Category Archives: Relationships

The Miserable Joy of Eeyore.

I’m a year older than I was last week. There’s something about having a birthday that always reminds me of Eeyore. After all, what’s a birthday? Here today, gone tomorrow, as he would say.

Eeyore has always been my favourite of the Winnie-the-Pooh characters. With such lines as, “Good morning Little Piglet. If it is a good morning. Which I doubt. Not that it much matters”, how could you not love him?

On his birthday Eeyore is sardonic, witty and urbane but most of all he is miserable. Eeyore makes us all feel better on our birthdays. He takes on all the pain of ever feeling forgotten or abandoned on what’s supposed to be our special day. He makes even the most monumental loser feel good. No matter how bad things get they’ll always be worse for Eeyore. And that’s a form of comfort.

When I was a kid I was always jealous of my sister’s toy Eeyore. It was a home made job way before merchandising came to be the market force it is these days. It had character and was well loved. From an early age my sister and I both knew that Eeyore was the only one who saw the world as it was but still found something worthwhile in it. Even better he expressed his pessimism in no uncertain terms to anyone who’d listen and they still loved him. But most of all he was funny.

I once met a man who used to size people up by finding out who their favourite Winnie-the-Pooh character was. To him it was a reflection of how people viewed the world. Pooh types were optimistic, undemanding and simplistic. Piglets were insecure, needy and eager to please. Owls were quirky, odd and kind of interesting. Tiggers were arrogant and immature. Kangas were often nurses, caring but tired. Roos were wishy-washy. And Rabbit? Who on earth would choose Rabbit as their favourite character? You’d have to be perverse.

Very occasionally you’ll find someone who cites Christopher Robin as their favourite. According to his theory, it shows someone with a marked lack of imagination or a male going through a mid-life crisis.

But when you find another Eeyore you know you’ve found a soul mate. It takes a special type of person to love and appreciate an old grey donkey who pretty much keeps to himself in a damp corner of the 100 Acre Wood.

“I might have known’, said Eeyore. “After all, I have my friends. Somebody spoke to me only yesterday. And it was last week or the week before that Rabbit bumped into me and said ‘Bother!’ The Social Round. Always something going on.”

Thanks Eeyore.

Happy Epiphany Baby.

I was due on Christmas day. But even in the womb I had a few clues. I knew the likelihood of birthday presents would be inversely proportional to the proximity of my birthday to Christmas Day. So my poor mother had to put up with me refusing to budge for almost two weeks.

I finally agreed to emerge on the Twelfth Day of Christmas, Epiphany. I looked epiphany up in the dictionary once. It read, “the manifestation of the superhuman.” I was most pleased. Jesus received gold, frankincense and myrrh on the Twelfth Day of Christmas so I assumed I’d do all right too.

Wrong.

What I didn’t realise was this: when I was young I’d hardly ever have a birthday party because it was always school holidays so all my friends were away, and when I was an adult most people would be elsewhere doing other things like camping, travelling and vacationing. So if your birthday is also around this time I sympathise fully.

Some years my birthday has drifted past with barely a wave of recognition as others enjoy their holidays and festive season. But other birthdays have been diamonds. A couple of years ago a new friend, having realised my plight, baked a cake, made a birthday banner and decorated her lounge room with streamers for a birthday party just for me. She and I were the only ones at that party but it didn’t matter. I felt so special.

Many years ago, when I was living in Sydney, the city put on an outdoor concert in the Domain on my birthday. I spent the day surrounded by music and music lovers with Paul Kelly (whose birthday was a week later) as the headliner. Bliss.

And this year I had a full day of glorious celebratory activities culminating in a beautiful birthday dinner hosted by a good and generous friend. I felt well and truly loved.

So although the gold, frankincense and myrrh might not be forthcoming every year (even  Jesus only received those presents once) some of my birthdays have been pure gold and life has been a sweet smelling balm.

Thank you.

Burning Up

Black Saturday Fires, Victoria 2009. Photo: Jake Valance.

Summer on the Sunshine Coast. It’s hot, it’s windy and the first serious fire of the season saw flames leaping over three stories high through bushland in Mountain Creek. 

