My Writing Endeavours Part Three

Welcome back to my unprofessional yet eager writing exercises with U3A The Writers Collective based in Brisbane, Australia. Each week, give or take, I will post a short story which I have written to read out in our group. The theme comes from our prompt Word of the Week. Each writer gets the opportunity, at least once, to chose the Word of the Week.

This time, I have departed from my usual short story and have written script dialogue. The formatting, layout and presentation may not be to industry standard but I enjoyed writing it.
With thanks to the best playwright of them all, Mr W. Shakespeare.

THE WRITERS COLLECTIVE HOMEWORK MARCH 2026

WORD THEME: Plot
TITLE: ‘Lost The Plot’
SETTING: Old church hall am-dram stage rehearsal
CAST: Fran, Angelo, Elizabeth, Stage Crew
DRAFT: Version One
FONT: Courier New, 12-point
WORDCOUNT: 252
AI Free Zone

~~ACT ONE SCENE ONE~~

Fran: (thinks) I remember the time when Angelo had lost the plot half way through the second act…

She says (shouts) “For heaven’s sake, man, we’ve been through this a hundred times. Lola gives you a hug and you walk away. You do not apologise!”

Angelo: (shrugs) “But she is sad and lonely.”

Fran: (through clenched teeth) “That’s the whole idea. You are leaving her and going to Spain. Of course she will be sad, but comfort is not where the plot is taking us at this stage in our rehearsals. Okay?”

Angelo: (nods) “Okay.”
He leans over and pats Elizabeth on the arm.

Elizabeth: (gives Angelo a wan smile, quick shrug to Fran)
“Can we do it again please?”

Fran: (firm) “Okay, okay, take it from when Lola tells you she will not visit you in Spain.”

Angelo: (a wail) Angelo begins sniffling. He grapples in his pocket for handkerchief. “I can’t go on like this. My one true love has rejected me, pushed me aside for someone new.”

Elizabeth: (smile) “That someone new will be very, very new because I am having a baby.”

Audience of five: director, producer, stage manager, lighting technician, repetiteur, erupt into cheers and whistles.

Angelo: (bemused) thinks everyone has lost the plot.
He glances over at Elizabeth and she is calm, smiling.

Angelo: (shock) “Is this true, wife?”

Elizabeth: (nods, smiles) “Yes, husband, it is true.”

~~END~~

Author Note: This scene is not part of an original performance.
It is a take on the more usual ring-and-surprise marriage proposal.
Rehearsal ended 10pm with coffee and cake at Director’s house.
💗 © Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2026

Violin rehearsal prior to a preview of ‘Lost The Plot’ a stage play never actually performed.
GOMA © image Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2026

National Simultaneous Storytime 2026!

Remember your favourite childhood books? Please make a note that on Wednesday 27th May 2026 at 12.00noon AEST, millions of children, parents, teachers, and library lovers across Australia will come together to read Luna Roo the Kangaroo Baller at the same time.
So much reading fun that I wanted to give it a special mention.
Please mark the date, ready to sit down with young readers at home, school or local library to read this book together!
Last year over 2.2 Million participants were part of National Simultaneous Storytime. Could this year be even bigger? Be part of something very special and join in the free fun wherever you live in Australia. GBW.

My Writing Endeavours Part Two

Welcome back to my unprofessional yet eager writing exercises with U3A The Writers Collective based in Brisbane, Australia. Each week I will post a short story which I have written to read out in our group. The theme comes from our prompt Word of the Week. Each writer gets the opportunity, at least once, to chose the Word of the Week. This story is basically a memoir piece from my early years and yet to be read to The Collective. Also, at 475 words it is well over our set wordcount.

