The Sisters' Song

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by Louise Allan


  Jinkers and Whims—A pictorial history of timber-getting by Jack Bradshaw (Vivid Publishing, Fremantle, 2012) and its companion video, Timber Getting in Western Australia showed me some of the logging and sawmilling practices of yesteryear. I also found many helpful historical images on ‘LINC’ at linc.tas.gov.au.

  I’ve used a combination of actual and fictional towns in the story. Hobart and Launceston are real cities in Tasmania. Tarney’s Creek is, or perhaps I should say was, an actual place, but I’ve never found it on a map. It’s where my maternal grandfather and grandmother lived when they were first married, and the living conditions described in the book are similar to those my grandmother described to me during a series of conversations I had with her in 2010. Tinsdale is fictitious, and the name alludes to the tin mining that was once prevalent in the northeast of Tasmania and the farming that continues there to this day. I borrowed the name Milaythina from the Palawi kani word for ‘country’, and chose it as a means of paying respect to the original inhabitants of Tasmania. I made up the name, Ben Craeg, from the Scottish term for mountain and Craeg is an anagram of Grace.

  In the novel, I mention a concert performed in Hobart by Dame Nellie Melba in 1903. Melba did come to Tasmania in February, 1903, and was scheduled to perform in Launceston, but the concert was cancelled.

  I’ve taken licence in using cervical cerclage as a treatment for cervical incompetence in the early 1940s. This procedure didn’t come into medical practice until over fifteen years later, after it was described by Dr Ian McDonald in the British Journal of Obstetrics and Gynaecology in October 1957.

  Finally, I acknowledge the short story, ‘The Yellow Wallpaper’, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. This story was first published in 1890 and the fact it still resonates today is a tragedy and a sign that nothing much has changed when it comes to defined gender roles for women. My novel pays homage to Charlotte Perkins Gilman and to the countless intelligent, insightful and courageous women throughout the centuries, who, through no fault of their own, have been prevented from achieving their potential and following their dreams.

  Acknowledgements

  Publishing a novel takes a long time and it also requires a village. Over the past six years, many wonderful people have helped to bring this story to the page:

  I couldn’t have asked for a more understanding, insightful and knowledgeable team to work with than my publishers, Allen and Unwin. I thank them for their guidance, for being prepared to take on an older beginner, and for giving me the time I needed in order to make this book the best it could be. I particularly thank Annette Barlow for seeing the potential in my book, understanding what I was trying to say and enabling me to realise that vision. I’m also indebted to Siobhán Cantrill for her editorial guidance and for being at the other end of a telephone. I thank Jeanmarie Morosin and Christa Munns for their insights and attention to detail in the copy edits and proofreading.

  Going back to the earliest origins of this story, I thank my first writing tutor, Rosemary Stevens, for her gentle wisdom, support and encouragement. I’m also grateful to my first writing group—Emily Paull, Kristen Levitzke, and Glen Hunting—who read my early, and terrible, drafts without complaint and still managed to give encouraging feedback.

  I thank Iris Lavell, who helped me sharpen the first 50 pages of my manuscript. Without her guidance, I’d never have been awarded a 2014 Varuna Residential Fellowship. I’m indebted to the Eleanor Dark Foundation for awarding me that fellowship, which gave me time to continue working on my novel away from the distractions of home. I also thank Carol Major, who read my manuscript during my residency and gave me the crucial feedback that enabled me to transform a clunky series of events into a story.

  I thank Fremantle Press and the Judges of the 2014 City of Fremantle-TAG Hungerford Award—Susan Midalia, Richard Rossiter and Delys Bird—who shortlisted my manuscript for the award. Even though I didn’t win, the shortlisting gave me hope that my story had potential and motivated me to keep going.

  I thank my friend, Natasha Lester, who has always been at the end of a telephone or email, and who has freely and generously shared her writing knowledge and experience.

  I feel overwhelming gratitude to my fellow writing group members, Michelle Johnston and Jacquie Garton-Smith. These ladies read and re-read countless iterations of this novel, pointed out its flaws in the kindest of ways, and never gave me anything but encouragement and support. I thank Jacquie, too, for her expert gardening advice.

  I’m obliged to Marlish Glorie, Lily Malone, Monique Mulligan, and Emily Paull for reading my book and giving me considered feedback. Dear Emily deserves a medal for reading my novel three times.

  I thank Lyn Tranter from Australian Literary Management for representing me, and particularly for her generous feedback in 2015, which made me return to the drawing board and rewrite my story, turning it into a much better one.

  Lastly, I thank my family because I couldn’t have written this novel without their understanding and patience. My children—Isabelle, Alexandra, Timothy and Samuel—have shared their mother with a fictitious family for the past six years largely without complaint. My husband, Scott, has taken up the household reins and generally sustained us all over that period. I thank him, too, for his steadfastness, for listening and encouraging, for believing in me and, most of all, for giving me the confidence to believe in myself.

  I also want to thank everyone who’s encouraged me along the way—every reader of my blog, every follower on Facebook and anyone who’s offered advice, shared their writing story or written to me. Your support has been invaluable and helped keep me motivated. I thank you all from the bottom of my big, swollen heart.

 

 

 


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