All of us who’ve been close to fire never forget it. I remember the heat and darkness of the bushfires that burnt Tasmania to the ground when I was a young child. A huge red sun low in the sky made our home feel like an alien planet. Our house was the last safe refuge at the bottom of Mt. Nelson. The lounge room was full of kids. Their dads were in the smoke battling to save each others’ homes armed with nothing more than wet gunny sacks and garden hoses. The women gathered in our kitchen talking in hushed and worried voices, not knowing whether they’d have a husband or a home to go to that night.

During the 1994 bush fires that circled Sydney, the band I played in was booked to perform at a festival in Byron Bay. We set off up the highway not knowing whether we’d get through or not. Flames were burning along the side of the road, licking at the bitumen. We could feel the heat through the metal and glass of our hired tour van and were acutely aware that we could be trapped by fire at any moment. The highway closed just after we passed through. 

The festival went ahead, with other acts having to be flown in and much borrowing of amplifiers and equipment. It was a relief to be away from the smoke and the big red bushfire sun that cast Sydney is a strange sepia-toned glow.

The highway was open again by the time we headed back to Sydney, five musos on the road, after a successful performance at the festival. Our career was going well and the future looked good. Not for much longer.

Sometimes you can pinpoint the exact moment when you know a relationship is over. It may not end right there and then but eventually it’s the reason the whole balancing act comes tumbling down in ruins. As we drove back towards a fire-devastated Sydney our bass player flicked her cigarette butt out the window. I felt as though I’d been punched in the stomach. I turned to another member of the band just to check what I’d seen. She looked as shocked as I did. It was a single thoughtless act that highlighted a hundred other thoughtless acts. Families had lost their homes, children had lost their pets, others had lost their livelihoods and that cigarette butt, smouldering on the side of the road, could start the horror all over again.

Three months later the band had a new name and a new bass player.

If only a home or a life were that easy to replace.

The Book of Love

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Recently I had a major eureka moment. I discovered how love works. I should really keep the details to myself and write a best-seller about it. And that’s a clue as to how this discovery was made. Books. Best-sellers, biographies, histories, romances and horror stories.

I went to a charity book sale, just out of curiosity. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular but I do love books. To tell you the truth when I got there I was a bit overwhelmed; so many books, rows and rows of boxes upon boxes of books. I didn’t know where to start, so I just browsed.

I picked up a couple of books, had a look at them and then put them back. I wasn’t really interested. I picked up a book I knew a friend would love but still nothing for me.

Then I started looking seriously and methodically. I walked up one aisle and down the next looking at each box of books as I went. I found a book that I really should read, a book that would be good for me, a book that would look impressive in my bookcase.  And I chose another book that was uplifting and inspirational, I knew because it said so on the cover.

But still, nothing that excited me.

Then I saw it. I couldn’t believe my eyes or my luck. A book by my favourite author, a book I didn’t even know I was looking for until I found it. And then I knew why I’d come to the book sale. It was purely to find that book. It was fate. The book and I were meant for each other.

That’s how love works.

You don’t know what it is until you find it. You don’t know why you’re doing what you’re doing and then suddenly everything becomes clear.

Occasionally you’ll find a great boyfriend for a friend while you remain single. You choose the person you think you should be with, or someone your mother thinks would be good for you, or someone whose cover looks impressive, but none of them really excite you. Plus you’ve got to sort through a lot of stuff that you don’t want first. 

But when love does arrive, it’s totally unexpected and totally wonderful.

So, when I got home did I curl up in bed with my miraculous discovery? No. I put it on the shelf and started reading the book I thought I should read because it would be good for me.

Books may be meant for the shelf but I think I still have a few things to learn about love.

Photo via Glen Noble via Visualhunt

What makes a girl fall in love? And out?

Petersham InnWhat makes a girl fall in love? Even more interestingly, what makes her fall out of love?

It was another great night at the Petersham Inn on Parramatta Road in Sydney, thanks to the enigmatic Duncan who booked the music and was the licensee. (Duncan died last month but his legacy lives on.)  The band was firing and the buzz about them was beginning to grow.  They were a long way from the multiple ARIA Award winners they’d become but all of us in the Pismo Bar sensed we were witnessing a legend in the making.