PHILLIP ISLAND REMEMBERED
Unlocking the Past

Back in the 1960s Phillip Island off mainland Victoria seemed to me, a young girl, to be a million miles away from civilisation. It was a very long uneventful drive way-back then but now in 2026 only one hour fifty minutes (142 km) on a wide motorway.
Access was from the mainland is via Newhaven and we drove across the original wooden San Remo bridge onto the island, bouncing in our seats with excitement. Looking to the right there were holiday camping sites which sat among the tea-trees and scrubby saltbushes. To the left were sand dunes and the blue, blue sea. In many places the road was sand and gravel but small houses had started to pop up so the narrow main road had a reasonably better surface than my father’s younger days. I don’t remember the small village of Cowes but no doubt today it has the obligatory coffee shops, supermarket and mod cons. There were always small fishing boats bobbing in safe havens and people fishing on the only pier I can remember.
The native animals and bushland was intacked back then and you could see Koalas in the gumtrees on either side of the road but they were high up and usually sleeping. Windows down, my brother spotted a brownish koala in the fork of a eucalypt tree watching us from one sleepy eye. My father craned his neck peering through the windscreen to see it. The car tyre hit a pothole, the vehicle slewed to the left and crashed into the tree. The koala did not blink. Whereas my mother started shouting. I was embarrassed that we had done such an undignified thing and my brother wanted to take a photograph of the whole incident with his little black and white camera.
No other vehicles were around and we were able to drive away unscathed except for the ding in the front left mudguard. I remember we found a picnic spot to eat our packed lunch of sandwiches, fruit and thermos flask tea then drove to Cape Woolamai, a rugged surfing beach with gritty sand, squalling seagulls and huge curling waves which sent salt spray into the wind.
I can recall later visiting the dusk parade of Fairy Penguins (Eudyptula minor) coming up the beach to their burrows in the sand dunes, no lights, no crowds, just small penguins going home for the evening.
Regrettably here was no mention of the local indigenous people and I am now aware that the social history of Phillip Island dates back over 40,000 years to the Bunurong people, the original inhabitants of the Western Port region. Not long ago I was appalled to discover that Phillip Island hosts car and motorcycle events on the Phillip Island Grand Prix Circuit. An even more tragic outcome, this time for the native plants and wildlife.
Unbeknown to me, our family jaunt around Phillip Island was probably packed with nostalgia for my parents. My parents and grandparents loved the place, my grandfather FC Bernet was an artisan, a skilled craftsman and he painted and sketched many aspects of the island. My father and his siblings had spent school holidays there, swimming and fishing from the jetty beside the small boats, back when the area was relatively unknown and perhaps a more peaceful destination.
I would like to be brave and re-visit Phillip Island again one day.
May this precious piece of rock and sand be preserved forever.

💗 © Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2026

Personal collection – Campsite Phillip Island Victoria Australia
Artist of many skills FC Bernet c1950
Image © Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2026

National Simultaneous Storytime 2026!

Because my story remembers my childhood, please make a note that on Wednesday 27th May 2026 at 12.00noon AEST, millions of children, parents, teachers, and library lovers across Australia will come together to read Luna Roo the Kangaroo Baller at the same time.
So much reading fun that I wanted to give it a special mention.
Please mark the date, ready to sit down with young readers at home, school or local library to read this book together!
Last year over 2.2 Million participants were part of National Simultaneous Storytime. Could this year be even bigger? Be part of something very special and join in the free fun wherever you live in Australia. GBW.

My Writing Endeavours Part One

Perhaps you have read my previous posts about The U3A Writers Collective (Brisbane) 2026 but whether or not, I will now proceed to post my classroom endeavours once a week (or when the mood takes me) for your perusal, critique, enjoyment or just plain ‘Goodness me, I can write better than that!’
Since I do not activate a Comments Section, you will have to say your critique out loud to your partner, family, cat, dog, budgerigar, nextdoor neighbour or other writers in your group. As long as you keep writing!
So far I have attended February through to April 2026 and currently in Term Two coming to grips with being the incumbent Convenor/Tutor.
This position changes to someone else each term, and while not prestigious nor a paid position, it is a position to take seriously.
I suggest different writing methods, attending author events, entering short story competitions and keeping our classroom offerings to at least 300 words so everyone gets a chance to read.
I am tossing around introducing well-known authors books and styles for inspiration. Also Ekphrastic Method and Pomodoro Method but currently it may be a bridge too far.
Each week a different person chooses the Word Of The Week which we all have to write about then read out to The Collective.
Some members prefer to email their short stories ahead of meeting but most read out in class.
We are not very stringent with critiquing others work. Too sensitive, too shy, too lacking in confidence? Don’t want to offend? Maybe none but possibly all of these reasons. We really do have to overcome this otherwise we are just choosing a writing prompt word and reading nice short stories to each other each week.
By the way Captain James Cook is the man in my photograph, he sailed in the Endeavour and did a lot of charting, plotting and writing. He was not the first person to ‘discover’ Australia but he sailed widely and spun a good yarn.

