Return from Oz

RHYS: I know I've been invisible and silent for a while, but I've had a good excuse. John and I have been in the Australian Outback. This was one of those trips that we've put off, until we realized that we can't count on good health forever and we should do it while we're both fit.

It was not by any means a first trip to Australia. In fact Australia has played a big part in my life. I went to work for Australian Broadcasting in my twenties, met John in Sydney and reluctantly moved to California with him. My brother followed me to Australia, married and settled there. My parents also settled there when they retired. So for a while my whole family was in New South Wales.

I visited many times. I was there when my parents died. So the place carries powerful memories and emotions for me from weddings to funerals. But my experience of the Land Down Under has all been of the Eastern coast--green, fertile, lots of lakes and rivers. I realized I should never really know Australia until I had visited the Red Center.

So this trip took us to Alice Springs, to Uluru, to various bright red mountains and gorges with secret waterfalls and refreshing cold pools. We went to Darwin and Kakadu National Park and saw more crocodiles than we wanted to, and water buffalo and camels and kangaroos, frilled lizards, goanas and zillions of birds. We have come home sated with nature--and with a greater appreciation for the real outback; lonely cattle stations bigger than Belgium, supporting one cow per acre, red dust that clings to everything, amazing sunsets. It's an impressive country and there is nowhere else on Earth that I have been that has given me the impression of being truly far away and different. I've taken pages of notes and hope to write a book some day.

And speaking of books, this trip has meant that I missed Bouchercon--the World Mystery Convention--for the first time in many years. Of course now I'm regretting this and hope that my Jungle Red Sisters will chime in with reports on the convention and any juicy gossip that's fit to print.

HALLIE: Well, the #1 bit of gossip from Bouchercon is that Rhys Bowen (yes OUR Rhys Bowen) won the Sue Feder Memorial Award for Best Historical Mystery for A ROYAL PAIN. Congratulations, Rhys! To add to your formidable collection.

I came back early after teaching at the wonderful Sisters in Crime before-conference writing workshop. Donald Maas's session was fantastic--gave me a slew of ideas for revision my WIP (work-in-progress). And Nancy Picard's talk left me laughing and inspired, a great combo.

Indianapolis was great -- and I especially loved meeting all those librarians! There were about 80 of them at the Sisters in Crime Librarian's Tea...another brilliant moment.

ROBERTA: Yes, big Rhys congrats to you! Jim Huang and his committee did a wonderful job with the convention--an amazing and backbreaking job if ever there was one. I was very proud of the presence of Sisters in Crime in Indianapolis--organizing a few of the events was my swan song on the board. Not sure how I'll fill up my time--maybe a trip to Australia??

In fact my hub and I are discussing where to take vacation next year. We've never been to Japan, China, Australia, New Zealand, South America, India--a long list of possibilities. Would be happy to hear suggestions!

RO: So jealous! I've had the Aussie fantasy ever since The Thorn Birds and all of those great Australian movies/series from the 80's - A Town Like Alice, Breaker Morant, The Last Wave, Gallipoli. I did get to meet Bryan Brown once (and practically fainted) but that was as close as I've gotten.

RHYS: Thanks for the congrats. I was really surprised to win this time, given the serious historical writers who were my fellow nominees.
A Town Like Alice has always been one of my favorite books, which was one of the reasons I was so anxious to see the real town. It doesn't have much going for it apart from its location, actually. Right in the middle of the continent and fabulous mountain ranges around it. (Oh and I loved the movie, speaking of Bryan Brown....very sexy guy.)

So the Australian Outback is crossed off my bucket list. I still have to see the pyramids in Egypt and go on an African safari, but I'm less and less inclined to subject my body to those long flights and all that airport annoyance. One thing that came across about Australia was how pleasant the people are. Even the airport security guys could joke and speak in pleasant tones. And everyone in stores has time to talk. If it weren't so far away, I'd get rid of the condo in Phoenix and spend my winters Down Under.

