I
spent a lot of time online the other day searching for personal
experiences of working on sheep or cattle stations in the Australian
Outback. I wanted this info for my latest book - the one that started
off with an elderly amputee, a younger amputee invalided home from
Afghanistan, a dog, a disfunctional family in Liverpool and a writing
class, all of which have been ditched except for number one and
number four.
(See my post NOBODY SAID IT WAS EASY from 13 October)
Why
did I want to know about Australian livestock stations? Don't ask, I
may well change the story yet again by next week.
In
any case, I couldn't find what I wanted, so I decided to download a
novel that I hoped would give me what I need.
I
now know all I didn't need to know about the mechanics of gay sex but
all I've learned about the Outback is that there's a lot of red dust.
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