THE WRITERS COLLECTIVE HOMEWORK MARCH 2026
THEME WORD: Bounty
TITLE: ‘A Good Haul’
CHARACTERS: William, Emily
DRAFT: Version Two
FONT: Times New Roman
WORDCOUNT: 343
AI Free Zone

Every year William and his family attended The Royal Queensland Exhibition Show, colloquially known as Ekka. It was show-time when rural farmers came to town bringing their abundant produce and prize-winning animals to parade before thousands of city folk. It was always fun when a cow or horse kicked up its hooves and galloped towards the nearest exit.
William’s thoughts swirled. Many things would grab his attention like scary rides, food stalls, toffee apples and fairy floss, the prize-winning cakes, vigorous woodchopping, farming equipment, the dogs and bird judging, the baby animal pen and show-stopping events in the main arena.
However, this year was different. William was now a teenager and he didn’t want to attend the Ekka with his family. He had asked classmate Emily if she would like to go with him. She said yes, so now he was a bundle of pre-Ekka nerves.
Also William was unsure if his pocket money would stretch enough to cover food for two. Could he afford his all-time favourite licorice from the Showbag Pavilion? In his opinion it was the best item in the whole of the Ekka.
He waited at the main gates for an hour because he had caught the bus too early and was relieved when Emily was dropped off by her older brother, eliminating an interrogation by her father.
“Hi Em,” he blushed.
Miraculously Emily was loaded with cash. “We can buy anything we want,” she laughed, eyes sparkling.
The quantity they accumulated was impressive by any standards and only after walking through every corrugated iron shed, eyeing every produce stall, did they stop to rest in the grandstand to reveal toys and devour sugary treats.
They shared hotdogs for lunch and drank Coca-Cola, regretting it later when bile rose in their throats on the spinning Cyclone.
William declined a ride home, scared he would be sick in their car.
Emily looked green but before she got into the vehicle she handed him a licorice showbag. The bounty had lost its attraction but her smile said there would be other days.

💗 © Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2026

Writers Collective Read Write Review

Those of you who follow my blog (thank you!) will notice that I haven’t posted for a few weeks. Not because I don’t have anything to say, quite the opposite. I have been attending a U3A group The Writers Collective in the city. There’s always something nice about the city vibe and the building is old and mellow. It is also convenient for my bus travel. Gone is my car, replaced by City Council bus timetables and the jostle for a seat. Thank goodness for air-conditioning!

Anyway, I joined The Writers Collective to see what the format was all about and if it would be helpful for my writing: a young adult novel. There is no formal format. Each week we select a prompt word to write about or bring our latest composition. We can either email or read our work to the group in class for feedback and comments. There can also be general literary discussion, time permitting.

Currently we are a thoughtful group of eight novice writers which fluctuates each session and will no doubt change in the following months. Based on the Queensland school term, interested writers can ask to join but often The Collective is fully booked. As you will know from the title, a collective means everyone gets a turn at being the facilitator/convenor, a task which means sending and receiving emails, doing a bit of admin and prompting the group to choose a Word of the Week to creatively write about in any genre, format or style.

The Word of the Week prompt can result in some very different styles and stories. It is a good memory jog for novice writers, and often the beginning of a whole new story. My subconscious goes into overdrive and when I start to write some pretty unexpected short stories flow from my keyboard. Note: I will eventually post them on my blog. In the ‘classroom’ we The Collective read our work aloud as well as send by emails to keep in touch. When our group meets, some writers use their electronic devices but I usually print my stories out on good old white A4 paper. It’s smaller, lighter, no recharge, and I can quickly jot notes in the margin or write down the prompt for the next week.

