Thanks Pete for all the wonderfully funny stories (and some wonderfully sad ones to) and great writing and the friendship over the years and being one of few, in fact the only one, apart from a primary school teacher ages ago, (and that includes my mum) seeing I had some ability in writing. Also the forbearance of my sometimes late night drunken weekend indecipherable missives, that I like to call stream of consciousness thinking (some might call it stream of shite, but whatever). I’d forgotten that is a great part of mateship, putting up with a mates flaws, that makes a long time epistolary relationship somewhat special.
Not sure what I will do on a late Saturday night when I am inspired to write by liquid motivation. Though that habit is getting less and less frequent now, blocked by most avenues not understanding my genius and being tired and can’t be buggered trying to flog my screenplays anymore, mind you, there is always email.
I was going to use a surfing metaphor to see you off, but you and I really didn’t talk much about surfing, so I won’t do that. More of writing metaphor maybe, something like may your pen never run out of ink (Gawwd), or may your hand never slow across the page, (talk about shite). Writing this I remember in the closing scene of my Screenplay OPPY (about Hubert Opperman the cyclist) Oppy is aged in his nineties and he is at home on a exercise bike, after all the miles pedalling he is still going. But his heart finally gives out and his pedalling slowed as he pressed the distress button for his loving wife to come help him(apparently how he really died).
Whatever you do till the end, it will be as full and joyous as all your life has been.
If I finally get to travel Oz, I will take Xavier Herberts Poor Fellow, My Country and all of Petes books (also some of Tim Wintons books, though I am still angry with him for some reason I cannot explain to myself still).
Xaviers book is a brick and Petes books are tiles. Can’t wait till I am in the bush somewhere where the hours will be idled to a great degree.
At last! My comment got through. I’ve been trying to do this since yesterday. Wouldn’t accept me commenting as ‘Bennison Books’ or any other variations of any of my emails. Finally used an icloud one and had to subscribe again 🙂
Loved all your river st/Ballina analysis, so accurate. I hung out for each educational, entertaining post. You will be missed. Thank you and wish you the greatest of health and luck
You’re leaving?
Best be gone than be ordinary ..
You have never been ordinary Pete. What will we read?
what can I say, there are over a thousand of posts here that map a course of life, like mine, like yours.
Well I hope you do more, and thanks for all of it so far.
you will be missed
Thanks Pete for all the wonderfully funny stories (and some wonderfully sad ones to) and great writing and the friendship over the years and being one of few, in fact the only one, apart from a primary school teacher ages ago, (and that includes my mum) seeing I had some ability in writing. Also the forbearance of my sometimes late night drunken weekend indecipherable missives, that I like to call stream of consciousness thinking (some might call it stream of shite, but whatever). I’d forgotten that is a great part of mateship, putting up with a mates flaws, that makes a long time epistolary relationship somewhat special.
Not sure what I will do on a late Saturday night when I am inspired to write by liquid motivation. Though that habit is getting less and less frequent now, blocked by most avenues not understanding my genius and being tired and can’t be buggered trying to flog my screenplays anymore, mind you, there is always email.
I was going to use a surfing metaphor to see you off, but you and I really didn’t talk much about surfing, so I won’t do that. More of writing metaphor maybe, something like may your pen never run out of ink (Gawwd), or may your hand never slow across the page, (talk about shite). Writing this I remember in the closing scene of my Screenplay OPPY (about Hubert Opperman the cyclist) Oppy is aged in his nineties and he is at home on a exercise bike, after all the miles pedalling he is still going. But his heart finally gives out and his pedalling slowed as he pressed the distress button for his loving wife to come help him(apparently how he really died).
Whatever you do till the end, it will be as full and joyous as all your life has been.
You’ve been with me from day one, you old rascal .. and a long life to you.
Not gone while your amazing writing is available to read… and the absolute opposite of ordinary. So proud to have published all your work:
Bloodlines
Lineage
Generations
The Bookmaker from Rabaul
The Next Headland
All available on Amazon. Find out more at bennisonbooks.wordpress.com
And I think there’s life in the old dog yet 🙂 x
If I finally get to travel Oz, I will take Xavier Herberts Poor Fellow, My Country and all of Petes books (also some of Tim Wintons books, though I am still angry with him for some reason I cannot explain to myself still).
Xaviers book is a brick and Petes books are tiles. Can’t wait till I am in the bush somewhere where the hours will be idled to a great degree.
At last! My comment got through. I’ve been trying to do this since yesterday. Wouldn’t accept me commenting as ‘Bennison Books’ or any other variations of any of my emails. Finally used an icloud one and had to subscribe again 🙂
thanks Benno, we were a team weren’t we, and Angie is reading Headland for the 50th time.
Loved all your river st/Ballina analysis, so accurate. I hung out for each educational, entertaining post. You will be missed. Thank you and wish you the greatest of health and luck
Thanks Murray ..