Now, I’ve been guilty of falling for a few boys in bands myself in the past but I was nothing compared to my friend Angie. All the excitement got her hot and bothered. She’d caught the guitarist’s eye and wanted to move in for the happy ending.  Neither of them had a car so I was coerced into driving them, and his guitar, back to her place. He and I chatted about music while she hung onto his arm and gazed into his eyes.

That was how it started and that was how it was destined to remain. They didn’t have a lot in common so whenever she was going out with him she’d ask me along too. I’d act as a kind of interpreter; they could both have conversations with me but were at a loss when it came to talking to each other. The three of us spent many happy evenings at No Names in Darlinghurst eating spaghetti while I acted as their go-between.

However, there was one area of their relationship where I couldn’t help them. It’s an area that doesn’t require much talking so I assumed everything was ok. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. It became clear that after the initial rush of excitement something was dreadfully amiss. My friend was not happy. She didn’t mind that he was lost for words but she found it inexcusable that he was tongue-tied.

It’s been my experience that ultimatums don’t work but try telling that to someone with a bee in their bonnet. They can’t hear you, the buzzing’s too loud.  She borrowed a friend’s apartment to ensure privacy and cooked an amazing dinner with candlelight, wine and Peggy Lee. Lord knows what they talked about over dinner but I do know what was said at the end of the evening.  He took the “or else” option and opted out of her life.

She didn’t miss him, but I did. I missed our conversations about music, guitars, books, bags and bands. Was I ever tempted to go out with him? No way. After all, this girl could never fall for a guy who didn’t….have a car.

Do The Mashed Potato

dee-dee-sharp-mashed-potato-time-columbia-2My friend Fiona was a career woman. Like a lot of my friends at the time she had a great job, plenty of money, all the perks she could possibly demand… and a part-time man.  There was an era of my life when the latest accessory for the woman who had everything was the no-commitment relationship.  Fiona called one such relationship  “Three Days”. Once a month he’d fly up from Sydney and they’d do the long weekend thing, an arrangement she was perfectly content with.  Many of my female friends longed for the perfect relationship – not true love, commitment and roses, but a man who’d leave them alone to get on with their busy lives and only be around when it was convenient.

Fiona asked me around for dinner one night, at that stage she was going out with a sailor, a Rear Admiral no less, whose home port was San Francisco. How marvellous we all thought, she has a boyfriend she only sees every 6 months, very clever.  She asked me what I’d like to eat; Thai, African, perhaps Japanese.  She was a rather put out by my reply. At the time I was working on average 14 hours a day (a relationship with a hermit living in a cave in Estonia would have been too much for me) and I wanted bangers and mash for dinner. I think the trend for good old-fashioned home cooking, like mashed potatoes, was spawned by exhausted careerists who needed to feel looked after, just for a while, before chaining themselves to the corporate juggernaut once more.

Fiona did her best with what should have been a simple task; boil potatoes until they’re falling apart, drain, add milk, lashings of butter, salt to taste, and then go to it with the potato masher. Worked for my mum every time. Unfortunately a glossy coffee table book detailing these instructions hadn’t been released and Fiona was way out of her depth.  What should have been the pinnacle of comfort food arrived on our plates as grey, lumpy soup.

Fast food, disposable music and no-commitment relationships left me feeling empty and homesick. But I didn’t have time to dwell, there was too much work to do. I was dishing out instant gratification on commercial radio, highly researched and tightly formatted for maximum monetary gain. My head was full of call-out figures, familiarity scores and burn factors, that was what music had become to me.  Slow cooked food, slow music that cooks and a slowly cooking relationship were way too inconvenient. But the day after that dinner I found time to buy a potato masher.

These days my life is a lot slower and I love it. Everything has changed. Who would have thought that the career-frazzled woman I used to be would become a happily married writer? Not me. Now I have time to think and cook  and write a book that’s coming along way too slowly. And that’s okay. Other things have changed too. The Hubby and I no longer eat mashed potatoes but have discovered the delights of mashed cauliflower and it’s just as delicious and comforting. Fast food no longer enters the building and I’m feeling well and truly committed after 12 years of marriage. But one thing hasn’t changed. I still have that potato masher.