I have been voted the next Convenor for Term Two. I will be introducing some of my quick writing exercises to stimulate our spontaneity – this is currently under wraps. It will also be informative to talk about why we write, writing organisations, writing competitions, reviewing, flash fiction, publishers, submitting a manuscript to a publisher, attending author talks and writers festivals and generally immersing ourselves in the literary world. For end-of-term we will discuss books and our favourite authors and have our regular lunch together in the nearby café. Consider starting your own Writers Collective and get those words written down!

Say No to AI
Real Writers Forever!

♥ © Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2026

Do Writers Groups Work?

Recently I joined a new Writers Collective. Ten Brisbane writers signed up and eight turned up on the first day. We were a quiet group, hesitant to speak up or indeed read out our work.

I read out my biography and reading/writing background, for what it’s worth not a long document, but it would have been nice if a structure had been decided prior to our first meeting. I guess we have to feel our way into a comfortable situation where everyone can read and share their work, give feedback, and perhaps do a quick (possibly themed) writing exercise in class. This can often turn into a longer piece in the comfort of one’s own home.

In a group, I would also like to talk about our favourite authors and how they inspire us to write. Perhaps sharing tips from those group members who have been published.

The following are my suggestions, bearing in mind that I have not organised a writers group, although I have attended one or two over the years. This one is shaping up to be good.

My Notes: I enjoyed our first group meeting. We were all a bit quiet but I am hoping that will change.

With regard to initial email questions from the group convenor, I forgot to speak up and say I had written a response to them so here they are:

No.1: Personally I don’t think The Collective is suited to self-organising sessions, we probably do need to develop an inclusive structure so everyone has a turn at offering their work, thoughts, opinions, etc, and give polite critiques.

No.2: I think it’s good to develop a more structured approach, e.g. each person has Comment time, Reading aloud time, Feedback time, etc.

No.3: Sharing writing styles, where we write (desk, park, café) and who sees/proofreads our manuscripts?

No.4: Why do we write? I would like to share the groups future goals; online presence, hopes for publishing, family only, personal?

No.5: Immersion https://australianauthors.com.au/
Read lots of similar books if seeking ideas and publication. Writing routines: Do you allocate time to write, re-reading, editing, following current trends, attending author events? Importantly, are we taking our own writing seriously?

No.6: What do we know about publishing? Do we have contacts in the book world, e.g. proof-reader, line edit, hybrid deals? Also do you have a beta reader in mind? This is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to getting your book out there.

Disclaimer: Because I have only written short stories and I am only half-way through a YA Medieval novel (doing extensive research) I am not a well-seasoned writer and I have not been published but I have blogged for several years and won a couple of writing competitions for kudos rather than prize money.

If you have blogged about your own successful writers group, please send me a link! Whether it be notes, blogging, social media, emails or a special book for someone or yourself. Whatever the format, reading and writing is the you-time of your life. Always keep writing. I promise I will.

💗 © Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2026

*Michelle Hutton of Beenleigh Quilters at Brisbane Craft & Quilt Fair*
*© image Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2024*

My Short Story Rejections

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Well_of_Lost_Plots

Most writers at some time or another, usually early in their literary career, enter a writing competition. It gives you a reason to write when you think you have lost the plot. There is exposure and the bonus of possibly getting a monetary reward. Occasionally there are the perks of receiving feedback from the judges and maybe your work appearing on the relevant website. Not all writing competitions do this, especially if they specify a word/theme which is only used as a one-off with no ongoing relevancy other than it being a writing exercise to aid your creative thinking.

Never put your name on the actual story, write it on the submission form. If A4 size paper is requested (e.g. Word.doc, email attachment, PDF) – if font is requested – if the line spacing is requested – if any other requirements are requested please do it for best results. Another necessary thing you must do is wordcount. Absolutely stick to the specified wordcount. This does not guarantee you will win but it will leave a good impression.

Okay, I know you may have already entered some writing competitions, and perhaps none of this is new to you, but that should not stop you from fully reading the competition rules and guidelines and sticking with them. Be aware that there may be an entry fee for some of the bigger writing challenges. Usually if you are a member of a local writers group you can enter free. Note, I have never been given money as a prize and once a story is published is cannot be used again in competitions.

