“We’re all retirement age but we don’t want to sit around doing nothing”

"We're all retirement age but we don't want to sit around and do nothing." Quote.

Driving into town on Saturday for a book event at the Yass Book Store, I was feeling a little underwhelmed. I had a sneaking suspicion that they wouldn’t exactly be knocking the doors down to get in. I was wondering if all these book events I’ve been doing around Country New South Wales were worth it. My hint of blue was exacerbated by the news that my bed in Canberra was no longer available and, after talking to a few people in Yass, I’d be doing a u-turn and heading back down the Hume to Sydney. A seven-hour road trip to sell one or two books.

 I walked into the bookstore to be greeted by the owner, Joanne Hicks, and the news that there were two bookings. I noticed there were about five chairs for the audience. I was there to be on a panel talking about memoir. Four of us and the amazing Barbie Robinson of Living Arts Canberra who was the facilitator. We have a rule in the theatre that if the audience outnumbers the cast the show doesn’t go on. I took the dog, who’d come to keep me company, across the road for an excellent ham/tomato sandwich and a cuppa.

 When I returned to the bookstore my co-panellists were there as well as few audience members. I counted them. There were eleven, so the show was going on.

 There are times in life when you look back at your behaviour and assumptions and just blanche. This was one of them.

 The other members of the panel were all women. As the event unfolded it became clear that these women had led quite extraordinary lives and had written about them in a most personal way. We were all roughly the same age, as were our audience. As each person answered Barbie’s incisive questions I was drawn more and more into their stories. Memories of their childhoods as young women in an age when there was no social media, no reference points for growing up and a generation of parents who were themselves repressed and unable to talk about, or deal with, intimacy. It was fascinating. I went from feeling a bit ho hum about it all to being absolutely honoured to be there. I could have felt like a fish out of water, but I didn’t. I was too interested in their stories. When I left, having acquired a bed in Canberra as well, I was feeling like a million bucks.

 This experience has been repeated in every country town I have visited. The audience has almost exclusively been, like me, of an older generation and the numbers have been variable. What has been consistent has been the enthusiasm and interest of these audiences.

 My novel, Painting the Light, is set pre, during and post WW2. It is based on my parents’ lives. I have been astounded by the way people have related to the story and then, even better, talked about their own experiences of parents who were damaged by those terrible years, whose lives were cut short or irrevocably altered. They are keen to talk and share their stories. It has been illuminating to discover how many of my generation had similar experiences to my own.

 Far from living up to clichés about baby boomers or dottering grey nomads, these were active minds, as sharp as tacks, ready and willing to share a wealth of knowledge.

 The greatest surprise was to discover how many people asked me about writing. Not my writing but their writing. My favourite was the woman in Gunnedah who told me she loved writing.

 “Great” I replied.

She looked a little sheepish. I waited. Eventually she said,

 “I used to write poetry.”

I nodded. And again waited.

 “I used to love it…”

She seemed embarrassed to admit it. We talked for a while. I told her she should keep writing. Why not? She seemed quite pleased.

 What I have come to appreciate is that there are thousands of people out there who have rich stories to tell, the time to tell them and, most importantly, voices to tell them with, whatever the form.

 I said to my audience in Gunnedah that everyone who created art had the right to call themselves an artist. It’s not a matter of being a “good” artist or a celebrated one. It’s about being able to express yourself creatively. Whether it’s writing or painting or making music or whatever.

 I think it’s an important lesson and one I intend to share with anyone and everyone.