian space program. As a young tacker, I had dreams of becoming a spaceman. Not just little dreams but big dreams, I remember looking out of my bedroom window and contemplating the old moon and the more I contemplated, the more I wanted to visit the moon and I’m thinking that I’ve missed my real calling in life, I am a spaceman. I am a spaceman. I do what spaceman do. I float about… Anyway, more to the point, today is my last day at the VEC.
… Hopefully, Saturday night will be a night of jazz, trumpets blowing and that ole swishin’ beat to make my toes wiggle inside me boots. And Sunday will be a hot pie and a football cheer occasion, “Go the Dockers” you need to image that was stated in a loud voice. …
… And just remember, the next time that a chap tries to chat you up, just say to him; “I am a spaceman.” Stay connected and till later, Kingo
Bayside Private Hotel – Room 42
26th of August 2003 – handwritten copy of ‘closeness’
8th of September 2003 – handwritten copy of closeness
Draft Twelve – 22rd of NOVEMBER 2003 – The Bayside Edition – Bayside Hotel
275 Pages – ‘Hans Angel’ included ‘distance’ and ‘closeness’
Hans Angel sits on a plastic chair and twiddles his thumbs. He watches his thumbs rotate with sleepless eyes. Hans Angel thinks to himself. “My Grandma told me that I was special. I remember being a healthy four-year old making a mess in the kitchen, trying to cook a batch of scones. When the scones were cooked, we would sit down and dig into our baked delights. …
… The ute drives on into the morning before arriving at Marble Bar. Hans Angel and Matilda quickly find themselves a position beneath the eucalyptus trees on the hillside at the Marble Bar Racetrack. They are surrounded by a colourful crowd of people watching the passing thunder of horses galloping to the finishing post. A dust cloud trails the last horse. The vagrant dust cloud with the aid of a breeze embraces the punters. Hans Angel coughs and splutters before taking a swig from his red can of beer. Matilda frowns. …
… “Tell me that you love me?” Hans Angel clenches his fist. “No. I would only be lying.” Lucy stares at his pale lips. “Lie to me.” Hans Angel breaks her hold and staggers away from the exposed naked figure shivering beneath the full-length black woolen overcoat. He shakes his head and stumbles in a chilled manner towards the old fisherman. Two men walk past. They pump into his pale shivering figure. “Sorry, mate.” Hans Angel looks across with his teeth chattering away at a man with a heavily bandaged cheek. The man has an icy cold stare. “You’d better run along, boy. The bitch slashed me.” The two men push Hans Angel away. He trips and lands on the beach. The seat of his jeans becomes covered in sand. He gets up and stumbles towards the old fisherman. He hears a scream. Hans Angel reaches the old fisherman. He hears a howl. Hans Angel grabs his overnight bag, his clothing attire, his cherry-red boots, his wallet and walks away.
Segment of Email from Wendy (Editor – Fremantle Press) 18th of November 2004
Re: Greetings from the East Coast
… I’m sorry Kingsley. The decision was against accepting the work.
I am happy to talk to you about it and touch base if you want to get in tough when you are here.
Let me know …