On Getting Disconnected

JAN: There were a lot of terrific things about spending a month in southern France. The food, the language, the art museums, the friends, the clothing sales.

But surprisingly, the biggest benefit was this: There was no Internet connection in the condo I was staying. To check my email, I had to walk to the school where I'd studied in college and use its library.

At first, I hated it. The streets were hot and it was all uphill. But soon, I realized it was a bonus. I was no longer spending my day responding to electronic information, but was out in city talking to real people. If I wanted to find a boulangerie open on Sunday, I didn't google it. I walked over to the little market where I bought roast chicken and asked the owner to help me.

So, I made an important decision while I was over there. That I don't care what the stakes are: I'd actually rather not be a successful writer if it means I have to spend my limited time on earth twittering. I'm also reassessing Facebook and all those strangers who friend me from California so they can sell me their novel or their winery.

So is this too radical? OR does anyone else think that all this social-media connection is disconnecting? And that possibly, the only way to reconnect is to disconnect?

ROBERTA: Right now I may be too sick with jealousy about your month in France to answer, but I'll try! If you read the interview from the publicist that Hank brought to us last week, you'd hear that Facebook is the most important social networking tool, Twitter maybe not so much.
But that aside, I definitely think there's a cost to the constant online connections. Maybe even more so with the next generation. I sound like an old fart, but it bugs me to see kids text-messaging while they're at the dinner table with other folks. If you're with people, you should be with them, right?

I think the question is definitely worth asking, Jan. Though I'm not convinced that Twittering can make a bestseller. Nor am I ready to renounce that possibility:). The secret is balance...if someone could only tell us how to find it!

RHYS: I can't believe how naked and lost I feel if I can't check the internet all the time. I even have to check my Google updates every day to see what people are blogging about me. It's a sickness, isn't it? And all those people from my past who friend me--they weren't ever my real friends. If we had little in common then, why would we now? I'm actually going to be experiencing total cut-off from electronic communication in September when John and I will be in the Australian Outback, visiting Uluru and Kakadu National Park and other such remote places. Will I suffer withdrawal symptoms? Probably. But it may be a good thing.

JAN: You might be surprised how good it feels.

RO: I was looking forward to being disconnected in Africa. And I was..for the most part. I didn't rush to the internet cafe when I was in or near a hotel. There were more than a few e-conversations going on among people I know that I would have gladly left the country to avoid, if I hadn't been gone already. Then one night in a mud brick building in central Tanzania, I heard some buzzing. A giant mosquito? Nope. My Blackberry (which is all of three weeks old so I didn't recognize the sound.) I was able to pick up emails from underneath a mosquito net in Mvumi Makula. On one hand, I thought, you gotta love technology. Then I was reminded of the time that Bruce's boss found him on Lake McDonald just to tell him someone was leaving the company. Or the time we were in Granada and he got a fax that the company had been sold and he had to return home.I turned off the phone and went outside to look for the Southern cross.

HANK: Guilty guilty guilty. Rhys, I'm with you. I can literally *feel* when I haven't checked my email. I mean, that's--bad! I have to say I'm not a devoted Facebooker--I like it, it's fun, I learn intersting things. I love to read what my pals are doing. But I'm not addicted. And it is SUCH a time-waster. You feel as if you're doing something---you're typing, right? So it feels like working. But most often it's nothing. But not always. Wait--just gotta check one thing over there... Twitter..gosh. I'm just not sure it matters. But what if it does? Ah...back in a moment.

JAN: I think that's why we writers are so vulnerable. We THINK we're working.

HALLIE: Anyone take Psych 101? Pigeons who received INTERMITTENT reinforcement (they didn't get a food pellet every time they hit the button, but every so often) became much more addicted to hitting that button than the ones who were fed every time. That's what the Internet does. You don't get a nice new message every time you check, but often enough that you become addicted to checking. I've gotten to the point where I have to disconnect my cable modem in order to buckle down and write. And even then... Hope I never break down and get a Blackberry or an iPhone.