If you are reading this far, I have included two of my most recent short stories (below) which were written for two key-words supplied by a writers centre prompt. ‘Fragment’ and my piece is titled ‘Rocky Horror.’ Allow me to offer a critique and say the winning entry for ‘Fragment’ was predictably sentimental. The prompt and title for my second tale is ‘One Room Story’.
Anyway, my two stories are short, both are well within the 500 wordcount limit and as you can see they are different styles. Although rejected I did have a sense of achievement writing them. So don’t fall into that Well of Lost Plots.
Great book title, thanks Jasper!

——ROCKY HORROR——
By Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2025
The pavement fractured under her feet and fissures formed. A fragment of rock flew down from a dark sky then bounced back up. Annie fled for the house – fast.
Felicia sniffed, her author brain unimpressed.
“Too much alliteration,” she reasoned, and ducked a meteorite as Annie reached out for the front door handle. The molten mass smashed a jagged hole straight through the door and landed on Annie’s new carpet. It choked the air with sulphurous intent, which caused Annie to wail uncontrollably.
Felicia glanced upward. “That’s not rain.”
Sharp shards showered down onto the rooftop shingles. She held grave fears for their resilience under the rapid assault.
“Cut it out,” she yelled in her head. It stopped.
Now feeling foolish and faintly ridiculous, she quickly wrote down fragments of what had just happened as another gritty fissure crackled towards the house. It wasn’t looking good, she still had an imagination too wild for pre-school books.
Annie shrieked “Help me, please!” a fraction too late as Felicia swiftly drew a thick black line across the previous paragraph.
The workshop lecturer looked up and raised an elegant eyebrow.
“Having trouble with this exercise?” she asked.
Unnoticed by group members, a light sprinkle of insect-like shale bounced and pinged off her neatly groomed head.
“No, no,” replied Felicia, “just trying to control my fractured thoughts.”
She smoothed her notepaper as a resurrected Annie tipped over a metal bin, sending granite boulders rolling silently across the meeting room floor towards the unsuspecting lecturer.
“Actually,” Felicia mused, “I seem to have hit a rocky patch.”

——ONE ROOM STORY——
By Gretchen-Bernet Ward 2025
The waiting room chair had a cracked leather seat which pressed through her summer dress like a blunt knife. She tried to move slightly, knowing mother would hiss, do not fidget. Maybe her button-up shoes could reach the floor, maybe that would ease the pressure on her insides. Heels swung, mother glared.
Only two other people sat in the doctor’s waiting room, the nurse at a desk and an old man with wire-framed spectacles who breathed in and out like a faulty balloon.
Why was she here? It hadn’t been said at breakfast, only that she would miss school for the morning. Like a gift given and snatched away, her stomach churned with what might be waiting for her behind that big brown polished door with its fancy gold lettering. That slow, slow rotation of the brass door knob. She hoped the old man would live long enough to go through first.
The front sash window was slightly ajar but didn’t allow for an escape.
An idea, perhaps she could bolt out the front door while everyone was looking at the surgery door?
No, her mother was fast, even catching squawking hens.
Glancing around she studied the glass fronted cabinet beside the nurse’s desk. Medicine in small bottles made of brown glass with paper labels and cork stoppers. Bill Beans Laxatives also in their family medicine chest. Saltrates, Alkia, Nitrate of Amyl and her grandmother’s stomach powder. Like medicine daddy gave her at night.
Her body shivered. Time to move. She slid and jumped, the seat tore at her dress.
A black and white tiled dash to the front door but the shiny door handle was unyielding. She tugged hard, memories rose, she whimpered as mother pulled her back.
The nurse steered her to the uncomfortable seat, not to worry, the doctor was a nice man. She remembered daddy had whispered, be good. A special treat tonight.
A quick glance, the hem of her dress torn, she felt bad as her mother quietly wept.