Stories From The Journey

StoriesFromTheJourney2016

There’s been a lot of interest in this event. Noosa Library has had to move it to the Noosa Leisure Centre next door to the library to fit everyone in! If you can make it I’d love to see you there.  And my book How To Stay Married fits right in, it’s a travel memoir after all 🙂

The Six Peas of Me

Thank you to Nene Davies for inviting me to her Six Peas blog. I love the concept – six questions all starting with P which she tailors to her guest. My six P’s are Performing, Presenting, Passion, Personal, Publishing, and Plans. I thought they were Perfect 🙂
If you read to the end you’ll get a sneak peek at what I’m up to now.

Performing

Can you tell us a little about your time in the music industry and how you turned the disappointment of that ending into a highly successful career in radio?

As soon as I finished school I left my home town and headed to the big smoke, Sydney. I lived in Kings Cross and hung out with drug dealers, punks and low-lifes. The music scene there was thriving and edgy and I became fascinated by it. A gig by The Stranglers at the State Theatre (before it was renovated) changed my life. As soon as I heard that bass sound I knew what I wanted to be – a bass player.

After someone I knew was murdered over a drug deal, I left Sydney and went back home to Hobart. I bought my first bass guitar, had a few lessons and dived into the world of playing in bands. At my first gig I stuffed up every single song but they didn’t kick me out and eventually I became quite a good player, in a naive kind of way. I also started writing songs.

A few years later I moved to Melbourne to study acting at the Victorian College of the Arts, but much preferred playing in the bands I was in while I was there. Then I moved back to Hobart for a bit of acting and playing in more bands, and then to Sydney where I stayed for many years.

in-sydney-my-songwriting-really-blossomed

In Sydney my songwriting really blossomed. I formed a couple of bands based around those songs and we toured and recorded CDs. The last band I was in I loved with all my heart and soul. All my time, energy and money went into that band. (If you think writing doesn’t pay, you should try making music!) When the band broke up I was devastated, the lying on the floor in the foetal position sobbing kind of devastated.

I had no idea what to do next. The only qualification I had was in acting and the only jobs I’d ever worked in were of the dead-end variety. There I was, a thirty-something woman, exhausted, broke as well as broken-hearted, and with no prospects. It wasn’t pretty. That’s when radio rode in on a white horse and saved the day.

I had lunch with a radio presenter who’d interviewed me many times and even used one of my songs as the theme song for his show. When he asked me what I was going to do now my band had broken up I told him I had no idea. He said to me ‘You want to be in radio.’

The effect was electrifying. I literally felt as though a lightbulb had just been switched on. ‘That’s so true,’ I said. ‘But I didn’t know it until this instant. How did you know?’

‘Because I know radio, and I know you,’ he said. ‘It’s a perfect fit.’

From that moment on every door on my path to being a radio presenter swung open. It was uncanny. I studied at AFTRS, got my first job in commercial radio in Tamworth then moved to Townsville and then landed my dream job with the ABC on the Sunshine Coast. And yes, radio was the perfect fit. All my years performing on stage as a musician and an actor and my knowledge of music fed straight into my work as a presenter and Music Director. There’s a lot more to this story and you can read all the details in my memoir Sex, Drugs and Meditation.

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Presenting

Having worked in commercial radio and for many years as a presenter with ABC Sunshine Coast, what made you decide to write a book?

Unlike most writers I never dreamt of being a writer when I was younger. I wanted to be a rock star, or at least a famous singer/songwriter. I went on a music lover’s tour of the USA many years ago and came back with 12 very fuzzy photos to show for my travels. A colleague at the ABC said, ‘Clearly photography’s not your thing, why don’t you write about it instead.’

So I did. He liked it and recommended my writing to a friend of his who worked at the local paper. As a result I wrote a weekly column for over four years. It was the perfect apprenticeship.

That led to writing short stories, going to writing workshops and eventually starting the book that would become Sex, Drugs and MeditationI decided to write the book because I’ve always loved the case studies in self help books. In fact I would hardly ever read the theory in those books, or do the exercises, but I would always read the case studies because they were such great stories. After I realised that my life read like a case study I wondered if other people might like to read my story. Like a lot of wanna be writers I was good at starting projects but not as good at finishing them. So I saved up my money and self-funded six months leave without pay to see if I could finish a book. The answer was yes. Even better, I discovered that I loved the process so much that I wanted to keep writing. I’ve completed four books now, two memoirs and two novels, and I’ve started writing the fifth.

Passion

I know that you’ve now left the world of presenting to write fiction about playing in bands. Full circle! What would you say is your creative passion? Music, writing…or both? 

It’s writing, hands down, no doubt about it. I feel blessed in that I loved being a musician and all that entailed and then I moved into radio which I loved even more, and it paid better! And now I’ve moved onto something else again that I love better than either of those. (Acting was in there somewhere as well but to tell you the truth I was never in love with acting.) So I’ve been able to give my full attention and passion to three things in my life that have been fulfilling and exciting. And the best thing of all is that they all feed into what I’m doing now and not only in the stories I’m telling. Writing is more than sitting at a computer for hours on end, it includes speaking in front of people, doing author talks, writers’ panels, interviews and publicity. All my time as a performer of one kind or another makes that part of the job second nature to me.

And there’s a bonus. I didn’t do this intentionally to start with but now it’s a signature of my work. Every book I write has a song or two in it that I’ve written. So when I do events I often whip out my guitar and play a song.

Personal

What is your number one tip for authors wanting to write a memoir? 

Get honest. It’s terrifying but it’s vital. I had some interest early on for Sex, Drugs and Meditation but the interest went cold when I sent them everything I’d written at the time. I was told that the book had promise but I had to get really honest and stop avoiding the truth. The idea of doing that scared me so much I ran away and wrote a novel instead. (I regard that novel as my practice book. I learnt a lot by writing it.) Years later I found my courage and wrote the book that needed to be written. The result was a publishing deal.

get-honest-its-terrifying-but-its-vital-2

Publishing

How did you go about publishing your books?

I submitted Sex, Drugs and Meditation through the open submission process most Australian publishing houses have these days. Pan Macmillan picked up the manuscript and, to my enormous gratitude and terror, published it. Sex, Drugs and Meditation is the true story of how I changed my life, saved my job and found myself a husband. The sequel, How To Stay Married, is the truth behind the happy ever after. Pan Macmillan liked How To Stay Married and were keen to publish but, and here’s the truth about publishing, it didn’t get through sales and marketing. It doesn’t matter if a publisher likes your book, if the sales team says no then that’s the end of it. Because I had a completed manuscript I decided to publish it anyway. I jumped into the world of self publishing and released the book on the date of my tenth wedding anniversary.

My latest novel is under consideration by a major publisher. However even if they green light it I’m only expecting an ebook deal. With all the changes in publishing (and more to come if the changes to PIR go ahead) the majors are playing it safe these days. Often they’ll offer ebook only deals. If the book sells well in that format then they may offer a print deal.

Plans

What’s next?

As I’ve mentioned, I’ve been many things in my life including a musician, a songwriter, an actor, a radio presenter and an author. All of these come together in my latest passion, writing fiction about women who rock.

Here’s a brief glimpse of the first one, Rock Candy:

Georgia Hill’s star has crashed. Her band has broken up, her best friend has betrayed her and worst of all, at the age of 28, she’s living back home with her parents. When her song Sweetie is used in an advertising campaign against her will it gives her some much-needed cash…but robs her of any remaining credibility. Unable to return to the world she loves, Georgia travels to The Park, a mysterious community in Scotland where Jax, a rock star she admires, is in hiding. 

Rock Candy is the first in the Rock Chick series. Novels planned so far include:

Rock Slide. Suzie Smith is a major star but she wants out. Her plan to leave it all behind unravels in ways she could never imagine.

Rock Salt. Three sisters, one stellar career and the man who brings it all crashing down.

Rock Fall. On the eve of her induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame the skeletons come tumbling out of Lena Stanley’s capacious closet.

Rock Hard. The all girl rock band Bitumen have fought hard to be taken seriously and become successful. What will they have to sacrifice to reach their ultimate goal?

I’ve started writing Rock Slide and once again it’s a wonderful process. I love writing fiction and imbuing it with the knowledge of the life I used to live. Not that I’ve ever been a rock star but sometimes, when I was on stage with a guitar in my hands, I could almost believe that I was.