Now it’s your turn to start plotting! Write something wild about the Blue Geese photograph. Or follow through and blog your own prompt and short story. I promise not to critique them. Send me a link to your latest short story and I will post your link below where I have mentioned *Ekphrastic Writing. Whether it be writing or frantically editing to meet a deadline, make something great from those 26 letters of the English alphabet.
You know you can!
📚 Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2025

BLUE GEESE Community Arts project by STREET ART MURALS on Green Hill Reservoir Brisbane Australia https://www.australiansiloarttrail.com/green-hill-reservoir
© image Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2021
*Don’t forget to look at my Photo of the Week every Saturday on my home page*.

STOP THE PRESS: This information may be of interest!
AUSTRALIAN WRITERS’ RESOURCE
https://www.austwriters.com/competitions
A seriously long list of writing competitions around the world!
The AWR has sourced information from other websites
and no assurance can be given as to its current accuracy.

*Ekphrastic writing is a literary description of a work of art
such as a painting, sculpture, or performance
BUT IT CAN BE USED FOR EVERYDAY ITEMS within a story.

Does Try Try Again Really Work?

Home baked Vanilla Cupcakes waiting for vanilla icing. Recipe ingredients are 2 3/4 cups plain flour, 2 tsp baking powder, 200g unsalted butter softened, 1 3/4 cups caster sugar, 4 eggs, 1 tsp vanilla extract, 1 cup milk. Preheat oven to 170C and line two muffin trays with cupcake papers.
Food by Dot Bernet © Photographs Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2025
See website for Vanilla Buttercream icing:
https://www.bestrecipes.com.au/recipe/vanilla-cupcakes-L6950.html

A wonderful children’s author I have known for some time, Cate Whittle, posted on her Substack page about success and failure and trying again. A cooking failure was turned around and she will experiment further to refine her recipe.
Read here: https://catewhittle.substack.com/p/having-your-cake

Home baked Red Velvet Cupcake with White Chocolate Icing. Food by Dot Bernet © Photographs Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2025

My reply to Cate was prompted by a happy memory and perhaps an old lesson people could use more often. ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, again.‘ Here is what I wrote on Cate’s July Substack page:

“Lovely, just what I needed to read with my cuppa! Your warming newsletter brought back some lovely memories of my daughter’s first foray into cooking. Initially, her first attempts were not that good and one particular dish was a disaster. I said ‘Oh well, let’s try it again and see what happens‘ and fortunately it worked. She is now an excellent cook and will try most recipes including exotic international dishes which are beyond me. We keep a photo file of my daughter’s greatest triumphs. Recently she told me that ‘Let’s try it again‘ day was a pivotal moment for her cooking skills.

Looking forward to another version of your tea cake, Cate!”
Follow Cate’s literary life ‘A Cuppa With Cate’
Substack https://catewhittle.substack.com/

Happy cooking (and eating!)

💗 © Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2025

Food choice by Dot Bernet. Mandarin from our tree. Bread home-baked © Photographs Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2025

‘Happy 6th WordPress Blogaversary Cake’ First attempt Battenberg Cake by Dot Bernet © image Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2023

https://thoughtsbecomewords.com/2023/09/14/review-starberries-and-kee-cate-whittle/
https://catewhittle.substack.com/p/my-books

(1) Strawberries from greengrocer (2) Side Salad by Dot Bernet © Photographs Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2025

Private Posts and Ekphrastic Writing

Every so often I do a bit of housekeeping on my blog and tidy up the way I have misused a word or left a word out or rearranged a word or… well, you get the idea, it was a cold day and I had nothing better to do. Anyhow, I found this interesting bit of info in my stats folder:

All Posts (626)
Published (617)
Drafts (2)
Private (7)

What’s that discrepancy after ‘All Posts’ and ‘Published’?
I thought I had published all my blog posts!
However, there is a nine-post limbo.

Drafts (2) is understandable, but Private (7)!
I don’t even remember them or what they could possibly contain. Am I bold enough to check? Do I really want to know? Should I just delete them and forget about it?

Ironically I did a blog post about Richard Flanagan’s book ‘Question 7‘ https://thoughtsbecomewords.com/2025/05/10/do-you-know-this-author/

Well, seeing as I am one of life’s hoarders, I am just going to ignore those mysteriously private posts and let them languish there for all eternity. Well, until I get too curious. Maybe I can use one of them next week…

Meanwhile, here is a not-so-private observation about my session at MoB (Museum of Brisbane) Ekphrastic Art Writing session at City Hall. I arrived late due to a public rally, hundreds of protesters calling for justice over the death of Aboriginal man Kuminjayi White while in custody. Fair enough. I slid open the door at MoB and joined a small group of people with pen and paper. Before undertaking the art of Ekphrasis we had visual prompts and some brief writing exercises before heading out into the beguiling gallery to find beautiful treasures old and new to write about in a lucid fashion, arty or otherwise.

Museum of Brisbane is a social history museum and art gallery in Brisbane, Queensland.
Located on Level 3, City Hall, MoB brings our city’s vibrant art, culture and history to life through exhibitions, events, workshops, tours, and MoB Kids activities.
https://www.museumofbrisbane.com.au/

Perversely, I detoured the beautiful/historic artworks, paintings and ceramics to admire the hand-printed posters for local music gigs in Brisbane in the 1970s. Destined for shop windows, brick walls and lamp posts, these raw, colourful and imaginative posters were only glanced at or pulled down, but now are surviving icons of a once vibrant and thriving local music scene. The posters fill a wall in the Museum but my eyes were lured by the Medicine Cabinet of brown, dusty bottles, peeling labels and gruesome details of the contents. Here is what I wrote in a quick attempt to understand a different side to Ekphrastic writing:

‘The Medicine Cabinet’
Pills, potions, powders and poisons. Frowning at me from the past, the names on the small yet ominous corked brown glass bottles and rusty tins with their peeling, discoloured paper labels were enough to make me shudder. Poulticine, good for pneumonia, pleurisy, tonsillitis, abscess, etc, with side effects. ‘Stomach Powder’, ‘Opium’, Bill Beans Laxatives, Alkia, Saltrates, all aimed at curing sufferers ills and chills. Surely Nitrate of Amyl Capsules would do more harm than good? Then there’s the ominous thin brown-ribbed bottle labelled ‘Thyroid/Ovarian’ treatment. I hope patients recovered regardless of the treatment but more often than not the old saying was invoked ‘Kill or cure’ with fingers crossed. There is perhaps beauty in knowing that modern medicines are more likely to save lives.

Wishing you a healthy life and insightful Ekphrasis!

Ekphrastic writing or poetry is a vivid description of a scene or work of art using active narration and reflection. Inspired by Alice in Wonderland © image Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2021

AI Found My Blog!

‘Searching’ Image © Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2022

Is this a good thing or a bad thing? I personally dislike AI on the grounds that it does not enhance knowledge, it takes away incentive to pursue and learn. Anyway, I was scanning my stats and noticed that twice I have been viewed and possibly, hopefully, ‘recommended’ by Artificial Intelligence as a source for two readers. Okay, that’s kind of flattering but what post of mine was viewed/recommended? Who was the reader? Will this offer any benefit to me?

Importantly, have I been acknowledged as the original source?

I guess once I put my work out there, it stands to reason it will be seen and read and maybe used, but we bloggers always acknowledge our source or include a website link especially to anything we re-post.

Artificial Intelligence (like most of the internet) has been launched on the world wide web without workable social, legal, ethical or cultural boundaries. Humankind may melt down into one homogenous mass. Perfect conditions for a maniacal dictator.

Lots of questions need to be answered, especially since an AI ‘borrower’ cannot be traced. At least not by me, so I may never know the source or where my material ends up. How can I truly know where my blog posts end up anyway? Certainly readers can cut and paste anything they like but they are genuine readers. I think a faceless nameless Artificial Intelligence is invasive until proven otherwise.

Ask a human novelist about AI rip-offs and AI non-existent royalties.
Meta allegedly used pirated books to train AI.
Jonathan Franzen, John Grisham, Jodi Picoult, George R.R. Martin and others have filed a class-action suit, still unresolved, alleging OpenAI Inc copied their works without permission or payment.
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/sep/20/authors-lawsuit-openai-george-rr-martin-john-grisham

Of course many people will benefit. There are quite a lot of AI sites out there, Gemini, Claude, Copilot, etc, the first being Perplexity AI. Also Character.ai is a neutral (as if!) language model chatbot service. Another human job lost? Of course, there are strong opinions on all of this and numerous disagreements for various reasons.