I’m excited about these books and also have plans to record the songs that are included in them.

I would love for people to keep in touch either through my Facebook page, my website, or by joining my email list.

Rock on!

The Hubby Went to the USA & Met a Woman. This is What Happened.

LoveIf you’ve read Sex, Drugs and Meditation you’ll know it had a happy ending. I met the man I would marry.

And if you’ve read How To Stay Married you’ll know it’s about the truth of that happy-ever-after. The Hubby and I survived all kinds of disasters and losses and did indeed stay married.

Last month The Hubby went to the USA for a business conference. He didn’t end up spending much time at the conference. Instead he spent most of his time with a woman he’d just met. A woman who changed his life…so he told me.

I was a bit concerned I’ve got to say. This woman was single, drove a Mercedes and thought my husband was rather special.

However, he reassured me that their connection was purely spiritual. The Hubby is a very spiritual man. The woman in question, Renée, is also amazingly spiritual. She’s a conduit for healing and after one session with her The Hubby experienced incredible healing and change.

Renée is the real deal. Doreen Virtue is a fan. Louise L. Hay has said, ‘A session with Renée Swisko is a unique healing experience. Renée has the ability to assist you in making profound positive changes. She is a fabulous healer.’

I’ve spoken with Renée and we’re on the way to being great friends. Phew!

The Hubby came back from the USA very excited about sharing Renée’s gifts with those of us in Australia. Together they’ve arranged a group healing phone call that can transform you life into all that makes your heart sing.

I’ve got to say I’m looking forward to it.

If you’d like to join the call you’ll find all the information here. http://www.trustinmiracles.com/australia.html

It’s on Sunday September 27th at 10am and the session lasts for three hours. Once you’re registered all you’ll need to do is dial an Australian number on the day and let the healing and heart singing commence 🙂

Another true story and another happy ending.

My Writing Space

My Writing SpaceWhen I first started writing I had to have absolute privacy and absolute quiet. I was extremely self-conscious about what I was doing. There was no way I could write in a cafe. I had to be somewhere where I wouldn’t be interrupted. Door closed writing. Through the years I’ve become a little more relaxed. I’ve had more practice and that makes it easier to write wherever I am. Some of my second book How To Stay Married was even written on the couch with The Hubby beside me.

I still prefer privacy though and these photos are of my writing space in the spare room. IMG_1426Yes there’s a bed in there in case I need a good lie down after a vigorous writing session. The Hubby and I have a signal when I don’t want to be disturbed, not even for a cup of tea. You see that beautiful hand-made felt chain of flowers hanging on my desk lamp? I put that on the door knob of my writing room to serve as a warning beacon. ‘Do not come in on pain of death.’ I feel like a teenager with a Keep Out sign on my door but without the confidence of being able to write freely my ability to get the words down on the page can often be inhibited.

IMG_1425There are some treasures that surround me in here. Pebbles from the beach at Findhorn in Scotland, a little Eeyore (my favourite character from Winnie the Pooh), photos of my dad, my wedding and my former life as a singer/songwriter, a wooden writer’s organiser from The Hubby and various angels, hearts and paperweights given by friends. Oh, and copies of my books, reminding me that I can indeed write an entire book, look I’ve done it twice and that’s just the published ones.

I hope you can see how filthy the windows are. Proof that I’m not a procrastinator. IMG_1427I have friends who’ve cleaned their entire house and even the shed rather than sit down and write. Not me. But I am a very slow writer. I do a lot of pondering. It astounds me how slow I am. However I get the job done in the end.

Mary-Lou Stephens studied acting and played in bands before she got a proper job – in radio. Her memoir Sex, Drugs and Meditation was published by Pan Macmillan in 2013. It tells the story of how she changed her life, saved her job and found a husband, all with the help of meditation. The sequel, How To Stay Married, is the truth about the happy ending. 

Mary-Lou is now writing fiction in her own special slow and pondering way.

Get your free copy of Mary-Lou’s  7 Tips For Your Best Relationship Ever 

*** This post was first written for Word Farm. Check it out and while you’re there why not give Word Farm a Like.  (PS My desk is now a lot messier 🙂 )