We humans like shortcuts more than memory retention. Ask anyone studying. Internet users can take a detour but often it can misdirect or misinform, as in the case of a person who used ChatGPT for a literary book club review and gave a dry, soulless analysis of the story. In my opinion, do your own homework.

I like to personally do my own web surfing and pick up interesting and genuinely human stuff along the way – alternatively I read words on real paper. Under my mythical (as in not real) Creepy or Could-be section, I imagine one future day an AI bot will activate a microchip implant in a school student’s brain which will find web logs (blogs) or text books and release classic volumes straight into their grey matter.

Unlike young generations before them who opened a real book and discovered the works of Charlotte Brontë, Charles Dickens, J.K. Rowling, John Marsden, Jackie French and Maurice Sendak, they will probably use an inside-head reading app. I certainly hope not but who knows!

‘Books’ Image © Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2023

Goodreads and Bad Goodreaders

What is it with the anonymous people who give a one-star rating on Goodreads without having read the book? I call them Bad Goodreaders. They don’t even pretend to know the author, the contents of the book or the country of origin. How foolish they appear to real readers by giving a well rated new book a one-star rating for no reason whatsoever.

I know this anonymous deceit is done, and done frequently throughout the Goodreads website. I have a very old volume of ‘King Anne’ written by Ethel Turner, pseudonym of Mrs. H.R. Curlewis, a well-known Australian children’s author in early 1900s. It is a hardcover book with illustrations, owned by my great-aunt and her sister who was my grandmother. It was bequeathed to me when I was a teenager and I though nothing about it until many years later.

As one does, I wrote a comprehensive illustrated blog post review— https://thoughtsbecomewords.com/2022/02/19/ethel-turner-wrote-more-than-seven-little-australians/

I believe the ‘King Anne’ book has been out-of-print for many many years; perhaps it will never be republished but rare copies are available. There is a blank bookcover on Goodreads but I posted the real bookcover with my review.

This book has attracted a couple of genuine star ratings and, without a shadow of doubt, two random one-star ratings from two anonymous people. It would seem to me that they did not know the author or the age of the book. It is not a contemporary story. Come on, one hundred years ago, guys! Of course, it may not be thrilling reading for today’s young readers but it’s part of the Australian classics and there is no need to give it a worthless rating just because you feel spiteful. Move on if you don’t know anything about it.

Are these Bad Goodreaders hiding behind anonymity because they are unhappy, bitter ex-readers who cannot bear a book to be successful or popular or well liked? Perhaps because they themselves are not liked? Are they lashing out with their single click because it represents the only meanness or passive/aggressive behaviour available to them without repercussions from social media or cyber police? There is no government body assigned to prosecute a non-reader, or issue a fine for a rating from an anonymous person who gives a single star reflecting their malcontent with life and literature.

Could these non-readers be resentful of devoted readers and perhaps authors they have met who are successful when they themselves have received publishers rejection? That seems feasible because we all know our own work is best. However, all the more reason to give another author a helping hand because “what is given is given in return”.

So next time, One-Star Reviewer, unless the book is actually terrible or one you hated as a child, why not pass over that random book you are about to give a poor rating and get involved in computer gaming instead? Battle it out with something animated, something virtual that can at least challenge you.

All in all, the Goodreads website may be clunky but it’s about the best book reader website surviving on the world wide web today. Just don’t get me started on spoilers or huge tracts of a book sometimes reproduced without acknowledgement or consent from the original author.

In closing, Dear Reader, we can differ in our opinions. But just so we see both sides of the page, be aware of book reviewers who are known to give too many stars to boost their favourite author. This is also misleading for readers who are looking for a good book.

Be fair, be honest, you may gain more followers by giving a genuine rating and review from what you have actually read.

❤ Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2024
https://www.goodreads.com/gretchenbernetward